A SVfEET WILD HOSE.
if
'Well, since yon mention it yourself,
Hal, I will confess that I was surprised
to find you engaged to Miss 13rookfield,"
said Ned Chester to his life-long chum,
-long
Hall Elmendorf (the two young men
were leisurely strolling through Maple
avenue), "for when I went abroad 3'ou
were most emphatically denouncing the
lieartlessness and selfishness and extrav
agance and a few other amiable charac
teristics according to your way of
thinking at the time of" society girls,
and apparently sincere in your determi
nation to remain a bachelor rather than
marry one of them. And your letters
Lave 'given no hint of a change in .your
sentiments. Quito the contrary. Your
last
ing.
by the by, was the most perplex-
xTn wnniitn's lfitter could have been
.
more
from
rose,'
so
In it you suddenly jumped
tho Clausou mine to 'a sweet wild
of whom you had previously told
me nothing. If I remember aright, the
sentence introducing her read thus: 'And
the dividends this year are much larger
than this sweet wild rose that I have
found in this lonely place, and am al
most persuaded to court and marry,
after the name of Tennyson's landscape
painter."
Elmendorf threw away
looked thoughtfully into
ment, dropped into a still
cigarette,
space a
mo-
slower walk.
and asked, ''Should you like to hear all
about it, old fellow?"
"Of course, I should," replied Ches-
ter. "Lives there a man with soul so
dead, who ever to himself hath said, 'I
take no interest in sweet wild roses?'
And besides that, haven't I been the
confident of all your love affairs since
you were twelve, and awfully smitten
with the pretty girl in Wild's confec
tionery? Drive ahead. I'm all atten
tion." "As you remarked a few minutes ago,
began Elmendoaf, "just before you cross-
ed 'the briny' I became disgusted with
fashionable young ladies m general, and,
as you did not remark, for fear of hurt-
ing my ieenngs, with iiiuaora Jirooimeld
m particular. t was rather hard on a
romantic sort of a fellow, who was
awful spoons on a girl, to be told by that
girl that his fortune considerably en
hanced his attractions in her eyes, and
that for her part she thought love in a
cottage on less than five thousand a year
must be the dreariest of existences. We
quarreled, as you know, and parted.
She went, shortly after, to Newport, and
I, filled with scorn of managing mammas
and fortune-hunting daughters, donned
the blue flannel suit and coarse broad
brimmed hat, and carrying with me only
a small valiso, started for anywhere
anywhere out of the world.
"At neon of my second day's travel
the train stopped at a quiet, tree-embowered
station, and following the im
pulse of the momentjl jumped ofT and
struck into a lonely shady road, resolv
ing to keep on on foot until fate should
sayvThus far and no farther.' Ned, that
road was certainly the loneliest road I
ever saw. Not a ierson did I meet, not
a house did 1 see in an hour's brisk
tramp. But I trudged on; and tho more
Eudora's beauty and grace flitted before
me, the more her sweet voice rang out
in the song 01 tho oirds, the more my
heart yearned for her smile, the more I
was determined to put milos between us.
I would not be married for my fortune.
I would be loved for myself, or not at
all. And growing stronger in resolution
at every step, I suddenly found myself
m iront ot a small gray
mm 1
cottage l re
membered instantly that Eudora
had
a
silk drtss of tho same shade of
gray-
hail covered with woodbines and rose
vines, that stood just at the entrance of a
dense wood, where grew oaks, maples,
willows, elder hushes, blackberry
bushes, and heaven only knows how
many other things planted there by the
winds and the birds. A cow with a
young calf beside her was lowing in a
field opposite, and a brook was sparkling
in the sunshine a short distance away.
"On the porch of this cottage sat
a
middle aged womam.
sewing.
To her,
hat in hand, I advanced and humbly pre
ferred a request for a drink of water.
And she, rising with hospitable quickness
bade me take the seat she left w.hile she
went to tho well. I sank into the chair,
for I was weary, soon she returned with
a glass of water and a glass of milk. I
drank them both not at once, of course,
but during the conversation about the
weather that ensued and had risen to
depart when the prettiest girl in blue
and gold that I ever beheld came tripp
ing up the garden path, a pail of water
in each hand. 'A sweet wild rose,' I said
to myself, and sat down again, convinced
by a single glance at that lovely face and
form that this cottage was Eate's 'No
farther.'
"Accordingly, I told mine hostess that
I was a poor story-writer (3011 will ad
mit that that was no lie, for all the editors
to whom I have submitted my manu
scripts have said the same thing,) with a
book to finish it, and that of all places
in the world to finish it in her beautiful
quiet homo seemed the best, and I beg
ged her to let mo stay there a few weeks,
promising to make her as little trouble
as possible. 'WeH, I don't see nothin'
agin' it if father and daughter don't,'
said she, and away she went again, and
from the murmur of voices in the hall I
know the matter was being discussed by
the family. And in a few moments a
looking old man appeared, looked
at me sharply, and asked brusquely 'Kin
vou 'ford to pay four dollars a week?' I
told him I thought I could, and he seized
my valise and carried it miu mo
I followed.
"Ned, old chap, it was a lovely spot,
and no mistake. Every morning the
birds nwnt-fmnI mr with tlifiir SOngS. and
hfivinc learn-
ed how cruel men can be, that they flew
in at my window and perched upon the 1
glass such
rnm nld class f crooked IUV UOSe
and
crossed my eyes) and watched me dress;
and fragrance enough farm the rose vines
floated into that attic room in one day to
have perfumed Eudora s handterchiel lor
a whole year."
"As for Alice the sweet wild rose
no poet ever dreamed of maid more
beautiful. Large, innocent, dark blue
1 1 1 i.
eves, witn lasues so iuug ium muv vmi u
faint shadow on her round cheeks
mouth, noso, chin, ears, hands, feet,
simply perfection; and voice, not as mu-
sical as Eudora s, it is true, out witn a
childish ring aud sweetness; and when
she spoke, which was seldom, it was with
a simple modest hesitency that made you
long to catch her in your arms and kiss
tho words Iroin nor lull red lips. 1 hail
only seen her three times when I was
madly in love with lier, and thought the
plain calico gowns she wore the prettiest
gowns m the world. Her father and
mother watched us closely, but that
blessed (as I thought then) drought had
set in a week or so before my arrival, and
111 two or three wecKs more our ram
watercask we hadn't attained to the dig
nity of a cistern was empty, and our
well ran low, and much water had to be
brought i"rom the brook, and of course I
helped tho sweet wild rose carry the
pails, and (again, as I thoamt then) the
brook was a blessed quarter of a mile
from the house; and one day, after trav
ersing this quarter 01 a mile with the
pails ard bonnie Alice. I wrote you a
very long letter, in which, among many
other things, I reviewed my Eudora ex
perience, and told you of the treasure I
found in the cottage by the wood. And
few days after posting this letter I asked
the sweet wild rose to be my wife. She
raised those glorious, innocent blue eyes
to my face for an instant, and then hid
them upon my breast, while she whis-
pered the shy darling
"Don't ask father and mother just yet,
until I get used to the thought myself.
It seems so very strange."
"And are you sure you lovo me? And
will you ue willing to wear calico gowns
and live in a little cottage all your life?
said I.
"Try me," she replied,
with glowing
cheeks aud arch smile.
"Now am I really loved?" said I to the
birds, next nicrning not having you.
Ned, I made confidants of them, and,
like you, they never betrayed me. "It is
Hal Elmendorf that wins the heart of
Alice, not his fortune no sighing for
gems and gold, no longing for silks and
velvets and satins, knows this simple
country maid. She is oven unawaro of
her own marvellous grace and beauty,
aud she is also unaware, it cannot be de
nied, of many of the rules of grammar
and pronunciation. But these I can
soon teach her, heaven bless her!" And
then I thought what delight it would be
to see those guileless bluo eyes open
in Tlnnjri vn nnrl nf.nnislirnrnt. tvliprt
after rminino- hnr nnrrmrs' nnnsnnt, to our
t i ,i .1,-., i
the little hand. And 1 made up my
mind to start for the nearest city imme
diately and obtain the ring.
"So, pleading urgent business to my
darling, as soon as breakfast was over I
bade her good-by for a day or two.
"Oh, if you should never como back!"
she sobbed, clinging around my neck.
again before you have time to miss me."
And I was ; for I had only gone a mile
or two when l discovered l had leit nvy
pockotbook behind, and full of anger
against myself for my carelessness, I
hastened back. As I neared the cottage
I heard loud voices the voices of Mrs.
Burdock, mv prospective mother-in-law.
and could it be: yes. it was my sweet
wild rose.
"Well, it's a regular mess, and I don't
know what to say to Bill Tyron when he
comes back from sea
the elder lady was
saying. "Hell
house."
raise
the ruil oil tue
"Let him," replied Alice. "I'll build
you a better house nearer to folks ; for
I'm sure I never want to come back to
this lonely hole again after I onst leave
it."
"But s'pose this man shouldn't be so
rch, after all?" persisted the prudent
mamma.
"He's as rch as Croechus," answered
the aailgUter, in anything but a sweet
voice. And, oh! now dreadiui tne gram
mar and pronunciation sounded in it? Do
you think I'd give up Bill if I wau't sure
of it? He writ a long rigmarole to some
friend of his one day, and he lost a piece
and I found it "
"The page almost ending with the
Clausou mine, and nearly beginning with
the sweet wild rose," interrupted Ches
ter.
"Just so," assented his friend. "But
to go on with the conversation to which
I boldly confess I deliberately listened.
it-re .1 !i. v. i'i -i-rl
read it," said the single country maid.
"Some fash 'liable girl wanted him for
his fortune, and he got mad and cleared
out, and walked round till he found me.
A sweet wild voe, he calls me, and he
ain't so far out, neither."
"You'd better let your pa inquire about
him some before you promise sure to
marry him," advised Mrs. Burdock.
"Rubbish!" exclaimed the rose. "Pa
goin7
thing
snoopiu' round might spoil every-
I know he's got lots of money and
I bet he's gone off to buy mo something
UlCgilUb UUHi VllllU yuwuo, lUUUUU! JL IX
wear silk every day of my life. But como
along, ma, let's go upstairs. P'r'aps he's
left his satchel unlocked, and we
can
rummage through it."
"No, he hasn't," said I. coining for
ward; "but don't let that prevent your
enjoying themselves, ladies; hero is the
key at your survice."
"With a shrill scream, the sweet wild
rose fled. I reached my room under tho
frame of the old looking
"But, I will, dearest," I said, unloos- i ing the good-luck spirit to "take a dance
ing her lovely arms, and kissing the work because they could find nothing tobthatj ml be blo,ved to it. None of
tears from her eyes. "I shall be back else to do. When a man has a family to , . , , , f ,.
eaves in three bounds, gathered together
my belongings, left some bank bills on
the table and fled too.
And I am to marry Eudora Brookfield
a month from to-dav.
Something
Jjout Conductors.
"Dollar and a quarter," said a con
ductor on a horse car going down town,
in an undertone.
"Une dollar and a quarter?" the
re
porter repeated, inquiringly.
a.uaua uub x vc ujuuc since last Sat
urday." "Only a dollar and a quarter9"
"That's all."
rPI..l-r. -J- T .1.. r .
"Honest?"
"lhat s honest. And I don't expect to
make any more. I made only $i 25 last
week, and that was an extra good week.'
"Why?"
"Because I'm an extra."
"An extra?" ,
"les, I'm on the extra list. What I
mean by that is that I am one of the extra
men kept waiting for something to turn
up."
"Are there .many extras?"
"Three every day on our lino. On
registration day there was over twenty
That was done to allow somo of the reg
ular conductors to lose a trip or two and
register.
"And you are paid when you take
a
car?"
"That's all."
"And not when you are waiting?"
"Not a cent."
"That's rough.
"I should say so. I am running a
tripper."
"A tripper?"
"Yes. Twenty-five cents a round trip,
you know, Up to 1 o'clock to-night I'll
have five trips, and that's all I've made
this week so far."
"And you don't know when vou will
get another trip?"
"No more than you do.
You see, this
is what s the matter, and it is tho same
on other reads. I supposo, as on this.
The extra men are kept waiting for some
regular conductor to slip up. For in
stance, an extra goes to the stable for a
punch. He takes that order to the office
and gets tho punch, aud puts it in his
pocket. Onlv tho starter nows that he
has a punch. Now, if a conductor
should miss taking his car at the right
minute tho extra is ordered to take it. Af
ter one trip is made tho regular conduc
tor is probably ready to take his car, and
the extra has to stop down. The
extra gets 25 cents for
that trip, and the
regular
missing
is fined seven days pay ior
his car. If another conductor
doesn t slip up the extra doesn t get an
other job, aud perhaps he'll wait two or
turoe days ior it. Ui course, n a regu
lar conductor resigns or is discharged,
the head extra gets a regular tripper
But what is rough on us is waiting all
day, perhaps, and buying our meals witli-
out heS paid a cent. A dollar a day
wouldn't bo too much, and 50 cents
would be better than nothing,
pay for meals, anyhow. We
It would
can't get
away for an hour or two. We must stay
at the stable all the time, except lo min
utes allowed at meal timos."
"What are the chances of a. regular
car?"
Very slim. The conductors are, as a
support, ho 11 do almost anything, n he s
any kind of a man. A conductor can
make about 2 a day. That's bettor
than keeping books for SS a week. That
is all a merchant offered me. and I don't
ask odds of any man in keeping books."
"There are always applicants for work
on horse cars?"
"All the time. It's hard to get on the
extra list, and it's harder to get on the
regular list.
"Did you have much trouble?"
"1 had to have the names of four busi
ness men as references. But I had
them."
"Much 'knocking down' now?"
"Not much, I guess. I haven't knock
ed down a cent yet, and I don't mean to.
It don't pay in the long run, and what is
more, a man never ought to take a place
unless he means to be honest. If a con
ductor has steady work he ought to bo
satisfied. I know I would be. It is a
dog's life at best, but I tell you there are
plenty of men who would be glad to get
on the road. It's-
Get off here? All
right.
Good night
Marriage In European Annies.
Marriage is an expensive luxury among
the lower grades of army officers in
most of tho European armies. In the
Austrian, German, French and Italian
service regimental oilieers are not per
mitted to wed the object of their affec
tion until they have deposited a certain
sum of money, varying from 5,000 to
0,000, with the State exchequer. Thous
-1 - ii .
ands of marriages are annually averted
by this prohibition, and tho municipal
authorities of cities have presented the
matter for government consideration as a
frightful cause of dissipation and licent
uousness among tho younger classes of
military men. There is one feature con
nected with this prohibitive measure,
however, that commends it to impecu
nious subalterns inclined to matrimony;
it afibrds them a fair pretext for seeking
wives who can bring them a handsome
dower, wnicn is wen understood in so-
ciety; and when a marriageable young
officer invades a household, the mind of
paterfamilias at once reverts to his avail
able cash assets.
A man went out west, turned state's
evidence and swore he was a member of a
gang
of thieves. By and by thev found
a
i i -i .i. i i... i i
ue roii oi actual members, and accused bewailed their fate. Suddenly a ray of
the man of swearing falsely, "I was a light broke through a small opening in
member, said the man, "I was an hon- the wall. A lantern was pushed through,
orable member! followed by a man's head. The man
A Alining Superstition.
Miners, especially those who have
como from foreign countries and repre
sent a past generation of their class, are
given to many superstitious fears. The
younger miners those born in this
country, and who have grown up under
the inliuence of its enlightening institu
tions do not, as a general thing, share
in this superstitious belief, although
some of them place as much inrportance
on "signs" and "omens" of good and
evil as do their more ignorant ancestors.
Among
the superstitious cherished by
miners is that of whistling in a mine.
To
wmaeu. Minors never whistlo while at
work. Sometimes they sing while toil
ing in the dark, damp, narrow chamber
of the mines, hundreds of feet below
the surface, but never loudly,
and only plaintive folk songs
and ballads that have been crooned
over the cradles of generations of their
class. It is a singular fact that, despite
the peril that constantly besets him in
tlie mine, tho coal miner is always cheer
ful amid it all. Let one who may visit a
mine but whistle while among the work
men, and the cheerfulness he has noticed
as characterizing them will be gone at
once. Most all oldmraers believe that a
"good luck spirit" lurks in every mine.
and that at a sound of whistling it flics
and leaves the miners at the mercy of the
spirit of evil. If ill befalls any of tho
workmen that day the believers in the
superstition ascribe its cause entirely to
the frightening away of the good luck
spirit by the fatal whistle.
In 1810 there was a great mine disaster
at this place. Several miners were
buried in one of the Deleware and Hud
son Canal Company's mines by a sudden
n of the roof. Although the
m . t 1
cause oi the caving was Known
to have been a lack of i)roper
support by pillars and timbers, at
least ono old miner, a survivor of tho
disaster, still living here, has always
maintained, and still maintains, that it
i i 1 ri 1 T M
was caused oy the "dare-devn-mmer,
named Jack Kichards, whistling in the
mine while working with his gang, and
against the protests of his comrades.
Bichards was a skeptical young Welsh
man, who ridiculed all the superstitions
of his fellow-workmen. With the old
miner mentioned above and fifteen
others, he was working in the mine, a
mile from tho entrance, on the day of the
catastrophe. The mine was well-known
to be scantily propped and the miners
were "robbing" it preparatory to its
abandonment. Ke is described as hav
ing been a merry fellow, fond of teasing
his companions. On tins occasion he
suddenly laid down his pick and then
announced to his fellow workmen that
he intended to "whistle them up to
tho lligs 'o Barley.'" The miners
were aghast at tho thought of liich
ards' thus flying into the face of mine
luck, and they begged of him not to
chase the good-luck spirit away. He
laughed at their fears, and with clear
loud notes made the chamber ring with
the lively Scotch air. Not content with
that, says the old miner, shuddering at
this day over the sacri-religious temerity
of the merry Welshman, as he rattled off
a jig known by the miners as "Iho Devil
Among the Tailors," and ended by tell-
sp
Some of them tried to work again, but
tho fear of disaster was so strong upon
them that they all made preparations to
t nil A T
quit the mine, ihe old miner who re
calls this incident, says he had a brother
and a son working in another )art of the
mine, and he made up his mind to go to
them, tell them of Jack Bichards' fcol-
hardiness, warn them of its consequences
and escape with them from tho mine.
Jack Bichards could not convince any of
them of tne childishness of their in
tended course.
Suddenly, while they were gathering
np their tools, a noise like the souud of
distant thunder came to the ears of the
agitated miners. They knew too well
what the sound presaged. The roof was
"working, and a cave-in threatened.
The miners turned to Jack and charged
him with bringing disastorhtpon them by
his defiance of the good luck spirit of the
mine. Jack replied that n the root was
falling it was because of insufficient sup-
nnn onI iinr. hopnncn nr mc wmci- mo
and knowing the danger that encompass
ed them all, he counseled his comrades
to lo.se no time in "getting atop." But
before they could take the first step to
ward reaching the surface a second shock
ran through the mine. This time it was
like a clap of thunder near the earth. It
was followed by a crash that could be
made only by the falling of masses of
rock and coal from tho roof, and bv a
gust of wind that hurled tho miners
against the jagged walls of their cham
ber. Then the mine fell in all about
them, and the seventeen miners and
the car horse were imprisoned behind a
wall ot lallen coal, m a space not more
than forty feet square. Their lights
were extinguished, and there was not a
match in tho party. With death await
ing them in one of its worst forms, they
cursed Jack Richards, and one of the
miners tried to find him in the dark to
brain him with a pick. To ascertain
whether any of the gang had been killed
by the falling coal, tlie.namo of each one
was called by one of lie miners. All
responded but Jack Richards. He was
found dead, half buried beneatli the wail
of rock and ooal.
The men worked for hours, many of
them working the flesh from their Angers
in the sharp coal. Some of them lost all
heart, and threw themselyes on the damp
lloor of their underground ru-ison. and
cried out: "Is there any man here that
is alive?" A glad shout from the miners
was the reply. The man pulled himself
through the opening into the chamber.
It was Alexander Boyden the superin
tendent. He took tho dead body of Jack
Richards on his back and led the way,
and two hours afterward the miners were
in the arms of wives, parents and sweet
hearts on top. Richards had no rela
tives but a crippled sister, who was
dying with consumption. She died the
next day. The brother and son of the
narrator of this tragic incident and
twelve other miners were never found.
Three days after the fall, Mine uoss
Hosie who had been in a distant part ot
tho mine when the roof caved in,emerged
from its depths, worn to a skeleton.
With his pick ho had dug his way for
more than a mile through an almost solid
wall, without a taste of food or a drop of
water to sustain him. This mine tragedy
forms one of the favorite narratives of
the old miners of this region, and after
relating it to inquiring visitors they
never fail to warn them not to whistle if
they intend going down a mine. Car
bundule, Fa., Correspondence.
Lunar Superstitions.
Another popular idea is that the
weather changes with the moon's quar
ters, although, of course, there is no
truth in this piece of vulgar astrology.
That educated peojjle, as Dr. Taylor has
truly pointed out, to whom exact weather
records are accessible, should still find
satisfaction in this fanciful lunar rule, is
an interesting case of intellectual sur
vival. Y'et, however, the fact remains,
and in every-day life one of the most fre
quent remarks appertaining to wet
weather is, that it will no doubt change
with the moon.
In many parts of tho country great at
tention is paid to tho day of the week on
which the change of the moon occurs.
Thus, if the moon change on a Sunday,
wo are told "there will be a flood before
tho month is out;" whereas a new moon
on a Monday is nearly everywhere wel
comed as being a eortain omen of not
only for fair weather, but good luck. A
change, however, on Saturday seems
universally regarded as a bad sign, and
numerous proverbs to this effect are
found, scattered here and there, in most
parts of England as well as Scotland.
Some of the most prevalent are the fol
lowing:
A SuturritiT's change and u Sunday's full moon
Once in .sovuu yours is one too soon.
In Norfolk the peasantry say:
Saturday new and Suuday full
Sever was yood uud never wull.
The same notion exists on the Conti
nent; Wednesday in Italy, and Friday in
the south of France being regarded as
unfavorable days for a change of moon.
Again, various omens are made from the
asj)ect of the moon. At Whitby, for in
stance, when the moon is surrounded by
a halo of watery clouds, the seamen say
there will be a change of weather, for
the "moon dogs" are about. This halo
is called in Scotland "brugh" the early
Teutonic word for circlo, as in the fol
lowing rhyme:
A bt ut the moon there is a brugh, .
The weather will be cauU and rough.
A pale moon, too, is equally unfavora
ble; a piece of weather-lore to which
Shakespeare alludes in the "Midsummer
Night dreain" (act ii, sec 2) :
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pule In her ung r. wuslies all th air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound.
When the moon's horns appear to
point upward it is said to look like a boat,
and in many parts there is an idea that
when it is thus situated there will be no
rain a superstition which George Eliot
describes in Adam Bede:" "It 'ud ha'
been better luck if they'd ha' buried him
i' the forenoon, when the rain was fallin';
there s no likelihood of a drop now. An'
the moon lies like a boat there. That's a
sure sign of fair weather." According to
sailors, when the moon is in this posi
tion, it denotes flue weather, for, to use
their phrase, "You might hang your hat
upon it." In Liverpool, however, it is
considered a sign of foul weather, as the
moon is now considered to be like a basin
full of water about to fall. The Scotch
proverb, expressive of the same proverb.
inculcates the following admonition:
The honey moon is on her back,
Mend your shoes and sort your thnck.
Whenever a large planet or a large
star is seen near tho moon, it is said by
seafaringmen to prognosticate boisterous
weather, for, to make use of their term,
A nig star is dogging the moon," Some
years ago, says a correspondent of jSoies
and Quo ies. a fisherman of Toronav
told me after a violent gale that he had
forseen the storm, as he had observed
one star ahead of the moon towing her.
and another astern chasing her. Manv
other superstitious faucies are associated
with the moon is generally supposed to
augur bright weather in summer and
frost m winter. One proverb tells us:
If the moon shows a silver shield,
He not atnid to reup yourtifld;
But if she rises huloed ronnd,
tioon we'll treat' on deluded gxouna.
In winter time, according to a popular
adage:
Clear moon, frost soon.
Home Journal
w4.
JSo American representative at the
Uourt of bt. James since the late Mr.
Motie3r receives so much attention as
Mr. Lowell, our present Minister,
and it is said of him that he has not
time to accept one-half of tho social
nvitations continually showered
t
upon him.
The latest from the logic class: Pro
essor "Miss C, give me an example of
a
true conclusion drawn by two false
emises." Miss C "Logic is an easv
study; that's false, I don't like easy
studies ; that s false; I don t like logic -
that's true. Class is dismissed."