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About The Eugene City guard. (Eugene City, Or.) 1870-1899 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 7, 1882)
t i t TUK BlBHOr OF IESTZ. A LBOEND OF THB BHIMI. Between the pictures ue town of Bin, rnn and tha benntifnl rnina of tha afom ' lold castle of Uhoinfels, an old crumbling : tower may be neon ruing oat or tbe very '.., !.. ru.;.,. ! -enter c Tim I in J a el a wbic tower is called the Mouse Tower strange legenu is 10m 01 tbe wav which tho tower acquired its peculiar name, lhe Htory runs a follows: . Archbishop liatlo was a powerful rinee, ami a high dignitary of the Lurch; but Ins ruling passion waa ove of gold. , Like many other prelates of that dav Bishop Hatto used Lis holy ofllce to en rich himself, and not to relieve the suf ferings of the poor; and to do this it is said that he resorted to oruolities which wonld have put the celebrated robbers i the Bhine to the blush. ' For many years the fruitful fiolds on the shores of tho Bhine had yielded rich rop8 of corn so rich, indeed, that Bishop Hitto had found it necessary to build a number of new graneries to store away his grain ; for not only had he all the corn from his own rich fields, but ha exacted his tithe with the greatest sever ity from the humblest and poorest pea sant as well as from tue richest farmers, . Of course the people grumbled at ! this.when none of the bishop's followers T .1 i l A til l TT 11. t were near; out wueu Arcnuisnop jaauo ' rode through the town of Mentz (or Mayence) with his body-guard around him, the people knolt in the mud to ask his blessing, doffing their oaps; for they Itiew, if they did not, they might have doff their heads (for the bishop's notion of Parliament was to summon the heads of tho people to the palaoe, but to leave their bodies behind) and shout at . the top of their voioes, "Long live the treat and good Hatto, Archbishop of Mentz! ; t But in the midst of this greatness there camo a year of sore distress. fearful famine broke out all over the land. 1 A blight destroyed the vines; the Col ' or ado beetle of the period ate up all the potatoes that is, if there were any and the smut changed the goldon ears of corn into black dust. i What were the good people of Mentz And Eingen to do.' Work! but they bad no work; besides, how could they work without food? Starvation stored them in the face, and naturally made them feel verv uncomfortable. j The Bishop of Mentz held high mass, 3nd prayed that the famine might cease, nd he blessed the lands, but that was all he did. I His granaries were bursting with the tich corn he had saved and hoarded; but Jiot oo grain would he give to the starv ag poor. I It must be confessed that the bishop worked hard enough in praying, and at first the people were very much obliged lor his kiud eudeavors; but when no too l came of it all they began to grum- Lle, and ask each other if it would not lie better for the bishop to save his pre I'ioua breath, and open a few of his gran !ries, so that' at last, as the bishop rode hronsh-the streets of Mentz no one bent be kae, and no one doffed his cap, but he taen stood erect, their thin faces - .... :n. il.: 3 ,11, too wuu uuger, tumr uruia urusseu up- ffin their breasts, and their heads thrown Sinplr rlnriant.lv As the bitmop ambled along on his paltry, followed by bis knights and his Archers, he raised his hand to bless; but Instead of the cries of "Long live the pishop! one terrible word was shouted forth by the crowd in a hollow chorus "Bread!" The bishop was shockod at such want If manners, and waved his hand to order tilence; but still the cry went np in fierce tonus from the men, pleading ao- ents from the women, and peevish, fret lul cries from the ohildren: "BrearM Bread! Bread! "Hermann," whispered the bishop to )ia steward,"! like not the looks of these Knaves. "They look lean and hungry as the kolf in winter, and are dangerous, your race. "Dangerous!" ezolaimed the bishop, rging his steed on at a quicker pace, I do not quite understand you. Her liann. Do you think they would dare Kuch our sacred person 7 "I cannot tell," said the steward, with sigh. "The wolf and bear, in summer me, when well fed, may growl and snarl ometimeB, but never bite. Those men ire starving; those they love are wasting way before their eyes. Jio wonder they open their mouths. "How can we stop them? "By putting something into them," and thes toward. "What! Me fill all these mouths?" flried the bishop. "You must be mad. lermonn. I think, now, that if that f How yonder.with the doublet much too "Which one, your grace ? There are many. Alas! each man s doublet is auch too loose for him." "Yonder man with the black beard. tow. if we could make him an example, ' aud at once string him up at the palace lutes" I "Pardon me, your grace; but that man & Master Biquenbach, the village ar morer." ("That Biquenbach! Why he is a fine, ortly man; and" "Famine has made him a skeleton," itnrrnpted Hermann, with a bow. i "You speak too plainly, Master Her mann, said the bishop, sternly. "I will lave that traitorous fellow seized and ijioged to-night. They may cook and eat aim ii they will." 1 "Pardon me, vonr grace, but if they do, ie fire they will roast him by will bo the itiines of yonr palace. Listen, your grace tie cry of ' Bread' grows louder; and, by 4e saints!" he continued, turning round 'laning on his horse's crupper, and gaz ijs behind him "and by the saints! as 43 pass along they fall in line and fol w us. Be warned in time, your grace, fjpen one of your barns to tha people, 4t they, in the delerinin of their hun i r do violence to your most sacred per 4n." I On rode the cavalcade till it reached 'e Archbishop's palace, the gates of 'Inch were closed and barred directly, isbop Hatto and his followers were m- le. But the crowd gathered thickly outside e gates: and kept np the solemn cry: "Bread ! brea,! f bread!" Bishop Hatto was no sooner behind his lace gates, than courage returned, and f Wilked np and down, rubbing his hands with glee, u he listened to the cry ana inougm mat au uie corn in the land was hia; and he determined that he would keep it. "They croak like frogs," he laoghod. "LiHten to thuir 'Bread! bread!' " "To me 'tis more like the baying of a pack or Hungry wolves," sighed Her mann. "Or the yelping of lot of snarling ours, cuuckieu me bisuop. But here the cry was changed, and the bishop's check grew pale. "Blood or bread, blood or bread, blood or bread." Then came the heavy blows of sledge hammers on the palace door. "Your graoeJ your grace!" cried the captain of the guard, aa ho hurriod into the room and fell on one knoe before the bishop, "the people, headed by Biuueu- bach, the armorer, have taken taken np arms and threaten to burn the palace to ground unless you throw open some of your granaries!" lhe traitorous knaves!" cried the bishop. "How can I part with mv corn? Can we not shoot them down? Do any thing but open the granaries." "Impossible, your grace! In a few hours the palace will be in ruins! May they spare your grace!" "What! kill me? They might-they would! So so it is war, is it? Haste you, good Hermann, and tell them that in two hours the largest granary shall be thrown open to them. Oo! "he con tinued, turning to the captain of the guard "and send Fetzer to me. Yes, yes, he muttered, when be was alone, "they shall have food to last them their lives, and a good fire to cook it; but shall not nurt my palace I Fetzer, for whom the bishop had sent, was a cruel, desperate follow, ready for any deed and with him the bishop consulted for a quarter of an hour. "It shall be done, your grace, said Fetzer. "A right goodly joke, and one to be remembered." At that moment loud shouts arose of "Long life to Bishop Hatto!" for the people had heard of the bishop's inten tion to open his largest granary, and their gratitude knew no bounds. "Go, good Fetzer. go!" oried the bishop; "and see you fail not in my oruers r. At the appointed time Fetzer and some of bis followers opened the door of the big granary, and in rushed the starving people, anxious to get a hand mi oi the grain, starving women. children, and mon knelt down on the floor and commenoed eating the dry corn. Suddenly a err arose that the doors of the granary were closed, and then that the place was on fire. It was but too true. By the bishop s orders, fetzer had set fire to the barn. and all the poor starving wretches were burned. As the bishop heard their shrieks, he oried out to Fetzer: Ha! ha! How merry my mice are to day! How they squeak over their corn! Ha! ba! ha! Down fell the roof with a crash, and soon the whole place waa a heap of smol dering ashes. lired with bis day a work, tho bishop retired to bed but not to sleep. It was not that his conscience p'icked him, or that the gbosts of his victims haunted him that he could not rest not in the least. It was the gnawing of mioe! There they were, behind the wainscot. nibbling away with their sharp teeth. They rattled about in the most ghostly manner, tearing the arras, and playing all kinds of pranks upon the archepis copa) counterpane. Bishop Hatto was dumbfounded. Nev er had a mouse been seen in the palace before! He put his hand out of bed and took up his mitre, which he always of a night kept on a chair by his bedside; there was a nest of mice in it, and the lining was gnawed away. However, he put it on his head, so as not to catoh cold, and jumped out of bed. He hastily moved his feet into his slip pers, but drew them out rapidly ,for mice were in the toes of the slippers, and their sharp little teeth were soon in the toes of the bishop. Seizing his crozier, the bishop laid about him with a good will. smashing everything, and scattering the precious stones from his pastoral staff all over tho place. In rushed the servants they had bet ter have brought the cat and then a terrible scene presented itself to their view. Everything that waa gnawable was gnawed, even to the toes and nose of the bishop. The arras waa in shreds, the bedclothes and hangings were in tatters, the furniture was ruined, and as for the bishop's wardrobe, it waa in holes too holey to suit the bishop. But this is not all. the next day the larder was found empty, the granaries the same, and the skins of wine and bar rels of beer in the cellars had been eaten through, so that all the drinkables were gone also. I he mice came out by millions and millions; but, strange to say, thev only turned their spite against Bishop Hatto, the cruel Fetzar, and his follows. 'lhe bishop took horse and fled to an other palace, followed by Fetter and his men. But no sooner were they settled down than the mice came after them. The bishop knew he could not have brought them in his luggage, for the simple rea son that they hod left him no luggage to bring from the other palace. liow then, did they come here? They left him no time to answer the question, for they ate him out of house nd home as quickly as they had done before. And now was the powerful Bishop Hatto as miserable as the poor creatures whom he had treated so cruelly, for he had to live upon anything he could lay his hands upon, and be thankful that he got it before the mice. Then 1 etzer proposed to the bishop that he should build a tower on a rock in the middlo of the Bhine. "For." said he. the mice will not be able to get over the water." Bishop Hatto at once gave his consent; he wonld hare given everything he had to get rid of the mice, even to his very mitre. So tbo tower was built, and the bishop and hia followers i-hut themselves up in it, believing they had conquered the last mice. But no! In the dead of night the mice plunged by billions and trillions into the river, scaled tha walls in spite of the sentries, of whom they made a hearty moai, ana men swarmed into the bis; op'sapartmonts. Bishop Hatto made a furious resist ance; but it was no use. He fain would have fled, but could not get out of the tower. Many mice were killed, but thev oon quered iu the long run, and the bishop waa eaten, the last sound that rung in his ears being the squeaking of his merry mice. The peoplo on the shore, who had been kept awake all night by the screams of the bishop and hia followers, pulled off to the tower, whore they found no living creature. There were a few dead mice and a heap of human skeletons, one of which had a miter on the skull and broken crosier iu his bony fist. From this the the people guessed that the skeleton was all that remained of the bishop; and to commemorate this dread ful retribution they named the building the Mouse Tower. Let all people remember that it is their duty to relieve the sufferings of others, and not to sneer at them. If "virtue is iU own reward" wickedness is not its own punishment. As a proof of this we may quote the legend of the Bishop of Mentz ana the mouse rower. Emperor Kero'i L-ve for Muilc. In his own person Nero gave the world proof that love for the divine art of musio ean live in the blackest soul. When he ascended the throne he summoned Terp nos, the ablest of the "citheraodi," to hia oourt, and became his industrious and studious pupil in singing, neglecting none of the measures which were prao- ticed by the Oreek musicians of that day for the preservation and development of uie voice. lhe baritone voice was naturally weak, a little rough and hoarse, and only by means of incessant practice, oy tue greatest care in vocal and instru mental delivery, did he succeed in ao oomplishing anything in music. During bis wholo life be was tilled with the oon viction that he was the first virtuoso of his time, and he died with the word "What an artist jKrishes with me!" When, toward the end of bis reign, the proprietor of Gaul, Julius Viudex, rose aguinst him.bothing pained the Emperor more than the tact that in the Ualllo in snrrection he was called a miserable oithara player. Desiring to Bhine as a tragio singer as well as a oithara player anu poet, lie introduced musical festivals into Borne in the stjle of the Greek festivals and in a pnneelv manner. Suetonius says that "their leaders earned 4U.UUU sesterces." finally he deter mined to exhibit his art before the con noisseurs and the publio of Borne, and this Happened in the second spring games, in the year or 04, a short time after the first persecutions of the Christians. All the world had desired to hear his divine voice, but Nero only wished to appear in his garden. Finally. when his body guard united their soli citations with those of the people he promised to take the publio stage, and sent his name to ba inscribed on the list of sincers and oithara players. He drew lots with the other oontesants, and when hia turn came be asoended the stage followed by the tribunes and sur rounded by his intimates. The praefecti Eraetoria cairied his cithara. After he ad taken his place and played the pre lude, he had Cluvious Bufus announce that he wound sing Niobe, and he sang for an hour. Nevertheless, he postponod the contest lor the principal prize and the other numbers of . the pro gramme till the next year, in order to have an opportunity to be heard oftener. The postponement was too long for him, howeven, and he ap peared repeatedly in publio. He did not soruple even to associate with the aotors of the privato theaters, and one enter prising manager, a praotor, closed an engagement with him one day for 1,000 - 000 sesterces, a remuneration which he owed less to his art than to the testy and dungerouK urtistio pride. Besides the cithara songs.he sang a number of tragio parts in costume. When he impersonated heroes and gods, he wore a mask made to resemble his own features whilo the masks of the heroines and goddesses copied the features of the woman of whom at the time he chanced to be most fond. Among other rolos he acted the parts of Orestes, (Eipus and Hercules. Butter fbom a Hand-Oroan. The Keokuk Gate City has unearthed the meanest man on record and locates him at Burlington, Iowa. The story, as the paper mentioned tells it, is that while a deaf, dumb and blind hand-organist was sleeping on the poBtofiloe corner the wretch stole his instrument and substi tuted a new-fangled churn therefor, and when the organist awoke he seized the handlos of the churn and ground away for dear life, and when "the shades of night were falling fast," that meanest man in the world came around, took his churn, restored the organ to its owner, and carried home 4 pounds of creamy butter. A young attorney, a day or two since. having delivered himself of a speech in the Superior Court, asked the clerk if he could smoke in the room. "Yes," was the reply.. A pipe was handed out and the gentleman was busily engaged in building smoke columns in the air, when the Judge laid a $5 fine upon him. "I thought you said that I could smoke here?" inquired he indignantly cf the clerk as soon as he got his breath. "I did," was the reply, as that buBy officer proceeded with his minutes. "Didn't you smoke?" ' A considerate friend: Some poople when they are tight are very considerate. Not long since Gus De Smith, being un der the influence cf a dinner party .called at tho residence of Colonel McSpillkins on Austin avenue. "Ish Colonel Mo Spillkinsh in? I want to see him on 'mportant business." "Yes," responded the dusky menial. "Sho heesh in, is he? Well, ef heesh in, never mind distnrbin' him on my account. I'll call again shorn day when he's out." A cold weather conundrum: "Will tha coming man abut the door behind him?" is tbe latest inquiry. It is to be hoped that he will, for tbe going man seldom does. Somarville Journal. The planet Saturn is now in opposition to the sun. But the sun will prob ably anrvive, in spite of tbe opposition of Saturn and all his rings. Lowell Courier. TUE L1T1I LKSbO: BOf AXD GIRL Tommy. Isn't this a ripping place? It secuis to me as if the downs were like great green waves, rolling along and swelling bigger and bigger; and here we are, you and I, up on the very top of the biggest wave of all, which hangs here forever, aa if it would plunge down tho next, moment and swamp the real old sea. Sybil. What nonsense vou do talk Tommy! Come; it's quite time I began my lesson. Whafs this book.which you say a can reaur 1. lhe Anthology. S. The what? T. The Anthologia Lutina. S. What's that? T. Oh. I don't know: it's a sort of col, loction. It's good for girls, because it leaves out tue bail things. n. nut l want to rend what boys read. 1. lou caut. vou know. We have to read awfully impropor things at souooi. S. I don't see wht it is irood for von to read tbiugs which it isn't good for me to read. I don't see why girls should be umereni irem boys. 1. 1 don t see why either. I suppose it's best. I think I am clad vou are different. S. Do lot us begin. You are ao idle, T. It's so awfallv iollv doinur nothina up here. I should like to lie here for ever on this nice short grass and star at the sea. Isn't the sea dazzlins in the sunngni? it looks like millions of pen knives. 8. Penknives! It's like diamonds. T, Should rou like to have millions of diamonds? I wish I were a fellow in the "Arabian Nights," and I would give 'em io you. . I don't wish for anvthiair so sillv. vo Bit up, ana lot us begin. 1. Oh, very well. Here you are: I picked ontthis for you to read; it's all correct; it s about the death of a spar row. 8. Well? T. Well-I say. Sybil. I wish the brim oi your bat was a littlo wider. S. Why? T. Because.as we have cot to look ovor tbe same book, It would be jolly to sit in the shade of the same hat. We should be like Paul and Yirgiuia. 8. Who were they? T. They were young people who were in love with each other in an opera; or something. a. How silly! Come, now; do begin. i. iou must begn: soe ii vou can translate it. I've got a stunning transla tion of it in my pocket, whioh my tutor made. S. "Lament, 0 " T. "Venuses and Cupids " 8. But there was only one Venus, T. Oh, that don't matter. It's a sort of poetio lioense: they have to make it scan, you know. I can t make out the next line; and I can't make out my tu tor's translation of it; but it don't matter; .-' Oil a. A in o vuij u uii up. viu uu at passer. o. i ne prrow or my gin u dead, Tha doarmw dl Hot T. (reads from his tutor's translation:) The ptrr iw of mv dMneit ilrl Ii dead. Tbe ijwrrow. darling of my dear. Ii deal. noom more man Her o wo tym ine loved to: For be wan booered-Tolced, aud be would know Uu miairea, ai a trl ber mother dear; Nor from her p-nlle ootum would he go But dopplat rouod about, now (bare, now here. He piped to ber alone moat aweet and clear. S. There nothing about "sweet and clear" in the Latin. T. You are so awfully particular. Svbil. I wish it wasn't all about a sparrow. I don't care for a sparrow. An! look at that lark. He got up quite close to us. Phew! do9sn't he jump? What great leaps he goes up in! Mnsn't be be tre mendously happy? fancy being able to go like that, and having wind enough to sing all the time! o. I wish you wouldn t let your eves wandor all over the country If you don't keep them on the book we will never get on. T. All right. This other's a jolly one this one "To Lesbia? S. Who was Lesbia? T. She was the girl who had the spar row; he is in love with her; but vou bad better not think of ber. I believe she wasn't at all a good sort. H. What a pity! T, She made him awful unhappy. S. It was his own foult. I can't think why people fall in love. 1 . VI course us awfully silly to fall in love. S. I think it horrid. T. People say that a man and a wo man can't be friends, because one of them is sure to fall in love. 8. That must be nonsense. Look at you and me I We have been friends for ever so long. 1. xes;anddo you know. Sybil. I d ather you were my friend than any fellow know. S. It seems vory hard, this, " To Les bia." What's the meaning of basiationes? T. I think it means "kisses." 8. Oh! T. "You ask how manv of vonr kisses. Lesbia, are enough and more than enough for me. As great as the number of Lib- ian sand in spice-bearing Cypenne, be tween tbe oracle of something Jove and the sepulchre of old Battins, or as many as are the stars that" 8. Oh, we won t go on with that. Poets are always so sill) when they begin to talk about those things. I do wish you would finish one thing before you begin another; you T. "It's good to be off with the old love before you are ou with the new " b. lommy. T. All right. I'll attend awfully well now. Go on; see if you can do it. Go on with the Spadger. S. "Who now goes through the way tenebricosnm? T. "Full of shadows." S. "Thither, whence they refuso any body to return." 1. llmt s right, lou really do know lot of Latin. I sav, do you think that Clara could be friends with a chap with out trying to make him iu love with her9 Clara isn't a bit like you. h. Ularo is very pretty. T. Do you think she is prettier than Marion? S. Clara is prettiest; but Marion boa so much character. T. Marion could be friends with a boy. S. Friends with a boy! What an ex pression! What bad English you do talk! T. I ftlwavi do when I mn tiannv. Onn can't be jolly grammatically. I think Marion doesn tcare about boys. B. indeed? Suppose we go on with our sparrow. T. I should like ber to like me. H. Oh! What ia the meaning of Ore? j. uroi! ijet me see the book. Ob, Orous is-at least it isn't really what we mean when we -I'll see how my tutor puts it. Ah! I'll hap befall re, ahadea of trim deipatr. Who glut yourwWa with all thlnn that are fair! Ah! he shirks the difficulty; it's just iiae mm. , S. You surely don't think Marion pretty do you? T. I don't know. 8. You must have vory funny taste if you do. Now, Clara is pretty, if you like. T. Yes; isn't Clara pretty? My word! isn i sno pretty S. Yes: of course sho's orettv. T. What are vou starinc ont to ana like that for? Are you looking at that air 8. I was thinking that some friend might be on board that ship, now strange it would be! Fancy if Mr. Red grave were coming home on tbat ship! 1. Bedgrave! What on earth makos you thiuk of that old chanpv? is. now ridioulons you are, Tommy! He isn't a bit old; and I think he's very uandsome. T. He's a iollv old humbtio. When he's playing tennis with me.he's as lively aa possible; but when he's with the women he looks sentimental, and makes eyes; and aa for hia not being old, he must ne thirty n lie s a day. 8. That I'm sure he can t be. I'm sure he is quite youug. Of course he isn't a boy. T. Well, I don't mind being a bov. wouldn't be a man for anything, and it I was i wouidn t be a flirt. S. Don't be so horrid. Tommv. Poor Mr. Bedgrave has been very unhappy. i nai is wuat mates him look like that, He was in love with the most beautiful lady in the world; and she was very cruel, and marriod a millionaire or some thing. 1. Idont see anything yery cruel in marrying a millionaire or something. He told you all this precious story, did he? S. No; Aunt Adelaide told me: but ne T. What did he tell you ? S. Oh, it was one day he waa laughing with Aunt Adelaide about womon; and be turned to me and said, with a melan choly smile T. I know it. , Like this! 8. Not a bit like that. He said, with a very sweet and melanoholy smile, that must take care not to be a flirt, because some day 1 might do a great deal of mis chief ; and that women ought to try to ao good to people, and not harm. 1. Home day! That means when you are a young lady. I know I sha'n't like you when you are a young lady. I hate young ladies. 8. Marion is almost a young lady. T, Ah! but she's different. - 8. It'a ridiculous of you to say that juarion is pretty. 1. l never said that she waa pretty, said that she was not as pretty as uiara. 8. You are a disagreeable boy. any way. You have always made such a pre tense oi T. Of what? 8. Of thinking me your very best friend. T. Then why do you talk about that old Itedgrave I 8. You are vory disagreeable, and I shall go home. T. No, no; don t go. Its bo jolly here. Let's Bolemnly promise to ba each other's friend. S. Till when? T. Forever and ever. 8. I should like to show these stupid people that a man and a woman can be friends without caring about each other one bit! T. Ye-es. Only I don't know what you'll be like when you are a young lady. 8. I sua n t be that for ever bo long. I don't think that I shall be old, or be gin to think that I am old, until I am twenty. T. I'm afraid you'll be awfully pretty when you're a young lady. 8. Don t be so silly, Tommy. T. Any way, you'll like me better than old Bedgrave ? 8. Of course. And you II like mo bet ter than Marion ? T. Yes. 8. And Clara? T. Ever ao much bettor than Clara. 8. Very well, then. T. What do you meun by "Very well, then?" 8. That is settled; and now I can go on with my lesson. T. liut we almost polisbod off poor Mr. Sparrow. 8. What a way to talk! T. It don't do for a girl. You have to say "prunes and "precision all day to make your mouth pretty. 8. lommv, you are exceedingly silly; and it's better to say "prunes" than to chow grass; and if you ain't going to look at the book instead of staring out to sea, I shall go home. T. All right, Sybil. Well do him up in less than a jiffy out of my tutor s translation. Here you are: III bap befall re, ahadea of gri m deapalr, Who ilut rourwlvea with all tblngt that are fair! Bow fair toe Ultle bird re reft from met O deed III donel foor Ultle btrd, for tbve for Itijr dear aake mj giri'e aweet eea are red, Aud mtlitL ail w no Iwnihai iiiuu are dead By George, it is most awfully touching! isn't it, Sybil? Fancy how long ago that poor little beast died, and here we are still sorry? s li nr t . lit a. J.uue ueasu T. Oh, look! far away across the sea do you see that tiny little sail? Fancy if it was my ship coming in! . iou are the strangest boy. T. Shouldn't I just like to have a shin? I wish it was ever so long ago; and that I might ail away and fight a Spaniard. 8. I should like to know what tbe Spaniards have ever done to you, that you should want to fight them. T. I don t know; but I m sure n would be jolly good fun to fight a Span iard. S. That is so like a boy. Perhaps yon wonld never come back T. No more! Oh yes, I should turn np; and I'd bring yo;i back a jolly lot of things too a ship full of apes and n. Tommy, T. Oh, apes are a detail; they come in ith ivory, and peacocks, and all sorUof stunning things; and diamonds from the diamond fields; and silver from the ail- ver'mountains; and gold dust from the golden rivers; and parrots and paroquets and a Bed Indian princess in feathers and Iridici- ions T. Yon wait till I do it. Ilf tffO back to school next half to cot little -11..1l .1 ll Yi -m. . w.n tuutuaii. aim iiiou a m uu; ana i iflvring you back a hundred ostrioh-tails I pnt bring on your noau wueu yon go to uourl I'll kill sparrows on the wlna- with i tol in oi'ther hand von like: amil marry yon and the Indian princess die of iealousv. and 8. Tommy! I think you are going nl it must oe me sun. T. Not vonr mad. 8. Then don't talk any more nonsonil It's quite time to go home. T. Home's the word; and I'll carr the book. Poor Master Sparrov "liugete, o eneros Cnpidineriquo!" Blackwood's Magazino. The fliarmoa Sworl. Once upon a time (all fairy tales com mence in this way, so of course mine must) there resided in Persia a poor baker, by the name of Hezrim Ispa han, who had but one son, Zelim. Though poor, Hezrim had contrived to give bin son a good education, and was prepared, when the time arrived, to.start Lim in business. Bnt ono morning Hezrim was consid erably astonished by hia son informing him that ho (Zelim) was about to travel to a far-off country. "But why is this, my son?" asked Hez rim. "I have had a dream, father," replied Zelim. "And what didst thou see in thy dream?" "I waa visited by a fairy, who in formed me that the beautiful and be loved Princess Snowdrop has been car riod off, and she also told me that tha youth who rescued her, on him would the king bestow the hand of the Princos, and I am determined to go in search of the prinooss." "Let me persuade you from such a rash undertaking," said Hrim. "Are there not beauteous maidens enough in this city to ohooso from?" But Zelim waa not to be persuaded from his course. Accordingly, Zelim set out the next morning in search of the prinooss, tak ing with him his fatbor's blessing, and a Bword, said to possess magio qualities, presented by his father. After traveling two or throe days, dur ing whioh he enoountored and overcame many difficulties, he came in sight of a great castle situated upon the top of a high hill. Zelim resolved to pay a visit to this castle, and, if possible, obtain abetter for the night. In a fow minutes he was at the castle gate. Zelim then pullod the bell-rope, and the bell olangod out dismally on the evening air. The gate was opened in a few minutes by an old hag, so hideous that Zelim shuddored at the Bight of her. "Who are you, and what are you," snarled the hag. "My name is Zolim. I am the son of Hezrim, the baker of the city of Yezd, and I desire shelter for the night," re sponded Zelim. "Well, oome in and I will see my husband," said the woman. Zelim stepped boldly in, though a sight of the hag would have frightened one but little more timid than he. Tbey were soon in the presence of the owner of the oaatle, whom Zelim dis- covered to be a dwarf, who oould have measured no more than three feet in height, but who possessed strength to a remarkable degreo. His bead was entirely out of propor tion to his body, being extraordinary large, with glaring eyes, a huge nose. and a mouth whioh soemod to reach from ear to ear. The reauired permission was obtainod. and Zolim was shown to a room where he was to pass the night, Without dolling bis clothes, he threw himself upon the couch, and was soon in the arms of the drowsy god Morpheus; for he was very tired, having traveled many miles that day. Bow long ho slept he knew not, for he was awakened by hearing a piercing shriek proceed from some part of tha castle. Zelim sprang off the couch, drew his magio swoid, and rushed out of his room to the place from wbenoe the cry pro ceeded. After searching in several rooms, he heard groans issuing from the chamber close by. The door was locked, but Sohm, with a mighty effort, burst it open and rushed in. The sight which met his gaze waa this: A maiden, beautiful io the extreme, bound to the wall, and sobbing as if her heart would break. "Who art thou, and why this situa tion?" asked Zolim. The maiden was reassured at the sight , of the handsome stranger, and answered: "I am the Princess Primrose, and am the captive of the owner of this castlo." Zelim s heart gave a great bound at these words. This the beautiful prinooss of whom he was in search, and lie about to rescue ber! What bliss! Our hero's thoughU were cnt Bhort by the appearance of tbe dwarf, who, utter- , ing a howl of rage, sprang upon him. Zelim stepped nimbly aside and raised his charmed sword, which, however, no sooner touched our hero's ninpio blade than it melted like lead and fell to the ground. Wttb a swift pais jclim ran his sword right through the heart of bis opponent, who fell to the ground lifeless. With ono blow Zolim cnt the bonds, and, seizing tho princess, who had fainted, in his strong arms.be rushed out of the castle, and was on bis journey to tho King of Persia, tho princess' father. In a few days he reachod the palace. Tbo king was overjoyed to soo his daughter returned safe, and rewarded Zelim handsomely. But in a' few months he reoeived the greatest reward of all namely, the band of the princess. Great was the rejoicing of tho inhab itants at the marriage of tho handsome Zelim and the beautiful Princos Prim rose. Zelim sent for his aged fathor.and pro vided for his comfort for thereat of hia davs. The magio sword waa carefully pre aervrd, and kept aa ao heirloom for Ze lim's descendant. S. Tommy, how ean you be i