A LITTLE WISE TVOMAX.
Louis Clare had gone out for a walk
quite early in the morning, and as it was
Saturday , she had lingered over her en
joyment of the beautiful day, the fresh,
sweet air, and the cool breeze from the
sea. Louisa was a school teacher, and I
iui quite sure not one of the noisy,
wild creatures whom rhe sought to guide
in the paths of knowledge, enjoyed the
weekly holiday as she did,
But even Saturday wus not all holiday
she had brought home exercises to cor
rect, and copy-books to look over; and
she began to reflect that she could not
afford to stay out much longer, even on
holiday morning. She had sat down to
rest for her long walk had tired her on
a seat formed by an old tree-trunk that
had lain long enough te be all green and
moss-covered, and only a little way in
front of her the sea washed up against the
rough, shingly beach. Louisa still lin
gered, and Hung little, loose stones into
the water, and as each skimmed the
surface and disappeared she thougt,
'I must really go this will be the last."
Then, with an effort, she rose, aud
urned resolutely toward home; and as
she did so she became aware of the figure
of a man at a little distance. He was
walking rapidly toward hei , and though
she scarcely recognized him. she was con
scious of a familiar look about his ap
pearance his figure, his walk alto
gether he looked like some one she
ought to remember, yet could not. Ashe
came quite close, she uttered an exclama
tion which signified at once recognition
and surprise; and she stood still staring
at him and wondering.
It was Mr. Glover Glover the mil
lionaire, as some people called him; but
he was scarcely worth a million, although
he was past all doubt, the great man and
the rich man of the place. Among other
things, he was a power in the school
where Louisa taught; and in that way
she had seen him occasionally, and had
exchanged words with him now and then.
But never in all her experience had Lou
isa seen Mr. Glover or any one else
look as that gentleman now looked. His
face wore the pallor of the dead; his eyes
wore wild and haggard; his dress disor
dered aud his movements uncertain and
shaky like a drunken man's. He would
have passed her by, unconscious of her
jn-esence, without a look; but Louisa
stopped forward, laid her hand on his
arm and called him sharply by his name.
In long years after she often said that
something told her she must do so.
Mr. Glover stopped and looked at her
stupidly, as though the sound of his
own name was strange to him, and he
was trying to think what it had to do
with him, or why it was spoken to him.
Louisa was frightened" at herself, as
well as at him, and began to tremble;
mid then her eyes filled up with tears
that presently rolled down over her
cheeks.
"O, Mr. Glover," she sobbed, "what
is is the matter what is the matter?
And then Mr. Glover who was a good
deal of a gentleman by nature seeing a
woman in tears, forgot his own trouble
and looked at hor attentively.
"Why, it is Miss Clare little Miss
Clare, the school ma'am!" he said, as he
recognized her. "And what is the mat
ter with you, my dear ? Why do you
cry, and who has been annoying youV"
"io one oh, no indeed and there's
nothing the matter except that you seem
to be in such deep trouble sir, and I
was afraid."
"And that's why you are afraid you
cry for mo?" asked Mr. Glover; "can it
be possible ?"
He sat down on the moss covered tree
trunk where Louisa had been resting, and
motioned to her to also, lie said:
"Sit down-, Miss Clare, sit down."
Louisa obeyed instantly.
"Are you very unhappy, Miss Glare?"
asked Mr. Glover.
"Unhappy, sir about what ?"
"Oh! nothing in particular. I mean
merely in a general way."
"I am not unhappy at all sir."
"Is it possible ? And yet, your salary
let mo think. I believe it is some
thing about three hundred dollars a
year that they give you ?"
"Just three hundred dollars a year,
sir."'
"And yet von are not unhappy are
you ?"
the contrary. Ah! sir, it is not alone the
possession of money that makes people
happy."
And then, fearing she had said some
thing so personal it might be rude for
Mr. Glover Avas so rich and so evidently
not happy Louisa felt the color mount
to her cheeks, and her eyes drooped
before the intent gaze of her compan
ion. "Do you. think a man might ever bo
happy, and yet quite poor V" asked Mr.
Glover "so poor that, compared with
what he had been, his position would be
one almost of poverty ?"
"Oh! yes, sir," said Louisa, with r.
gentle confidence in her own words; "J
am quite sure of that; for what docs the
most extravagant wealth give more than
one can enjoy by simply having enough?
Ono can only eat, or drink, or sleep
enough at least one ought not to do so
any more than enough," she added with
a smile, "and those who do are not hap
pier for it."
Mr. Glover looked at hor as though
she had solved the great problem of ex
istence. "What a wise little woman!" ho said;
and then drawing a pistol from his poc
ket, ho rose took a few steps forward,
and flung the weapon far from him with
such force that it went singing through
the air, and fell into tho water beyond.
Louisa had started up with a scarcely
repressed a cry of fright; but as Mr.
Glover returned aud "reseated himself,
she sat down beside him.
"Miss Clare," ho said, earnestly and
gratefully, "you have saved me from
committincr a great crime. I came out
here to kill myself with that pistol that
vou have seen me throw awav: and but
r
for tho intervention, the tears in your
gentle eves, and the hopeful courage in
vour voice. I wouid have done it. I will
tell you now what all the world will
know to-morrow I am a ruined man.
But I will not die like a coward; I will
live and face the music, as they say.
Good-bye, .you wise little woman. You
have saved a life more, perhaps you
have saved an immmortal soul tins
morning simply by being the brave, con
tented, hopeful being that you are.
Goodbye! goodbye."
He wrung her hand hard enough to
bring the tears in her eyes, and turned
awaj, while Louisa went home rather
dizzy, her heart in a whirl, and alto
gether too much amazed by the scone
just ended to think much about her own
share of it.
When the state of Mr. Glover's money
affairs became public there was the
usual nine dsys' wonder. He yielded
everything to his creditors, and found
that they were more nearly satisfied thau
he had hoped for; they even left him a
little house which was once rented at a
low rate to Louisa Clare's mother, and
which Louisa, in her wildest dreams of
future grandeur, had once or twice
wished somo day might become hers.
Beyond that he had absolutely nothing;
but he was still an able man. He had
failed honorably, and people were willing
to trust him. And after it was all over
he wont one day to see Louisa and told
her that he found she was right; his
state of mind was far from desperate.
In fact, he was almost happy.
After, that he went to see tho little
school teacher quite often indeed so
often that he seriously interfered with
her duties; and when she came to know
him quite well she used to tell him so,
with the sauciest toss of her head, and a
faint blush in her pink cheeks.
"I can't help it, dear," said Mr. Glo
ver he often called her so, for he was
man years older than Louisa she was
such a child-like little creature. "You
are my counselor my comforter my
all in the world. More than wealth, or
houses, or lands and though it looks as
if I was going to be a rich man some
time again, Louisa, it will bo nothing to '
me without the wisest little woman in
the world to show me what to do with
my money, and the best way to make it
a real source of happiness to myself aud
others."
So it came to pass that Louisa said,
"Yes," being much entreated; and she
went to live in tho house she had
vaguely dreamed of years before
A Duel on HorseliacX.
The Earl of Glencairn challenged
Liciitenant-General Sir George Muuro
for grossly oj)probrious language used
by him toward the Highland troops, as.
being "no qther than a pack of thieves
and robbers." They met ina field near
Dornock, "by gray daylight." They
were both well mounted on horseback;
each of them were to have one pistol,
after discharging of which they were to
fight with broad-swords. The jnstols
were fired without doing hurt. They
then engaged with their swords,
and after a few passes, my Lord
had the good fortune to give Sir
George a sore stroke upon his bridle-hand,
whereupon Sir George cried
cut that he was not able to command his
horse; "and I hope," says he, "you will
light me on foot.
j4Ye carl." savs mv Lord. "1 will let
you know that I am a match for you
either on foot or horseback.
Whereupon they both alighted, and at
the first bout mv Lord cave him a sore
stroke on the brow, about an inch above
his eyes, which bled so much that he
could not see. His Lordship was going
to thrust him through the boclv. but
John White, his man, pushed up his
sword, and said.
"You have enough of him, my Lord."
His Lordship, in a passion, gave John
a stroke over the shoulders, aud then
took his horse and came to his quarters.
Munro and his brother went to head
quarters, but with much ado, for the
bleeding at head and hand."
Their only attendants as secomls were
Lord Gleucairn's trumpeter and valet
his man John above mentioned and
Lieutenant-Colonel Alexander Munro, a
younger brother of Sir George. Notes
and Queries.
A Colporteur's Death and Fortune.
In the year 1849 Bev. Giles, wife and
daughter resided in Setauket, Long
Island. On the 28th of September, in
that year, the husband and father left
home by stage for Stony Point, Long
Island Sound, five miles distant, intend
ing to return by water with a sail boat,
and has never since been seen by his
family. Many years passed, but Mr.
Giles was never heard from, and it was
at last supposed that lie had been
drowned. The fact that the sail boat had
been found capsized led to this belief. Ac
cepting this as true, Mrs. Giles became
the wife of the late David F. Lyon, of
Schenectady. On Tuesday, Nov. Uth, a
man known as the Bev. John Edward
(Hies died of acute apoplexy at Niska
yuna Centre, Schouectady county. Upon
his person was found nearly 820,000 in
government bonds and bank notes. He
was slightly deranged, aud for years has
followed the occupation of a colporteur.
He was always reticent as to his family
relations, saying ho "did not like to
speak of them," although ho admitted he
had a wife and child living, The body
was taken to Schenectady and deposited
in the vault temporarily, and finally
Mrs. Lyons and daughter, whose namo
is Giles, learned of the circumstances.
They finally viewed the remains, and
fully recognized the body as that of the
long lost husband aud father.
A DOWN-SOUTH "JUBILEE."
Our correspondent, "Mt. Hood," sends
us the following article from away
down South in North Carolina.
I presume you have heard of the "boy
evangelist," who created such a furore
at a negro campmeeting in Ai kansas. It
was a good joke, and stirred within me
the feeling of visiting such a meeting at
the first opportunity that presented
itself. I had just arrived at a certain
town in N. C, when I was informed that
a negro campmeeting was to be held at
about a mile from town. I was de
lighted at last my curiosity could be
satisfied. I sprang at the opportunity,
and caupht it just at that moment when
it was in its zenith. It had been ru
mored for some time, so I was informed,
that a campmeeting was to be held. Con
sequently on the opening day the roads
leading to the church were thronged
with the traditional rusty umbrellas and
ANCIENT CAIH'ET SACKS,
All traveling to one common point,
where all men are equal, xit the time of
our arrival the church and its vicinity
was crowded to its utmost by the weary
worshipers. It was decided to hold the
service outside beneath the trees. Two
sermons were preached, on,e at eleven
and one at three. Tho congregation was
a perfect study. It would require Hoff
man's rare and fantastic genius to de
scribe worthily the countenances of
some of those present. There sat an old
gray-headed fellow, with large rolling
eyes, and lips like a huge oyster-shell.
There sat a youthful Cloud, whosePcoat
had evidently been worn bv his fore
fathers, and cut and made after tho stvle
of that worn by Joseph. There, again, a
dusky maiden, dressed in purple and fine
linen; there a youth whoso mouth would
make a fortune on a minstrel stage.
There Avere young nigs and old nigs, big
aud small nigs; light darkies, and darkies
upon whoso countenanco charcoal would
leave a white mark. It had been under
stood that the evening meeting would
bo quite interesting, so we decided to re
main. AT EAltLY CANDLE LIGHT
The church was opened. The "church"
was a log hut, about twenty by fifteen
feel. At one end was a hugli fire-place;
at the other was a window sash minus
the glass. The pews were simply con
structed by a piece of plank, without any
back, and supported by four shakey legs.
The whole edifice was lighted by four
tallow candles. And now for the ser
mon: Tho preliminary remarks of the
preacher were in "rofionce" to a col
lection for the missionary fund. During
this brilliant discourse, two stray dogs,
unbelievers, began growling near his
stand, when suddenly stopping in tho
midst of his remarks, he changed his
tone and cried, "Git out ob dat." It
hod the desired effect. The collection
jjroved that the brethern ever in Africa
would be entitled to draw sixty-four
cents from the funds on hand. The
minister was delighted with his success.
He then commenced his sermon proper,
by saying that he would not
MAINTAIN THE PEOPLE
Long, but ho wished that they would
"insist" him as much as possible. He in
formed us that he never went to school a
day in his life, which remark was totally
uncalled for, as any ono present was
easily convinced of that. His sermon
was a lengthy description of St. Paul's
journey to "Demascaso." Once he was
interrupted by some members of the con
gregation moving about; stopping ab
ruutlv he told them to be quiet, saving
'it is annoyifying mo, body and soul."
When in his remarks he "waxed warm,"
a low, singing sound came up from
among the women. This was the fore
runner of the storm which was soon to
break. During a stirring ajipcal, there
was a shriek and a shout; and a darky
girl jumped from her seat, clapping her
hands and making more noise than a
volunteer fire department. 3y this ex
hibition, we kuew she was happy, for avo
had been informed that
THESE WERE THE SYMPTOMS.
The sister took her stand in the center of
the floor and stamped, shouted aud
cried until one of the pillars of the
chinch started the lively hymn, "Hab
you got a ticket to de promised land?''
This proved quite reviving. Soon an
other sister got the power. She bounced
up, and shouted and then struck the
floor. Here she rolled and yelled like a
wild tiger. About this time the fun bo
came general. Most all tho women were
happy, and those that were not, enjoyed
themselves by taking out the benches
and making room. One started from
one side of the house to the other, swing
ing her arms like a wind-mill. With one
blow she sent a candle Hying across tiie
house. This did not stop her. She con
tinued on until a bench seriously ob
jected, and then she landed all in a heap
on the other side. About this time the
evangelist was singing in
HIS LOUDEST VOICE I
"When do good ole Moses come out ob
de wilderness!" In this and all other
songs the congregation kept time with
their foot, and as the songs are sung
rather rapidly, the accompaniment cre
ates considerable stir. During the
noisiest part of the exercises we counted
a dozen women down on the hard, bare
fioor, rolling about. When they would
come in contact with each other, it
seemed to give them a fresh start, and
they would dive around and cause the
congregation to beat a hasty retreat.
One old woman, in particular, we
noticed, who could not keep quiet while
the brethren were singing "Dar will be
camp meetings in de promised land," was
keeping time to the music by jumping
up and down, swinging back and forth,
with the regularity and precision of a
pendulum. Imagine, if yoiivcan, twelve
or fifteen persons rolling around, en
gaged in
GRAND AND LOFTY TUMBLING,
tii -i . i - ...
aii snouting and singing at tlio same
time. The spectacle was something,
wiien once seen, can never be forgotten.
While one young woman was doing the
grand walk around to the tune of "Boll,
Jordan, ltoll " she accidentally struck
the only remaining candle and extin
guished it. We were then where Moses
was "when de light went out," and con
sequently held our breath for fear that
some floating, broken cloud would take
us for unconverted brethren, and submit
us to the embracing process. But
fortunately a light was brought, and we
relieved from our suspense and fear.
The floor presented a strange spectacle.
All were rolling about and enjoying
themselves iu an extraordinary pugilistic
manner. Wo left the scene of action at
eleven o'clock. At that time there was
no sign of abatement. The performance
was then at its highest. In our youthful
days we thought the negro characters de
lineated by Joe Murphy, Emerson, Casseli
and others of histrionic fame, to be per
fect, but Ave can now see wherein we
were mistaken. The wandering minstrel
would stand an excellent chanco of
starving to death hero. They certainly
would should they play in a community
in which a negro campmeeting was in
progress.
Kearney aud Xalloch.
Kcarnej' has passed off the stage,
at least for the present. He made
more trouble than u thousand like
him could cure, ho caused more in
jury to tho welfare of California than
the labor ot ten thousand skulking
villains like him could restore were
they to work for a thousand years.
And 3'ct he reigned gloriously for a
long time. Up to about the time of
the assault upon Kalloch by De
Young he held under his spell
thousand swarthy scoundrels,
loiiir as ho could hold the fore
ten
So
and
threaten to bring about a riot, to
make the streets run with blood, to
denounce any man who owned a Jit
tlc property and now ami then ap
peared in a clean shirt; he was a
terrible fellow. Capital lied before
him (for capital is tho big coward of
the earth) respectability was ready
to make excuses for its appearance;
tho press and politicians pandered to
him, and he was the craven bandit
that ho is a terror and a power.
Hut on one luckj' day some one
thought of the work-house in con
nection with him; a complaint was
made out, a trial had and Kearney
was sent there llis hair was crop
ped and he was clothed in the varie
gated costume which distinguishes
that institution. That killed Kear
ney. 13y the way we said attho
time that it would. Had he duly
been convicted of something pecu
liarly' wicked, something which
would have hanged him, ho would
have been attended daily by an anx
ious crowd until the day of execu
tion: his journey to the scaffold
would havo been a triumphal
procession, and for years to come the
cry of "Kearney" would have been a
Shibboleth which would have rallied
every loafer and every free lunch
fiend of San Francisco, as the blare of
a trumpet thrills the soul (if a veteran
soldier. But the cropped hair, th
ic
striped clothing and the prison or
dor. which made ivearney luolc ana
smell precisely like a common
vatrrant: even Kearney's followers
could not stand that. It brought to
their minds too vivid a realization of
the condition the' themselves might
bo in within twenty-lour hours, to
make the contemplation pleasant to
them, then too, there was the man
who was going to wade m blood, fire
out a whole race, and make wealth
aud respectability criminal posses
sions, suddenly brought down to
striped clothing and cropped hair
like a common thief. That experi
ence finished the brute and so vale to
him. JJutSan Francisco has a worse
man than ever Kearney was. It has
a man who has an education, who
has a brain to plan and courages
enough to act. but whose heart is as
foul as was Kearney's mouth. Wh'
does not San Francisco try a dose of
work house on him? It would De just
lovely. Kalloch in striped garments
and cropped hair would make a bet
ter picture than Kearney made, and
Justice, setting up on high, would
smile approval. The odor of the
prison wouid sweeten the atmos
phere around Kalloch and no eccen
tricity of prison dress would fitlyr
symbol tho distortion of Kalloch's
soul. . But the spectacle would be
splendid and the discipline most sal
ularj and it should be tried.
Experience teaches us that stock
entering into winter counters in good
condition cau be kept without diffi
culty, while an animal beginning
the winter in a poor condition' not
withstanding an abundance of food,
careful housing and the best atten
tion, vvill invariable be in poor order
the following spring. Particularly
is this case with common stock. Fat
stock consumes a less amount of food
than loan stock.
A Domestic Experiment.
Coi. Bob Ingersoll says he keeps a
pocket-book iu an open drawer and his
children go and help themselves to
money whenever they want it. "They
eat when they want to; they may sleep
all day if they choose, and sit up all
night if they desire. I don't try to co
erce them. I never punish, never scold.
They biry their own clothes and are mas
ters of themselves.'
A gentleman living on Marshall street,
who has a boy that is full as kitteny as
his father, read the article and pondered
deeply. He knew that Col. Ingersoll
was a success at raising children in the
way they should go, and he thought he
would try it. The boy had caused him
considerable annoyauce, and he made up
his mind that he had not treated the boy
right, so he called the boy in from tho
street; where ho was putting soft soap on
a lamp-post in order to see the lamp
lighter climb it, and said to him:
"My son, I have decided to adopt a
different course with you. Heretofore I
have been careful about giving you
mone-, and have wanted to know where
every cent went to. and my supervision
has, no doubt, been annoying to you.
Now I'm going to leave my pocket book
in the bureau drawer, with plenty of
money in it, and you are at liberty to
use all you want without asking me. I
want you to buy anything you desire to:
buy your own clothes, and feel as though
the money was yours, and that you had
not got to account for it. Just make your
self at home now and try and have a
good time."
The boy looked at tho old gentleman,
put his hand on his head, as though he
had "'got 'em sure," and went out to see
the lamplighter climb that soft soap.
The next day the stern parent went out
into the country shooting, and returned
ou the midnight train threo days later.
He opened the door with a latch key,
and a strange yellow dog grabbed him by
the elbow of his pants and shook him, ho
said, "like the agur."
The dog barked aud cliewed until tho
son came aown in nis nigiiu smrt ami
called him off. He told his father he
had bought that dog of a fireman for $11
and it was probably the best dog bar-
nrtilti fliof. liol lionn mnrlo f.liiu crnicnn
He said the fireman told him he could
find a man that wanted that kind of a
dog.
The parent took off his pants, what the
dog had not removed, and in the nail he
stumbled over a birch bark canoe the
boy bought of an Indian for $9, and an
army musket with an iron ramrod fell
down from the corner. The boy had
paid $6 for that. He had also bought
himself an overcoat with a sealskin col
lar and culls and a complete outfit of
calico shirts and silk stockings.
In his room the parent found the mar
ble top of a soda fountain, wheelbarrow
and a shelf filled with all kinds of
canned meat, preserves and crackers and
a barrel of apples. A wall tent and six
pairs of blankets were rolled up, ready
tor camping out, and a buckskin shirt
and a pair of corduroy pants lay on the
bed readv for pulling on. Six fish-poles
and a basketful of fish-lines were ready
for business, and an oyster can full of
grub-worms, for bait, were squirming
on the wash stand. The old gentleman
looked the lay-out over, looked at his
pocket-book in the bureau drawer, as
empty as a contribution-box, and re
marked :
"Young man, the times have been too
flush. Wo will now return to a specie
basis. When you want money, como to
me, and I will give you a nickel, and you
will tell me what you intend to buy with
it, or I'll warm you You hear me ?"
Springfield Republican.
A Sice, Light, Toast Lunch.
It often happens that after a late heavy
dinner, or when arriving homo late in
the evening, or when one is an invalid or
dyspeptic, and especially when a trouble
some tooth or other mouth ailment pro
vents proper mastication of harder food,
one wants a light, easily digested and
easily masticated dish of lunch. Well
cooked oat-meal, the grains nearly whole
aud not "all in a mush," is quite good
but is not always accessible, and is not
liked by all. Latterly we have found
the following very good, especially for a
iato supper or lunch, eaten only an hour
or two before retiring: Toast some
slices of bread pretty well,
scraping off any blackened, charred
portion; lay the slices on a plate,
preferably a soup-plate, and pour on
cold milk enough to wet it through, and
leave half an inch or so in depth of milk
in the plate. Good milk: a little extra
cream in it is all the better, and a very
trifle of salt improves it for our taste.
Put over the toast thus prepared an in
verted large earthen bowl, or tin basin
large enough to cover it, and set down
upou tho plate all round. Put this in a
warm, not very hot, stove oven, two,
three or more hours in advance. The
milk will cook and evanorate, and its
substance be condensad in the toast,
while the cover will keep the toast moist.
It is then very good, and eats well with
out butter, though a little may be used
if desired. American Agriculturist.
Gilhooly lives down on Galveston
avenue, not far from a milkman, xes-
terdav lie met the milkman, and takin
rr
him offto one side asked him seriously
"Wasn't there a fire in your barn early
dav? T hud ft great notion to rush
over to vour assistance?" "Why, there
wasn't no firo about tho barn, said the
milkman, his eyes sticking out liKe aoor
knobs; "what made you mm au:
"Nothing, except I saw yon pump two
buckets of water right quick and rush
into the stable wuu uiem "J
milk your cows.
Endeavor to be what you appear to bo.