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About The Eugene City guard. (Eugene City, Or.) 1870-1899 | View Entire Issue (July 24, 1880)
7WT OLD TATR BTORT. A mother kltfwl he' by, HupklnK It to rett. itDily clmped within her arms, line" led In tar breaaL The old ir iiory, Hal round In glory Wherever life li lound; For ob! U'e love. Ife lore, they aay, lot mke the world go round. r he flr-foi hoy and maiden Pamwd through the yellow wheel; And their handiwere olaiHd logether, And the flower grew at Ibelr (eet. The old fulratory, Set round In glory Wherever life ! found; For oh I li'e love, It'e love, tbey eay, That makes the world go round. ad old man and a wrinkled wife, Amid the fuir iprlnic weather; We've inured our tnrrowi and our Joyi God grant we die together," The old fair ilory, set round in glory Wherever lire la found; Fnr ob! It'e love, It'i love, tbey iay, That makci the world go round- CLEA3 WASHED. "Mamma, listenl I Leard a groan!" and little Holon Hawthorne sprang from her low seat by tho warm fireside, the rich glow deepened on her fair oheek.and i gudden excitement leaped into the dark Nonsense,' doar," answered the mother, after a moment's silenco. It was vour imagination. Mv little girl is fanciful to-night," and she bent to stroke back the thickly clustered curls from the low white brow, as she impressed a fond, loving kiss upon it. It was a pretty picture upon which the fire-light danced and flickered the warm, lnxrious room, with the tall, elegant woman in its midst, and the little, daintily-dressed child by her sido. Without the wind swept by, hurling great chunks of snow on its wings, and dashing through the bare, leafless branches of the trees. The child shuddered as she listened to its groan. "I am quite sure I heard it, mamma. Suppose any one were out at such a night. It would be dreadful. Let me open the door a moment just a mo ment." And, without waiting for the refusal trembling on her mother's lips, she darted forward and threw open the great outside door. In another instant the bell sent a sharp peal through the house, for, on the very threshold lay a prostrate body, already half buried in the snow. Five minutes later and the lad had been carried to a sofa and rostoratives and stimulants passed down his throat. "Will he live, mamma?" Do you think he will live?" But it answer to her question, the lids slowly lifted themselves, and the great black' eye rested wonderingly ou the child's face, bending so anxiously over him. Had the death he thought , so near in deed overtaken him.and was this heaven he had reached? He feared to awaken from his dream, and find himself again homeless and starving and cold. With a long-drawn sigh he closed his eyes, only to find the fucination of the present overcome him, and impel him to again gaze upon the marvelous surround ings. But this wonder only jdeepenod when the reality was brought home to him when ho discovered that it was life, not death, and earth, not heaven, and that ho was not to be drivon out again into the cold and bitter night. Through its long, silent hours ho lay motionless in this warm resting-place, picturing, in the darkness, the child's face, until it became stereotyped, both on heart and brain. The next day he told his story. Ho was a poor lad. orphaned and friendless. "They discharged me from my last place," he said, "because I carried a book about with me, and the boss said it would teach me to dream instead of work. I was only trying to learn something in my idle niinutes, though I couldn't find much time, and I didn't take my em ployer's. However, ho was a hard man to deal with, nud I had to go. I started West. The little money I had gavo out. The storm overtook me. I struggled on as best I could, until I grew fuint and sick. Somewhere in tho distance I saw a light. I struggled to ward it. You know the rest. Now I am strong and well again, the storm is over, and I can only thank you in a few words for your generous kindness, and go my way." "Papa will bo at home this afternoon," answered the child. He is the owner of all tho mills here. If you would like, I will ask him to give you a place; and there is school at night for the hands, wheroyou can study, too." "If I would like! It was all he said, but little Helen Hawthorne needed no other words. She knew that a great lump in his throat had choked his further utterance, and that he had turned away ashamed, to hide the t.ws. The next week saw her promise ful filled, and Alex Vernon stood once more man among men. He found a place in the night school, too. Nor did his young patroness forget him. In some uy aha discovered the books he needod, and lent them to him, until he gTew to associate her with every good thing of his'new life. One morning she sent for him. "I am going to Europe with mamma, Alex," Hhe said, "to be gone a great many years. When I come back I hope to find you a man perhaps papa's over er. I wanted to tell you that if you wished my books from tho library I ould leave this key with you, and you njfiht come up and get them." The sun was streaming full on her face ad the gold of her hair, as she spoke, hut to the boy, listening, a dark mist seemed to roll between them. She was going away for years she who had saved him from death, or worse than death. The next minute sho felt a little hurt, , without a single word of thanks, he abruptly took the key and hastened from her presence. She could not know that he went ont throw himself, face downward, on the pound, and sob out like a very child in hi heart' bitterness. Seven long years passed swiftly by, and Alex Vernon bad reached his twenty fifth, winter. Helen Hawthorne' last ords had been to him a prophesy, for he was now on her homeward way, and attained the position of head overseer the works. "My little girl made the best selection, ter all," Mr. Hawthorn would often say, on receiving congratulations on the eiucioucy 01 ins young aid. Occasionally he would read him scrap or kind message from his daughter' itinera, out Aiex received mora all in nenoe. He had lost the little golden haired child forever. She would return a woman, grown cold. hauBhrv1' and proud, perhaps, refusing to cast even a smile across the vast social gulf yawning between them. One morning he had been absent a lew days on business he returned to find a diflioult piece of machinery about to be adjusted in one of the mills which required his superintendence. Direct ing the men, he saw that not only his eye but his hand could do better work than the others, and so. seizins a work man's blouso hanging near, he slinned it on, and in another moment had his shoulder to the wheel. A half-hour later, soiled and bo grimmed, he heard the rustle of a silkon dress, and the silvery ripple of a woman's langn. lie glanced un quickly. A gay party were passing through the works, with one among thorn seeming a princess sur rounded by her followers. The gold flecked her hair, and the dark lashes swept the cheek of purest ivory. Time had but mode her more beautiful. She glanced idly, indifferently, among tuo nuie group 01 men, 01 which he formed one. "I see no one hero I recognize." she said in the old, sweet, soft voice, and passed on. Sho had come home, then, during his absence. He had seen her. Tho soven years' waiting was over. What had they Drought; The muchinery slipped into its place, but Alex Vernon, with a 6trauge palor upon his face, went out silently from tho mills. Not, as onco before, ta find ro licf in tears. He was a man now. He only knew that something was bursting within him a bitter disappointment, to which he could give no name, but could only bring out into the air and sunshine, lest it stifle him. Far out into the open country he wajked with great strides, knowing neither fatigue nor consciousness that it was unnatural that he should not tire. Suddenly, on the road behind him, camo a horse's quick hoofs. He stepped aside for it to pass, but tho rider drew rein at his side. "It is Alex," said a sweet voice, closo in his ear; "I know that I am not mis taken." And, as in a dream, he saw hold out to him a tiny gauntlotted hand. He looked at his own. Not even had ho washed away tho traces of his recent toil. He would soil by his touch even her glove, although the fair whiteness of her skin was thereby protected. She saw the hesitation, and drew back. "Am I wrong?" she questioned in a little hurt surprise. "I thought you would be glad to see me." "Pardon me!" he answered; "my hands are stained." "Oh!" sho said. Then, after a moment's pause, she said: "When yon have washed them come and see me." And, cutting hor horse with her silver handled whip, she dashed past him out of sight. The next evening ho was invited to dine at her father's tablo. Mr. Haw thorne would accept no excuse. "It is in our country an honor to bo a self-made man. I have no guest of whom I shall be more proud." But when ho entered tho elegantly appointed drawing-rooms, Miss Haw thorne gave him simply a courteous bow of recognition, and made no effort to ap proach him. Cne or twice during the meal ho fouud her eyes fastened on his face, as he was drawn on to Bpeak on this or that topic, as it was presented, while one and another mingled in tho discussion, de ferring in his opinions as to those of a man who understood himself. The ice once broken, he met her ofton, but never once hod their hands touched. He was admitted oven into her circle now. Ho went only that ho' might see her, listen to her voico. With her, lie never forgot the cold night, tho driving snow, tho senseless, inanimate form sho had brought back to life, and light, and consciousness. Ho crave no name either to his pain or his exquisite happiness of being near her. He was in the maelstrom; lot it toss him where it would. The summer came, and on its wings it brought tho whisper that Miss Haw thorne was to be married in tho autumn. The day he heard it he went out, as once before, to walk off tho sharp pang that made his former pain seem nothing. Was it fate that, as he turned into a path leading through the woods, ho descried ahead the slight, willowy, graceful form ho know but too well? She was coming toward him. In an other minute they must meet; but even in that minute something came between them. There was a sudden rustling in the bushes. He heard a low cry from her lips as a large dog sprang into the path, his blood-shot eves and frothing lips betraying his madness. Tbe crea ture sprang toward her but the man was quicker. He had thrown himsolf be tween them and grasped tho dog firmly by the throat. "Hun for your life!" he said, feeling his strength could not hold out long against such odds; but to his utter amazement she stood still. "You shall not die for me," she said. Then he remembered thnt in his pocket was a pistol, he had carried for protec tion when at night he had been entrusted with money by the firm. He told her where to find it. "Hold him a minute longer!" she said. The next, a sharp shot rang out on the aii, his hands relaxed, and the brute fell bleeding at his feet. He turned toward her. She was very pale, and the pistol had fallen from her hold, but her eyes were fixed on his hands. He looked down. For the first time he saw that they were bleeding. 'Are they washed clean?" she said. He held them toward her. "Yes," he answered; "though I have saved your life for another man. I, who have dared to love yon." Sbe spoke no word, but looking a mo ment in his eyes, he stooped and raised first one then the other to her lips. "There is but one man," then she said, "to whom I will belong, and he it is who for my sake washed his hand in blood. Alex, it needed this to lay bare our souls one to the other." Then she burst into bitter weeping, but her tears fell on his breast Killed by Ilia Mother. Tho ATeue Freie Tresse of Vienna relates the story of a crime which occurred in a villago near the Aus trian capital. Some fifteen years ngo a young Austrian loft home to seek his fortune in Amorica. He left a largo family of younger broth ers and sisters to bo reared by his mother, an energetic woman who kept a small country hotel. Tho young man arrived in America al most penniless. He went west, and after fifleon years of work in tho mines, was worth 8S0,00O. As ho did not know how to road and writo, ho did not correspond with his fam ily, and tho latter believed him dead. About two months ago ho determined to return to his country and sharo his wealth wkh his lumily. Ho came to Sow York and convortod his gold into drafts upon tho chief banking houses of Vienna. Some six weeks since ho sailed lrom this city, enjoying, in anticipation, tho sur priso his arrival would causo his folks at homo. He reached Vienna without accident, had his drafts cashod, and left at once for his native village. As was natural, alter an absence of fifteen years, which no had spent in tho mines of California, no ono recognized him. Ho finally mado himself known, and spread be fore his two brothor tho handsome roll of bills of which ho .was tho owner, and which ho announced ho would sharo with them and their mother. Tho latter had now ro moved to a village about 100 miles away, whero sho kept an inn. After a cou'plo of days of rcvol with his brothers tho traveler resolved to visit bis mother incognito. It wus arranged that ho should not reveal his identity until his brothers should join him. The Austro-Amencan made his appcaranco at his mother's hotel. When he saw tho old woman ho could scarcely lorbour discovering himself to her. Hut ho managed to conceal his relationship, of which, of course, tho woman wus in total ig norance. Tho pair had various long talks during tho day. When night came, before retiring, he called her to tho room which bud boon assigned to him, stating that ho had an im portant secret to communicate to her. Then ho told her that ho had in his possession a largo sum of money, and beggod her to take care of it, us ho deemed it imprudent to keep it in his room, particularly as the latter could not bo locked. Tho woman hesitated a moment, saying sho had no place in tho house where the money would bo perfectly sale; but sho finally consented to receive it. Whon the stronger counted ovor 300,000 florins in bank notes, a Bum such as she had, never droamed oi, sho again declined to assumo the re sponsibility. Hut as ho insisted, sho at last took the money and disappeared. What passod within tho brain of that wrctchod woman during tbut night is moi'o readily imagined than de scribed, Upon reaching her bed room sho hid tho treasuro under her mattress. But tho temptation to look at tho enormous roll of bills was too strong for her, and she spread tho bills out on tho table. The sight of tho money so excited her that sho became mad, and, jump ing from her seat, sho took a razor from her bureau drawer, and, steal ing up to tho room whero her son wus lust asleep, cut his throat from ear to car, killing him almost in stantly. Sho then put the razor in her son s hand so as to ninke it look as though ho hud committed suicide. Next morning her sons arrived and inquired for the stranger. Sho sent them up to his room, saying that ho had not yot como to breakfast. They found him dead, and yells ot despair filled tho house. Tho mother, liko all other persons in the houso, wont up-stairs, ioigining to bo utterly ignorant of tho cause of the disturbance. Sho then learned that the murdered man was hor son. The cll'ect that the startling intelli gence had upon her mind need not bo told. My son?" sho exclaimed. "Kill mc, my children! kill mc! It was I who!murdercd him!" Tho woman is now in tho Vienna Lunatic Asylum, and no hope is en, tertainod of ber recovery. Her sur viving sons, it is said, nro despondent about tho death of their brother. A Soap Mine. A natural soap mine has becu struck in Elko county, Nevada. It is a remarkable statum that rests horizontally in a steep bluff of volcanic matter which hanks the eastern side of Smith's Creek valley. The stratum of steatite is from three to ten feet in diame ter It is easily worked, and the farmers, cattle-men and sheep-herders in that region All use tho natural article for washing purposes. Chemically consid ered, this peculiar clay is a hydratcd silicate of alumina, magnesia, xtash and lime. When the steatite is first dug from the stratum it looks like immense masses of mottled castile soap, tho mot tling element being a small percentage of iron oxido. A few days ago Professor Stewart, of Virginia City, received a sample of the soap, prepared by a firm in Elko, who have undertaken to intro duce it into market. It is similar in ap pearance to the castile soap sold in large bars. Nothing is added to the mineral but a trifle more alkali and some scent ing extracts. Its detersive qualities are as powerful at those of any manufac tured soap. Boston Journal of Com merce. When bite trees Im-kiu to shoot it's about ti ne for little bushes to leave. Kiisstnn Squalor. It is ono of Husssia's most charac teristic features that sho, though least of all to bo judged by her groat towns, is seldom, if over, judged by anything else. Tho "obBorvaut trnvelor," who, having run from St. Potersburg to Moscow in a snug sleeping cur, and perhaps ventured as far as Nijni-Novgorod in tho samo fashion, goes homo in tho comforta bio delusion that ho has "seen litis, sia," draws his ideas of tho largest Empire in tho world from tho spacious boulovards.handsomo streets and luxurious hotols of ono great cjty. But St. Petersburg is not llus sia any moro than Alexandria is Egypt; it is simply tho vices of west ern Europe neatly bound In Russian leather. Tho villages of tho interior aro tho truo field of observation for those who wish to seo llussia as it is, and tho contrast which they present is a startling ono indeed. Half clothcd vagabonds loafing about tumblo down wooden shanties; sal low, heavy looking men scratching the earth with wooden plows and harrows, acres of uncleared forest or oozy morass, rough country roads worn into ruts a foot deep, clumsy carts of seventeenth century build jogging drowsily to market at the rate of two miles an hour, begging moriks filling their sacks with the contributions of hard pressed pens ants, famino and cholera working their will in rcmoto hamlets, far from all possibility of help such is the aspect of liussia behind tho scenes. It does not, of course, follow that all .Russian villages aro of this kind, any moro than that all eastern towns aro liko Jerusalem, or all Eng lish public buildings liko tho Albert Hall. But even in a thriving "solo" possessing one church and four shops, six taverns and a real li vo magis trate, frequently honest nni occa sionally sober, tho brisk, hearty ac tivity ot Anglo Saxondom is wholly wanting. Iu a western hamlet, how- ovor small and rcmoto, there is always abundant It to of somo kind. Ono sees tho forgo blazing cheerfully and tho stalwart farm laborers going whistling to their work; pno hears tho clang of tho smith's hummer, and tho "crish-crish"of tho wheelwright's ndzo, and tho merry voices of chil dren at play in front of tho houses, and now and then tho rumble of a heavy wagon that comes jolting and creaking along tho broad whito road. But on tho steppes of "Holy llussia" it is far otherwise All is backward, lifeless, unpromising. Tho few poo- plo whom you seo in tho wide, straight, dusty strcots creep about in a slouching, spiritless way, as if thoy had rothing in hand worth hurrying for. The peasant dozes upon his door-sill, tho postmaster upon his bench, not to bo easily awakened, us you will fiifd to your cost if you arc in a hurry to chungo horses and go forward. Tho tall, groon church tower, looking down upon tho tiny log huts that nestle around it liko chickens undor tho wing of tho mother hen, has an antiquo air sug gestive of centuries of unbroken re. pose. Tho very dogs seem too much depressed to bark, and only show their teoth at you as a mattor of form. Tho baro foolod lasses who stand gossiping around tho vi lingo well scorn to make it a point of honor to bo as long as possible iu filling tbo two clumsy pails which they carry balanced on ono shoulder at either end of a wooden yoko. In a word, tho only sign ot Lfo to bo found is tho children, who go rackcl- ng about in their calico skirts of the most glaringly unwashed character, tho heartiest, dirtiest, happiest little savaijos in existence A'ew York Times. Enolish Official Salaries. English official suluries, especially of tho highor grade of officeholders, are much more handsome than thoso paid in this coun try. While tho President's Cabinet gets a paltry 8000 apineo a year, the princi pal Euglish Ministers hayo 820,000; the Postmaster-Gcnerul has $12,500, the three Junior Lords of tho Treasury 5000 each, tho Permanent Secretary $12,500, the Financial and Patronage Secretaries $10,000 each, Government Solicitor 812,500, Parliamentary Coun sel $15,000. Clerk's salaries in the Treasury run from $ tOO to $1800. The Pormanent Uudor-Sccretarics of the various departments have an aveiageof $10,000 each; the Lord Chancollor has $:)0,000, with 820,000 additional as Speaker of tho Houso of Lords; Chair men of Parliamentary Committees have 812,500; the Speaker of the House of Commons has 825,000, and tho Clerk of Parliament 815,000. There aro nearly 1000 persons attached to the Koyal house hold. Somo of the more consequential of these olliciuls, liko tho Lords in Wait ing, Master of the Horse, and Equerries, have saluries ranging from 83000 to 812,500. Tennyson, as IM Laureate, has 8500. Tho prizes of the Church are the Archbishoprics, 875,000 and 850,000 respectively; while tho Bishops' incomes range from $10,000 to 850,000. Among the lucrative appointments outside Eng land may be mentioned that of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, $100,000; Viceroy of India, 8125,000; Governor-General of the Cape of Good Hope, 830,000; Governor-General of Canada, 850,000; Governor-General of Madras, $01,000, and a number more of the same sort who have an average of $30,000 each. The ambition for easier lives, and more genteel employments, and the silly but common notion that manual labor is menial, that the tool of the trades and the farms are badges of servility, have greatly lessened apprenticeship, and must be refuted in all our schools. He won a tall, thin, starved looking boy, with a little jacket, the sleoves of which crept half-way up to his arms aud a hat that was nothing but a brim, aud when sho saw him ho was eating a crust ont of the gutter. Sho was only a poor old woman who kept a little shop for candy and trimmings, and poor enough itself, heaven knew; but, said she, lie looked a little like what her Tom might bo if he had grown up and been neglected, and she oouldu t stand it. Sho called to him: "Como here, sonny," sho said, and tho boy camo. Before sho could speak again, ho said: "I didn't do it. I'll take mv oath on anything I didn't do it. 1 aiu't so mean." "Didn't do what?" said tho pleasant old woman. "Break your winder," said the boy, nodding his head toward a shattered puna. "Why, I broko that myself with my shutter last night," said the old woman. "I'm not strong enough to lift 'em, that's the fact. I'm getting old." "If I'm round here whon you shut up, I'll como and do it for you," said tho boy. "I'd just as soon. What was that you wanted mo for?" "1 wanted to know what you was eat ing that dry crust out of tho gutter for?" as tho reply. "Hungry," said ho. "I'vo tried to get a job all day. I'm going to sleep in an area ovor thero after it gets too dark for a policeman to see, and you can't huvo a good night s sleep without somo supper, if it is a littlo dirty." "I'll give you somo that's cleaner," said tho old woman. "That will bo begging," he said. "No," said sho, "you can sweep tho shop and the pavement and put up tho shutters for it." "Very well," saul he. Thankee, thou. If I sweep up first I'll fool better." Accordingly, sho brought him a broom and ho did tho work well. Afterward he ato his supper with a relish. That night lie slept, not iu tho area, but under tho old woman's counter. He had told her his story. His nanio was Dick; ho was twelvo years old, and his father, whom ho had never boou so ber, was in iison for life. Tho antecedents wero not elevating, but tho boy scorned good. Tho next morning tho old woman engaged a clerk for a small establishment. Tho terms wero simplo--his "living and a bed un der tho counter." Whon tho noighbors heard of it they were Bhockod. A street boy, whom no ono know. Did Mrs. Briggs really wish to bo murdered in her bed? But Mrs. Briggs felt quite safe. She had so much time now that she was going to take in sewing. Dick attended to the shop alto gether. Ho kept it in lino order and in creased tho business by introducing can dies and chewing-gum. Pennies came in as they never camo iu beforo, since he hud paintod signs in red aud blue ink to tho effect that the real old molassos candy was to bo got there, aud that this was the pluco for peanuts. And in tho evoniug, after tho shop was shut up, sho began to take him into her confidence. Her great dream was to buy hersolf into a home for the agod. It would cost $100. Sho was saving for it. Sho had saved thrco years and had $15 of it. But it cost so much to live, with tea twenty-five conts a quarter, and leaves so small, and she had boon sick, and there was the doctor and Mrs. Jones' Maria Jano to bo paid for minding her and tho shop. After this Dick took tho greatest interest in tho savings, and the winter months incroasod thoni as though ho had brought a blessing. Ono night in spring sho took tho bag from under the pillow and counted what it held. It was 830. "And I'll begin to make kites to-morrow, Mrs. Briggs," said tho boy, "and you'll see the custom it will bring. If a littlo shaver soos tho kites, he'll spend all ho has for 'em, and then he'll coax his mothor for more to buy the stick dates and chewing-gum. I know boys." "You're a clevor boy yourself," said the old woman, and patted his head. It was a plumper hand than it had been when it picked tho crusts from tho gutter, and ho woro cloan, wholo gar ments, though thoy woro very coarse. "How wrong tho noighbors woro," sho said. "That boy is tho comfort of my life" So sho went to bod with tho treasurer undor her pillow and slept. Far on in the night sho awakened. The room was utterly dark. There was not a ray of light but sho heard a step on tho floor. "Who is that?" she cried. "Thero was no answer, but sho fult that somo one was leaning over her bod. Then a hand clasped her throat and held her down, and dragged out the bag of money, and sho was released. Half suf focated, sho for a moment found herself motionless and bewildered, conscious only of a draught of air from tho open door, and somo confused noises. Then she sprang to the door and hur ried into tho shop. "Uick! Dick!" sho cried; "Dick! Dick! holp! wako up! I'm robbed!" But there was no answer; the door into tho street was wide open, and by tho moonlight that poured forth through it, sho saw as she peered undor the counter that Dick's bed was empty. The boy was gone. Gjne! gone! Oh! that was worso to G runny Briggs than oven the loss of the money"; for she had trusted him and he had deceived her. She had loved him and he had abused her love. The noigh bors were right; she was a fool to trust a strange street boy, and had boon served rightly when he robbod her. When the dawn had broke the wise neighbors came into Granny's shop to find her rocking to and fro; and they told her they had told her so, and she only shook her head. Life had lost its inter est for her. Her "occupation was gone," but not with her savings. Money was but money, after all; he had come to be the only thing she loved, and Dick had rolled her. It was ten o'clock. Granny sat moan ing by the kitchen hearth. Good natured Mr. Jones, from the stairs was "seeing to things" and trying to cheer her, when suddenly there came a rap on the door and a policeman looked in. "Mrs. Briggs," be said. "Here she is," said Mrs. Jones. "Yes, I'm that wretched critter," said Mrs. Enggs. "Some one want to aee you at head quarters," said the officer. "There's a boy ilium, and some uiouu." "Dick!" cried Mrs. Briggs. "Oh, I can't bear to look at him." But Mrs. Jonos had already tiod on hor bonnet and wrapped her in a shawl, and taken her on her arm. "The wretch!" she said. ."I'm so glad he's caught j you'll got your monoy back.-' And sho led Mrs. Briggs along poor Mrs. Briggs, who cried all tho way, and cared nothing for tho monoy. And soon thoy wero at their destination. Then, and not before, tho policeman turned to tho two women. "It's pretty bad," he said. "They'll hike him to the hospital in an hour. I suppose you are prepared for that. He's nearly beaten to death, you know." "Did yon beat him, yon cruel wretch?" said Mrs. Briggs. "I wouldn't have had it done for half tho monoy. Let him go with it, if it's any comfort to him." "I beat him," said tho man. "Well. women have the stupidost heads. Why, ii i naun t got up when i did ho d nave been dead. He held tho bag of money tight, and tho thief was pummoling him with a loaded stick; and tho pluck he had for a littlo shaver I toll you I never saw tho like." " 'You shan't toko tho granny's money from her,' says ho, and fought like a lit tlo tiger. If it s vour money, old lady, ho's given his life for it, for all I know." "Oh, Dick! Dick! I know vou were good. I must have been orazv to doubt you," and then she wrung hor hands and cried: "Oh, Dick, for just a paltry bit of money." Aud so she knelt beside the palo still face upon tho pillow and kissed it, and called it tender names. And Dick, novcr guessing hor suspi cions of him, whispered: ' l was so afraid he d got off with it if ho killed me, Granny, ami yon iu such high hopes last night." He did not know what was meant by bogging him to forgive hor. It would have killed him if ho had, for ho was very near to death. Hut Dick did not die. lie got well at last, aud camo back to the littlo shop; and though Granny Briggs had her savings, sho nover went to tho old ladies' home; for long beforo she died Dick was one of tho most prosperous merchants in mo cuy, ami nis uanosomo noino was hors, and bIio was very happy in it. Ruckwhcat lu the West. Westorn farmers aro constantly complaining that thero is no home market lor thoir products, and that they aro obliged to sond everything they raise to tho Boaboard States or to Europe in order to obtain money for it. Tho cost of transportation, they afilrm, reduces tho price to such uu extent that there is littlo or no profit in farming. If they had a homo market for thoir crops thoy could bocomo wealthy in tho busi ness ot producing thorn, lhoy say all these things, in fuco of tho fact that this market is suppliod with tur nips from Canada, cider from Ohio, corn-busks from Maryland, peanuts from Tcnnessoo, und sweet potatoes from Now Jersey, This market is rarely suppliod with tho rcquisito amount of buck wheat, or tho floor mado from it. What gouorally pusses' tor buckwheat flour is a mixturo, in various propor tions, ot ryo and corn meal, wheat middlings, and a small quantity of tho article for which it is named. Tho comparatively small amount of buckwheut sold bore and in other Westorn cities comes principally from Now York, Pennsylvania and Canada. Thoro is no good reason why tho West cannot produco this grain not only for homo consump. lion, but for tho supply of other boo. tious of tho country. Tho consump tion ot buckwheat would bo doublod if a genuine articlo of flour was man ufactured and put ou the market in packages suited to the wants of the retail trade. Take tho seasons as thoy go, buck wheat is a profitablo crop to raise. Only a half bushel of sood is suffi cient for un acre. Tho avorago yield per aero is about twenty bushels. A muchino is not necessary to cut it, and it maybe thrashed economically with a flail and winnowed by pour ing it through a current ot air. It exhausts the soil less than any bowh crop that can bo produced on it. It may bo raised to good udvantago on land too poor to produco paying crops ot corn, wheat, oats, ryo, or potatoes. The crop is usoful in sub duing tough sod and preparing it for tho growth of plants that roquire thorough cultivation. The ground may bo prepared for it, the seed sown, and tbo grain harvested at times whon work on tbo farm is not driving. Jt matures quicker than any field crop produced on northern farms. It is not too lato to prepare land and to sow buckwheat iu most por tions at tho northwest. A fair yiold of grain is often obtained from land on which a crop of full ryo or grass has been harvested before the plough ing was done. To produce a largo crop the soil should be good. To give the best results it should bo as well prcparod as for a crop of corn or small grains. Tho reason why small crops of buckwheat are often' produced are manifest. Tho land in which it is sown is of the poorest quality, and no pains aro taken with its preparation. Tbo seed is often several years old, and is scattered ovor tho ground by a person unac quainted with sowing grains. Ao attempt i made to cover it by draw ing a harrow over a lot of turf, stones and lumps of bard earth. No good crop of any kind is obtained by this kind of management. The Cincinnati Gazette believes wo man want the ballot merely to use it for eurl papers.