MY PICTURE.
I stood at my western window,
Tlmnltfill that I couM stniid,
So Ions; had I been lrwirIotieI.
Held ilo.ui by allhctloii's hand.
1 drank In tlio elorlc? bstoro mo,
As onlr a thirsty soul can;
I feasted my eyes Uon beauty,
Suriiass.'ng endeavors of man.
The artist auprema bold tho tinlotte,
The canv.is was will and blffli,
Tim colors were perfectly blcndo
Yliu tliLMiio was tlio sunset sky.
Afar shone the bcantlful river,
Itcflcctlnj; tho rIow the skies,
A-ncar rosj the prldo of tho forest,
Aflutiie with autumnal dyes.
This picture Is mine. I whtsocrcd,
To liarii ami to bold for aye,
No price havo I paid for tho Master
Uestows what we never could buv.
Harrttl Newell Hien twickln Ifie Current.
Jim BOATMAN.
It was a moonlight night. Tho rivor,
dnrk unci sullen, moved in its rocky bed
like some gignnlio serpent half over
come by the lethargy of sleep.
Here nml there the moonbeams fell
spon tlio surface 01 tlio water, great
pots of silvery whiteness, amidst tlio
dark shadows cast by tho heavy foliago
&f tho cedar shrubbery which grew bo
tweon tho almost perpendicular rocks of
the high banks. '
Fifty feat abovo tho surfaco of tho
water they reared themselves, and at
ono point they jutted forward as if to
laluto each other, while tho rivor be
neath them deepened and narrowod.
At this point a bridge had onco been
thrown across a bridge which had bo
eomo a complete ruin, one timber alone
remaining to mark'the spot, ono long
nml narrow beam it could not havo
been more than six inches in width
still maintained its place, and in muto
language informed thu stranger that
nee thero had been connection be
tween Rocky Hill and the mountains
on tlio other side.
Upon the surface of the rivor thero
ivns a small rowboat, containing a slen
der, crouching form wrapped in a dark
cloak.
From tho top of tho bank upon oitlicr
side this rowboat would havo been in
visible, but it was there, making its
way up and down past tlio rocky butt
ress which upheld tho beam, alwavs
avoiding the moonlit spots upon the
river.
Tho sounds of carousal were usurp
ing tlio place of the quiet of the night,
the drunken jest and the courso laugh
ter broaking in upon the sentimental
notes of "Homo, Sweet Home" sung,
you would have averred, by some lone
ly youth who was far from tho scones
of his boyhood camo plainly to the
tars of this silent watcher upon the riv
or. who, it scorned, could not tear her
self nwny from thu sounds which came
from the saloon upon tlio river's bank.
Onco only did tho moonbeams fall
upon her fair, upturned face.
It was the face of a woman 'vho
should never have been in that wild,
lonoly spot, 1 stoning for tlio sound of
n voico tluit ha I grown to address her
with rolined words which were tho
nruolist of the cruel, waiting there up
on that lonely rivor, for slio knew not
what.
Muriel Wnrnor was tho daughter of
wealthy parents,
when very voting,
She had marriod,
a man whom she
had worshipped as the embodiment of
manly worth and tho perfection of
manly beauty. Frionds and rolalives
had crowded" about her with envious
congratulations, and for a time hor
life was perfect happiness
Hut a chango had come. Fred War
ner was not what ho had scomod. On
ly a few short wuoks of happiness, nnd
tho handsome husband plunged into
tho wildust' dissipation. Frionds re
mained to her as long as the money re
mained, and then they bogau to'hlnt
that perhaps Muriel was not altogether
blameless.
This was something which the spir
ited wife could not stand. Sho broko
with relatives and friends, nnd clung to
tho dissipatod man who was her hus
band. 1'i oin one city to another he had
dragged hor with him, and now ho had
.aosurtod her and sho had followed him.
His was the cultured voico. which
warbled of "llonn, Sweot Homo."
while his wifo was a ponniloss, half'
crazed creature, out ur.ou tho river.
And sho was penniless, for, regard
less of food or shelter, sho had paid
out her last font for tho use of the
boat which brought hor, unsoon,
nearer to htm.
A quick, hharp report broko in
on the mellow voico of tho sliiiror.
yet
up-
It was repoatcd again and again.
It was the report of n rovolvor.
Model could hear tho oxolted shouts,
tho henvy trampling of foot, the bang
ing of a door, and then tho weird cry,
"Murder!"
Half paralyzed, tho frlghtonod wo
man rested upon her oars just under
the beam which had onco bolonged to
tlio old bridge.
Tho sound of heavy feet, rapidly
approaching, came from tho bank
closo at hand, and thou n dark form
rushed out between hor and tho moon
lit sky above hor.
It was a man's liguro, and ho was at
tempting to cross tho river upon tho
narrow beam.
Exollod shouts and tho tramp of
hurried feel followed him to tlio river's
brink.
"Stop!" shop ted a voico. "I urrost
yon for muiiloi "
No reply caio from the escaping
figure, which f.ped nimbly along Its
Harrow way.
A sharp chorus of revolvers follow-
ed; shot after shot was lirod, and thou
tho dnrk liguru wavered, tho hands
grasped wildly at tho air, and then
there was n fall.
Tho water deluded Muriel with a
shower of drops as the body entered
tho water. Shouts and tho exultant re
'treating voices held her attention until
she felt something creeping Into the boat
behind her.
Khu turned nnd . uttered a faint
brick.
A man, nnd more than likely the
.murderer, had taken possession of her
(Utile nun.
(Jive mo (lie
4uu ileal voico.
ouri," aald n stern,
"Y":t a i (i not w i i i i i !i -ti " -.'i
said, snriiiking away froiii to i ilr.pinu:
liguro.
"I am not woun led. ' roltn-iied the
voic and then s h'lill the loitwa
rowed into thu deepest shadows and up
tlie stro.un.
Moment after moment crept bv.
Tho moon went down, darkness fell
entirely over tlio sluggish waves of tin
river, "an. I yet tlio strange pair were
s lent.
The high banks dsapp-arcd, the
stream grew narrower, anil at length
the stranger drew tho boat olo.su up to
thu shore.
"Madam," sa'd the figure, bending
close up to Muriu!, "tell mo what you
tli. nk about th s alia r."
"I think that you havo shot some
one," replied Muriel, awakening par
tial lv from the trail c liko feel ng
which had crept over her.
"You are rig'it. To night I becann
tlio murderer of Fred. Warner."
"Fred. Warner is my husband, and I
was on the river listening to h.s vo ce,"
she said in the same calm ton .
"You wll listen to Ins vole ! no more.
Tho woman that ho brought to Kooky
hill is my w fe."
And then Miriel knew tho name of
thu man who had rowjd hir boat that
night.
It was Kalph Rossogu'o, tin banker
and the millionaire, wIiomi homu and
happiness her husband had ruined.
Sho had never met him before, but
she had hoard often of his gouerosi y
and of his great wualth.
"God have merer to-night ;:pon four
of his miserable creatures," sho said
still calmly.
"Three," corrected Rossoguio, grim
ly. "Muriel Warner I know tlio entire
history of your life. I learned it while
1 was hunting your husband down. 1
ask no sympathy. 1 have done a delib
erate murder. I do not w.sli you to
conceal the niotlo of my escape. Fred.
Warner was your husband. Ho would
havo returned to you after a time. I
have made this impossible. You have
neither homo nor friends. I havo mono v,
the accursed stuff witli which I bought
my false wife, hi a short time I shall
be hung for this murder. 1 have no
relatives upon whom to bestow my I
wealth. It will all go to straigors.
Accept this packet, then; it is yours to
do witli as you think best, and 1 cannot
but bo thankful for tho chanco which
has thrown you in my way."
A packet dropped into Muriel Warn
er's lap as these words were spoken.
The boat rocked slightly as tho tall lig
uro sprang upon tlio shore, and then
shu was alone in the darkness upon the
river.
Alter th's sho wandered about the
world, a woman whose life and feel
ings seemed benumb. d forever. She
knew what had hnppinod at Uockyhill,
but she had no desire to return there
anil ga.o ujion the dead face of her
husband. She had no wisli to return
to the friends who had irrown cold
wlion misfortune conic upon her. She
knew that Itilph Roisognio bad made
her a wealth, woman, but sho full none
of the scruples which slui onco would
have felt ab nil aooipting his money.
She never spoke of that night in the
boat with any to whom slu camo in
contnet.
Sho never hoard whelhor Ralph R'S
soguio was captured or not. Sho nev.u
know what became of his miserable
wife.
Her past life seemed a half forgotten
droam, ami sli i was only dimly con
scious of Hie real ty of sinyth ng.
At thirty-live years of age Muriel
Warner was a beautiful and cultured
woman. Sho had visited nearly all the
countries of the Old World. Acquit nt
ances shu made, but never frionds. and
these often wonderud when in reply to
their inqulr.os sho would say:
"I never read a nowspapor. I uevei
write nor teen vo a letter.
Hut hor t mo of awakon'ng camo,
nnd tlio one to stir tlio dorm nit emo
tions of her woman's heart was a
stranger, and a man.
It was at the Bahama Island whoro
sho first met Norman Van Ness.
Ho was fortv years of age a Her
cules in the fullness of ids manhood,
and In seemed to be attracted, nay, to
love l.er from tlio very lirst.
Hor dep bhu eyes soon grew to
watoh for him, and boeauio soft an I
tender beneath tlio 1 glit in his dai
ones, ami with the growth ot tier new
love manv of the feelings of her outh
camu back to her.
Father and mother, long forgotten
became dear once more to ho an I
often she caught herself thinking.
"If he ever speaks, and if after 1
have told him all, we are ever mar
ried, I will get him to take me homo to
mv paronts "
lint ho did not speak. Weeks grow
Into months, and tlu longed-for love-
words never came. Muriel's heart
again began quivering with pain. She
knew not that its numbness had de
parted forever.
Sometimes she felt that she ought to
move on; to get away trout influences
which more- likely would prove sadden
ing to her, but sho could not at onco
bring herself to do this.
While she was debating tho subloct in
tier mimt tlio oris s came.
A storm hud been sweeping over the
Bahamas, a vessel was going to pieces
upon the rojf. Muriel was out upon
tho wavo-wiishod shore, her eyes br ght
mil li or ohooks rosy witli excitement.
Her golden brown hair had been loos
ened bv the driving wind, and she was
that rare but delicious creature, a
woman beautiful when shu Is mature.
Norman Van Ness was bv her side.
and Muriel uxprossod a wish to row
out near to tlio life-saving boats,
which were battling w th tho waves
and overladen with human beings
whom they had rescued In a half-
drowned state.
"Let mo bo your boatman," pleaded
Van Ness, and Muriel could not repress
her thought which wlnspjrod to her
of that long-forgotten night when her
husband's murderer had been hor boat
man." The strong man took his plaoo at the
ours (hit over tlio waturs they rowed
uiirothor. thu dreadful past rUuiir so
strong before the woman that she had
no thought of the man so near her.
"Murnd," said he, lit a low voice;
"Muriel. Muriel, 1 love you, but 1 have
no r-glit to nay tlio words to you.
Muriel, have ou never thought that 1
might bo Kalph KosaoguluP"
"Can it bo?" sho said, slowly. "1
iid not see your faco by davlght, you
know."
"Yes, it is I. a marriod man and a
murderer; but st 11 I lovo you, Mu
riel." "And f lo7o you." sho said In a touts
of dospa'r.
They wcro Hearing tho life-boats
now, and ono of ihu crew shouted:
"Van Ness." wo cannot go back just
ret. and here is a man and woman
who need lininediato attention, if thoy
are not already dead. Wo will put
them in your boat, and you can tako
thorn ashore."
Kcady hands laid the dripp'ng bodies
in the "bottom of the boat, and witli
Urong strokes and averted head Kalph
ttcsseguio pulled for tlio shore.
When thoy wcro Hearing land ho
glanced for tho first thus at his burden.
"My God, my wifo!" he cried.
"And Fred. Warner," said Muriel,
tvith a thrill of relief and horror.
It was true. Fred. Warner had not
died, and tho deed which had made
theso two wanderers upon tlio faco of
tho earth, had been a -farce, after all.
The las of tho guiltv pa r on earth
wcro numbered. Alnbcl Ke.s.eguio
never recovered consciousness. Fred.
Warner l.ved a few days, long enough
to ask tin) forgiveness of the two he
had wronged, and then expired.
Kalph Kesseguie and Mimel War
ner wcro married and returned to
Muriel's old home, where, in the sun
shine of happiness, tho dark days of
their lives were forgotten. Chicago
Mail.
Art in New York Saloons.
What with turning groggenes into
art galleries, confronting the customer
with mahogany and mirors at every
turn, and even abolishing thu bar itself
and compelling him to drink at a side
board, the drinker must begin to feel
compelled to maintain his dignity nnd
experience much d scomfort at the
thought of behaving improperly in tlio
presence of such elegant furniture.
Mahogany has become so common as
to bo vulgar, and piano-makers recog
nizing the fact, long since abandoned
the brighter shades in cases, and now
( put out only dark structures in this
wood. Hut the saloons are catching
this point, too, and at least ono down
town l.quor dealer has modeled his
business place accordingly. Instead of
brilliant mahogany the interior walls
are .sheath oil with subdued walnut. lu
other respects this saloon is unique. It
is very small, about twenty lect by
eighteen, but it is divided Into three
departments: I Jar proper, soda-water
and other temperance drinks, and
o gars. U.s!dos thesu there is a special
desk for tlio cash or, and a l.ttlo private
olllce. The bar proper is separated by
partitions from the other departments,
and a fat, gorgeously-arrayed cash boy
travels between it and the cashier for
tlio convenience of customers who are
disinclined to walk across tlio room.
There are stock and news tickers in
tlio corners, one or two comfortable
arin-chairs, a shelf full of directories,
and tlio jiolito attendants. Incandes
cent lamps, in clusters, illunio the
place. A particularly interest. ng feature
of tho furnishings is tlio cigar-case.
Thu glass panels, instead of being
fastened into nickel-plated brass ra Is,
aro inserted in pearl rails, which glist
en and glow with all the colors of the
prism. Hut tho most interest ng thing
of all about this little establishment Is
that it is on that aero of laud that is
tlio most valuable property in tlio coun
try, ami it is frequently asserted that
no sito in tho world is rated higher
the immediate neighborhood of tho
stock-exchange nlmg Wall from Hroad
streot to Broadway. Cor. Indianapolis
News.
Tho Principal Topic of 1886.
"In tho retrospect of the year just
closod tho most prominent topic ol
public thought which appuars is the La
bor question," says The New York
World. "Numerous strikes, largo and
small, have occurred. Several of tliom
were of great importance. Tho whole,
business of tho country felt tho effect
of the railroad strike in the Southwest,
and tlio wholesale trade of St. Lou s
was in largo part suspended for weeks.
inn yast packing nouses of Chicago
wore twice closed, and in the later in
stance the mil tary were called upon to
preserve order. " The people of this
city and of Hrooklyn were seriously in
commoded more "than onco bv "tie
ups" of the streot railways. 'Olio list
of theso interruptions in tho rogular
course of things in ght bo extended in
delinitclv. "All this has involved a great loss
both to capital and in wnos, but it is
not without its compensating features.
The employed havo in consequence, as
a class, a clearer insight of the fact
that thero aro influences which regulate
earnings which employers cannot alter,
and that it is futile to ask more than
a business wdl justify. Tho employers
on the other hand have a better under
standing of the importance of paying
fair prices and of oxtonding considerate
treatment generally to their mon. it
appears that these descriptions of wis
dom cannot be acquired without boing
paid roundly for. There has been an
important acnulsit'on of this character,
nnd matters rest on a bettor basis than
thoy did a year ago. It lias bjon pret
ty woll established that nelthor injustice
nor violence, is a wise quality. "
Not it Jlonoply.
Hub, what does your father do?" In
quired a farmer of a lad who had
"caught a bob on his sleigh.
"On tho railroad," was the reply.
"Then you git off or I'll lay the'whlp
on you! uaiiromis aro uianiecl mono
polies!" nut my lather's a urakeiunn. nml
he's just had his pay reduced ten nor
cent."
Oh, wall, that alters thu wise, nnd
you may stick, l vo just lost n bag ol
oats oil the sleigh, and 1 know how to
sympathize witli him." Detroit Fr4
Itcst.
Tito Truth, tho Whole Truth, Ktc.
A man may sit in your olllco nil day
nnd not no a
listen while
bore, provided lie will
you talk. New Jlavtn
b'ewt.
CULTURE OF THE TOES.
How Younjr People Aro Specially T.&
ucntcd In the Orncci of Dnnclns;.
While all other sorts of education aro
coing on, the culture of the toes of tho
rising generation is also receiving in
struction. Thero aro in this city quite
a number of private Instructors in
dancing, and two regularly established
"academies."
"Dancing Is coming into favor
again," said Mrs. E. V. Thomas, to a
reporter, "especially since skating
rinks have gono out. At what age
may children begin taking lessons? 1
should say at 5 years. I havo sonic 4
years old, but thoy are exceptions; fi is
early enough. Children aro very apt
scholars. I class thorn as children up
to 15 above that they nro ladies and
gentlemen. I start "them first with
hand and feet positions, a very neces
sary thing, A great ninny children,
like grown persons, don't know how to
use these members. Instruction of this
kind makes them easy and graceful. It
is also a gymnastic training that im
proves the r health. Most of my schol
ars take but one lesson in a week, and
any ordinarily bright child can bo
taught to waltz in two months. Bifore
they get to tlio waltz they are, of course,
taught plain polkas, with revorsc,
Ilighl and schotlischc, and the Danish
polka, which is nox't to tlio waltz as a
dillicult movement. Its movement is
much like that '.ot the waltz. One of
my specialties is tlio cadet schottischo.
It is on the military order. They aro
at once interested in it, and learn it
rapidly. I havo a groat many more
girls than boys. Boys do not take to
dancing, preferring skating and more
nctivo exorcise. Besides tins, small
boys are timid about girls. Thoy grow
out of it as they get older.
"Dancing is rapidly acquired. Jt is
astonishing how much a child will learn
in thrco or four weeks. Grown people
may learn as quickly, but aro not so
graceful; it is moro of an effort for
them. Tho children especially liko tho
sailor's hornpipe and Highland fling.
Theso are more dillicult than regular ;
dancing, and aro given as specialties.
The lessons occupy from three-quarters
of an hour to an hour of active cxerc'so,
according to tlio strength and endur
ance of the child. Quito a number of
children aro sent by their parents to
take lessons in the way of medical
treatment. It is recommondod to little
sufferers from nervous diseases. Tho
treatment is certainly pleasant, and
thoy aro greatly benefitted if they aro
given smooth "and not hopping move
ments. All the children dance in slip
pers. I have them in the beginning
dance to piano music, which is plainer
and moro readily caught by the inex
perienced car. Of course, when they
get older, tho violin is the music for
the dance. At my socials I have the
piano, violin and Iluto. J hero certainly
is beginning to be a greater interest
taken by parents in having their chil
dren taught dancing than before, for
four or live years. They begin to sen
that it is an accomplishment that iloes
not have, if properly conducted, the
dangers and associations that attend
some other amusements." Inilianaio-
lis Journal.
Essentials of a Good Fighter.
In answer to tho question, "What
nrc the essentials of a thoroughly good
fighter?" Sullivan said.
"Pluck, skill, endurance, nnd a good
head on his shoulders. I tell you sir a
man fights witli his head almost as
much as he does w th his fist. He must
know where to send his blows so they
may uo tlio most good, lie must ccon
omizu his strength and not scoro n hit
just for the sake of scoring it"
"What portion of your antagonist's
body do vou aim at when von aro in tho
r nir?".
"I endeavor," said Sullivan, "to hi
my man above the heat, or under tho
chin, or behind the ear. A man wears
out pretty soon if one can keep ham
mer ng away in the region of tho heart;
a blow under the chin or behind the
ear w ll knook out a man quicker than
a hundred blows on the oheek or any
olher portion of tho face. Now, tho
Mar no has a scar on his left cheek
which he received in his fight with
Dempsov. and which ho wdl carry to
his grave. He told mo that Dempsey
kept hammering away at that spot.
If Dempsey wcro a long-headed lighter
ho would not have wasted his time and
strength in got ting in there. That fact
alone proves to me that he is deficient
in goncralship."
"You can toll pretty well whon your
man is giv ng in?"
"Certainly I can," sa'd tho pugilist.
"I watch his ocs. and I know at onco
when tho punishment is beginning to
tell on him. And, when I talk to a man
before 1 stand up before him at all. I
can make up my mind whether he is a
lighter or not. There is more intelli
gence in this business than outsiders
give us credit for." Sacramento Gal.)
lice.
Not Prepared to Say.
An old fellow with a plush cap
drawn down over his oars and a big
comforter round Ins neck sat in a Grand
Kiver avenue car tho other day and
spit his tobacco juice right and loft un
til the man behind observed:
"Maybe you nro getting ready to
swear off on the Now Year?"
"On what? '
"On chew ng tobacco."
"Wal, 1 in not prepared to say," re
plied the old man as he spit right and
left with great viiror. "but mavbo I'll
chango to some other brand!" Detroit
Fret I'ress.
Hut Few Succeed.
An old merchant said years ago that
not more than one per cent, of tlie best
class of inoroliants succeed without
failing hi Philadelphia. Not more than
two pur cunt, of the merchants of New
York ultlmatjly retire on an Independ
ence after having submitted to the usu
al ordeal of failure, nftd not more than
three out of every hundred imtrohunts
In Boston acquire an iudepuuduee. In
Ciuoinnati. out of 400 business men lu
business twenty years ago, live are now
doing businojs. y Uojdi L'hr incle.
Princes Out of Work.
Prince Alexander's career is tho
more remarkable because of late years,
while thrones have been very frequent
ly well lilled, the cadets of tho royal
houses have not distinguished them
selves in proportion to their opportu
nities. Charles of.'llohcnzollern has as
yet done best. The Arehduko Maximi
lian and Prince Amadeo both failed,
and the Prussian "Ked Princo" was
known only as a scvero though compe
tent disciplinarian. Tho Archduke
Albrccht showed himself a good gen
eral at Custozza, or at all ovonts ho
won; and tlie French believe the Due d'
Auiualo to hi a first-rate officer but
there the list seems to end. Tho
princes are very numerous, but they
aro undistinguished. Thero i3 reluc
tance, except perhaps in Russia, to em
ploy them, 'for the k ngs havo ceased to
bo afraid of their kinsfolk; but whother
from want of will or want of power,
they do not come to the front, even as
much as they did when "Turennc,"
who, as son of the Due de Bouillon,
was a child of France, found his ablest
opponent in Eusjeno of Savoy, seini
princo of throe nationalities. Thoy
seem for tho moment to be without
ambition. There was some dilliculty
in lilling the throne of Greece and it is
said by men who havo a special inter
est in making tlio search successful,
that there is not a prince in
Europe, outside thu five families who
aro barred by treaty, who is bold
enough, or adventurous enough, or
original enough, to accept the Bulgar
ian throne. Yet the next princo of
Bulgaria, if he is competent, will bo
gencaralissinio of the Balkan federa
tion, and perhaps, in.thc end, emperor
of Constantinople, "the place which
King Leopold of Belgium regretted all
his that he had thrown away. Those
aro largo pr'zes for young men whoso
only natural business, in their own eyes
at all events, is ruling, and who, when
without sucli business, have to lead
lives which would be very monotonous
and distasteful. Indeed, they are bor
ed to death, and marry all kinds of
piquant women not of their own class
list to escape suffocation from thoir
own rank.
One would have thought there
would bo endless intrigues with this
court and that to secure a nomination
to Bulgaria, but tho princes lack even
the audacity of tlie king of Koman'a,
and ask for "guarantees," and "assur
ances," and civil lists, and all manner
if proppings wli'ch just now thoy can
not have, but with which, in a year or
two, they might bo well able to d s
pence. We suppose that, like every
body else nowadays thoy disbelieve
in "themselves, doubt if they can be
nccossary anywhere, and want to be
sure before-hand of physical comfort;
but there must bo a sad lack among
them of the spirit which founds dynas
ties. Nobody is asking for a states
manpriucc, or anything else very won
derful. The thing wanted is a young
man with somo head, some m litary
training, and the nerve to tlrnk that
with a throne before him somo risk of
life for a few years is uol to be consid
ered a final obstacle. It is run every
day by young soldiers and old states
m?n, and kingi can not bo d sgraced
except by theinelves. Wis know noth
ing more curious, or in its way more
disheartening, in the modern h'story of
Europe than that princes should enjoy
a monopoly of this particular section
of tlio world's work, and that, never
theless, thero is no one among them
with audacity enough to accept the
throne of Bulgaria unconditionally.
Five 3 cars of it might be made worth
fifty years of ordinary princely life,
choked and tramiuolcd as it is with
etiquettes; and if tlie prince failed, he
could fall lighting, and say, with
Charles Albart, after No vara: "At least
I have not died a3 kings die." Ono
thing is quite certain: if this kind of
want of spirit lasts, tho princes will
not long retain their monopoly of reign
ing. Tlio people can make princes if
thoy want them, and eastern Europe
may ultimately bo distributed among
men whoso newness and success will
teach mankind that, after all, there is
not much in pedigree. K ng Milan
does not do much to dissipate that old
illusion; but ono successful prince
sprung from the people would cure all
applicant nations of wandering about
Europe to dispose of a throne. Lon
don ijjtcctator.
" Igratory Iluiiiaus.
It has remained for tho American
civilization of tho nineteenth contury
to develop the genius tramp, that mi
gratory human whoso llight to tho
South car. bo gambled on to a cortain
ty as a forerunner of cold weathor.
When winter puts on his ulster and
begins to do a song and dance on tho
heart of the great lakos, tlio tramp
takes out a Crosstie & Great Southern
railroad picket (unlimited) catches on
to a brake-beam sleeping berth, nnd
turns Ins faco toward tho Gulf of Mexi
co, lie liumpetu lumsoii liko a drome
dary, and lingoroth not by the road
s do" to toy with tlio rural wood-pile,
but hastens on with a swiftness that
causes a note in bank to grow exceed
ingly weary.
1 hat is the only time that a tramp
does any thing swiftly, except to got
over a fence to avoid the yard dog.
But whon old winter sticks an icicle
down the collar of tho summer tramp
ho has a sudden yearning to go down
and rest under "the orango trees of
Florida and ho gooth.
Tramps genorallv follow tho lines of
railroads as the most direct, running
through the most thickly populated
districts, and then as nffordinr an
opportunity for an occasional lift.
They have long sinco learned how
chilled steel is the heart of a freight
conductor, and what eloquence of
expostulation nw boot-toe possesses,
and thoir sensitive, shrinking natures
roftdl at thoughts of the brutal refusal
that will meet an humble petition, nnd
sneak into a box-car.
It Is surprising to note tho numbor
of nblo-bodied mon who tramp great,
stout, hulking fellows, who aro physi
cally able of doing a hard day's work
without any Inconvenience. And the
hardihood they show In stealing a rldo
on a brake-beam amid the st fling dust
that U whirled up under thu cars
should stand them in good need ii
shown in an earnest search for work.
In Winchester county, New York,
recently a resolution was introduced in
the board of supervisors providing for
tho addition of a wing to tho alms
house wli.ch should bo especially pro
vided for tramps. The apartments
are so arranged that thov can bo flopd
cd to the depth of s x feet. A tramp
is put in, provided with a bucket, and
tho water turned on. Ho has to bail or
bo drowned. And just about tho time
ho pours out the first bucketful the
hole in the wall freezes solid and ho
has to kick it out. Tho scheme is al
most as good as a rock pile or a saw
and cord of wood to euro tramps of
a disposition to ttop nnd rest their
weary limbs. Nashvlle (Tenn.) Union.
Manuscripts and Copyists.
Tho writers of manuscripts among
the Hebrews were savants, commenta
tors on the holy writ, rabbis endowo.1
with a special habitation; among the
Greeks and Romans, slaves, who were
to their masters what a woll-lilled book
case is to a wooden spoon; Calvisius
Sabinus, mentioned by Seneca, having
paid the exorbitant sum of $100,000
sesterces (about $55,0(10) for cloven
slaves, each one of whom could recite a
Greek poem, a faculty that would not
have enabled them to hold a caudle to
Joseph Scaligcr, who had learned by
heart the "Iliad" and "Odyssey" in
twenty -one clays, or to Christian Chctn
nitus, who knew tho bible so well that
ho could tell tlie chapter and verse of
any quotation that might, bo made from
it. Besides slaves, there wore in Rome,
also, professional copyists who were
freed men, and others foreigners, theso
mostly Greeks, who, though they wcro
the Gascons of antiquity for thoir fino
talking, could lay claim to the credit of
having created tho art of illuminating
manuscripts. Tho great edict of Dio
cletian on tho "max mum" tabulated
the price paid to copyists, but the great
ed.ct of Diocletian, as it comes to u,
has "a good measure, pressed down
and running over," of information that
is not wanted, and would provoke a
saint in search of knowledge. It only
tells that the scribe's work was valued
by the hundred lines. As it needed at
tention to detail, and was one to put
one's heart into, there wcro women
copyists. Grutcr has been to the pains
of publishing a Latin inscription to tell
it, and the Hebdomads of Varro, an il
lustrated b ography that is at tlie point
of the pen of everyone who writes of
manuscripts, was the workota woman,
Lain, who had come from Asia Minor.
In tho middle ages the copyist did his
work as penance, and Thcdone liked to
tell tho monks of his abbey that a friar
had gone to heaven for hav ng copied a
volume containing one letter more than
tho nuniber'of his s i;s. Antiquarians
are in accord on the point that the old
est manuscript extant is not older than
the third century, according to Mont
faucon. Aldus (Jell us had seen a manu
script of tlio 'VEno d," and Qiiintilian
tells of manuscripts that ho had seen of
Cicero and Cato and Censor, and Ven
ioo claims that it possesses the original
manuscript of the gospel of St. Mark,
and the Br fish museum lias a (J reek
copy of the evangel'sts that is attributed
to St. Thecla, ono of St. Paul's v rgin
converts: but tho weight of evidence is
rather in favor of Father Hardonin's
absurdity, that our so-called classics,
with throe exceptions, are tlio works of
monks of tho thirteenth century. The
Art Amateur.
The New Drinking Devico.
"What is that small book entitled
'Tanglewood Talcs,' by Hawthorn",
about, I sec sticking out of your pock
et there? ' inquired Sniithcrkins of his
alter ego, Boodleby.
"Nothing, only a litllo trcal-se,
showing the effect of liquor on tlio hu
man system. Consume some if its con
to'its," answered B., and simultaneous
ly ho touched a spring in the false bot
tom of tho bogus volume anil thero
popped forth a suspicious looking flask.
"'That's lirst rate brandy," remark
ed S., on taking a swig; "but thero
ought to bo a trifling change in thu
name of thu work."
"What to. cliummie?"
" 'Tanglofoot Tales.' " Texas Sil
ings. A Short Conversation.
"Ah! Mr. Scribelerous, how aro you?
I bought your last book, and have been
reading it. I can't say I like it as much
as some of your others. I s'poso you'ro
hero, at this reception, picking up
character."
Scribelerous: Ah! is that 3'ou. Hut
terine? By tho bye, that last lot of eggs
you sold my boarding-house mistress
were moro than half bad. I suppose
you're
Life.
here
drumming
up custom.
Very Natural.
Excited Depositor with heavy check,
stands astonished to sco it promptly
paid. What's tho matter? says tho
paying teller.
Excited Depositor? Oh! nothing!
Hem! 1 thought you'd broko. If
you've got the money, it's all right,
but if you haven't got it, I want it
right away. Life.
Was She a Boston Girl?
"Did youonjoy yourself whilo away.
Amy?" asked tho high school girl.
"No, Ididu't.Mildred," replied Amy;
"my aunt lives hi such a dull ouo-horso
town."
"You moan 'single quadruped muni
cipality,' dear; 'not one-horse town.' "
rittsburg-Chronical.
A Complete Stock.
Old lndv (to clerk): Have you gentle
men's glovos?
Clerk (glauclnir nt tho old lndy'a
hnuds): Yes, mn'nui but I think we
have ladies' glovos largo enough to fit
you. Life.
Not That Kind.
Got that sitting in a draught, oh?"
said old Drakes. "Well, keep away
from drauchU. I nut myself on to one
a month ngo, nnd it cost mo $15,000."
hxje.