,
, , i 1 "
!
SUXDEEED FRIENDS.
Otai was it I, or was it you
That broke the subtle chain that ran
Between us two, between us two?
Oh! was it I, or was it you?
Not very strong the chain at best,
Not quite complete from span to span:
I never thought 'twould stand tho test
Of settled commonplace, at best.
But oh! how sweet, how sweet you were
When things were at their first and best,
And we were friends without demur,
Shut out from all the sound and stir.
The little, pretty, wordly race!
Why couldn't we have stood the test
The little tost of commonplace
And kept the glory and the grace
Of that sweet time when first we met?
Oh! was it I, or was it you
That dropped the golden links and let
The little rift, and doubt, and fret
Creep in and break that subtle chain?
Oh! was it I, or was it you?
Still ever yet and yet again
Old parted friends will ask with pain.
The Independent.
RED'S EXPERIENCE.
. Ned had not a great deal of cash
when he was married, so he and his
wife decided to board for six months.
Eva had been a useful girl at home,
that always helped mother, and when
she became mistress of one room with
"the use of the parlor for callers," she
gladly did all there was to do, even to
carrying the wood for their fire "so
that dear old Ned wouldn't have to
bother; he just sat down and toasted
his toes by the fire without ever a
thought of who kept it going.
When the young people had saved a
little money for 'the necessary furni
ture and went to housekeeping, Eva
began by slipping about very carefully
in the morning till breakfast was near
ly ready, "so the dear boy couldrest,"
and he snoozed away the morn
ing hour, regardless of the heavy
work that he should have been doing
to save the girl that, such a little
while ago, he had promised to "love,
honor and cherish." But Ned loved
his wife.andhis home, and after a while,
when a little baby girl came to stay at
their house, Ned's pride and pleasure
knew no bounds.
Involuntarily he would quicken his
steps as he neared the home and
thought of the dainty little darling in
ruffles and embroidery, that had al
ready learned to coo and jump for joy
at his appearance. Ned was duly
proud of her accomplishments, but
about this time he began to have mis
givings least Eva should be growing a
little careless of appearances, for he
did dread above all things else the
thought of her ever becoming one of the
untidy, slovenly appearing women into'
wh;eh he had seen so many pretty
girls deteriorate. One thing was cer
tain baby did not look as nice as she
used to, and Eva seemed to be losing
some of her spirit. He must speak to
her about it.
That night he found the opportunity
he was waiting for when he came home
and found baby at the front door with
a smudgy face and dirty dress. He
took her in his arms and carried her
back to the kitchen, where Eva was
getting supper.
How surprised she was to see the
'pretty little white dress that she had
put on a few minutes before, when she
set her in the hall to peep through the
blinds and watch for papa, while she
made the tea and cut the bread for
supper. But baby had interviewed
the hat rack in the meantime, and
found one of the muddy rubbers that
Ned had thrown on the lower part of
it late last night when he came in. It
wasn't real easy to find fault, but he
managed to tell her how disappointed
he had been lately to notice that baby
was hardly ever as clean aud nice
now when he came home as she used
to be, and if there was anything he
did like to see it was a sweet, clean
baby. Eva explained that lately she
had been creeping, which made an aw
ful difference, which Ned thought a
very flimsy excuse, for the floors did
not look dirty, and baby never went
out of doors; how could that make her
clothes dirty?
One week after this he had another
one that was very different. He was
on his way home from business, when
a friend asked him to ride. He got in
and rode but a block or two when the
horse ran away, spraining Ned's ankle
so severely that he had to be carried
home by friends who ran to his assist
ance when he was thrown out. They
got him to bed before the doctor got
there, and when he came he advised
him to stay where he was for a week.
At the end of this probation he was
able to sit in an easy chair, with his
foot resting on another, and here he
stayed for two weeks more. But the
time was not wasted that Ned was thus
obliged to spend in doors. Itgavehim
the first glimpse he had ever had of
his home as it was when off dress pa
rade. He had never seen Eva work much,
because she had always had a desire
to make his home quiet and restful
for him while he was in it, so no mat
ter how hard she had worked beforehe
came, or how she should have to hur
ry when he was gone, she never did
any work that she could possibly help
when he was at home. A little bit of
fancy work busied her fingers while she
sat and talked with him, but nothing
more matter-of-fact was ever permit
ted in sight. And Ned never realized
how things got done. If they were not
done he noticed the lack, but when
everything ran smoothly, that was
only as it should be, and he hardly
gave it a thought. But now he saw
things as they were. He realised that
every fire that cooked his meals nad
to be made by his Eva's own hands;,
that the same hands must carry in the
wood and carry the ashes out, bring
the water from the cistern and. take
the slops to the inconvenient alley
drain, and he was heartily ashamed
of himself. One day as he saw her go
ing about these disagreeable duties for
perhaps the thousandth time, he said:
"Eva, why didn't you tell me to do
that long ago, instead of doing it your
self all this time?"
"0, I could manage it very well be
fore baby came, and after that, when
I had so much more to do, although I
often wished I had some one to do
these things forme, Ihated to askyou,
and so kept on doing them myself."
"Well, you won't keep on after I can
stand on my feet."
Nor was that all that Ned learned
in that three weeks. He found out j
why the baby did not always look as !
clean and sweet as she had while a
tiny tiling in long dresses. And when
he had seen Eva take off every
stitch of clothes the baby had for the
third time in one day and put them
in the dir-ty clothes bag, with the j
knowledge that it was her own hands
that would have them all to iron next
week, he protested: "Now, Eva, I
wouldn't dress that baby clean again
to-day if every woman in town saw her
as dirty as a pig. What's tho use of
killing yourself."
"But don't you know, Ned, how
much you always thought of sweet,
clean babies?"
"Yes; and I know what a pi-ecious
fool I've always been about the very j
things a sensible man ought to be
ashamed of himself, not to know with
out teaching. I only wish ninety-nine ;
of every hundred husbands had to I
stay in the house three weeks just as
I have done, and they'd be 'taught.' '
They'd get over thinking their wives
had such a fine time, and so much
leisure fordoingeverythingthey chance
to find undone and grumble about, or
I'm a fool for certain." Burlington
Hawkeye.
A Disgraceful Scene in the Geor
gia Legislature.
Special Dispatch to the St. Louis Globe
Democrat. Atlanta, Ga. A lively sensation
was created in the House of Represen- :
tatives when ;. joint resolution on
General Grant's death was received
from the Senate'. The Senate resolu
tion was brief, simply stating that the
General Assembly heard with regret
of the death of the great man, and
would adjourn out of respect to his
memory.
Mr. Lamar offered a substitute, I
speaking of his death as aNational ca
lamity, and moving an immediate ad- J
journment.
Mr. Harrison, of Quitman County,
in an excited manner, moved to amend
by striking out the part referring to
the General's illustrious service.
Mr. Lamar, who is a cousin of Secre
tary Lamar, and was a gallant Con- ''
federate soldier, said that he believed 1
his resolution was expressive alike of I
tho feelings of the House and the p'eo
pie of Georgia.
Mr. Jake Dart, of Glynn, one of the
leaders of the House and an eloquent
orator in an excited and very emphatic
manner, walked from his seat down I
the aisle toward the Speaker's stand, i
and said: "Who could ask a smaller
tribute than this? Thank God I have
divested myself of prejudice. I have
felt his strong arm, but I remember
the terms he gave us and they were
terms that no conqueror but a mag- j
nanimous one would have given. Iam :
as true in my fidelity to the State of
Georgia as any member on this floor,
bat I do say, in God's name, as peo
pie and patriots, as American citizens,
show respect to the office he held if j
not to his memory as a man."
Great excitement and applause fol-
lowed this.
Mr Harrison arose, his long red j
whiskers and red hair redder than ev
er, his face at red heat, and his eyes
flashing fire. He said: "I regret ex- j
ceedingly this most unseemly scene,
bat when I am asked to compliment
the memory of any man, alive or
dead, upon whose service rest- j
ed the last hopes of my native land,
then may you charge me with what
ever you please. It shall not have my j
support. It shall not be said that I
complimented the services of a man j
who deprived Georgia of her rights as i
she believed them. Uuseemly is this
quarrel. Anxious to prevent it, have
I been earnestly asking the originator of
it to take a different step. Never here
nor elsewhere will I, under any circum
stances, attempt to say on any occa- j
sion that Georgia was wrong that her !
sons were traitors and compliment j
the author of her misery. I will not
doit." Great excitement and hisses.
Other members spoke in favor of the
resolution and severely attacked Har- j
rison.
Dr. Felton arose in his seat and de
tivered a handsome tribute to Grant,
and censured the effort to defeat the
resolution. He closed by saying that
if General Grant had never performed
another duty or another act except
his fidelity to Southern leaders, "I ,
would to-day with all my heart, a ,
Southern man that I am, indorse this
resolution honoring his memory."
Harrison here said that, as it was
the desire of the House to pass the
resolution, he would withdraw his ob- j
jection.
The resolution went through with
applause, and the House adjourned.
THRILLING NARRATIVE.
A Wonderful Escape from the San Diego
Wade, of Portage, Summit
County, recently a convict in a Mexi
can prison, condemned to labor in a
mine half a mile beneath the surface
of the earth, recently told the story of
his sufferings to a representative of
the Cleveland Plain Dealer. "I am 31
years old," he said, "and I feel as if I
were twice that age. In 1878 I ob
tained employment on the Mexican
Central Railway in the capacity of
passenger conductor, and ran between
Chihuahua and the City of Mexico.
My trouble began on the 12th day of
February, 1884. My train ran at
the average rate of thirty-eight
miles an hour and when I left Chi
huahua that morning at 8 o'clock
I told my engineer, McFarland, to
slack up ten or fifteen miles an hour
in passing Sierra Blanco, a quarry
twenty miles out, where about 1,000
Mexicans are employed by the govern
ment getting out stone. Every pay
day these laborers would get drunk
and hang around the track, and as
this was iay day I warned my engi
neer to slow up around the Sierra
Blanco curve lest he might hurt some
body. Well, it happened just that
way. McFarland saw a fellow lying
right across the track and whistled for
him several times. The man moved,
and my engineer thought he'd got off.
He didn't however, and was struck.
Of course he was dead, and when
we reached Domingo we were both
arrested, McFarland and I. After
a delay of three mont hs we were taken
to the City of Mexico and tried before
the court of assizes, presided over by
the Governor of Senora. I had two
Mexican attorneys and paid them
811,000 to get nie out, but the preju
dice against Americans was very
strong, and I was sentenced to two
years' imprisonment and to pay a fine
of $o00. McFarland's sentence was
just twice as hard, four years and
$1,000.
"But your term of service has not
elapsed yet?" suggested the reporter.
"No," dryly remarked Mr. Wade,
"not yet. That is in the regular fash
ion." "When I got my sentence," he re
sumed, "I appealed to the American
Minister, but noticing was done forme
until I managed to get a letter to the
St. Louis Globe-Democrat, and then
intervention was of no avail. I was
taken to the Tortez Penitentiary, and
employed as understeward. I madean
impression of the key to the stockade,
but just as I attempted to escape I
was discovered and placed in irons.
Then I was sent to the San Diego
mines, 2,285 feet underground. My
work compelled me to kneel all the
time striking a drill. A Mexican in
the mine insulted me, and I knocked
him down. For this I was sentenced
to receive thirty-nine lashes on my
bare back, but the sentence was sus
pended until my term of confinement
should expire. I met some men down
there who had not seen daylight in
nine years. After working in the mines
three months the hydraulic pumps in
use there gave out, and I told the cap
itano of the gurd that I was a me
chanic and could repair the machinery.
The engineer sent for me and 1 stayed
up two days fixing the pumps. One
of the men in charge belongs to a cer
tain secret society to which I belong,
and he told me that if I could get up
on the cage he would hoist me. Ac
cording to agreement I returned to
work, and on the third day
I made a break for Hberty.
Three or four times I started, but each
time my courage failed and my heart
was in my mouth. At last I took my
lamp off my hat and dashed it to the
ground. That meant certain death
to me if I was caught and I ran to the
cage and gave the signal to hoist. Im
mediately the cage began to move,
but I had not been lifted five feet when
the three guards fired their double
barreled carbines as me. None oi
them hit me, however, and 1 was drawn
up safely. Near the mouth of the
mine I found a burro tied, and with
out asking many questions I mounted
and made tracks for the American
line. That day I rode seventy miles."
Mr. Wade halted a moment to mop
big drops of perspiration from his
forehead. When he had cooled off a
bit he said: "It's no wonder I get
excited in telling my experience. It's
only six weeks ago that I escaped, and
I have never felt safe until I struck
American soil. I made my escape on
the 28th of May, and from that day
I knew no rest for weeks. I traded
my burro for a mustang, but one night
the mustang got away from me and I
had to foot it . Footsore and famished
I made my way through the prairies,
getting a ride and a square meal here
and there. The first American town
I struck was Tombstone, A. T. There
I was all right."
Keeping Up With the Fashion.
Charles Dudley Warner in Harper's.
It is, of course, necessary to wear
our hair and mount our scarf-pins and
tie our cravats and set up our cut
throat collars and to walk in the for
eign mode. But it is ridiculous to be
so slow in our imitation. Fashion
ought to have more alert scouts out
in Europe and quicker methods of
diffusing the new styles here. We are
always behind time. Now, before we
get universally and well settled in the
Bond street walk, tho English youth
will be walking in an entirely different
manner and we shall be as much out
of fashion as a last year's almanac.
How do we know now that it is the
.correct thing for a youngmanto stand
with a thumb in each trousers' pocket?
It may be as out of date as that old
and independent American way of
wearing the thumbs in the armholes
of the vest. Very likely when we are
adepts in the high-shouldered, crooked
elbow, rushing gait, the Pall Mall
clerks may be turning out their toes
and sauntering along with a sort of
bowie-knife nonchalance, caught from
Texas ranch life. We need decorative
young men's societies to keep us up tt
the mark.
! What Men Fall in Love With.
Men fall in loye, they say, with beau
ty, with goodness, with gentleness, with
intellectual qualities, with a sweet
voice, with a smile, with an agreeable
manner, with a lovable disposition,
with many ascertainable and measur
able things, and yet we find them con
tinually falling in love with women
who are not beautiful, nor good, nor
wise, nor gentle, nor possessing any
ascertainable or measurable thing.
You'll find one hundred reasons given
for fallingin loye, or being in love, and
rarely the right reason which is com
monly simply because a man cannot
help ft. He is in love because a mys
terious force in nature has touched
him. The woman may beunbeautiful,
heartless, selfish, coarse, frivolous,
empty, but it the magic of nature
something of the magic, I suspect, that
Puck used on the eyes of Titania
touches him he sees not one of these
things in their true aspect. Yes, the
Titanias that have fallen in love with
men crowned with donkey heads, and
that have fallen in love with serpents,
thinking them doves, are many and
all because a diabolism or a mystic
fury in nature that delights in bring
ing incongruous elements together for
the sake of a dance of delirium. Ex.
A Vigorous OTd! Age.
The friends of Rev. Br:. James Free
man Clarke; as well ae others, will
read the following, written by him, with
interest.
I cheerfully comply with your request
to give you a brief account of my habits
of living. I find myself at the age of
seventy-five still able to do a good
deal of work, and I attribute it,
under Providence, to the following
causes.
1. I am not of an anxious temper
ament; I do not worry. I am not to
any great extent annoyed by disap
pointments or failure; and it has never
disturbed me when I have been cen
sured, so long as I believed I was doing
right.
2. I have a great faculty for sleep
ing. Although ableto keep awake when
necessary without much injury, I
can always fall asleep any moment
when sleep seems desirable. These frag
ments of rest are, no doubt, or great ser
vice to me.
3. I have always,, from childhood,
been fond of outdoor exercise. I be
gan to ride on horseback when only
about eight years old, and when a lad
I joined with delight in all out-of-door
sports skating, swimming, row
ing and inlaying ball, and also indoor
athletic exercises, such as fencing, box
ing and gymnastics.. But ali those be
longed to an early period of my life.
4. I have few fixed habits, and am
fond of change. When I have done
anything in one way for a few times I
enjoy it differently. But if this tend
ency has its advantages, it, on the
other hand, prevents me from receiv
ing the benefit which comes from es
tablished methods of Work.
5. Although when young I smoked,
I have not used tobacco since I was
26. In half a century I have only
smoked two cigars, and those only be
cause I happened to be where the air
was malarious.
6. Finally, I love work, and espec
ially brain work. My professional du
ties as a clergyman have been to me a
source of great happiness. I have also
written several books and many arti
cles for the press, and I believe that
this kind of work has been beneficial
to my health.
TUSKER'S WOOING.
Burned on a Silver Tray.
The congregation of the St. John
Street Methodist church were treated
a few days ago to a novel sight,
witnessing the burning of a mortgage
bond of $6,000, the last item of debt
upon their church. The services open- j
ed with a full anthem, followed by re- j
sponsive reading. "Hove Thy Church, '
0 God," was sung with much feeling
by the choir. The minister delivered j
a short prayer, after which another j
hymn was sung previous to the preach- j
ing of the sermon by the pastor, the
Bev. A. H. Wyatt.
After an eloquent dircourse the pas
tor stepped down from the chancel
and t ook from within the folds of his
vest a folded piece of manuscript. '
"This," said he, "is amortgage. Until j
now I've never seen one. Have you
any idea what the holders of this j
could do! They could turn you out of
your church, but, thank Heaven, they j
can't do it now, tor it is paid."
Calmly and deliberately Minister
Wyatt tore the paper into slips, and
crumpling it up into a ball placed it on
a tray. Lighting a small lamp he
ignited his paper ball, and while the i
whole congregation sang the doxology
the mortgage bond of $6,000 was I
burned into ashes. When the services
ended the trustees assembled and held
a second cremation. They, too, have
had personal interest in the debt, in
asmuch as the names wee all signed
to the note. Upon the same tray
which had held the ashes of the mort
gage bond the note was burned, and so
ended the last traces of a debt once
threatening the St. John Street Meth- I
odistchurch. During the service many i
of the older members of the church
were moved to tears by the eloquent ;
and pathetic words which fell from the j
speaker's lips. The ashes are now en
closed in a sealed envelope, but will j
soon be placed in a silver urn which, I
with the lamp, will be enclosed in a ,
glass case and hung in the parlor of the
church. New Haven News. j
Where tlie Prince Consort Died.
London Letter in Charleston News.
A long time ago I went over the .
house and came to a room which had
been religiously closed for years. It i
was opened by special order and there
issued from it a certain hallowed odor
which exhales on opening along-closed
sanctuary. The blinds were drawn
and semi-darkness prevailed. We
drew near a table and my guide ex- j
plained that this was the late Prince
Consort's room and everything was
to-day just as he left it when he died, j
The dust was nearly an inch thick on 1
his writing desk; a half-used quill was i
lying crosswise where it had fallen from j
his hand or its rack; there were sever- I
al articles about, a paper-weight,
a book, and to the right, near the
abandoned quill, a little carved
frame, and in this frame a por- j
trait. I think I can see it now the
youthful Victoria painted by Winter- j
halter. Her Majesty has a sweet, fair ;
face and rosebud mouth and she wears
an apple-green gown, the lint just glim
ering through the folds of laces. This
picture was always found by the Prince
Consort's side, and when this sanctum
was vacated forever no one dared to
touch it or even the smallest object in
the room. By the queen's orders it
stands to-day as it stood then. The
dust is a little thicker on tapestry,
chair and table, the quill still lies in
its old place and the little royal pic- j
ture smiles as sweetly as of yore from
its half-dimmed frame. I need not 1
say that this chamber is never opened j
on a revel night, but I could not help
thinking of it as we walked Once more '
through other lovely but le3S sacred j
apartments.
Although: Farmer Tucker had long
dreamed of a visit to Chautauqua,
when he found himself at that Mecca
of devout excursionists, early last Au
gust, the brawny man was tempted to
doubt his own identity. The holiday
surroundings were wholly unlike any
thing to which he was accustomed in
his prosy New England home; the rich
crowded program offered was in strik
ing contrast to the dull monotony of
farm life. When this son of toil first
entered the auditorium, and saw that
amphitheater crowded with thousands
of people listening breathlessly to the
full, sweet tone of the grand organ, his
crampedJ, selfish heart was strongly
touched and expanded. For an in
stant the wish crept in that he had
asked Jane if she would like to come,
too. But there was not muchtimefor
his own thoughts, for as the music
ceased a white-haired speaker arose
and was introduced to the audience as
John B.Gough.
At this announcement Samuel Tuck
er's satisfaction was to great to be
kept to himself, and he said, half
aloud, to his next neighbor: "Well
now, I am beat to think I'm going to
hear the man I've wanted to hear for
more'n 20 years." The young lady
gave an amused little laugh, but it fell
unheeded upon the unsophisticated
speaker whose attention was already
caught by the orator.
Mr. Gough commenced his brief lec
ture with one of his inimitable de
scriptions. The story was of a man
who applied for a divorce and was ad
vised by his eminent lawyer to try the
effect of making love to his wife as he
liad done before marrying her, instead
of resorting to the measure he had
proposed. It included also an account
of a late visit when the happy husband
withdrew his application; and, fairly
dancing with glee, assured the lawyer
that his experiment had worked like a
charm, that "Sally had become an
amiable and affectionate wife as a man
could ask to have. "
Mr. Gough's representation of the
scene' drew forth long applause, but
Samuel Tucker's interest was of too
serious a nature to permit his joining
in the laughter . As if half unconscious,
for a moment, of tho multitude about
him, he said in an undertone: "I'd
be willing to take my oath that
wouldn't work with Jane. All I have
to say is,that man's wife was different
from mine; I'd as soon think of feed
ing serrup to a mummy as to begin
sparking again with her."
It would seem that this course of
reasoning did not wholly dismiss from
the farmer's mind a train of thoughts
and possibilities suggested by the
lecturer's story. In every treat of the
following days at sacred service or
popular lecture, at the museum or by
the model of the Holy land, while
listening to concert or gazing with
throngs upon the illuminated fleet, the
far away husband was relentlessly fol
lowed by a vision of hard worked
Jane, looking upon him with reproach
ful eyes. At length he quieted his con
science with the determination to
prove that his estimate of his wife was
correct. "When I go home," he said
to himself, "I'll just show the woman
some little attentions, and I'll see they
won't have any more effect on her
than they would on-the old bay mare.
Jane's bound to be sullen and obstin
ate, and I suppose I may as well make
up my mind to it."
On reaching home the resolution
wasuot easily carried out. When Mr.
Tucker planned some gallantry to ward
his wife the very thought made him
feel so unnatural and foolish that post
ponement resulted, but the Sabbath
offered an opportunity so convenient
that he improved it.
The farm was nearly a mile from
church, yet Samuel Tucker had for
years been in the habit of driving back
alone, leaving his wife to attend Sun
day school and then walk home as
best she could through mud or dust.
Great was Mrs. Tucker's astonishment,
therefore, on the Sabbath after his re
turn, to find him waiting for her at the
close of the Bibte service. The faintest
suspicion that ne had driven back to
the church for her did not cross the
good woman's mind; she supposed he
had business with some of the brethren,
and was hesitating whether to walk on
as usual or to suggest waiting for him,
when the farmer called out: "It's jest
as cheap to ride as to walk." Silently
the wife to her seat in the buggy, and
silently they drove home, much to the
husband's satisfaction,for it seemed to
him a proof of the woman's dull, un
appreciative nature. "She didn't act
pleased, but was only dazed like, as I
knew she would be," he muttered, as
he wentabout his mid-day "chores."
At the same time Mr. Tucker was
conscious ot having performed a most
praiseworthy act, and felt so comfort
able that he resolved to repeat the ex
periment. So on the following Sab
bath Jane again found her husband in
waiting, and as she mounted the high
buggy ventured to utter a half audible
"thank you," and to ask Samuel if he
had been waiting long. To which Mr.
Tucker replied that he had just reach
ed the church, and didn't know but he
might find she had started on foot.
This reply seemed to Jane a positive
assurance that her husband had really
returned for the sole purpose of taking
her home; and her chilled heart glowed
with a warmth unknown for years.
She longed to tell her husband how
much she appreciated his trouble, but
imagined it would sound "so foolish"
that she kept her pleasure to herself.
The third Sabbath was rainy, and
as she washed the breakfast dishes
Mrs. Tucker kept thinking, "I wonder
if Samuel means to come for me this
noon; it would be such a help in the
rain; I'm half a mind to ask him!"
This resolution was soon stifled, with
the reasoning which had silenced many
similar resolves in the past ten years.
"No, I won't ask no favors; if he don't
think enough of me to come, why he
needn't." Although proudly unwilling
to seek :any attentions Jane longed for
some demonstration of her husband's
love and care; she had walked home
in the rain too often to greatly dread
such exposure; but a week before the
wife had ; tasted the joy of being con
sidered, and longed for some new and
further proof of her companion's af
fection. Mrs. Tucker's heart leaped for joy,
when at noon she saw the old mare's
head from the- lecture-room window.
Indeed her hungering heart became
quite unmanageable, and entering the
carriage door, melted Jane sobbed out;
"I'm sure its very good of you, Sam
uel, to come back for me this rainy
day," and then the tears flowed so fast
that further words were impossible.
Completely taken by surprise, Mr.
Tucker exclaimed: "I declare I hadn't
no idea you'd care so much about it!"
"I wouldn't mind the walk," re
sponded the wife, "but Samuel I'm
so happy to have you care enough
about me to come!"
The strong man was brushing away
a tear from his own cheek now; his
tenderer better nature was mastering
the hard, selfish spirit which had long
possessed him, and with coughing and
choking he said: "Jane, I see I've made
an awful botch, of our married life; if
you're a mind to forgive me, I'll see if
I can't treat you from day to day as
woman ought to be treated."
This confession was all too much for
the weeping wife and she answered,
quickly:
"You're not a bit more to blame
than I am; I've been proud and ob
stinate; but I tell you what it is, we'll
begin all over again."
The ice was now thoroughly broken,
and that afternoon Farmer Tucker
and his wife had a long talk over the
past and future. And in the evening
when they were about to start for the
prayer-meeting to be held in the neigh
boring school house, the renewed hus
band stooped and kissed his wife, say
ing: "Jane, I've been a thinking that
married life ain'; so different from
farming or any other occupation. Now
I ain t such a tool as to tttmk a held
will keep a-yielding if I only enrich it
once and plant it once; I have to go
over the same ground every season;
and here I suppose you was a-going
to always do as you did when we were
a courting, without my doing my part
at all."
"If I hadn't changed any, maybe
you would always have been as ten
der as you used to be," pleaded the
wife.
"Perhaps so and perhaps not; but I
don't mean to leave you to try no such
plan. I tell you what it is, Jane, I
feel as if we hadn't never been really
married till to-day. It most seems
as if we ought to take a wedding tow
er." "I'm afraid we'll have to wait until
next summer for that," was the smil
ing response.
"I suppose we shall, but we'll take it
then certain; and I'll tell you where
we'll go, wife that's to Chautauquy!"
The Congregationalism.
Yankee Psalm Singing.
Boston Globe.
Parochial singing has turned all
colors in New England since the round
heads jumped ashore. One attends an
"Olde Folkes' Concerto," or "Polly
Bassett's Singing Skew," and supposes
he now knows how they did it. But
those samplers give us only one color
out of the many. One might as well
think we nad seen all the wondrous
bonnets of the changing year from see
ing one. The story of the musics is an
interesting one.
Those were ferocious singers, the
Puritans, on both sides of the pond.
As the mill-girl said, she "couldn't
dance handsome, but she could dance
strong," so it was with their psalming.
German churches had been tuneful
ever since Luther, a century before.
Much of the strength of his re
form movements hinged on popular
singing. He finished up the old love
ditties and sung psalms to them. But
the amorous songs of 1500 were so
gruesome that it was no scandal to
use them in worship. "Old Hundred"
was one of them. The English pews
did not sing till a short time before the
settlement of this country. The
stock of "tennes" our fathers brought
over was small and cheap. Here is
the way they droned it: Do, do, do,
re do, si do, re. Do, do, do, re do, do
si, do. This was the primary color,
rich but not gaudy.
For words they had psalms, limping;
in tender-footed long meter. They
sang them at their devotions. They
wailed them to the plow horse. And:
when they went forth to "warre,"
they stood in line and warbled lugub
riously together, which scared the na--tives
worse than, powder.
He Reformed.
Council Bluffs Nonpareil: There is
a young man in. this city, a good-looking
young fellow who has a sweetheart
out in the country a few miles, and he
spends two evenings every week in her
society. A few nights ago he staid to
the usual hour, and as he passed out
to the front door he discovered that
it was cloudy and dark. He did-not
relish the idea of driving alone through,
the gloomy night, and hinted about a
good deal to get an invitation to re
main, but it was not forthcoming.
But the young man was equal to the
emergency. Going down the steps he
artfully contrived to slip and fall gent
ly to the ground. Thereupon he
set up a tremendous groaning. The
ruse worked admirably. The girl
screamed, the men folks jumped out of
bed, and carried the young man ten
derly into the house. His horse was
put up and he was assisted to undress,
and deposited in the spare chamber..
He had hardly begun to chuckle over
the success of the stratagem when the
girl's mother put in an appearance
armed with a mustard plaster a foot
square and ten horse drawing power.
This she immediately proceeded to clap
on the small of the young man's back,
where he had incautiously located the
damage to his frame. For two mortal
hours that woman sat by the bed, and
was not satisfied till she beheld with
her own eyes a hlister and inch deep.
The young mania now a reformed har.