1H8 "ll'CKf blXPMM."
Tl.s xrtnl steamer had just discharged
Jr ivtng freight' at Castle Garden, and
the throng of weary travelers homesick
Iu.' niauy of them already-pushed
ft war through the Battery Park to
ward the great "ty. the roar of whose
V,ecU soundol around them like the
Juml'l'nK treatening of the sea they had
. . .i.,m Wiind them.1
One little group stood apart from the
mwd waiting until the hurry aud loud
toieed'cxciteiuent should be over. A
woman, with a baby in her arms and two
little boys dinging to her akirts, and a
ouui lmahing before him a small two
-heeled can, iu ......
,...1 rirl whoso thin hands gathered
closely about her the faded red shawl in
which "ho was wrappod.
"Well, Lisbeth ?" the man presently
4lUY;t a bit. John." Lisboth said, qui
.,!?, shifting the baby to the other arm.
Ju -then a uuppur mvio iuuu up
proaohed them, with note-book and pon
;1 in hand.
"An! my fine follow, good-morning! A
flue morning thin?"
"Av, snr. varvy, thank ye kindly ,Biir,"
UJ the man pnllcd his forelock in token
0 respect.
I'm a reporter," went on the dapper
little man, "and am going around to
get statistics lor my ammo on immigra
liin."
4 wot?" ejaculated the man. Boa
pardon, wir, I see. You are going
wound wi' a paper. It does your heart
credit, sur; ail I'd give willingly bo be
iu' I'd enything to give. They called
'em VriptiouB, sur, at home; an' when
I've a shillin' for them as is poorer than
me. hy, yer welcome to it, but now"
"No, no) my man! I don't wantmoney;
its information I waut about yourself and
family, W hat s your name.'
"Mv narao's John Dixon.an' my family
was alius refutable ; my grand'ther
was-"
"Oh. there, thore," said the reporter,
waving his pencil somewhat impatiently,
..v ......... Ta ka vnilp u'ifaV"
1 (II'U V IUuU UUV. iO Uiio jvui n lit,
" 'Deed.sbe is.sur: our banns was cried
three times this months twelve year ago
an-"
"Yes, yes, my good fellow, and these
vour children, all of em, eh?"
"Ah, sur, all on 'em mine; I ain't
s) rich I could start a n orphan asy
lum, Btir."
The reporter grinned.
"Why did you leave England? lou
srs English?'
"Ay, snr, I'm English; well, I left cos
I could net stay, times was that bard."
'And you are going where?" and the
reporter paused pencil in hand.
"That's what I like some un to tell
me," and Dixon scratched his head du
bioaslv. "If I could Ret a roof to put
them little head under to-night, I'd be a
thankful man.
"Oh! I can find you a roof. Now,
let's see, four children, and one of them
a cripple."
"Av. sur. one a cripple," and Dixon
bent fondly over the little girl in the
cart, smoothing the wavy hair away from
her blue eyes; "an' our eldest, and we
wouldn' part wi' her, no, not for all the
gold sovereigns we could carry, would
we?" and he looked around the little
group, sure of his answer.
"No, no, my blessing." And the
mother stroked the little head softly,
while the boys flung them on her with
ewer embraces.
"Ham! yes, very proper," said the
reporter.
He bit the top of his pencil medita
tively: then he beckoned to a friendly
looking policeman who was strolling
toward thorn.
"Hore, my friend, can yoa direct this
niao to some place near, where He can
Had lodgings?"
"Jnt a conple o' rooms where we can
bi Je till I look around a bit," explained
Dixon, ducking his head respectfully.
"All right, oome along," and the
friendly policeman smiled to little
Tauey, sitting pale and qniet in her cart.
"Little girl looks thin," he said, pres
utly. "She's never very strong, our Janey
isn't," aud the mother looked anxiously
down to meet the tender, loving smile of
Ler little daughter.
"Voysge pretty hard on her, too. dare
say," Bttid the policeman, stooping to
easa tlie Jittle enrt over the crossing.
"There, my friend," he continued, turn
ing to Dixon, "third house to the loft I
think you'll be Bure to got lodging there.
I know the man; he'll do as well by you
as any."
"Thank ye kindly, sur," said John,
gratefully. "It's a bit strange comin' to
a new land an' not knowin' where to
turn."
"Whatever diJ you come for, then?"
muttered the policeman to himself.
Then alond, "That's all right. Maybe
I'll see you again; this is on ray beat."
Then, with a frioudly nod to Janey, he
turned away.
Tind, almost discouraged, Mrs. Dixon
set speedily to work to clean the two
dusty, grimy little rooms they were to
call home for the present, while John
and one of the boys went out in search
of the few articles of furniture they
eeded, and something to satisfy their
hunger.
Little Janey, holding the baby on her
lap. sat looking on wistfully.
"Poor mother! I wish I could help
you," said she, sadly.
"You do help, my lass," the mother
"aid heartily; "see just how quiet you've
kept baby all this time, so I could clean
op a tut
Janey smiled brightly.
"Whenever he frets I show him my
lucky sixpence, an' then he laughs," and
Janey dangled the coin before the baby's
eves."
The "lueky sixpence" that is. a six
pence with a hole in it was hnng round
Janey' neck by a strong but much faded
blue silk cord, and was the child's one
great treasure. It was the only thing
she possessed of her very own, except
her little two-wheeled cart, and she could
not very well bang that round her neck,
or go to sleep holding it in ber hand.
"Dear, dear!" sighed Mrs. Dixon, stop
ping her work a minute to wipe her heat
ed face with her apron; "it's many a year
since Master Fred o' the Home Farm
gied you that lucky sixpence, Janey. It
as just before he left for "Meriky, I
mind, sod be stopped to wish us good
bye. Yon were a little thing, playin'
round the floor, not so old by two year
asJimmie there," pointing tothefonr-year-old
youngster who was making him
self perfootly happy in a corner of the
room with two old wooden clothes pins
be had found. "I wonder what'a come
o' Master Tred," she continued, scrub
bingawsy again; "he couldn't hit it off
very well w' his undo at the farm, so he
come to 'Meriky , an' that put it into yonr
father's head, worse luckf'
And she sighed a little as she glanced
round the cheerless room, but she
brightened up when she beard her hus
band's footstep on the stairs, and when
the table and chair were put in their
places, and tho kettle boiled on the little
charcoal furnace John bad bought,
quito a cheerful littlo party sat down to
supper.
"We've got a littlo money, Lisbeth,"
suid John to bis wife that night, when
the chilJron were asleep, "an' I've got a
stout ht'utt an' a stout arm, an' it'll bo
queer enow if iu all this big town there
isn't some job as wauts to be done as I
can get."
"But you'd like farm work best, John;
you're used to that."
"Ay, ay, lass, but 'beggers niusn't be
choosers;' not that we're beggers yet, my
lass;" and he gave ber a sounding kiss.
Johu was strong and willing, but day
after day passed, and still be searched
in vain for work. Once in a whilo an
odd job fell in his way, but no steady
employment, and fastor and faster his
little hoard of savings melted away.
"Ay, luss, it's not far a shillin' goes
hnru," he said one day, with a sigh, com
ing in from tlie grocer's who re he hud
been to lay in their Blender provision for
the coming Sunday.
Mrs. Dixon shook her boad, and a tear
or two fell on the jacket she was mend
ing. She had grown pale and thin, and
the little faces of the child run had a
sharp, hungry look, which almost broke
her heart to see.
That night little Janey awoke sobbing
heavily.
"What is it, lass?" and her mother,
roused by the sound, bent over her,
"I thought Jimmie hod brought me
a cowslip-ball," sobbed Janey. "Oh,
mother, I wish we wers home.'
A "cowslip-ball!" Thoir thoughts
flow back to the little green lane, a
stone's throw from their humble cottage
door, where between green hedge-rows
primroses lurked and yellow cowslips
nodded their golden heads. Mrs.
Dixon dropped her face beside Janey 's,
and in her heart echoed the child's
homesick cry.
Sunday passed, Monday, Tuesday, and
still no work. Jimmy was crying oyer
the last of his scanty breakfast being
done, and Sam was choking down a sob
over his crust.
Janey, pale and quiet, sat hushing the
baby in her arms, while the poor mother
looked at the little group dry-eyed and
despairing. John threw himself into a
chair, with a groan.
"It's no use, Lisbeth." be said husk
ily. "I can't get work. "I'm a strauger
ye see. What good is there arms," and
lie thrust out his brawny fists,"if I can't
use 'em? The yonng 'una want brad,
and there isn't a single sixpence in the
horse."
Then his glance fell on the lucky six
pence Janey was swingiug before the
baby; but he quickly turned his eyes
away again. She saw the look, however,
and by-and-by she gently drew her
motherdown besido her.
"Mother," she whispered, softly,
"would this buy bread?" touobing the
cherished coin.
"Yes, dear, it's as good as any," Mrs.
Dixon said absently.
"Then take it, mother dear," Janey
said hurriedly, the tears Btarting to her
eyes. "Take it and get some bread;
quick, before father oomes back."
"Your lucky sixpence, child!" cried
her mother. "No, no, Janey, not that.
We'll do somehow. Why, I've alius
thought mebbe we'd see Master Fred
some day, and then you'd bold it up and
say 'Here's the lucky sixpence you gave
me long ago, Master Fred, and I've
never forgot you, never!' Why, Janey,
you've alius thought so very much
of it, you Burely couldn't part with it
liOW?"
Janey's lips trembled.
"I could for you, mother."
Mrs. Dixon caught her in her arms.
"No, no, my little lass, I can't do that.
Flease God, yonr father will get work
to-day."
But day after day began in hope, to
end only in disappointment. The city
seemed full of men wanting work, and
if thore was any hopo in tho future for
poor John, he never t-eemed able to
catch up to it, and tlie present with its
poverty and sorrov seemed to shut him
in like a black cloud.
The few articles that could be spared
found their way to the pawnbroker's.and
Mrs. Dixon, who had had some washing
given ber to do, had to give it up, for
the babr was taken sick, and mohned and
waed dismally, whenever she put it out
of her arms.
"No bread i' the house, and no money
to buy any. We've come to that, my
lass," groaned John Dixon one day, cov
ering his face with his hands, whilo his
wife tried to quiet little Jimmy, who
was begging for something to eat.
Janey slipped out of her chair and
crossed the room slowly to where her
father was sitting, gazing gloomily at
the floor.
"Father," she whispered, leaning on
her crutch, and putting the other arm
softly round his neck; "father, will you
take me out awhile? See bow brightly
the sun shines."
"Out, Janey?" he said, gently. "Well,
lass, get yonr bonnet; draggin' your
little cart isn't bard work, but it's doing
aomethin'."
' Mrs. Dixon gave Janey a grateful
look. Janey, who could always win a
smile from "her father.no matter how
vexed and gloomy he was. And he had
been so unlike himself for days now.
that hij wife Welcomed the thought of
his aroint? out with bis little lame daugh
ter, knowing he would come back more
cheerful.
"Father," said Janey, as they left tho
door, "do yon know why I wanted to
come out?"
"No, lass, mebby 'cause you wanted to
Bee the shops, eh?' and he smiled kindly
at her?"
Janey shook her bead.
"I want to eo into a shop, though, for,
fatber,4isten," and the tears started to
her eyes. "I'm going to buy aomethin'
wi' my 'lucky sixpence."'
Jobn Dixon stopped snon.
"To buy aomethin' wi' your 'lucky
sixpence, Janey?"
"Ay, letner, janey answerwutur-o.j.
"I wanted mother to take it, and she
wouldn't, ao I am going to do it myself.
I'll get big loaf, an' mebbe a drop of
milk for baby."
John Dixon drew bis hand across his
eyes.
"Janey, little lass," be began huskily,
but Janey stopped him with a tremulous
smile.
"An' you'll take me to the big shop,
futhor, what we saw one day, wi' all tho
little cakes piled up in the winder? I've
always boon wanting se much to go into
it.and now you see I can," with a dreary
attempt at choerfulness "cos I've got
something to buy. You'll take mo, won't
you, father?"
John Dixon nodded, and thon went on
silently, Janey holding her treasure
clasped tightly in ono littlo thin band,
and furtively wiping awav the fast
falling tears with ber little faded red
shawl.
Happy children, who have everything
they can desire, may think the loss of an
old sixpence with a hole in it very little
to cry over, but it was Janey a all. It had
been her plaything from babyhood, and
she was never tired of hearing about
Master Fred, who bad given it to her
"jest afore he went to Meriky." And
now she was goiug to part with her one
treasure. She put her lips to it softly,
and now tho tears came so fast, there
was really no uso iu wiping them
away.
"Are you sure. Janey, about this?" he
asked gravely.
Jsney gave a deoidod nod.
"Then go in, lass, by yourself," ho
svd, hoarsely; "I'll wait outside. I
couldn't bear to see you givin' it for the
victuals I ain't able to get myself for
ye."
Then he set Janey softly inside and
(doped the door.
There was a crowd of people standing
round the counter, and Janey grew vorv
tirod standing and loaning on her crutch
awaiting her turn. A gontleman near
noticed the pallor on the little thin
face, and, quietly bringing a stool, lifted
her upou it.
He smilod at her shy, balf-frightencd
"Thank you, sur," as she gave him a
grateful look.
"What are you waiting for, little
woman?" he asked pleasantly.
"Some bread, sir," Janey hnlf whis
pered, opouing her hand and showing
the tightly held sixpence.
"A 'lucky sixpence!' " oxolaimed the
stranger, looking curiously at ber; "why,
I wouldn't spend that if 1 were yon."
Tears rushed to Janey's eyes.
"I wouldn't neither, eur, only father
can't get any work. I've had it, oh, ever
so long!' she went on, enoouragod by the
sympathy she saw in bis face, "ever
since Master Fred went to Meriky."
"Master Fred!" said the stranger
starling;
"tea, sur; do you know him?" askod
Janey, simply ;
"I've seen him, I think," he answered,
smiling.
"Was his other name Thorndyke?"
Janey nodded; then, as be turned
away a moment, she touched his sleevo
timidly.
"Oil, please sur, if you ever see Mas
ter Fred, will you tell him, sur, it wasn's
'cos we'd forgot him, but 'oos father
hadn't work John Dixon, tell him, sur,
and he'll know -and 'cos baby was sick
and the children starving, so I had to
take the 'lucky sixpence' he give me to
buy something to eat."
"I'll tell him," said the stranger, qui
etly. "And look here, little woman, I'll
give you this bright, new quarter dollar
for your sixpence; and then youoan get
a loaf of bread, and a little tea and su
gar for your mother, too."
Jaoey looked np wonderingly.
"Oh, sur, how'd you know? Mother
hasn't had any tea for most two weeks "
Then she began with trembling fingers
to untie the knot in the old fadsd silk
eord.
The stranger watched her with a trem
ulous smile on his lips, taking the coin
which she presently plaoed in his hand
with an almost tender touch. Then he
went and got Janey's loaf for her and
lifted her off the stool.
"Thank you kindly, sur."
Two great tears splashed heavily
down as Janey took her paroel, bat she
managed to smile at her father as he put
her into her little cart.
She told him of the gentleman who
had given her the silver quarter, but
said nothing of ber message to Master
Fred. "Father might feel bad," the
wie littlo woman said to herself,
Then there was her shopping to do.
The liny packets of tea and sugar to get,
and the 'drop o' milk for baby," and
altogether Jney was in quite a glow of
excitemont when they reached home
again. The boys' cries of delight and
her mother's wonder .whon she put tho
tea and sugar in her hand, filled the lit
tle, loving hoart with happiness.
"But, dearie, you'll miss it sore,"
whispered Mrs. Dixoh.
Janey's face flushed, then she touched
the old silk cord.
"I have this yet, mother, and sometime
I'll mebbe forget it's gone."
"Bless you, lay lamb!" said the moth
er, fondly, as she stroked the little thin
hands, busy untying the strings so that
the could "see the bread ourselves," as
the poor little chaps said.
They had each been provided with a
slice, and Janey, with a sob of happi
ness in her throat, was feeding baby
with some spoonfuls of warmed milk,
when a quick knock came at the door.
"Preserve ust who's that?" cried Mrs.
Dixon, with a frightened look.
"There's naught to be feared on, lass,"
said her husband aturdily. "Come in!"
The door opened and
"It's the gentleman as was good to
me!" said Janey, with a little astonished
gasp.
The stranger came forward smiling
and holding out bis hand.
"It's" said John Dixon, stumbling
to bis feet.
"It's Master Fred!" cried Mrs. Dixon,
throwing her apron over her head, and
beginning to sob.
"Well, my good woman, don't cry
about it," said Master Fred, laughing
and patting ber shoulder.
Such exclamations and explanations
followed! They had to tell abont the
people at home, and then "Master Fred"
had to tell all about bia big farm out
West, and bis horses and cows; and then
bit by bit the story of John Dixon's on
availing search for work was told.
"How lucky r cried Master Fred.wbile
poor Jobn Dixon looked np in surprise.
''I've just bees wanting a man like yoa
to take charge of tho young leasts I'm
raining for market, and there's a small
house on the placo that will just do for
you. so if you like it tho job'a yours."
Of course John Dixon "liked it," and
said so, warmlv.
"All right." Mister Fred ratttod on.
"Can you start day af tor to-morrow, Mrs.
Dixon' I leave for home then, and you
can stay with us till your own house is
ready. My wifo will be as please.1 to
have you as I will. Yes," bo went ou
laughing, "I have a wife, Mrs. Dixon, a
dear little girl nut much taller than
Juney there."
At which they all laughed again. You
see they wore so happy it diilu't tako
much to make them laugh.
"Oh, by tho way," said Master Fred,
"can you let me nave sumier witli you
to-night. Mrs. Dixou? I brought my
picnic banket along, and we'll have a real
olu-iasliioned supper ot nam ana eggs.
Blent the woman, what is she crying
about now?"
"Oh. Muster Fred." boMhh! Mrs.
Dixon, catching his Lund, "it's because
I'm so happy, aud because it seems like
a bit o' homo to see you again."
Master Fred gave lnr hand a hearty
shake and then brought a bitf market
basket from the hall.
"Now, Mrs. Dixon, plosse get sup
per, and I'm going over to talk to Janey,
to try aud forget bow hungry I am."
Janoy looked np with a happy smile.
"Now, little woman, can you guess
what I've beeu doing since I saw you?''
Janot shook her bead.
"You can't guess, eh? Well, then, I'll
have to toll you. I've been getting a lit
tle present for the best and dearest littlo
girl I know. Would you like to seo it.'"
"Please, snr," said Juney, shyly.
"Shut your eyes first, then."
Jaoey shut them up tight.
Master Fred then took a littlo package
from his pocket and opened it.
"Now look!"
Janey opened her eyes quickly, and
there lying in her lap was a pretty chain,
with hor own 'lu?ky sixpence" banging
from it.
"For you, dear child," said Master
Fred, kissing her thin choek.
When Master Fred went back to his
hotel he left happy hearts behind him in
the little room.
"Master Fred said I could drive the
cows," said Sam, delightedly.
' Me, too," chimed in littlo Jiinmie.
"See, mother, baby's laughing!" tuid
Janey, laying her cheek against the little
head.
"Sure God's been good to us," said
the mother reverently. "It's amazing
strange Master Fred finding us to day,
just when things looked so bad."
"And to think," said John Dixon,
drawing his little daughter close to him,
"it's all come, with God's blessing,
through Janey and her 'lucky six
pence.' "
The ITind as Motive rjwer.
Whon we look at the register of British
shipping and see 40,000 vessels, of which
about 10,000 are steamers and 30,000
sailing ships, aud when we think how
vast an absolute amount of horse-power
is developed by the engines of those
steamers, and how considerable a pro
portion it forms of the whole horse
power taken from coal annually in the
whole world at this time, and when
we consider the sailing ships of other
nations which must be reckoned in the
account, and throw in the little item of
windmills, we find that, even in.tbe pres
ent day of steam asoendoncy, old-fsah-ioned
wind still supplies a large part of
all the energy used by man. But
however much we may re
gret the time, when Hood's young lady,
visiting the fens of Lincolnshire at
Christmas, and writing to hor dearest
friend in London (both 60 years old now
if tbey are alive), describes the delight
of sitting in a bower and looking over
the wintry plain, not desolate, because
"windmills lend revolving animation to
the scene," we canuot shut our eyes to
the fact of a lamentable deoadence of
wind power. Is this decadence perma
nent, or may we hope that it is only tem
porary? The subterranean coal stores of
the word are becoming exhausted surely,
and not slowly, aud tho price of coal is
upward bound upward bound on the
whole, though no doubt it will have its
ups and downs in the futnro as it has
bad in the past, and as must be the case
in respect to every marketable commod
ity. When the coal is all burned, or
long before it is all buruod, when thoro
is so little of it left, and the coal mines
from which that little is to be excavated
are so distant and deep and hot that its
price to the consumer is greatly higher
than at present, it is most probable that
windmills or wind-motors in some form
will again be in the ascendant, and that
wind will do man's mechanical work, on
land at least, in proportion comable to
its present doing of work at sea. Popu
lar Science Monthly.
How to Delect Classical Maste.
I can give you a simple rule by which
the most ignorant may know whether
any given place of rausio should or
should not be admired. If you know at
once what it is all abont; if it aeems to
be saying 1, 2, 3, hop, hop, hop, or 1-2 3,
bahg, bang, bang, you may conclude at
once that you are listening to something
of a veiy low order, which it is your duty
to despise.
But when you hear some thing that
sounds as if an assorted lot of notes bad
been put into a barrel, and were being
stirred up, like a kind of harmonious
gruel, you may know its a infcue, and
may safely assume an expression of pro
found interest. If the noies apjeir to
have been dropped by accident, and ara
being fished up at irregular intervals in a
sort of placid, or drowned condition, it
is likely to be a nocturne, and nocturnes,
you know, are quite too utterly lovely
for anything.
If the notes seem to come in car loadi,
each load of a different kind than the
last, and if the train seems to bo an un
reasonably long time passing any given
point, it will turn out most likely to be a
symphony, and symphonies are just the
grandent things that ever were. If the
notes appear to be dumped out in masses
and shoveled vigorously into heaps, and
then blown wildly into the air by explo
sions of dynamite, that's a thapsody, and
rhapsodies are among the latest things in
music George Kyle in Quiz.
Erin No. An Irishman with a glass
eye can not become an American citizen.
Can't natural eyes him.
The Book Agent's el come.
A youug man with a large book under
his arm and a seven-by-nine smile on
hie mug stuck his head into tho ticket
window at tho Uniou depot and usbed
the clerk what the faro was to San An
tonio. "Ten dollars aud fifteen cent's replied
the ticket-slinger.
"I am pining to leave Galveston, but
lack ten dollars of the ticket inonev.
However, that shan't part us. I'll
make a partial cash payment of fif
teen cents aud take the remainder out in
trade."
"What do you mean by taking it out
in trade?"
"I am a book agent, and if you will
let me have the ticket I won't try to sell
you a book I won't say book to you
once. This is the most liberal and ad
vantageous offer ever made to tho public
and you ought to tako advautage of it.
I have lxen known to talk a sane man
so completely out of his senses in fifteen
minutes that he wasn't even fit to scud
to the legislature afterward."
"What book havo you got?" utked tho
tiekot agent.
A beaming smile came over the book
agent's face, and in a sing-song voice he
iM'gun:
"I am offering seventeen volumes of
Dr. Whimitroo's Observations in Pales
tine a book 'that should Iw in every
fuin'ly, a book that comprises tho views
of a very intelligent doctor ou what ho
saw iu the Holy Land, with numerous
speculations and theories on what he did
not Bee, altogether formiug a complete
library of deep research, pure theology
and chaste imaginary. I am now offer
ing this invaluable encycloedia for tho
unprecedented low price of $2 a volume,
which is really giving it away for nothing-"
After the book agent had kept this up
for about ten minutes ho began to grow
discouraged; for, instead of showing
signs of weakening, the ticket agout.witu
an ecstatic smile on his face, begged the
clonn it man to keep on.
Tho book agent stopped to rest his
jaw, when the ticket-man reached out
his band, and said: "Shake olo fel!
Come inside and tako a chair, and sing
that all over again. That cheers mo up
like a cocktail. I used to be a book
agent myself before I reformed and
went into the railroad business, and
that is like music to me. It soothes me
all over. It calls back hallowed memo
ries of the past, and makes mo want to
go out on the road again. I would
rather pay twenty dollars than have you
leave Galveston. You must come around
every day. I could listen to that all day
and cry for more."
The book agent abut bis book and
iid: "Some infernal byena has given me
away; but there is another railroad that
I cau get ont of this ono-horse town on.
I'll not oonsent to travel on any road
that don't employ gentlemen who can
treat a cash customer with common po
liteness. You can't capture my book
on any . terms, and if you'll oome out
of your cage I'll punch yonr head in
lens time than you can punch a ticket."
And he passed ont like a beautiful
dream.
Leopold and Hrb-B.
Queen Victoria's yonngest son, say I
the Baltimore Amerioan, Prince Leo
pold, Duke of Albany, waa married Yes
terday to Princess Helen of Waldeck
Pyrmont, the fourth daughter of a petty
German prince, who has enjoyed noth
ing more than a nominal sovereignty
since the results of the Prusso-Austrlan
war of 18C6 handed bim over to the ten
der mercies of Bismarck. "rhe principal
ity of Waldeck is about at large as Bal
timore county, and does not eontaln
more than seventy thousand inhabitants;
but the family has a long ancestral lino,
and the marriage of one of its daughters
with nn English prince fulfills the oon
ditions that no anion of the throne can
wed with a subject or any one not of the
Proiostant faith. It is true that the
traditions were violated when Priucoss
Louise married the Marquis of
Lome; but the rosults of that experi
ment were not so satisfactory as to en
courage any further ventures in the
same direction. The marriage of Prince
Leopold is not a particularly brilliant
one, but Princess Helen is beautiful and
amiable, and is at least fitted to do the
best tbut anv woman can do to console
the life of such a confirmed invalid as he
is known to be. His epileptio oonflio
tions are as ranch a mutter of common
report as is his dreamy and reolnsive
temperament, but it would be loousu to
predict what may become of him under
the infloence of a bright aud aggressive
women, such as tlie Ptincoss may prove
herself to be. His marriage leaves bis
sistor, the Princess Beatrice, the last nn
wedded child of the Queen's family, and
she remains unmarried for the sole rea
son that there is no bachelor Prince of
Protestant Europe who is deemed fit to
mate ber.
After Many Years.
Tn Ilia Utter part of 18G3. while Gen.
Steele was commander of the post at
Iiittle Kock, a Aiissourisn nameu iwui.
II. Crowley, of Price's command, was
f-antnred sums whore below the city, and
brought here a prisoner and confinod
temporarily in ium ovavo uuo. iw
horn nrnwfnv wan taken to Carol) Chase.
where be remained until tho close of the
ar Mr. Oowlev. now an old man. re
cently arrived in this city. Going to the
State House, be searched for a time
the hallwavs. and finally took a
hundred dollar bill from a bole in the
"When T wax m nnsoner here, said
i, ni,i man "f HARretflil a 8100 bill in a
crevice in the wall. I knew it would be
impossible for me to keep the money
thrntiirli mr nrison camiiaicn. and I
ti.nniriit lir liiiiinir it I initfht. in after
years, come and find find it. After I was
libeiated I went to my hone in wissoua
where I resumed my business 01 iarra
ing. At times I was bard pushed for
money, but I did not once think of the
8100 bill which I secreted in the Arkan
sas HUte House during the war. About
a woek ago, while sitting with my family
after the dsy'a work had been ac
conipliahed, and while I was wondering
how I could raise $50 with which to pay
a debt, I happened to think of the $100
bill. I don't know why I thought of it,
and, in fact, I cannot toll for the life of
me why I should have ever forgotten it;
but I did both forget and remember it.
The recollection of hiding the money
seemed liko a drenm. At the tims whon
I was a prisoner I was weak and worn
out. A hundrod-dollar bill was not a
very laigo pioon of money. I did not
hide it carefully; but seeing un opportu
nity to secroto the bill, which I believed
impossible to hide much longer about
me, I seized tho opportunity. To day,
when I went to the State Ilonse and
fou ml the money, I was moved with an
indescribable emotion. As I took tho
Mil frmn it liiilmc tilucn a flood of racol-
- - ' O I "
lections poured over me. For a moment
I could hoo the hungry taoes around me;
T nnnlit kxa riiprri',1 fiirms ntiil I nnnld
hear tho half plaintive, half-revengeful
voices around me. I felt for a moment
as I must have felt when I placed the
money in its hiding place; and, upon my
word, although I bad eaton a hearty
dinner. I felt for a time as thoucrh I
could eat a roasted inulo. Littlo Itock
Gazette.
t'lom Boaps.
The announcement that Eldor Scrages
would speak in tho Tweutioth ward meet
ing liouso on "Home Industries and Di
vine Inspiration" drew a large audience.
Kcraggs having roceutly purclutsod an
interest iu a soap factory, it was predict
ed by his acquaintances that his discourse
would lead a trine toward his liusinoss.
He spoke ns follows, from tho text,
"Cleanliness is nexttoGodliuess": "My
brethreu, nothing which God has put
into the mouth of tho inspired writers
was ever said araUs. lho idea comes
with almost miraculous oduptability to
the present stirring epoch whon thore
are so many that doubt the inspiration
of the word and don't uso soap. Now,
we should all take tho truths of Scrip
ture home to our hearts and uso none
but soap mude hero in Salt Lako. There
are other soap factories hero iu Suit
Lake, but none that do as mine can. 1
succeeded in the soap business bo
causo I havo faith in tho revela
tions of tlie divine word. My re
ceipt was a revelation diroct from
heaven. We read in the good book
of the aogols clad in raiments of
shining white, and I havo no doubt
in my mind tuat the same sort of soap
is used is heaven as I ara now retailing
at ten oonta a bar, although I have a"
cheaper grade for the country trade. The
soul of every man is like an old dirty
towel that has been used for two weeks.
It needs the oleasintr Drooess to make it
white. We must be cleansed in the work
of repentance and faith, and put right
through the ringer of aflliotion, which, by
the way reminds me that ttrotner Boggs
is now selling the Excelsior wringer,
bettor a good deal than Smith's rickoty
old machines, who is now an apostate
from the true faith, and the spirit of the
Lord abido'h not in him. Unless you
patronize tho men who are in -the fai th
the doors of salvation open not unto you
and yonr souls will roast in the everlast
ing damnation of hell. My soap is now
being mode plain and soentud, and pnt
up in convenient packages. We will
now sing tho 481th hymn, 'The Lord
will wash mv guilt away,' with choir
standing." The Salt Lake Tribune,
Yarcinntloo.
Smallpox? Ihave been thinking a good
deal of it, seeing reports from all over
the country, do you know I have often
thought it would be a good thing if this
city were scourged to the very heart with
that disease, to teach the people their
duty? Nothing else will ever do it.
Nothing. A lot of these new fangled
phantom physicians have been tolling
them some pretty stories, and the foolih
people have taken them for truth. Tbey
will And too late that they are like the
practitioners phantoms. The man who
stops to discuss vaccination with any
other view thau to insist on it emphati
cally is an idler.
From the most careful study of statis
tics and of the opinions and experience
of the acknowledged authorities, physi
cians have come to the positive conclu
sion that smallpox is capable ot being
completely eradicated from any commu
nity by a proper and persistent system of
universal and repeated vaccination.
From the year 1798 (when the immortal
Jenner announced to the world his great
discovery) to the present time, facts
have been constantly accumulating for
the elucidation of the most nniveraal
truth ever demonstrated by the science
of medicino, and that is that vaccination
whon properly performed, is a certain
and perfoot protection against smallpox.
I repeat. That was my opinion 20 years
ago, and all I have beard, read and seen
since then strengthened that opinion. I
urged oompulsory vaccination then, I
nrged it to-day, and with tho accumu
lated force of 20 years' additional experi
ence. Dr. Lewis Balo in New York
Herald.
A I lucky Georgia U t :.
Miss Nellie Boed is the name of
young woman of Georgia who recently
accompanied ber nnole to Nag's Head,
North Carolina's delightful resort. Last
Wednesday afternoon she accepted an
invitation from one of her admirers to
go sailing on the sea. The day was
pleasant and the yonng folks enjoyed
themselves, starting just bofore sun
down to return to the shore. In going
abont, the boom struck the young man
a terrific blow on the bead and hurlod
him into the water, Miss Reed instantly
seized a boat hook, and by banging
over the rail and exercising her utmost
strength, she waa enabled to drag her
companion's body on board. Her ef
forts to restore bim to consciousness
were not so successful, however, and it
occurred to ber that the best thing to do
was to sail with all speed for the shore.
She had never handled a boat, bnt she
had watched sailors closely, and in a few
minutes the craft was souddling along at
a lively speed. Many persons would
have been appalled at snob a task, es
pecially as it grew dark and the wind
freshened. A steady run of throe-quarters
of an hour brought the boat to its land
ing, and then the plucky Georgia misa
delif ered her wounded charge into the
the hands of bis friends. The yonng
man recovered from the blow, and the
young woman is the admired of the Nag's
Head Company, and the question now ia
whether ho will insist on marrying the
girl who saved his life. Ohio State
Journal.
Says an eminent divine: "There is a
past which is gone forever; but there ia a
future which is still our own." The
Democratic party cannot do better than
to cnt this out and paste it ia ita hat.
r i
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