Newspaper of Chicago Daily Tribune, May 4, 1873, Page 7

Newspaper of Chicago Daily Tribune dated May 4, 1873 Page 7
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MOVING. Dow the May-IBay Was Oh served. Features of the American Sat- urnalia. “On Horror’s Head Horrors Accu muiate.” dm as twilight in October. Dawns tho dark'and dismal day. Of course, that is one of its special privileges. As if one’s household-belongings did not look disreputable enough when they are en deshabille ■and heaped together promiscuously, soft spring showers must needs put in a very inopportune appearance, and add to the general confusion and discomfort. Cold, raw winds also assist at the carnival; and, altogether, things, outside and in, ABE ABOUT AS DISAQBEEAELE as it is possible to conceive. ‘Worn out with the labors of preparation, yon have failed to sleep in the early hours of the night. You remember that, in Germany, the witches are keeping sat urnalia, and you mentally query if there might not a few of them have come over in that first ship from. Hol land, • and, allowing for tho difference in time, still keeping tho Walpnrgis-revol in this country. Certainly that accounts for It. How long before silver sixpences and mill ponds were in requisition on their account, after the good fathers had settled down to' a proper consideration of their condition ? How did they come ? In the hold, at tho mast-head, or were they an invisible attending company, sailing through the air upon broomsticks and similar appropriate locomotive 'agents ? Realizing, at least, that some of their mischievous descend ants are apparently applying ingenious methods of torture to every nerve and muscle in your body, you at last fall asleep, awakened, as U seems to you, the next moment, by . AN UNSABTHLY WHOOP, and, opening your eyes, you find it is daylight, and that you must rise. That demoniac yell was only a shout of joy from one of the younger boys, to whom moving comprises Fourth of July, general-muster, and the circus, oil rolled into one. No school that day; and it is Tommy, screaming his exultation os he elides down the bannister, that has aroused you; while Johnny diversifies it by standing on his head, and other wise opening the performance with appropriate gymnastic exercises. You are a wise woman, so youcloso the door and say nothing, for you are well aware that, the sooner * they wear off a por tion of the ectosy, the better it will bo for you. They will be useful later in the day as general carriers In an individual way, if allowed to effer vesce early. Unutterably weary you rise and go down stairs. Breakfast is eaten in a shiftless way, and the unwashed dishes are packed in a hamper, and left to bo cleansed at a more con venient opportunity. There are generally three kinds of husbands who are especially noticeable at thin season. calls after you as you leave the room, “ Dear, where is my clean shirt ?” “ I don’t know, Charles, I left it out yesterday, but Hazy must have put it up.. Can’t yon make the one you wore yesterday aqswer?” “Of course I can’t; you know that very well. I don’t see how you could have been so careless.” You turn back with a. sigh, unlock a huge Saratoga, and, half unpacking it, get the necessary clean linen, —knowing that it is useless to protest, although tiie other was clean the day before. Then he wants a particular neck-tie, which you also find; but, having done so, ho concludes he will wear the one he had on yesterday. As you again turn to go away, no makes a few imprac ticable suggestions regarding breakfast, and comes around in a half-hour, looking immacu lately neat, and altogether self-satisfied,, as if there was no such thing as Hay morning in the the world. He is not particularly pleased with ’his breakfast; but, with what ho considers the most noble generosity ho overlooks the vshort comings of that unsatisfactory meal, and, rising, he goes to your favorite rose-bush, with its one lovely blossom that you had been cherishing to brighten your new home, and, breaking it off, places it in his button-hole. He looks askance at your gray dress, which you have donned for service; but you goto the door with him, be cause he expects it and you have always done so. As ho goesdown the steps, putting on bis double-buttoned Dents, he waves his hand and says, “Ta, ta! I’ll send the men right along. And don’t mind about dinner; FU get mine down town.” Were you a wise or foolish woman ? Did you closS the door glad that he was gone, and take all the burden upon yourself,—submitting to a cold dinner, picked up as it best might be, and using up the remnant of your strength in order that my lord’s sleeping apartment should bo in perfect order; or did you say,. “.Yes, dear, and I will, bring Alice [the eldest daughter] and meet yon, and wo CAN ALL DIKE TOGETHER.” If you were a skilful player, that was the way you gained your checkmate; and, having seen your furniture safely housed in the new mansion, provided cook with the means of getting a sim ple fnoal ‘ for the younger children and servants, you have carried ' out your in tention, and have dined down-town. We hope you did. If you are one of those pro visional women spoken of in a previous article, vou have* secured possession of one room, and had sufficient furniture moved to make it com fortable. This you can use as a nursery aud ■ sleeping-apartment until tho rest of tho place is put in order, and it will help you immeasurably as a' move toward that checkmate you are to make. In fact, it will be a good thing for you and your Uege-lord to dine down-town until the household machinery is once more in perfect running order. It is tho most complicated of all motive mechanical arrangements, and. until each piece is properly fitted in place, it is not best to attempt using it with tho expectation of any desirable results. of masculine matrimonial help is oven worse than the preceding one. He is of the Banbuzy hen chasing order, and helps too much. He flies around very much after the same manner, and makes of the confusion such an inextricable snarl that you wonder if you over will get things straight. He gives contradictory orders to the servants, sets the children by the ears, drives you distracted with questions, and calls for help, —all of which is done with such good nature and absolute certainty upon his part that his aid is invaluable, you don’t know now to properly suppress him. What you did with him May day, in all that rain, one can’t imagine. The only way to dispose of him, in pleasant weather, is to give him a choir in the balcony, in the courtyard, on tbe sidewalk, —anywhere out of doors, —provide him with cigars and the morning Tzubutte, and let him remonstrate .warmly with the Milesian expressmen. The more fervid his invocations, the higher he will rise in their estimation, and, if be only looks on and adjures enthusiastically, you will probably be complimented by the confi dential comment, “An’, shore, isn’t hethojin tleman ?” THE Till HI) SPECIES, — & rara avis indeed—is the helpful man, who really does do the right thing in the right place, and takes a portion of the burden upon his own shoulders. With quiet authority he orders and supervises, and things go bo with as.znnch ease as is possible under such difficult conditions. He is not to be found in every, bouse, however; but there is not tho least doubt that every mother’s son of them who reads this articld will think he is the n\an, although they are, .of course, not in the slightest degree conceited. - We will suppose, however, dear Madame, that you are one of the particularly fortunate kind ; that your male accessories are of the best qual ity,—both your other half and the hired assist ants; still you would hardly core to have May day A QUABTEBLT FESTIVAL. With what disgust you look after the loads of furniture os they move off. Your parlor J terry or satin looks veiy shabby, and yon can scarcely believe that it was so fine only last week, before the dismantling process began. A socialistic spirit seems to have taken possession of the movables, and you - find your kitchen-table, • your drawing-room : cab inet, and your French-walnut chif fonier in the most democratic proximity. Murae has been pressed into the service, and little Miss Four-yeare-old is to bo generally looked after by the family. Such supervision is finally ho eupervision. One delegates the charge to another pro tern, until at last, through somo neglect, the little creature is miseing, ana “ LOST I BABY IB LOST l’° . Is the exclamation that curdles your blood. Good-bye to all regard for mere movables; they may be stolon, shattered, destroyed, for all you care, so only the darling little mischief is found again. You dispatch yonr assistants in all di rections ; you hurry forth yourself, leaving your property at tho mercy of any one ; and not until sho is brought bade canyon think of anything else. She was two squares off, leading another little toddler, a neighbor's child, into a strange house which sho had fancied, and insisted upon was the now one they were to go to. Securing tho runaway, yon send her to the new house with some member of tho family whom you think can be best spared,—the oldest girl, probably, tho boys being quite out of the question, as they are not sufficiently tired yet to .be quiescent or amenable to orders. As soon as you can, you follow, and A LONO LTST OP DISASTEB3 is hearkenod to. Tho old mirror, which you -bavo kopt so religiously because it came oyer in the Mayflower, has been shivered bv the icono clast, who seems gifted with peculiarly i destruc tive powers, which ho has hired out to you at so much per minute for the day, under tho designation of /‘help.” Miss Fonr ■veora-old has lot yonr favorite canaries flyaway,, having opened tho cage-door and let tho little prisoners free. Yon had tamed them so that, in the old place, they wore never confined, and came back of their own accord; but this locality is strange, their natural instinct have been dnllod by confinement, and, bewildered by their now surroundings, they use their wings and are lost. Is she the dainty little Hiss whom yon have al ways cared for so particularly, and who looked fresh and sweet as a rose in tho morning ? For once in her life, she has . BEVELED. IN DIET, and has completed tho general look of. demorali zation which she presents by breaking a flask of salad-oil over her, and deluging herself with the contents, while a strange, vicious cat, which she has caught, has scratched her cheek until tho marks will last her life-time. Yon are ready to cry with nervousness, fatigue, and vexation; but THE END IS NOT YET. Tho furniture is all in the wrong pl&co. Tho .Hibernian assistants have loft the barrel of coal which you pointed out to thorn to fetch; and in its place have brought a barrel of ashes which stood beside it. You meet them half-way up the second flight of stairs, toiling along with it up into tho sleeping-rooms, and, when you ask them what it is, the answer is, “Shore, mem, the barrel that ye towld us to fetch!” “ Well, I don't want it hero; take it down stairs. Why, that wasn't the barrel I What possessed yon to bring that ashes up here?” Tho answer is a grunt of amazement, —a stupefied, inane look, —as they realize that they have made a blunder, but an utter lack of comprehension as to how the thing happened. You send them down stairs with it, and look about yon. EVEBYTIHNG IS HELTEB-SEELTEB, and nothing whoro yon want it. Half yonr fur niture is broken, and the other might as well bo, you think as you contemplate it. You fully resolve that you will never move again, and your house does not seem half as nice In reality as it did prospectively. The last load has come, how ever, ana it is nearly nightfall. Everything is ‘dampfrom the rain, and there is a prospect for colds and coughs, which shall be a family ail ment for some time to come. You have had some theological convictions also forced upon vour mind by the events of tho day. You liavo become a perfect convert to TOTAL DEPEiTVTTT, and doubt very much if baptism does cleanse from original sin. The boys have helped you to that conclusion, and you are determined that their holiday shall end at once, and they go back to school in the morning. A scream from below stairs, and you rush down to find Miss Four years-old has finished the day, and nearly her self, by tumbling down the stops, and you are glad, when you find the injury is not serious, that she can be “put in her little bed.**' The boys are almost tired into quietude, but an occa sional outburst, like the last fizz or snap of the few remaining Fourth-of-July crackers, remind you that they are not yet quite used up. At last, with such conveniences as you can ar range, you go to sleep in the now house, realiz ing that you have not a carpet that will fit, that you are tired out, and that it will be weeks be fore you will got settled down into routine and comfort once more. Who wouldn’t bo a free born American, and move at least once a year ? READING FOR THE SEASON. A Danbury Man anil. Elis Wife Hare an .Encounter with the Family Stove and Fiping-*»Tho Stove Comes Oil Victorious* From the Danbury Hews, \ Putting up a stove ii not bo difficult in itself. It is the pipe that raises four-fifths of the mis chief and all the dust. ; You may take down a stove with all the care in the world, and have your wife put away the pipe in a secure place, and yet that pipe won’t come together again as it was before. You find this out* when you ore standing on a choir with your arms full of pipe and your mouth full •of soot. Your wife is standing on* the floor in a position that enables her to see you, the pipe, and the choir, and hero she gives Utterance to those remarks that arc calculated to hasten a man into the extremes of insanity. Her dross, is pinned over her waist, and her hands rest on her hips. She has got one of your hats on her head, and your linen coat on her back, and a . pair of your rubbers on her feet. There is about five cents* worth of pot-black on her nose, and a lot of flour on her chin, and altogether she is a spectacle that would inspire a dead man with distrust. And while ‘ you are up there _ try ing to circumvent the awful contrari ness of the pipe, and telling that you know some fool has been mixing it, she stands safely oh the floor, and bom . bards you with such domestic mottoes as: “ What’s the use of swearing so ? ” “ Yon know no one has touched that pipe.’’ “ You ain’t got more patience than a child. 1 * “Do be careful of that chair.” And she goes off, and re appears with an armful of more pipe, and, be fore you are aware of it, she has got that pipe so horribly mixed up that it does seem no pieces are alike. You join the ends and work them to and fro, and to and fro again, and then you take them apart and look at them. Then you spread one out and jam the other together, and mount them once more. But it is no go. You begin, to think the pieces are inspired with life, and ache to kick them through the win dow. But she doesn*t lose her patience. She goes around with that awfully exasperating rigging on, with a length of pipe under each arm, and a long-handled broom in her hand, and says she don’t see how it is some people never have any trouble putting up a stove. Then you miss the hammer. You don’t see it anywhere. You stare into the pipe, along the mantel, and down on the stove, and off to the floor. Your wife watches you, and is finally thoughtful enough to inquire what you are looking after, and on learn ing. pulls the article from her pocket. Then you feel as if you could get out doors and swear a hole twelve feet square through a block of brick buildings, but she merely observes: “Why on • earth don’t you speak when you wont anything, and not stare around like a dummy ?” when that part of the pipe which goes through the wall is up, she keops it up with her broom, while you are making the connection, and stares at it with an intensity that is entirely un called for. All,the while your position is be coming more and more interesting. The pipe don’t go together, of course. The soot shakes down into your eyes and mouth, the sweat rolls down your face and tickles your chin as it drops off, and it seems as if your arms are slowly but surely drawing out of their sockets.' Here your wife comes to the rescue by inquiring if you are going to be all day doing nothing, and if yon thing her arms are made of cast iron, a-nd then the broom slips off the pipe, and in her endeavor to recover her hold she jabs you under the chin' with the handle, and the pipe comes down on your head with its load of fried soot, and the chair tilts forward enough to -discharge * your feet, and you come down on the wrong end of that chair with a force that would bankrupt a pile-driver. You don’t touch that stove again. You leave your wife examining the chair and be moaning its injuries, and go into the' kitchen and wash your skinned and bleeding hands with yellow soap. Then you go down street after a man to do the business, and your wife goes over to the neighbors’ with her chair and tells about its injuries, and drains the neighborhood dry of its sympathy long before you got home. Those Carpets* From the Utica Herald. The annual ceremony of taking up,, and whipping,' and putting down carpets is upon us. It is one of the ills which flesh is heir to, and cannot be avoided. You go home some.pleosant spring day, at peace with tho world, and find tho baby with a clean face, and get your favorite E adding for dinner. Then, your wife tells you ow much younger you are looking, and says THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, MAY 4, 1873, she really hopes she can turn that walking-dress she wore last fall, and save the expense of a new suit, and then asks you if you can’t just help her about taking up the carpet. If you are a fool, and you generally are by that time, you tell her of course you can, just as well as not. Then she gets a saucer for the tacks, and stands and holds it,, and you get the daw, and get down on your knees and begin to help her. You feel quite economical about the first throe tacks, and t&ko them out carefully and pnt them in the saucer. Your wife is good about holding the saucer, and be guiles you with an interesting story about how your neighbor’s little boy is not expected to live till morning. Then you corn© to the tack with a crooked head, and you get the claw under it and the head comes off, and the leather comes off, and the carpet comes off, and as it won't do to leave the tack in the floor, because it will tear thd carpet when .it is put down again, yon go to work and skin your knuckle, and got a sliver under your thumb-nail, and tell your wife to shut up about that everlasting boy, and moke .up your mind that it does not mako any differ ence about that tack, and so von begin on the corner whore tho carpet is doubled two or three times, and has been nailed down with a shingle nail. You don't care a continental about saving the nail, because you find that it is not a good time for the practice of economy; but you do feel a little hurt when both clauses break off from tho olaw, and the nail does not budge a peg. Then your manhood assorts itself, and yon rise in yonr might, cud throw the carpet claw at tho dog, and get hold of tho carpet with both hands, and the air is fall of dust and flying tacks, and thoro is a fringe of carpet yam all along by tho and tho baby cries, and the cat goes anywhere, anywhere out of tho world, and your wife says you ought to bo ashamed of -yourself to talk so, but that carpet comas up. Then you lift one side of tho stove, and your wife trios to get the carpet from under it, bat can't, because you are standing on it. 80 you try a now hold, and just after your back breaks, tho carpet is dear. You are not through yet. Your wife don't tell you any more little stories, but she gets your old coat and hangs it on you, and smothers you with tho carpet, and opens tho back door and shores you out, and inti mates that the carpet needs whipping. . 'When you hang the tormenting thing across the clothes-line the wrong way, and got it righted, and have it slide off into the mad, and hang it up again, and get half a pint of dost and three broken tracks snapped out of the northwest cor ner into your month by the wind, you make some observation which you neglected to men tion while in the house. Then you hunt up a stick and go for that carpet. • The first blow hides tho sun and all tho fair face of Nature behind a cloud of dust, and,right in tho centre of that cloud, with tho wind square in yonr face, no matter how you stand, you wield that cudgel until both hands ore blistered and tho mTIV of human kindness curdles in your bosom. • You can whip the carpet a longer or shorter period, according to tho size of your mad; it don't make any difference to tho carpet, it is just as dusty, and fuzzy, and generally disagree able after yon have whipped it two hours as it was when you commenced. Then you handle it np, with one comer dragging, and stumble into tho honso, and have more trouble with the stove, and fail to find any way of using tho car pot-stretcher while you stand on the carpet, and fail to find any place to stand off from the car pet, and you get on yonr knees again, while your wife holds tho saucer, and with‘blind confidence hands you broken tacks, crooked tacks, tacks with no points, taoks with no heads, tacks with no leathers, tacks with tho biggest' end at the point. Finally the carpet is down, and the baby comes back, and the cat comes back, and the dog comes back, and your wife smiles sweotly { and says she la glad that job is off her mind. As it is too late to do anything else, yon sit by the fire and smoke, with the inner consciousness that you are the meanest man in America. Tho next day you hear your wife tell a friend that she is so tired ; she took up output down that great heavy car pet yesterday. THE DYING STATESMAN. Elio Advice to His Son* From the Saeranento Union, At the door of death be lay with the shadows of the Sierras across his face. Ho sent for his son, and when his son come he said: My dear son, I am soon to leave this life and go into that condition whore, to tho unimagina tive mind, all is unsurveyed and uncertain. I am about to make an indefinite postponement and adjourn sine die, and I have sent for you, my son, that I may le&vo to you, for your guid ance when my term of election is over forever, and my return to my seat impossible, the sum of political and moral wisdom which has put upon my head the silver of years, and into my purse tho gold of the Government. Hy son, “It is thebeat government that God ever made.” Strive to bo loyal to it—it pays, my son, it pays ? You may be called* upon as I have been, to take part in conducting this great Government. You will find that the Government is “the pri maries,” and “ the primaries ” are mostly beer and whisky. Before the primary meeting has assembled, you will do well to “treat” as many of the crowd as you can; by any plausible excuse, invite them to “tako something;” and you will all en deavor to become about as near half drunk as you can. This is tho beginning of true pat riotism. You will bo told that important state matters require clear heads and clean hands; it is not so, my son. True patriotism begins in a fuddle, and ends in a muddle to all, save those who take a money advantage of it. After the “primary” of which X have just spoken is over, if your own party schemes have been successful, you will proceed with your friends to got drunk, and hurrah and talk an endless amount of patriotic lOvo in a florid and rhetorical style. If your party is defeated, you will get drunk with the other side to show that you are a clever fellow and not given to “ souring ” over defeat; and you will bo careful to declare that you hope the best man may win, and that it is all in the party, and that no power in the world can pre vent you from supporting tho whole ticket, lot who will be on it. Say this as often as you con —at least every time you take a “ diink;” and if you can drink os often as, or oftenor. than any voter at the “ primaries,” and still walk home, unsupported, vowing to the stars your fealty to the ticket, your fortune, with a little tact and prudence, is made. You have budded for a true patriot. You will now mako judicious haste to see each man who is elected by the “primaries” to the nominating convention. You will invite, if pos sible, each delegate to your private room, and bo patriotic with each. That is, you will order the “drinks,” and continue to talk and order tho “ drinks ” until you have felt your man thoroughly and put him to bed—drunk. Then you will have your head shampooed, take some sustenance, and away to fresh conquMts. Very much may be done in this way when all seems bad. I won my first nomination in this way, when the “primaries ” wore dead against me. Just as the convention is about to assemble you will proceed, as at tho “primaries,” to “treat” everybody, not forgetting the'outeidera. For, if you fire their hearts in your favor, their shout at the announcement of your name in the convention has a fine effect. I have known much good to bo done by this patriotic shout of the people. It means that you are a clover follow, and that the people, whose instincts are always right, are fond of you. After this convention has adjourned, if your eido has won, you will immediately invite all parties to “drink,” and, amid the chinking of glasses and the rolling of tobacco smoke, you will all, in a confused, diffusive, and gushing crowd, talk over the great and good days work. If you yourself are the principal candidate, you will shake hands with everybody, and take a “drink” with. him. He likes it. You will not be particular where you go or what you drink. You must, with gusto, pour down your throat anything that may bo sot out to you. To “go back ”on your “ liker ”is not patriotic. In that fatal way my opponent lost his nomination in 18G4. . , Now, my son, say that the convention has nominated you—or what is more customary, say the convention has conferred upon yon, through the power of their free franchise, this unsought and never-to-bo-bought, high and sa cred position—you will at once proceed to ride your county, district, or State, and “drink” with every man who nas a vote or can control one. You will “ drink ” with the old “ drinkera” out of respect to them: you will “ dnnk” with men who never “ drank” before because they respect and admire you and your position. And, before I forget it, my son, as I am grow ing weak, let me remind you to collect choice stories —witty, broad, gamoy stories, not above the most bratiah comprehension. These are very useful between “ dnnks” to rest on, and they cause people to remember you with pleasure. You will be told that, in all this, you are lower ing the moral standard of the country; but that is impracticable advice. The “moral standard” is for women and preachers: your business is with the 1 party standard.’? It la not for you to assume an elevation and beseech the people to come up, when the patriotic people are winking to you to comedown and “ treat” to the cigars says “ He that hum bleth himself shall be exalted.” Humbleth your aelf before the people I Serve them! Become their political bar-tender, and serve them! Servo them with beer and whisky I Lot them, know that you are not proud-—nothing mean about you. tion’s sure. ’ It may be a little hard on your stomach, but such is the fate of patriots. You must take mankind as you find them; and you will always find more patriots with stomachs than with brains. Strive to be in yourself the greatest good, and then follow the ™*Tinv “The greatest good to the greatest number.” If elected, as I doubt not you will be, you will, as soon as the returns are all in and sufficiently counted to assure yonr success, go with the whole crowd, with a hurrah, k to the nearest grogshop and “treat” and get drunk os rapidly and fool ishly as you can. You will mount the counter of ■ the shop, tramp triumphantly among the tumb lers—damn the expense, make it all right in the morning—and harangue the constantly-thirsty and ever-increasing crowd upon the glories of our beloved country, from the treason of Bene dict Arnold down to tho Pacific Bailroad. Yon will refer to the fact that we can whip all nations, particularly Groat Britain. You will at last, as you begin to sober up a little, lower your voice to a loving and sepulchral whisper, and pay a tribute to our national banner and the patriot fathers of the Republic—in which latter cata logue, may I ask you, my son, that you will re member me by saying, with tears in your eyes, among whom is numbered, lam proud to say, gentlemen, my reverend father. One or two campaigns like this will finish your apprenticeship to patriotism, hntnow, as you will begin to bo noticed os a promising Tnan j a greater degree of pradenco is advisable. All through your apprenticeship you will have observed to tell no he. The time to lie comes later in life. The people will not swallow a lie from a young man, knowing it to ho such. Yon may bo a fool and a drunkard, and yon may be more than a beast among the other sox, so long as you do not marry wherever yon mark (that la polygamy); yon may he a gambler and a horse racer, ana also keep a fighting dog; but you must not lie until yon are old enough and have earned sufficient fame to make the he stick. A useless lie is worse than an abstract truth, and to es pouse either will ruin a patriot. Let your humble followers tell your lies for you, and leave ab stract truths to philosophers, preachers, women, and editors. Let it bo tho rule of allyour life to attempt no good thing until yon arc sore it will win, and then, my son, study to bo loudest and most enthusiastic in your advocacy. Always wait for the public voice. The majesty of the public is your sovereign, and it is the duty of* a courteous and gallant knight to Hatter his liogo. This is true chivalry. Yon will bavo no opinion to express on reli gions matters, and, except in a .general rhetori cal way, will' avoid all mention of the public morals until the populace rise against some over hearing evil; then, my son, be prepared to take tho lead with a fire and fury of righteous indig nation which shall win golden opinion from oil sorts of people. Be careful to give something in a pleasant, os tentations manner, to all charitable institutions and petitions. I advise you to marry. And let your wife be one who may win to yonr side, or at least lend yon tho oars, of a large and influen tial class of church-going people: bat you must bo very careful, until late in life, to be in noway committed to any matters of belief. To be a believer is good in a follower, bat your leader never believes. As to cards—poker.' No true statesman in America plays anything but poker.. And if you will hand me a pack of my Congressional cards— from escritoire —in the stationery drawer under my 44 frank ”—I will show you tho best tricks in tho patriotic game. But alas, my dear sou, you need not get them. I forgot, in tho moment of bright memory, that I am too weak—too weak. I did hope to enow you the 44 committee shuffle,” and the “appropriation draw,” but, alas, fare well ! Man’s life is but a shadow. My son, my breath foils—l am faint—l cannot say much more. But there is a bright future be fore you. I shall leave you means enough to put you above being a “cheap” man. And I hope, since I have pointed out to you tho proper course, that you will invest yonr talents and character in the Government so that tho investment will pay—not the Government, hut you. Now draw near to me, that I may place my hand upon your head and confer npon you a father’s dying benisop. Bless you, my son, bless you! I bequeath to you my interest knd my solicitude in “the beat Gov ernment that God overmade.” Standby the Gov ernment, my son!—stand close to it—-cling to it —especially to the treasury of the country. Therein are tho solace of peace and the sinews of war. Watch over these—guard them, and, if yon can carry them homo with you to love and to cherish and, also— Here his jaw fell, his eyes sot, and tho soul of an American patriot statesman wended its way to the Now Jerusalem, where the 44 Streets are paved with gold and corner-lots are open to loca tion." BEAUTIFUL EYES.

Beautiful eyes—beautiful eyes,— Beep and dark as ore Southern skies; the violet that lies On the brink of some woodland fountain; Making one thtnfc of some *wildoring dream Hashing like dimples upon the stream That flows by the foot of the mountain. Beautiful eyes—beautiful eyes,— Holding forever some new surprise. As the long lashes droop slowly, or rise. Giving one glimpses of Paradise 1 O beautiful girl I thou art false, but fair ;■ Sunshine gleams over thy golden hair; Smiles part thy rod lips like blossoms rare; Haughty and stately, and queenly thine air,* But thy heart is like Alpine ice. Did yon ever think, when some tender word: Sped from your lips Hie a frightened bird. How deeply some waiting heart was stirred By that word so lightly spoken ? . Did you ever think of the pain that crept Into the heart where Hope had slept,— Of th*e bitter tears that perchance were wept Over the tows you bare broken 7 Beautiful eyes, oh 1 never again Q-an yon bold my heart with your subtle rbr.ln ; Never, with longings wild and vain. Shall I look in your depths with a thrill of pain, To read the story that yon might tell. Beautiful eyes, I am free from your spell; Beautiful siren, farewell—farewell. Garnet B. Freeman. FASHION. . From the Few Tort Evening Matt, • Opera-glasses are now carried en chatelaine by our holies. —Ladies' rainy-weather round hats are now trimmed with Busaia leather. .—Marie Antoinette sleeves are now worn in full dross. —The new bolts for ladies hay© the buckles at the back, with a heavy chatelaine-hook at the right side. —Feminine coiffures are drifting slowly back again to the old-fashioned chatelaine braids. —Amber jewelry is becoming very fashionable again; ft looks very well with light spring dresses. —The lost thing in ladies 1 adornments is a cor don of oxydizcd silver banging across tbo breast, with a heavy clasp at each shoulder. —Camping-out will be a moat fashionable amusement next summer. Several large parties of ladies and gentlemen are already arranging for the Adirondacks. —.Our belles present the appearance of pouter pigeons, in rafts of dimensions truly Eliza bethan. —The " swollest ” things in the way of ac ceptances and regrets are engraved after the fashion of wedding-cards, with blanks left for name and dates. —ln their costumes, our belles are adopting gradually the styles of a hundred years ago, and we piay soon expect to see them arrayed ui the stiffest farthingales the pencil of Holbein has bequeathed to posterity. —Very fashionable ladies find it impossible to navigate Fifth avenue unless they arc towed by elaborately gotten-np Spitz dogs. A placard ou the breast, with **jPity the blind” gorgeously illuminated thereon, is the anticipated adjunct to promenade toilettes. CONSOLATION FOR MOVERS. I would not live always; I ask not to stay Where they move every ear on the first day of 2lay; The dreaded May-myrning. that comes every year, Is enough for to one git lively from here. I would not live always—who is there that woulu 7 Where to move every year is accounted as good; And to HctoTi fm»h year to the curses and sighs That Tntngt* when May-day dissolves the home-ties. I would not live always; no, welcome the tomb; For there I shall find, at least, plenty of room. With no rent to pay, no reason to/#; No landlord to telf mo to git up and git, Chicago, May 1, 1873. —John Van Bohzn, of Fort Wayne, was play ing with a pistol in his house, the other day, when it went off and made an eyelet-hole in his hip.. If he was named Jones he might be called a Jones fool; if his name was Smith he might be called a Smith fool; but unhappily his is an other name.— Detroit Tribune, “KENELM CHILLINGLY.” A Scene from fjord Lytton’s Last Styvel. A Village Duel. [Kim elm ifl on a tour of adventure in rural England, and goes to work os a liny-maker for a former to whom ho is unknown. Tho former says to him:] * * Pooh I I don’t want to know more of a man’s affairs than he thinks fit to tell me. Stay and finish the hay-making. And I say, lad, I’m glad you don’t seem to care for tho girls; for I saw a very pretty one trying to flirt with you—and if you don’t mind, she’ll bring you into trouble. In fact, Jessio Wiles —that’s her name—is, I be lieve, a very good girl, and everybody likes her— perhaps a little too much; but ihon she knows she’s a beauty, and does not object to admira tion.” “ No woman ever does, whether she’s a beauty or not. But I don’t understand why Jessie Wiles should bring mo into trouble.” : “ Because there is a big bulking fellow who has gone half oafe of his wits for her; and when he fancies he sees any other chap too sweet on her, he thrashes him into a jelly. So, youngster, you j.uat keep your skin out of that trap.” . “ Hem! And what does tho girl say to those proofs of: affection ? Does she like tho man tho better for thrashing hor.admirers into-; jelly ?” “ Poor child! No ; she hates the very sight of him. But he swears she shall marry nobody else, if'bo bangs for it. . And to tell yon the truth, I suspect that if Jessie does seem to trifle with others a little too lightly, it is to draw away this bully’s suspicion from tbo only man I think she docs care for—a poor, sickly young fellow who was crippled by an accident, and whom Tom Bowles could brain with his little finger.” “This Is really interesting,” cried Keriolm, showifig something like excitement. “ I should like to know this terrible suitor.” “ That’s easy enough,” said tho farmer, dryly, u You have only to take a stroll with Jessie Wiles after sunset, and you'll know more of Tom Bowles than you are likely to forget in a month.” ‘ * Thank yon very much for your information,’ said Kcnelm, in a soft tone, grateful bat pensive. “ I hope to profit by it.” Konelm made no reply. They both walked on in silence, and bad now reached the centre of the village street, when Jessie, looking up, uttered an abrupt exclamation, gave an affrighted start, and then came to a dead stop. Kenelm’a eye followed the direction of hors, and saw, a few yards distant, at the other side of the way, a email, rod bnck house, with thatched sheds ad joining it, the whole standing in a wide yard over the gate of which loaned a man smoking a small cutty-pipe. “It is Tom Bowles,”- whis pered Jessie; and instinctively she twined her arm into Kenelm’s—then, as if on second thoughts, withdrew it, and said, still in a whis per, “ Go back now, sir—do.” “ Not I. It is Tom Bowles whom I want to know. Hush.” For here Tom Bowles had thrown down his pipe, and was coining slowly across the road toward them. Konelm eyed him with attention. A singularly powerful man, not so tall as Kenolm by some inches, but still above the middle height, hercu lean shoulders and chest, the lower limbs not in equal proportion—a sort of slouching, sham bling gait. As-he advanced, the moonlight fell on his face—a handsome one. He wore no hat, and his hair, a light brown, curled close. His face was fresh-colored, with aquiline features; his age apparently about six or seven and twenty. Coming nearer and nearer, whatever favorable impression the first glance at his physiognomy might have made on Konelm was dispelled, for the expression of his face changed, and became fierce and lowering. Konelm was still walking on, Jessie by his* aide, when Bowles rudely thrust himself between them, and seizing the girl’s arm with one hand, ho turned his face full • on Keuelm, with a menacing wave of the other hand, and said in a deep, burly voice,— “Who bo you?” 44 Let go that young woman before I tell yon.” * 4 If you weren’t a stranger,” answered Bowles, seeming as if ho tried to suppress a rising fit of wrath, “you’d he in the kennel for those words. But I s’pose you don’t know that I’m Tom Bowles, and I don’t choose tho girl as I’m after to keep company with any other man. So you be off.” “ And I don’t choose any other man to lay vio lent hands on any girl walking by my side with out telling him that he’s a brute; and that I only wait till he has both his hands at liberty to let him know that he has not a poor cripple to deal with.” * Tom Bowles could scarcely believe his oars. Amaze swallowed up for tho moment every other sentiment. Mechanically ho loosened his hold of Jessie, who fled off liko a bird released. But evi dently she thought of her new friend’s danger more than her own escape; for, instead of shel tering herself in her father’s cottage, she ran to ward a group of laborers, who, near at hand, had stopped loitering before the public-house, and re turned with those allies toward tho spot in which she had left the two men. Bho was very popular with the villagers, who, strong in tho sense of numbers, overcame their awe of Tom Bowles, and arrived at the place half running, half striding, in time, they hoped, to interpose be tween hia terrible arm and tho hones of the un offending stranger. Meanwhile Bowles, having recovered his first astonishment, and scarcely noticing Jessie’s escape, still left his right arm extended toward the place she had' vacated, and with & quick back-stroke of the left leveled at Kenolm’s face,growled contemptuously, “ Thou’lt find one hand onongh for thoo.” Bat, quick as was hia aim, Eonelm caught the uplifted arm just above the elbow, causing the blow to waste itself on air, and, with a simulta neous advance of his right knee and foot, dexter ously tripped up his bulky antagonist, and laid him sprawling on his back. The movement was so snadon, and the stun it occasioned so utter, morally as well as physically, that a minnto or more elapsed before Tom Bowles picked him self up. And he then stood another minute glow ering at his antagonist, with a vague sentiment r of awe almost like a superstitious panic. For it is noticeable that, however fierce and fearless a man or oven a wild beast may be, yet if either has hitherto been only familiar with victory and triumph, never yet having met with a foe that eonld cope with its force, thefirst effect of a de feat, especially from a despised adversary, un hinges and half paralyzes the whole nervous sys tem. But as fighting Tom gradually recovered to the consciousness of his own strength, and the recollection that it had been only foiled by the skillful trick of a wrestler, not the hand-to hand might of a pugilist, tho panic vanished, andToznßowles was himself again. “ Oh, that’s your sort, is it ?’* said ho. “We don’t fight with our heels hereabouts, like Comiahors and donkeys; we fight with oar fists, youngster; and since won will have a bout at that, why, you must. “ Providence.” answered Kenelm, solemnly, “ sent me to this village for the express purpose of licking Tom Bowles. It is a signal mercy vouchsafed to yourself; as you will one day ac knowledge.” Again a thrill of awe, something liko that which the demagogue Aristophanes might have felt when braved by the sausage-maker, shot through the valiant heart of Tom Bowles. He did not like those ominous words, and still less tbo lugubrious tone of voice in which they were uttered. But resolved, at least, to proceed to battle with more preparation than ho had first designed, he now deliberately disincombered iitmafllf of .his heavy fustian jacket and vest, rolled up his shirt-sleeves, and then slowly ad vanced toward the foe. Kenelm bod, also, with still greater delibera tion, taken of his coat,—which he folded up with care, as being both a now and an only one, and deposited by the hedgo-side—and bared arms, lean, indeed, and almost slight as compared with the vast muscle of' his adversary, but firm in sinew as the hind leg of a stag. By this time the laborers, led by Jessie, had arrived on the spot, and were about to crowd in between the combatants, when Kenelm waved them back, and said* in a calm and impressive voice: •‘Stand round, my good friends, mako a ring, and see that it is fair play on my side. I am sure that it will be fair on JXr. Bowles 1 . He’s big enough to scorn what il litfclo. And now, 3ir. Bowles, just a word with you in the pres ence of your neighbors. I am not going to say anything uncivil. If you are rather rough and hastv, a man is not always master of himself— at least so I am told—when ha thinks more than he ought to do about a pretty girl. But I can’t look at your face even by this moonlight—and, though its expression at this moment is rather cross—without being sure'that you are a fine fellow at bottom. And that, if you give a prom ise as man to man, you will keep it. Is that BO?” One or two of tho bT-standera murmured assent; tho others pressed around in silent wonder. “ What’s all that soft-sawder about ?” said Tom Bowles, somewhat faltcringly. “ Simply this: If in tho fight between na I beat you, I ask you to promise before your neighbors that you will not, by word or deed, molest, or interfere again with Mian Jessie Wiles." “Eli!” roared Tom. “Is it that you. are after her ?” “ Suppose I am, if that pleases you; and, on. my side, I promise that, if yon* heat mo, I quit this place oa soon as you leave mo yrell enough to do so. and will never visit it again. "What Ido fon hesitate to promise ? Are you really afraid shall lick you ?V. i “You! I’d smash a dozen of you to powder. 1 “In that case ybn are safe to promise. Come, ’tis a fair bargain. Isn’t it, neighbors ?” Won over by Keiielm’s easy show of good tem per, and by the sense of justice, the bystanders joined in a common exclamation of assent. : “ Come Tom.” said an old fellow, “ the gentle man can’t speak fairer; and wo shall all think you be afoared if you hold back.” • Tom’s face worked; but at last he-growled, “Well. I promise—that is, if ho beats me.” “Ail right,” said Kenelm. “Youhear, neigh bors ; and Tomßowles could not show that hand some face of his among you if ho broke his word. Shako hands on it.” ; • Fighting Tom sulkily shook hands; • “ Well, now,'that’s what I call English.” said Kenelm; “all pluck and .no malice. Fallback, friends, and leave a clcarspaco for us,” The men all receded ; and as Kenelm 1 took his ground, there was a supple ease in his posture, which at once brought out into clearer evidence the nervous strength of his build, and, contrast ed with Tom’s bulk of chest, made the latter look clumsy and top-heavy. The two men faced each other a minute, the eyes of both vigilant and steadfast. Tom’s blood began to fire up as he gazed—nor with all his outward calm, was Kenelm insensible' of that proud beat of. the heart which is aroused by the fierce joy of combat. Tom struck out first, and ‘ a blow was parried, but not returned; another - and another blow, still parried, still unreturned. Ken elm, acting evidently on the defensive, took the advantages for that strategy which he derived from superior length of arm and lighter agility of frame. Perhaps ho wished to ascertain the extent of his adversary’s skill, or to try the en durance of his wind, before he ventured on the hazards of attack. Tom, galled to the quick that blows which might have felled an ox were thus warded off from their mark, and dimly aware that he was encountering some mysterious skill which turned his brute strength into waste force, and might overmaster him in the long run, . came to a rapid conclusion that the sooner bo brought that brute strength to bear, the better it would be for him. Accordingly, after three rounds, in which, without once breaking the guard of his antagonist, ho had received a ‘few playful taps on the nose and mouth, ho drew back and made a bull-like rush at his foe—bull-llko, for it butted full at him with the powerful, down-bent head, and the two fists doing duty as horns. The rush spent, he found himself in the position of a man milled. I take it for granted tb&t every Englishman who can call himself a man—that is, every man who has been an English boy. and, as such, been compelled to the use of nis fists —knows what a “mill” is. Bat I sing not only “puoris,” but “.virginibus.” Ladies—“a mill” using, with reluct ance and contempt for myself, that slang, in which lady-writers indulge, and girls of the period know, much better than they do their Murray—“ a mill”—speaking not to lady writers, not to girls of the period, hut to in nocent damsels, and in explanation to those for eigners who only understand the English lan guage as taught by Addison and Macaulay—a “ mill” periphrastically, means this : Your ad versary in the noble encounter between fist and fist, has so plunged his head that it gets caught, os in a vise, between the side and doubled left arm of the adversary, exposing that head, un protected and helpless, to be pounded out of rec ognizable shapo by the right fist of the oppon ent. It is a situation in which raw superiority of force sometimes finds itself, and is seldom spared by disciplined superiority of skill. Kenelm, his right fist raised, paused for a moment, then loos ening the left arm, releasing the prisoner, and living him a friendly slap on the shoulder, he turned round to the spectators, and said, apolo getically, “Ho has a handsome face—it would be a shame to spoil it.” Tom’s position of peril was so obvious to ali, and that good-hnm6red abnegation of the ad vantage which the position gave to the adversary seemed so geneoons, that the laborers actually hurraed. Tom himself felt as if treated like a child; and alas, and alas for him 1 in wheeling round, and regathering himself up, his eyes rest ed on Jessie's face. Her lips were apart with breathless terror; he fancied they were apart with a smile of contempt. And now he became formidable. Ho fought as fights the bull in presence of the heifer, who, os he knows too well, will go with the conqueror. If Tom had never yet fought with a man taught by a prize-fighter, so never yet had Kenelm en countered a strength which, but for the lack of that teaching, would have conquered his own. Ho could act no longer on the defensive; ho could no longer play, like a dexterous fencer, with the sledge-hammers of those mighty .arms. They broke through his guard—then sounded on his cheat as on an anvil. He felt that did they alight on his head ho was a lost man. Ho felt also that the blows spent on the cheat of his ad versary were idle as the stroke of a cone on the hide of a rhinoceros. But how his nostrils dila- ted, his eyes flashed firo—Kenelm Chillingly had coaeed to be a philosopher. Crash came his blow—how unlike the swinging roundabout hits of Tom Bowles I—straight to its aim os the rifle boll of & Tyrolese, or a British marksman at Al dershot—all the strength of nerve, sinew, pur pose, and mind concentrated in its vigor—crash just at that part of the front where the eyes meet, and followed up with the rapidity of light ning, flash upon flash, by a more restrained but more disabling blow with'the left hand just where the left ear meets throat and jaw-hone. At the first blow Tom Bowles had reeled and staggered, at the second he throw up his hands, made a jump in the air as if shot through the heart, and then heavily fell forward, an inert mass. The spectators pressed round him in terror. They thought he was dead. Kenelm knelt, passed quickly his hand over Tom’s lips, pulse, and heart, and then rising, said humbly and with an air of apology: “ If he had been a loss magnificent creature, I assure you on my honor that I should never have ventured the second blow. The first would have done for any man less splendidly endowed by na ture. Lift Him gently; tako him home. Tell his mother, with my kina regards, that Til call and see her and him, tp-morrow. And stop, docs he over drink too much beer ?” “Well,” said ono of tho villagers, “ Tom can drink.” “I thought so. Too much flesh for that muscle. Go for.the nearest doctor. You, my lad?—good—off with you—quick I No danger, but perhaps it may be a case for the lancet.” Tom Bowles was lifted tenderly by four of the stoutest men present and borne into hia home, evincing no signs of consciousness; but his face, where not clouted with blood, very pale, very calm, with a slight froth at the lips. Konelni pulled down his shirt-sleeves, put on his coat, and turned to Jessie: “ Now, my young friend, show me Will’s cot- girl came to him white and trembling. She did not dare to speak. The stranger had become a new man in her eyes. Perhaps he frightened her as much as Tom Bowles had done. But sho quickened her pace, leaving the public house behind, till she came to the farther end of • the village.; SOLOMON RAY. A hard, close sum was Solomon Bay; Nothing of value ho gave away ; He hoarded and saved. And he pinched and shaved; And the more he had, the more be craved. Tho hard-earned dollars he toiled to gain Brought him little but care and pain • For little he spent. And all that ho lent He made it bring him twenty per cent. This was tho life of Solomon Bay. The years went by, and bis hair grew gray ; Bis cheeks grew thin ; And his heart within Grow hard as the dollars he worked to win. Bat ho died ono day, os all men must, For life is fleeting, and man but dust; And the heirs were gay That laid him away; This was the end of Solomon Bay. They quarreled now, who had little cared For Solomon Bay while his life was spared ; TTta lands were sold. And hia hard-earned gold All went to the lawyers, I am told. Yet men wifi pinch, and cheat, and rave, Nor carry their treasures beyond ths graves; All their gold, some day, Will melt away, TJba the selfish savings of Solomon Bay. Buozms J. TTat.t^ Singular Cause of Fire. A legal gentleman, in oneof onr large Eastern cities, upon entering his office one summer morning, found the loose papers ca his table just starting into a light flame, which surpfil him greatly, os there was no Are in the rod:', that time, neither was it apparent how !>■) could have ignited from any external c*t[\ the windows being closed. This happ«f* several mornings in succession, but ono di i arrived at his office earlier than usual and ' j •ceoded in detecting the origin of the fire. I- . l ting at his table, ho felt n burning sensr: * upon ono of his hands, which graduallyincro; until it became insupportable; and on lookin'; the window through which the sun was shir'i : he noticed that ono of the panes of glass}:'; bubble or flaw in it which served to cooceni l the ravs of light in the same manner as a hi inff. glaea. and with sufScent power to icf ' paper in a few minutes. Tbo dangerous was ot once removed, end with it the cause •: • * mysterious conflagration, L : SUSIOS. The Indian Question—* rum ? ” —Why is a lady crossing the Atlantic like foreman of a factory ? Because she's an ojj sea-her. *;t£ —Advertising does pay. A Hampshire Co:£ ; * (Maas.) farmer, who has advertised Ills claims to have fed out 100 barrels of pats to£» horses of persons who have been to seoi place. k; —The phenomenon on the New York says approvingly of a thief who stole posf:j from the Soldiers’ Home, in Madison, W:s.: V;? all the hens thou aimest at be thy country's.' —A little lady in Schenectady recently word toiler aged P. in New York that abokh.'i be excused from writing a longer - letter. | had spent a very restless night with a sick j —A Chinese servant was brought homo gentleman of the house, and his mistress ed. his name ; “ Yung Hoo Win.” she, “I cannot call you that, I will coil* Charley.” ‘‘What’s your name?” he aske* | return. “My name is Mrs. John Brown:*., :*■ “ Welle, I caile you John!” exclaimed the Ck 7! tial. 7; —A sentimental young man thus feelingly. \ presses himself: “Even Nature benevolo •; guards the rose with thorns: docs she tu ; women with pins ?” .—•The new dictionary will define delirium v i mens as a tight fit. ; i —Quin’s after-thought was a happy one. wl : after tolling Lady Berkeley she looked as bl-x » ing as the spring, ho remembered the sea ; was anything but a bright one, and added: ;• wish the spring 'could look like your ladyship 1 —At a lato Conference session a clorgyV * gave a reason why the Baptist Church ie lik- | beaver’s hnt: “ There is only one entrance tc l and that is underwater.” ' Si —A local paper warns its fair readers that -| sidewalks in Omaha abound in holes “the - of a lady’s foot,” and in another column rcco; ; ! that a boy 6 years oldfoll into one of them other day. —This motto stands at the head of the Alb 1 (Qa.) Neics : It U not rank, nor birth, nor state. But the get-up-and-get, that nukea men great —The Australians never sue for diva' i When a husband gets discouraged, ho takes ] wife to the brow of a cliff to view the gorge ’ sunset, and over she goes. —A retired sea Captain, who had made ; tour of continental Europe and the Holy Ls;'' : was asked how he was impressed byhis Vinir | Jerusalem. “Jerusalem,” said he, “is meanest place I ever visited! There is nc, i drop of liquor in the whole town fife to drink. 1 , —A young poet once asked Douglass J crrolv . pass a candid criticism on two of his prcc tions. Jerrold waited rather impatiently u: : his tormentor had concluded reading the T . poem, and then quickly exclaimed, “I like y. . other poem the best.” “Eat you have not he ' it read.” “ That is why I prefer it.” —An inquirer after scientific information , Concord, N. H., recently asked an apothcc* ; “ What is this now disease—this Cerro-Gor; ..i final-Macginnie—the papers say so much abou : —A Kansas district school was recently visi : and addressed by Messrs. Big Mouth, Povr ; Face, and Spotted Wolf—all the noblest kinc; noble red men. A mischievous school 1. ’ placed a pin tiap whore Big Mouth sat dov and that chieftain was observed to risohos • and remark: “ Ugh! too much fice bite. Me ■ stay to hear class in Analytical Geology.” Tl. he loft. —Useful Etotor (to Ornamental bister, who' been bewailing the dullness of her existence : last hour)—** Bella, you’re the most egotist* ; creature I ever met in my life!” Bella (v ; -; always gets out everything with a joke)—“ \S" ■; Jane, if I am egotistical, at all events it's o' ; about myself 1” —Recently a minister concluded his sent as follows: “But! hear the rustling of silks ' the pews, as if some of the ladies were impath.. io leave; I will, therefore, say God bless you : —A young lady of this ci ty was recently atri : with the uselessness of her life, and irnmc ; ately went to work with vigor to learn plain st ing. At latest dates she had hemmed one oidc & towel, which the proud parents have frac and hung in a conspicuous position in their p. lors. —ifeio York Mail. j) —An Oregon paper refers to a now editor a $ rival sheet as a “ young gentleman of fro 73 mental capacity.” j . —The New Hampshire youth who sent his c r j lar for a “ wonderful discovery” for enticing f-'; to bite, received by return mail a lithograph rr-'. resenting an ancient fisherman asleep on a l*y with the simple word “ Patience” in large lett 3 upon his hat. Underneath, “ Fifty tiiouaa * sold.” —The other morning, a tolerably well dress/ but wild-eyed, gentleman called Mayor Maczf ley to one side, in the City Court-room, and sf . he wanted something done with his wf* “What’s the matter?” inquired Hia Hon : ' * 1 She keeps giving me pills,” was the reply. wouldn’t take’em,” said His Honor. “1 ca help it,” said the injured husband; “ eho gh ’em. to me when Fm asleep.” • “I’d wear a mt zle,” said his Honor. The injured huebgf started. He hadn’t thought of that. —lndie apolis Herald. —Here is a new story of Charles Dickens: . Oxford undergraduate, with the natural mode -- of the race/sonfe to the editor of Housefly Words, at tno end of the Crimean war, a copy!: versos on the return of tho Guards, with tl : note:- “Sir—Understanding that ■ you ins** rhymes in your serial, I send you some,” which Dickens answered: “Sir—Wo don’t - sert rhymes without reason.” —Two French ladies were looking for the f tie daughter of ono of them in a group of ba ; carriages. “Do you see him ?” asked tho frie- : of the mother. “Him?” lam looking for h--z nurse.” “Her nurse?” “Yes, all childr; % look alike. I know the nurse, ana I can find t- ' child best in that way.” “As for think all Vonnes look alike.” “ How do you fl yours, then ?” “ Oh, I know the soldier who \'■ her beau.” —The reputation of members of tho Lcgis' ; ture for sobriety seems to bo rather bad in K4z.- tucky. Two of them wore rather noisily dru' • on a railroad train the othor day, and when t| conductor remonstrated, one of them pompom-' - asked: “Do you not know, sir, that I an; * member of tho Legislature?” The conduct; quietly replied, “ You’ve got the symptoms.” \ j —A brilliant instance of joking under difficli - tics lately occurred at Bed Bluff, Cal. Tbo jok| was M. J. Donohue, wnose span of life had be-.-: limited by duo process of law. He came to tri _ scaffold in buoyant spirits, and seemed to be lighted with the prospect of getting out of world so soon. His remarkable gayety com - pletely unnerved the Sheriff and tho twenty} - thirty friends who were to see him off. Wh; ’ . the Sheriff put the noose over Donohue’s hetf - J he turned to tho officer with a bland smile, ai/j! said: “ 1 say, Sleetb, can’t you put that until y my arms?—l was always.ticklish round t|'f neck.” These were tho humorist’s last words4‘t —There was-an elderly gentleman wending h-r. way to the barber-shop, Saturday aftemoo ■ Coming from an opposite direction was au u/v shaven man. The snap lay between them. Tf£ unshaven quickened his stop; tho elder 1 -j man struck into a trot. Than tho unshaven m&'i stopped to look into a window, and tbo man came back to a walk. Up started tho uAi* shaven man again, and the olderly man reEum.jl his trot. The unshaven man once more slackefcl ed up; so did tbo elderly man. Then the u:|f shaven man quickened his gate, and the elder!•? man once more struck into a trot, and reach**; tbe door panting and puffing as tho unsharp; man went by. And yet women are dissatiafle i with their sphere.— Danbury Nercs, ]£. —No dona so dark that there is not light b-fj, hind. A wretched little 10 year old bov, ragged' and almost bare-footed, drifting along Detrcj streets one day last week, was asked where lr3 father was. “ Dead.” responded tho young gcv:r tleman, amiably. “ Whore’s vonr mother h-' “ Bnn away,” he answered. Hia interlocutor eri iressod sympathy, and observed that he mustfe# onesome. Did this interesting child wipe tho c*** of selfish sensibility at this speech ? No; his n‘ : ture ran in broader, moro humanitarian, aril’ artistic channels. • His youthful, noble county* nance glowed and brightened, and an exult smile played upon hia Bps. The purest, swc«f. eat dreams of hia early years, and tender anticjl Rations of the-future, mingled in thatsmil-g ■iOnesome? “Not a hit of it,” exclaimed tliS. brave boy. “ there’s goin* to be tho biggeet r cub here next month you over set ev<£ 3 There is a striking resombl&nce in - p tween this' true-hearted youth ,r^f erdlfl r §*■ child, who, on being told tW-k** o nursed ■*. at sea, burst Into tears, reme* 10 process of r; best jack-knife with him.” 4 Vf 7 II ■“‘White man gotKU