THE PAST IS MINE.
O Memory! O Memory !
Adown thy paths 1 love to stray.
And view, now here, some lovely" flower
Kow there, a bramble by the way.
For who may pierce, with backward glance,
The vista of the perished years,
And not discern some olden 111
That fills the eye with bitter tears!
With vines that trip and thorns that wound,
The bramble well may typify
Those errors of impulsive youth
That cause old age the burdened sigh.
But then there comes the image fair
Of one who blessed our early days,
Whose presence seemed a spirit sent
From those who walk celestial ways.
Tbe soft caress, the gentle voice,
That wooed the wearied soul to rest
Oh, hor they thrill the elder life
Now swiftly sinking to its west!
So bare of ill, so filled with good.
Thy paths, though long, appear to me,
I fain would linger in them oft,
O Memory ! O Memory !
H. H. Xewhatt, in The Current.
A STORY OF A BOOK.
I should like to tell my story, for
it seeuis to me that in the great mul
titude of companions which pour into
the world every year, little ones like
me are forgotten.
Every one knows what the outside
of a book is red, yellow, green or
purple in color, lettered in silver, let
tered in red, oblong and square, fat
and thin. Every book has some shade
of difference, which may distinguish
it. It is true we come in tribes by
hundreds after one pattern and lately
the most popular cover or dress a book
can wear is paper lettered with black,
and the letters stretched across the
cover, and are not at the back of the
volume, as used to be the case.
Where do we all come from ?
Whither are we going? are ques tions
which I think I may ask, without run
ning the risk of being thought vain.
1 know where 1 came from that is,
the heart and core of me; and I wish,
as I said before, to relate my history.
I mu3t go back some way to get to tiie
beginning of things, and that begin
ning takes me to a dull, dreary lodg
ing in a dull, dreary back street in
London. I was born there. When
the baby wa3 asleep in the cradle,
when the husband was away at his
work in the postoffice, when notice
this the last 'stocking was mended
my author would get out an old case,
open sundry sheets of lined paper,
and with a smile on her lips, dip" the
pen into the ink and let me grow
under her hand.
She was very happy when she was
making me the vehicle in her thoughts
pure, bright thougts they were
and whatever merit I possess came
from her. who told out her thoughts
on the lined paper, and.made me.
She kept this work of hers a secret.
Sometimes I heard her telling her
baby that mother was writing a story
that, perhaps, when it was published,
it would make her fortune and then,
oh! the joys that would come the
country home instead of furnished
rooms, the flowers and the brightness,
"like my old, old home, baby!"
And little by little I grew, and the
-old case was full, and" at last I was
finished. Rather this first part of my
life my best part was over. Then
came many a journey for me. As I
was born in London, from whence
books are all sent out into the world,
I was not committed to the post, but
my dear author wou'.d tie me up neat
ly, and tuck me under her arm and
set forth with me.
She would wait patiently
come great pundit who was
Qounce on my merits. She
anxious about my fate that
feel her heart beating, as she
to see
to pro
was so
I could
waited
with me, and even when sie received
axe back a tear dropped upon me, and
often heard her say :
"I must give you up, my poor little
book; you have no chance among
thousands, of course not. I was so
illy to think so. I will not try any
more."
But she did try it again, and I was
received. I had been received before,
but now I was unrolled and read.
When my dear author came back to
"bear my doom, the man who had me
(aid his hand upon me and said:
"This is- nice story; it is not a
novel and yett t is full of interest. I
will undertake to publish it."
"Will you pay for it?" she asked.
"Well, no; I will, bring it out. and if
you deposit thirty pounds, I will share
the profits if it succeeds."
"I can not pay you any money,"
was the answer in a "low tone, "fori
have none. I want money from you."
The publisher stroked his beard; he
aad a long beard, for it tickled me as
he bent over me.
"My dear young lady, that is always
ibe cry of young authors; but the har
vest is not reaped directly the seed is
own. You must be patient."
"Give my story back to me," my
author said in a trembling voice. "I
jan not let you have it for nothfng."
I was beinw rolled up, and a thick
elastic band clicked over me, when an
other voice was heard:
"Mr. Best, let me speak with you a
moment."
Then I was laid down on the table,
ind I could hear the sighs of my dear
author as she sat near me.
After a few minutes, the gentleman
with the beard came back, and a
younger gentleman with him.
"We think, madame, we will under
sake to publish this book, and pay
fan ten pounds on the day of issue.
Fhe truth is my partner thinks highly
it; forgive me, more highly than I
io, and bv his desire I male you this
ffer." "
So I was left on the table, then
mrown into a deep drawer, from
whence I was taken one morning and
torn assunder.
A small part of me was sent off to
the printers, being first marked by the
ftand of some one who read me.
Very soon after my arrival at the
printer's office my fair pages were
smeared with black fingers, and 1 was
rd up before a man with a pair
f keen eyes, and I heard him
mutter:
"Plain writing for once, that's a
mercv a woman's too."
Then another voice called out:
"You are lucky. I have been puz-
eling over this sentence for an hour;
can't make head or tail of it," while
mother grumbled:
"These proofs are so scrawled over,
I'll just send them back to Mr. Best.
I ain't going to spend my life over
'em."
From first to last I heard no grum
bling about myself. All went smooth
ly, and my dear author would smile
and sing over me as the proofs of my
progress came by the post to her twice
a week.
The great day came at last. After
I had been punched and flattened and
stitched, I was inclosed in a modest
gray b.nding with silver letters, and
was published!
Ah, me! with what crowds of other
books did I make my debut into the
wholesale publisher's ware-house,
where we were all ranged on shelves
waiting for orders.
Some were sent for review, some to
the trade; one, with ten pounds, to my
dear author.
Who of all the people that glanced
at me guessed the labor which had
been bestowed on me in my creation,
and the joy which I gave when
I lay complete on the breakfast
table one dark December morn
ing? How proud was the young hus
band ! How he took me up and ad
mired my binding, mv silver letters
and my title. By the by, I have never
told you my name. It was "Bright
Days."
"This is a bright day to me, dar
ling," said the husband, hugging mo
and the baby and my author in one
fervent embrace.
Then the ten pounds were examined
the crossed check!"
"Payable to you," she said, "so you
must take the money. I am onlv a
woman, so I can't take my wage. So
nice that it is yours!"
How happy they were! how full of
bright plans and schemes! That ten
pounds was an El Dorado thai check,
signed by Messrs. Best & Crowe, like
a banner of victory.
And now 1 must go to l6ss pleasant
subjects. I was not a succe s com
mercially hardly a failure, but not a
success.
Thousands passed me in the race.
Books full of dark deeds cheating,
murder, and the like sold. Books
full of affected flights of ajsthetic
culture and lofty agnostic teaching,
sold; but I was passed by.
I must speak as a noun of multi
tude, for a certain freemasonrv is
established among us as a tribe, "and
we know pretty well by results what
has happened.
"Bright Days," the appearance of
which caused such pleasure in that
dull little Loudon lodging, was lent to
admiring friends and read; it was lent
to others, and dismissed with faint
praise.
A great critic in literature called it
goody, another dull; a third laughed
over it with his clever wife, and wrote
what he thought a stinging piece of
satire only a few lines. "Bright
Days" was not worth more!
"Will you take another story?" my
author asked of Mr. Best.
"Well, I am afraid" and the beard
was stroked thoughtfully "I am
afraid not at our risk; we must waij.
Autumn sales may effect 'Bright
Days.' But, to tell you the honest
truth, there is not a spice of wicked
ness in the tale to insure its success
with novel readers, no very startling
interest, no tragic incident pray for
give my candor and then, for the
stricter folk, there is not enough said
of religion. Though some call you
'goody,' others think you worldly.
Your heroine goes to a dance, aud
once even to the theater, and, ridicu
lous as it may seem, that is enough to
check the circulation in some homes."
"So you think I had better never
write another book?" my author said,
in that sweet, low voice of hers, which
I well knew was the sound of repress
ed tears.
"1 would not go so far as that.
Your story is true to life a little too
true; it is well written; there are beau
tiful passages in it; but, to sum up in
a few words, ''Bright Days' is not a
success."
Well, there are different notions as
to success, but it seems to me that T
did not altogether fail when a letter,
like the one which I heard my au
thor's husband read to her, was "writ
ten about me.
It came the very next day after the
interview with Messrs. Best & Crowe;
it was addressed to their care, and
duly forwarded. My aear author
tried to read it, but the baby snatched
at it and tried to thrust the crumpled
page into her mouth, and the young
mother handed it to her husband, say
ing: "Do read it for me; I can not imag
ine who wrote it."
"It is about 'Bright Days,'" her
husband said, and I, lying on the
writing table, heard my name, and
was all attention.
The letter was as follows:
"Woodchestek Manoh, May 18.
"Dear Madasi Will you forgive
me for addressing you? I am a
stranger to you, or "rather I was a
stranger a week ago. Now I feel as
if I had found a friend in you, and I
must needs tell you so. 1 am a pris
oner to a sofa; all manly exercises in
which others of my age delight, are
denied to me. I have found my con
dition a sore trial of patience, "and 1
know. I have been a sore trial to the
patience of others. A few days ago a
box of books came from Mudie's. My
servant unpacked the volumes as
usual, and at my request read me the
titles.
"At last he came to 'Bright Days.
One Volume. By Cara Cameron, Best
and Crowe.'
"The very title seemed a little in
appropriate. I tossed the book aside,
aud, for a day or two, greedily de
voured the novels in three volumes,
which took precedence in your story,
dear madam. But at last, sick with
the repetition of the same incidents,
tragedies, flirtations, and even worse,
I took up 'Bright Days.' I read it
once, and read it again, more careful
ly. The prison doors seemed to open
by it3 power, a new life was kindled
in me by your words. Words of en
couragement to endure, of spirit to
take up the work God has given, not
to flinch from service.even service like
mine, poor and faint, the power of en
durance, not gloomily not grudgingly
given, but lightlv and cheerfully.
Your heroine lives for me. I hear her
voice and see her smile. 'Bright Days
indeed she makes for those about her,
and in making them she makes hei
own. Beautiful is the influence she
exercises over the most unpromising
husband the sunshine of the little
home, where she faithfully fulfills hei
mission!
"Dear madame, go on and prospei
in your work. Doubtless you have
reached many hearts beside mine,
though others may not have been so
bold as I in daring to tell you what
you have done. May God reward you
a hundredfold for 'Bright Days,'
which has pierced the clouds and
gloom of a self-seeking, self-engrossed
life, and has made me ever your
faithful, grateful friend,
'Arthur Pierpoimt.
P. S. May I hope for one word in
reply, to show you are not angry with
me, and to tell me that you are writ
ing another book?"
"'After all then 'Bright Days' was a
success," the husband said, as he re
turned the letter. "My darling, you
should laugh and be glad, not let
tears fail on the poor baby; give her
to me."
"Oh! they are happy tears and to
think after all, that my poor little
book has not altogether failed. 1
really think I will begin again this
evening when all is quiet, aud I will
write to my unknown friend and tell
him the title of my new story shall be
'H pe Fulfilled.' "
I think, in conclusion, I may ven
ture to say that I, the book who has
here related its own history, was not,
nav, is not, a failure, but rather that
"Hope will be fulfilled," aud that
Cara Cameron will be known before
long as the successful author of
"Bright Davs." Emma Marshall.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
Ways of Lawyers.
A young attorney was accosted by
an acquaintance yesterday with the
comiuou-place salutation:
"How do you do?"
"As there is nothing to do," was
the nonchalant reply, "it is immaterial
as to how it is done."
"Does the depression in commercial
circles affect the law business gener
ally for the worse? I should suppose it
would give it an impetus."
"The business is not so very bad, ex
cept among young attorneys. Depres
sion in business is not the sole cause
of our ill-luck. Older attorneys, and
some of them having a lucrative prac
tice in the higher courts, are getting
in the habit of descending to justice
courts even in matters of small ac
count. It is true that some older law
yers make a practice of turning over
petty suits to younger men, but they
are few."
"Are collections from clients becom
ing more difficult?"
"Somewhat; but he is a poor lawyer
who can not collect his fee. There are
certain well-known attorneys recog
nized in the profession as model law
yers, able speakers, and good counsel,
who bind their clients with a rock-ribbed
contract. If money can not be
paid them, their chattels are accepted
in lieu. A very well known attorney
recently made it a condition of a con
tract of this kind that in case the
money was not forthcoming, then he
was to receive the seal skin sack which
his lady client wore. Others will not
take a case without what is known as
a retainer, which is nothing more than
part pay in advance. Not a few law
yers of a certain class are willing to
take cases making their pay contingent
upon winning the case. Of course the
pay is .commensurate with the risk,
and is usually half the amount sought
to be recovered: but I have known a
case In which three-fourths was allot
ted. These, of course, are desperate
cases which no reputable lawyer
would take, and indeed which no at
torney with but little or no reputation
as such would touch unless constrained
to do so by the hope of winning the re
ward and a peal from the bugle of
fame." Detroit Post.
Falling Hall a Mile.
The greatest balloon feat I ever
witnessed, writes a-correspondent in
The Philadelphia Times, was in Sep
tember, 1858. Upward of 15,000 peo
ple were at Lemon Hill and.alonj the
banks of the Schuylkill to see M.
Godard go up in a balloon along with
his brother and drop the latter out
from among the clouds in a parachute.
It is said that the feat had never been
attempted before in the history of
ballooning; it was a startling noyeltyr,
and the people crowded to see it.
When the bailoon sailed graceful''
upward outside of the inciosure M.
Godard and two friends were in the
basket, while below it M. E. Godard,
his brother, was seated upon a small
bar of wood attached to the parachute.
It looked like an immense umbrella.
The balloon went over the Schuylkill
in a southwesterly direction, and
after it had rdached an altitude of
about 6,000 feet began to slowly de
scend. Then the parachute be
gan to expand. When within about
3,000 feet of the earth the cord was
cut and' the parachute rapidly de
scended, with Godard hanging on to
the bar. The balloon shot upward
again. The descent of the parachute
was keenly watched by the thousands
of spectators, and many expected to
see the daring man dashed to the
earth in the twinkling of an eye. It
was observed, however, that the
nearer to earth the parachute came
the descent was slow aud easy. At
last the man and his big umbrella
faded out of sight over the hills, and
we learned next morning that he came
down all right on his feet, like a cat,
about a half mile west of the old Bell
tavern, on the Darby road. The bal
loon landed in Delaware county, near
the Philadelphia line. Godard and
his brother were Frenchmen. They
returned to their native country, and,
I believe, were valuable to their coun
trymen during the Franco-Prussian
war. Gambetta sailed out cf Paris to
Tours in one of their balloons.
Thp McYcle is to be offlciallv Introduced int
the Bavarian army. A number of the soldierj
Of the garrison of Munich are at present doing
orderly service for the puipose of trying the
practicability of the "wheel."
.The studio of Rozzi, the painter, was filled
with animals which reminded one of pictures
of Noah's ark.
Sequel to the Bloodiest Fight of the Franco
Chinese War A Demand for Absinthe
The Siege of Tnyen Quan.
Returning after the battle to my
boat, which had come with the convoy
to Hoaimoc, writes a correspondent at
Tuyen Quan, Tonquin, to The St. Lou
is Globe-Democrat, I remained the
night of the 3d, and came up to Tuyen
Quan on the 4th, ireceding the junks
by som'e distance.' The country on
either side appeared dserted. There
was not even a little basket boat to
give a shadow of animation to the
river. Signs of war were numerous.
Headless bodies, horribly swollen and
mutilated, occasionally floated past.
Burned houses of the Anainese, some
times with the bodies of the former oc
cupants in the ruins, were frequently
seen along the banks. Neither Chinese
nor Anamese pirates were visible,
though either, such was the intense
loneliness, might safely have plied
their trade of war, robbery or murder
without molestation from the French,
who were resting from their long
marches and hard lighting in the de
serted temples of Tuyen Quan. J ust
below the town there were rapids rush
ing like a millrace, up which the crew
dragged the boat with the greatest dif
ficulty. On the sandy beach opposite,
half a mile distant from the citadel,
were strewn dead bodies of Chinese
killed by the sharpshooters of the gar
rison. " As I crossed the river and ap
proached the landing, I met with a
curious illustration of a national appe
tite. Just abreast the citadel lay a lit
tle awkward gunboat, having a ram
and carrying two guns, which had
been in the river before the siege com
menced, unable to escape on account
of low water. It was called the Mitail
leuse. As I neared this queer-looking
craft a sailor, who thought that every
boat not employed by the government
belonged to a sutler, leaned far out
over the water, and ' as soon as he
thought he could make me hear with
out being himself heard by his vigilant
captain, hoarsely whispered the word
"absinthe." It was his own thought
after five weeks of short rations and
bloody siege. Neither soldiers nor
sailors had'long to wait for this insane
liquor, for a ftw hours later several
cantiners arrived with enough of it to
madden an army twice as large as that
which was now "so anxiously awaiting
their appearance.
A person who sees Tuyen Quan for
the first time is not prepared to under
stand its strategic value and the rea
sons for its retention by the French.
It is about one hundred miles from
Hanoi, the capital, and about sixty
from the mouth of the tortuous and
troublesome river Claire. There was
formerly a town of several thousand
inhabitants, but now nothing remains
but some temples some of them large
and handsome; some pavements o the
principal streets, and a few ruined
walls and fountains that show where
the Chinese merchants once lived.
The temples stand on both sides of the
river. One or two of them had bells
of exquisite tone, which are now used
by one of the battalions for striking
the hours, their solemn sounds at
night seeming weird among these war
like surroundings. The citadel stands
near the bend of the river, and around
it to the south and west stretches a
broad plain, now green and desolate,
but formerly covered with fields of
rice, maize, sugar-cane, aud gardens.
The plain merges, at a distance of a
few miles, in low, wooded hills, on
whose slopes the tents, the smoke, and
some of the redoubts and block-houses
of the black-Hags can still be seen.
Within the limits of the stream a few
low mamelous slightly diversify the
prospect. A little further off the hills
become mountains of bold but always
pleasing outline, always covered with
grass or trees to the summit. Around
a mamelon fifty or sixty feet in height
the citadel is built. It is in the usual
design of all these structures, erected
in 1805 by the emperor of Tonquin,
under the direction of the French en
gineers who came with the expedition
of the bishop of Adran, and of a size
corresponding to the supposed wants
of the p'aee they were expected to de
fend. These were placed at Nandinh,
Ninbinh, Quang Yen, Hanoi, Babninh,
Sontay, and other places in and about
the delta, and at such outlying posts as
Langson, Coabang, Tuyen Quan.
Hunghoa. and a few other points of
less importance. That at Hanoi is the
most imposing. It is at least three
miles in circumference. That at Son
tay is perhaps two miles in circumfer
ence, while that at Tuyen Quan has a
circuit of probably not more than two
thirds of a mile. There is usually a
wall twenty or twenty-five in height,
not crenellated, a moat, and a glacis.
Sometimes tbe upper portion or the
wall is pierced for small arms. The
mamelon within the citadel at this
place is surrounded by a block-house,
built by the French, whose guns easily
conimand the entire plain, the op
posite side of the river, aud the slopes
of the nearest hills.
The siege of Tuyen Quan will not
rank with that of Rochelle, London
derry, or the Netherland cities, so
graphically described by Motley. But
it has been hotly pressed by the
Chinese, heroically defended by its
garrison, aud for a long time has been
a source of anxiety to the military
authorities of Tonquin. The garrison
comprised 384 French and 150 Anamese
soldiers, commanded by Capt. Domine,
chief of battalion. The first attack
was made by the Chinese on the 26th
of January, and thenceforward till the
3d of March it was a continued strug
gle, with cannon, musketry, or with
mines, for which the Chinese show re
markable patience and aptitude. The
number of the besiegers was never
really known, for they were rarely
seen during the day. They made their
advances and constructed their paral
lels during the night, and usually ex
ploded their mines at'daylight. There
were supposed to be about fifteen
thousand, including a force of Chinese
regulars and nearly all the black flags
in Western Tonquin, commanded by
Liu Vinh Fook (or "Phuoc," as the
French spell it), the redoubted com
mander of the battle of Sontay. The
French held the block-house and cit
adel, and the Tonquinese a large
Buddhist temple, under some splendid
trees which commanded the river ap
proaches on the south. The river
bank at the northeast corner was de
fended by the guns from the fort, with
a bamboo fence and other devices.
The strip of ground about two hun
dred feet in width between the east
wall of the citadel and the river was
never taken by the Chinese, but as the
men who were detailed to supply the
fort with water were exposed in pass
ing to and fro to the tire of the Chi
nese from the opposite bank, a zigzag
trench from the gate to the water's
edge was dug to protect them. The
Mitrailleuse, not very well supplied
with ammunition, lay like a watchdog
in front. Every device known to de
fensive warfare was tried oy Capt.
Domine. Every wall was topped with
bastions. Pits and trenches were dug
everywhere, either for riflemen or for
safe passage from place to place.
Scarcely a level space remained with
in the walls when relief came, except
the quiet corners where the dead had
been reverently interred, all the
graves having boards properly in
scribed at their heads, on which
wreaths were hung, some black and
withered, others but a little faded.
Five mines were exploded at differ
ent times, each costing the garrison
several lives. The first was on the
13lh of February, when four men were
killed, one of the dead bodies falling
into the trench outside. A corporal and
four men went to seek it afterward,
under fire of the Chinese guns, and
brought it into the fortress on their
backs. On the 22d three mines were
exploded, throwing forty men into the
air, of whom fifteen were killed.
Every time a mine was exploded four
or live hundred Chinese stood ready
to enter, with one thousand more in
reserve at their first parallel, a few
hundred yards away. They were al
ways met and repulsed by the French
soldiers with tbe bayonet. On the
26th and 27th of February, when it
was known that the relieving column
was far on its way from Hanoi, the
black-flags exploded another mine and
made a desperate attempt to enter
with a force of three thousand men.
They were repulsed in the breach and
one hundred killed. Sixty bodies re
mained, infecting the air with a hor
rible stench, when Gen. Briere de
l'lsle arrived, and were burried by his
order. The attack continued during
the battle of Hoamoc, the cannon
ading being heard at intervals by the
general and his staffon the battlefield.
Three mines were ready to be exploded
when the order was given to the be
siegers to retreat. Only one of these
mines was exploded during the night,
the Chinese always seeming to prefer
the early morning for assault. One
was countermined by the besieged and
successfully floated. They were all at
the southwest angle of the citadel,
which soon became a mass of ruins.
The French always knew where they
were and understood fully their peril
ous position, but could not for a mo
ment desert the breach, though they
knew they might at any moment be
hurled into the air.
The intervals between the explo
sions were occupied by constant can
nonading on both sides, with musketry
fire by sharpshooters, if anyone allow
ed himself to be seen. One French
sharpshooter killed twenty Chinamen
and wounded several others. He was
himself wounded in the face by the
last shot fired before the black-flags
retired. Other sharpshooters did
scarcely less efficient service. When
the assaults were made the Chinese
never hesitated for a moment to brave
the danger, but threw themselves im
petuously on the bayonets of the
French. Their estimated loss during
the siege is 1,000. The garrison lost
about 150 men killed and wounded.
Their force was furtlierreduceedto450
men by sickness, aud these had to hold
defensive works fully a mile in length
against an enemy tierce, bloody, un
tiring, and never allowing an interval
for repose. They declared, however,
that they could have held out two
weeks longer, which, if he had known
it, would have allowed Gen. Uriere de
l'lsle time to bring up a llankiug col
umn from the reinforcements just ar
rived from France, aud thus have
spared the lives of many of his brave
soldiers. But the actual condition of
the garrison was not known, and ho
felt that he could not afford to wait.
Besides, it was supposed that in
hastening to the re!ief of the garrison
he was acting under orders from the
French government, which appreciated
the heroic defense of the garrison
and did not wish to have it sacrificed.
The general has his headquarters in
a little room with a mud floor adjacent
to the blockhouse. His staff are in
tents near at hand. From his door ho
can see every reg'ment of Col. Jovian
ninelli's brigade," distributed in a semi
circle at a distance of a mile from the
citadel and two or three miles beyond
the tents of the black-flags, from which
the smoke rises as peacefully as from
a dutchman's pipe. If they had suf
fered heavily they would not be likely
to remain so near. There is evidently
no intention of attacking them at
present. They exploded a powder
magazine yesterday afternoon, which
shows that they are ready to depart on
the road to Laskayif it becomes neces
sary. This morning two Chinese sol
diers were captured, brought to head
quarters and promptly beheaded. No
quarter was asked or given on either
side. At Chu it is said that five hun
dred prisoners were beheaded by order
of Gen. Briere do l'lsle, the Tonquin
ese regiments performing the work till
they were tired, andaosolutely refused
to do it longer. A French soldier who
was in the Langson campaign told me
that some hundreds of Chinese wound
ed, overtaken in their litters by the
French column, were blown up with
dynamite by an order emanating from
the same source. Any one who has
been near the black-bags and realized
their atrocity, who appreciates the
cold-blooded "Oriental ferocity which
inspired the imperial offer of a reward
for French heads, if he does not feel
like justifying, can at least compre
hend the action of the French in un
dertaking similar acts of reprisal.
Because Bismarck gets all his clothes made
in Vienna, an oberving ciap remarks that it
is sometimes iucouven eat, even for great men,
to live in the same town with their tailors.
Saw the Judge.
Nat Mitchell, who lives out on the
Coon Creek road, went into the su
preme court room and, seeing a pleas
ant looking gentleman sitting with
his feet on the table, the visitor asked:
"Are you the supreme jedge o' the
state?"
"Yes, sir."
"Would you be kind enough to give
me a little advice? I don't mean give
it to me, exactly, for I am willin' to
pay for it."
"State your case."
"You've got a suit here, Mayflower
vs. Hall. The people out in my neigh-,
borhood are mighty iuterested in that
suit, an' ef I knowed exactly how it
was goin' to be decided I mout win a
a right sharp pile o' money on it. You
jest tell me how she's goin' an' I'll
slip back an' take ail the bets I ken
git-"
"Of course I know how the suit will
be decided, but it would hardly be
right for mc to tell you in advance."
"Yes, but I'll make it all right. I'll
give you half o' what I win."
"I never accept a contingent fee.
Tell you what I'll do."
"Out with it."
"Give me a hundred dollars and I'll
give you the necessary pointer."
"Say seventy-live?"
"No."
"Ninety."
"I see you don't care to trade.'
"Well, "here's a hundred."
"Now, sir, you go home and bet on
Hall."
The suit was decided in favor of
Mayflower. Several days later, while
the judge was sitting in his room,
Nat Mitchell knocked at the door.
'They told me that the supreme
judge was in here," said he.
"Well, 1 am the man."
"You ain't the man I'm after.
Tut her day a feller that claimed to be
the jedge said he would tell me how a
certain case would go if I would give
him a hundred. I give him the hun
dred, went home, mortgaged my farm
for three thousand dollars, an' bet
the whole amount the way that blamed
fellow said. Now look at me. Ain't
got money enough to get a bite to eat.
If steamboats was sellin' for ten cents
a hundred, I couldn't buy a pilot house.
I want that man. I'd like to wallow
around here awhile with him. He
ain't the jedge then, I reckon."
"No."
"Ah, hah! I reckon that he was
some feller that stepped in."
"I suppose that he was."
"Come in, may be, when everybody
else had gone to dinner."
"Very likely."
"Well, believe I'll poke on round
awhile. If I see him I'll show him
what a pity it is that men ain't honest.
I kain't bear to see a dishonest man,
jedge, and above all, I do think that
our public men should be above sus
picion." As Mitchell went into a restaurant
to see if the proprietor would trust
him for a meal, a pleasant looking
man who had played the "jedge,"
slipped out the back door. Arkansaw
Traveler.
The Reil Rebellion.
The most explicit and complete
statement of the origin of Riel's re
bellion in Canada yet seen is furnished
the Pioneer Press by a correspondent
and thus summarized by that paper:
All the dominion teriitory to the
north of us was once ruled by the
Hudson Bay Company, which temper
ed its iron despotism with exact and
absolute justice. It ruled Indians and
half-breeds severly, but it never broke
faith with them. And they in turn
knew it for their master and obeyed it.
When the Hudson Bay Company sold
out, part of the consideration was in
lands, for which the best have of
course been selected, and which will
equally of course be held until their
value is enhanced. This is the first
grievance of the settler. It is intensi
fied by the exclusive grant made to
the Canadian Pacific railway, and the
corresponding restrictions upon settle
ment. Then the Northwest half-breeds
and employes of the Hudson Bay com
pany began to get anxious about the
lands which were promised them by
the company, by the dominion govern
ment, by the province of Manitoba, by
the Canadian Pacific, and by every
body else who could give a promise.
As frequently related, they took up
claims for the most part along the
streams in the Northwest provinces,
in long, narrow strips running back
from the water's edge. ' It is among
these settlements that the war is now
raging. The Canadian Pacific was
first surveyed and located through the
district of Prince Albert. When many
settlers bad located there on this ac
count, the route was changed to one
some hundred miles farther south,
and here was a new element of dis
content. Finally when the dominion
made its land surveys it disregarded
wholly the old half breed allotments,
laid out the land into the usual sec
tions, and when the half-breeds came
to file and prove up their claims they
found them cut up, and, if desirable,
usually in possession of somebody else.
It is an ugly aud consistent story of
broken faith and unredeemed promises
since the Hudson Bay Company relin
quished its control. And the men,
driven to resistance by such crimi
nal disregard of their rights, are the
men who, under Riel, are now waging
a half savage warfare that may grow
into no end of trouble.
A Gratified Astronomer.
A great, a terrific noise came waft
ing over Hickenloopei-'3 back fence.
Mrs. Hickenlooper ran to the window
and looked out. She saw her husband
gazing intently over into the yard of
their next door neighbor, while a live
ly expression of satisfaction played
over his features. The noise continu
ed, punctuated with yells of a boy, to
gether with what seemed to be the
emphatic swish of a skate-strap, Mrs.
Hickenlooper threw up the window.
'-What is it?" she called. "What
are vou doing, Horace?"
Mr. Hickenlooper motioned for
silence with a backward sweep of the
hand.
"Hush!" he whispered hoarsely;
"I'm watching the clips of the son."
Rockland Courier-Gazette.
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