SO LONG.
"Bat a week is so longl" he said,
With a toes ol his curly head.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven
Seven whole days! Why, in six, you
know
(You said it yourself you told me so),
The great God up in heaven
Made all the earth and the seas and skies,
The trees and the birds and the bntterflies.
How can I wait for my seeds to growl"
" But a month Is so longF he said,
With a droop of his boyish head.
"Hear me count one, two, three, four
Four whole weeks and three days more;
Thirty-one days, and each will creep
As the shadows crawl over yonder steep;
Thirty-one nights, and I shall lie
Watching the stars climb up the sky.
How can I wait till a month is o'er P
" But a year is so long!'' he said,
Uplifting his bright young head.
M All the seasons must come and go
Over the hills with footsteps slow
Autumn and winter, summer and spring;
Oh, for a bridge of gold to fling
Over the chasm deep and wide,
That I might cross to the other side,
Where she is waiting my love, my brideP
" Ten years may be long," he said,
Slow raising his stately head,
" But there's much to win, there is much to
lose,
A man must labor, a man must choose,
And he must be strong to wait!
The years may be long, but who would
wear
The crown of honor must do and dare.
No time has he to toy with fate
Who would climb to manhood's high es
tate." "Ah! life is not long," he said,
Bowing his grand white head.
" One, two, three, four, five, six, seven
Seventy years! As swift their flight
As swallows cleaving the morning lighti
Or golden gleams at even.
Life is short as a summer night
How long, oh, God, is eternity l"
CONSTANT and true.
''What an industrious little thing you
are, Thalia! I, for one, fear that if
mamma relied for her three quarts of ber
ries upon me she would have to do with
out." Bo saying handsome Ida Minturn leans
her head, upon her white hand while she
watches languidly her cousin's busy
movements.
It is a sweet, arch face that Thalia lifts
to her as she smilingly answers: "Tired
already? Ida, I do believe you were born
to be a drone in the hive. Everything
seems to weary you except going to par
ties and "
. "flirting, I suppose you would finish
with. Well, you are pot far wrong; and,
by the bye, Thalia, I have found a new
and delightful subject upon which to try
my powers of fascination. Pa should
have thought twice before he engaged
euch a handsome overseer. To be sure,
he is rather cold and distant ; but you'll
see yet how expressive I can make his
dark eyes look."
: A delicate pink rushes to the younger
girl's fair face as she springs to her feet,
almost dropping her basket of berries.
"Ida Minturn, I am ashamed of you!
Indeed, I was going to finish my sentence
in no such way. I detest the very word
flirtation, and 1 do not believe Mr. Holmes
would stoop to such a thing."
"Thalia, how seriously you do take
things If you could only sec how
dramatic you look gory, outstretched
hand and all ! But here comes Mr. Holmes
himself. I believe I will tell him of your
enthusiastic defense. I doubt not but it
would amuse him."
"Oh, Ida, please don't!"
And Thalia's cheeks grow to the deep
est rose as she pkads.
But there is no need for fear, as, with
merely a grave, courteous lift of his
6traw hat, Mr. Holmes passes on to
where, in a distant part of the field, some
men are engaged at their work.
The golden summer months flit gently
by and it is not long before it is plainly
evident to all eyes but Mrs. 3Iinturn's
how affairs are tending between the
handsome young overseer of the farm
and the gentle young girt who for the
past three years has made her home with
her auDt.
"I think he's perfectly splendid!" Ida
says candidly, as with many blushes
Thalia confesses the fact of her engage
ment. "But mamma will never con
sent, and I myself think you're very
foolish, Thalia. Love is all well enough,"
but I for one have too much ambition to
throw myself away on a poor young man.
I look for a coronet at the very least,
and you, with your pretty face, might
certainly do better."
"Better! Ah, no!" And Thalia's
face is more than pretty beautiful as
she speaks. "My Harry is noble and
good. What could be better than that?
And if he is poor, I am too, but I count
myself rich in his love !"
Ida is right in prognosticating her
mother's disapproval.
" Engaged ! And to a man not worth
a penny, and of whose family one knows
nothing about! Thalia, I am shocked.
I have seen that you were very friendly,
but I had no idea of this, for we have all
treated Mr. Holmes with more consider
ation than his position calls for. And
what will your uncle say? Just what I
do that the affair must be stopped at
ones. I am your guardian, Thalia, and
until you are of age you can contract no
marriage without my consent. You
know that, and I now say that this en
gagement must be broken."
And all Thalia's tears and pleadings
are of no avail. Mrs. Minturn is firm.
In two weeks' time they will go to Lon
don, and she decides in her own mind
that she shall then see that her niece is
fashionable life from which as yet her
tender years have kept her.
It is a cruel blow to Harry Holmes,
for, relying upon his employer's evident
friendliness, he has suffered himself to
build high hopes. .
"Three years! Oh, Thalia, your love
will never survive such a test!"
" Have no fear, Harry," Thalia an
swers, resolutely, "for neither time,
place 'nor surroundings can alter my
heart, and when your time of probation
is over, and I am my own mistress, you
have only to come and demand your own
for I shall be yours then as now."
In the belt that clasps her slight waist
nestles a cluster of daisies. Stooping,
Harry disentangles them irom their fas
tenings. " I will keep them, Thalia, as a remem
brance of your words. And now I have
something to tell you. Since your uncle
told me the other day, that," after thS
week, my services would be no longer
needed, I have received a communica
tion from Ireland, which has decided me
to go there at once. It is a letter from
an uncle of whose existence until now I
have been ignorant. But read it for
yourself.
This is what Thalia reads:
"My Dear Nephew: I have only just
learned, after long inquiry, that my sister
left a son, and that he and you are one and
the same. This letter will undoubtedly prove
a surprise to you, as, from my sister's solemn
vow, made to me as she left her home, I
know that you never can have heard my
name. Let me explain: At an early age
your mother and myself were left orphans.
Time went by, and your mother met and be
came attached to one whom beyond all others
I disliked, and for just cause.
"They were engaged and married, in de
spite of my vehement protestations. I re
fused to sanction the marriage or be present
at the ceremony. Margaret had to the full
the impetuous character of our family. On
the eve of her departure for her future home
she came to me and said : ' Stephen, hence
forth do not ever expect to hear aught of
me or mine. You have chosen to wound me
in the tenderest feelings of my nature, and to
insult him who is my husband. I shall never
forget you. Never again to my dying day
shall your name, or any allusion to you, pass
my lips. I sever the connection between us.
Should I have children, they shall enow up in
ignorance of any relatives save those upon
their father's side. I have pledged my hus
band to a like vow, and it shall be kept.'
Before I could recover from the surprise her
implacable words caused she had gone. That
wa3 the last time I ever saw her.
"Now, my nephew, your mother's vow was
wrong, and I have no doubt that ere she died
she would have gladly recalled it. I am old
and alone in the world and m sad need. You
are young and strong and to you I turn. I
implore you, as the last of my family, the
only one living upon whom I have any claim,
to come- to my succor if it be possible for you
to do so. Your uncle,
"Stephen Hartley."
"Mr. Henry Holmes."
"I am glad you are going, Harry,"
Thalia said, as she finished reading.
"Poor old man, all alone in the world
and needing aid his is a sad lot."
"I knew you would feel so, my dar
ling," Harry answers; and then, the letter
forgotten, they talk as lovers delight to
do, until the moments, flying by, bring
at last the dreaded time of parting.
"Who is the drone now, ThaliaUivers,
I should like to be informed?'' exclaims
Ida one evening coming into her cousin's
room fully arrayed in an exquisite ball
costume. "Jt is almost time to be going,
and here you sit with that everlasting
picture in your hand! Thalia! Thalia!
haven't vou forgotten that nonsense
yet?"
No, Thalia has not forgotten, although
the last three years have been a bewilder
ing time to the girl's shrinking, retiring
nature. She is growing more accustomed
to the thousand demands and forms of
society, but they weary her infinitely.
Not one word since their parting has
she heard from her lover; but, as she
had truly told him, "neither time nor
place can change her heart," and deep
down in its pure recesses is still enshrined
one handsome, dark face, with grave
brow and speaking eyes.
"What do you think Renie Andrews
told me this morning?" Ida says, a month
later.
"I'm sure I do not know," Thalia re
plies, looking up from the book she is
reading.
"Well, what would you say if my cor
oneted destiny were even now on his way
to England? Renie tells me that her
cousin from Ireland is to arrive in time
for her fete, and that with him is to
come a veritable Croesus and heir to a
Srospective title. Renie says that he is
andsome, too, for she has seen his pic
ture. I tell you what, Thalia, I feel it
in my bones as nurse used to say that
this young stranger will not return to
his ancestral acie3 as unencumbered as
he comes. Some English girl will cer
tainly captivate him ; and why should it
not be jour humble servant?"
By the time her cousin finishes, Tha
lia's face is full of the amusement she
cannot repress ; but Ida is too much en
grossed with her pleasant fancies to
notice or be offended. That same after
noon the postman brings a letter to Thalia,
addressed in bold, manly characters. She
has never seen Harry's writing, and' yet
her fingers tremble, and her soft cheek
flushes, as she opens the envelope ; for
something tells her whose hand penned
her name. Inside are only a few lines :
"Darling Thalia (if I may still call you
so) This day in which I write brings you
your twenty-first birthday, and the end of the
period of your probation. If you remember
and still adhere to the words you said as we
nttiwl oAvtsI y-h rriA a rlncrT'xt rf flAwnro lib e
those I took from you as a remembrance, and
which I have worn ever since close to the
heart that beats now as fervently for you,
and you only, as it did tnen, tnr je years ago.
Harry."
An address follows. The next mail
bears with it Thalia's answer. What it
is the reader may surmise.
The weeks glide by, and at length, to
Ida's delight, the day of the looked-for-
ward-to garden fete dawns. Ida looks
regally handsome. Thalia's quaint sim
plicity of dress suits the girlish style well
The afternoon is waning, and as yet no
distinguished stranger has made his appearance.
It is warm, and, a little tired by a game
of lawn-tennis, Thalia strolls off to a rus
tic seat. .Throwing aside her hat,she leans
her head upon her hand, and for awhile
lose3 herself in a happy day-dream. Sud
denly a step approaches, and a well-remembered
voice speaks her name.
With startled eves. Thalia springs to
her feet to find herself drawn to a warm
ly-beating heart.
Do you know me, Thalia?"
Yes," she whispered: "it is my
lOVer COme back tO me."
He laughs a iovous laugh.
" My constant darling!" he murmured.
I A J .... . 1 1 .
auu you sua are reaay ana wining 10 ,
leave you luxurious home and become a;
pOOr man's Wife?" I I
" We will not be poor. Harry, for we :
shall be rich in love." I
A look of almost adoring affection fills
the young man's earnest eyes as thev
rest upon the sweet, downcast face.
"1 have something to tell yon, little A"IV-jT " ""'. v"usco -""S
f bflaoT,a .ti,tDniii.r .0, rlpand and bring down great masses os
went to Ireland expecting to find a ' the uel in oi? lumP3' Jh exPf.rf
relative, old, poor and needy; I found fnts are said to have been hl2hIv satis
an uncle, titled, and the sole representa-1 factory.
tive of a rich and powerful family. His . The reign of Charles II. of England
letter had been worded thus to try me. as a great era in science. Sir Isaac
He was in need, he sa'd, of affection, j Newton discovered the wondrous law
I found him waiting and longing to ex- that holds the suu and planets in their
tend to me the father's love I had never orbits; Halley commenced his learned in
known, and I stand here to-day as his 1 vestigation of tides, comets, and the
heir, waiting to claim the wife who ! earth's magnetism; Boyle improved the
loved me when poor and obscure, and ' air pump and studied by its aid the prop-
who, I trust, will care for me just as-
much in my changed circumstances." ;
You are a lucky little thins !" Ida
says, when the truth is made known
to her, " and I think your case proves
that after all it does pay to be constant
and true. I
And much to her WOrdlv mother's '
chagrin a year later, instead of waiting
for the Often-talked of coronet. Ida ffives
her handsome self, indifference and i
listlessness left behind, to a poor young I
bank clerk whose only claim to consider- j
ation is an honest, loving heart.
Killed His Child.
That there may be a world of pathos
in the apparently prosaic life of a police- J It is said that an electric hand lamp
man is shown by the following incident, j has been invented, the illuminating prin
related in the Chicago Herald: ciple of which is generated by some sim-
"Did you ever shoot anv one?" The
speaker was a visitor at the armory, and .
the person addressed was a patrolman
who looked up hurriedly and walked .
away without an answer. "You see," i
said another officer, in explanation, "he
had an experience once that he does not j
like to think or talk about. He used to
walk in the Twelfth street district When it
was called the terror district, and when !
they had the murder bell there. When- j
ever mere was a shooting or Jailing in
L i. XT 1 II '
nuau pi.iuvu tuc uut vvaa iuug, du aa iu
notify all patrolmen that a crime had
been committed, and make them more '
vigilant, if possible, in their search for I
desperate characters. One dark, rainy j
night this officer obtained permission
from the roundsman to step over to his
home, a few blocks away, to get his rub
ber coat, and while he was in the house
he looked into the room where his chil
dren were sleeping. Wishing to have
one revolver outside of his coat he took
off his belt and laid the weapon on a bu
reau. Just as he was about to strap it
on he noticed that the hammer was down,
and some way in trying to put it at half
cock the thing was discharged. A little
girl iumDed un from the bed with a red
blotch upon her forehead, and crying,
"UH. paDal" fell flat on her face. At i
that instant the murder bell rung, its I
tones coming into the little house, deep,
sonorous and horrifying. This officer j
thought it was lor him. hnt it was not. i
of course. There had been a shooting i ax some points, me very water in tne court cryer A royal infant.- ZJto
somewhere else, and the bell was ringing ' moat still sleeps in venerable stagnation. ,
for a tough and not for the heart-broken
policeman. Well, that thing pretty near j
drove him crazy. The little girl never
spoke again, and she died inside
of a week. Tne coroner exoner
ated the father, but .he never exon
erated himself. A few weeks after
this he begged to be transferred from
the terror district, away from the echo
of the murder bell, and that's why he's
up here. Ho has told me that he
wouldn't live or walk a beat within sound
of that bell if he knew he would be made
general superintendent at the end of the
month."
Lost Hirers.
One of the most singular features of i
the Territory of Idaho is the occurrence
of dark, rocky chasms, into which creeks ;
and large streams suddenly disappear and
are never more seen. The fissures are
old lava channels produced by the out-:
side of the mass cooling and forming a :
tube, which, when the hery stream was
exhausted, has been left empty, whilst
the roof of the lava duct, having at
some point fallen in, presents there the
opening into which the river plunges and
is lost. At one place along the bnake.
one of these rivers aDDears !rushinsr from
a cleft high up in basaltic walls where ! us Americans. It must be granted that
it leaps a cataract into the torrent below, j the odor of antiquity in some of the by
Where this stream has its origin, or at ! streets is slightly too strong for the most
what point it is swallowed up is abso-! romantic. But one can pardon that and
lutelv unknown, although it is believed even overlook the torture chamber, under
that its sources are a long way up in the
north country. Beside becoming the
channels of streams, the lava conduits
are frequently found impacted with the
ice masses which never entirely melt."
The Cook An Artist
The chef of a leading hotel in New
York lately admitted a reporter to his
inner sanctum, and there confided to him
the great secret of the cooking art.
" Everything in its raw state," says the
oracle, " has a distinctive taste, but the
cook's art is to bring it to the surface so
that it reaches the palate. The secret in
our profession is to supply flavors where
they are absent and to develop them
when they are there, just as the painter
makes his effect stand out from the can
SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL.
A plan for lessening the violence of
torms has been submitted to the French
Academy of Sciences by M. Minard, who
proposes to use a great number of light
ning rods elevated on telegraph posts
and connected with the iron tracks of
railways.
Mineral wool is used for packing to
deaden the sound between floors in
j buildings, and being incombustible it is
aB nTA .c;i;a in hwUhcm tvi;.
! wnnl ia nhtninAd frnm th nlnor frrm
vlaof anA ; -nmAnni K,r
' throwing a jet of steam against the stream
0i ; fl. rtm f,,,
r, i
JJApciimcuw uhc urcuuiauc m uuc ui
the large collieries in England with corn-
Pre9S,ea3 lime ior onnging aown coai irom
ine ieQ&e3- , .are .u.oreu 1Dlu lu?
v.em 01 -coai I? comPse.a
June and rubbish and then water is
erties of the atmosphere; Hobbes and
Locke discoursed of the human mind, its
laws and relations to matter.
When pure platinum is as soft as silver,
.4. i .1, J c ; 'j. :i i
but bv the addition of iridium it becomes
the hardest of metals. The great diffi-
rnltv in manirmlatinfr nlatirmm ia ifa or.
cessivfl reaistftnnfi tn hfiaf.. A tsmnfira.
tere that will make steel run like water
and melt down fir r.Uvhas Ahsnlntfilv no
platinum wire not thicker than human
hair into a blast furnace where ingots of
steel are melting down all around it and
the bit of wire will come out as absolute
ly unchanged as if it had been in an ice-
box a11 the thne
pie chemicals that are redicuously
cheap and easily manipulated. A little
sliding drawer at the bottom of the lamp
holds the electric spark in the solution, I
while, by simple touching a button, a
magnificent light is developed or ex-
tinguished, as the case maybe. This'
lamp does not specially differ in appear- :
ance from the ordinary kerosene affair,
and can be used in the same way, but
with a complete absence of trouble, odor
or danger.
in Anti iwn smi TTn.i.oii
3
Why, I saw houses in Nuremburg that
are not a day more than a hundred and
Dty year3 was shocked by the
Biui. oi a uun, at least, piate giass
wmaows. mere is gas in JNuremDurg.
Ihev have street cars there
Some of
the city wall has been torn down to let
in more of the nineteenth century.
But hardly a sight or sound within the
circuit of Rothenburg breaks in upon
your midiseval dream. The narrow,
dingy streets are lighted so far as lighted
at all by lanterns. These are hung on
wires stretched across the street, and are
drawn in by pulleys at one side to be re-
pienisnea.
btreet-rail or gas-lamp there
are none.
The tOAvn is hugged com-
pletely around with turreted gates. And
the towers, as they throw their arms ten
derly about their charge, look buck to
bid defiance to all modern institutions.
A3 your omniDus rattles unaer tnree or
fur successive arches into the silent
sireeis, ine lingering ecnocs oi i
our new era die away behind,
and you drop four or five centuries from
human history. You wander through
the little city (of not more than 6,500
inhabitants) wherever your feet incline J A door ig 80metime3 a jar and an earth
and pass hundreds of houses any one of , ke al U.-Lomu Courier.
which, like a certain old domicile m i iV . , . -
New London. Ct., or one in Medford, I In th.e Vdst of all the . excitement
Mass.. would be the chief "lion" of an i concerning it, the north pole remains
American town. Most of them were i perfectly cool. Blward.
standing before the Pilgrim fathers left
j Holland many of them before America ;
was discovered. With their steep, tow
ering, red-tiled roofs, their sculptured
gateways and corner turrets for defense,
and gloomy court-yards, they look down
in lordly compassion on your freshness
and your upstart nation beyond the sea.
Hour after hour I roam the streets, look
ing in vain for a modern house. Every
street is paved throughout, with hot a
sidewalk to be seen. The primitive sim
plicity and naturalness, too, of the Roth
enbergers, are charming. About every
man you meet recognizes you as a strang
er, and feeling that the town owes you a
courtesy, touches his hat with a cordial
! smile. Not a bad example for some of
the Rathhaus (of which the present gen
eration is innocent) in consideration of
all the wierd fascination of the quaint
old town. Prof. C. B. Wilcox.
A Rustic Rejoinder.
"How in the world can you content
yourself to live in this dead-and-alive
place I" asked the city visitor of her
country cousin. "I know I should die
if I had to stay here."
"Well," replied the rustic relative, "I
suppose I should, too; but then the city
i folks ain't here only a few weeks in the
year, you know."
In the United States there are in round
numbers 120,000 miles of railroads, cost
ing $6,000,000,000.
MORE IN THE MAN THAN IN THE
LAND.
x knowed a man, which he lived in Jonas,
Which Jones is a county of red hills and'
stones,
And he lived pretty mnch by gettin, of loans.
And his mules were nuthin' but akin and
bones
And his hog was flat as his corn-bread pones,
And he had 'bout a thousand acres of
land.
This man which his name it was also Jones
He swore that he'd leave them old red hill
and stones'
Fur he couldn't make nuthin' but yeUerisa
cotton. '
And little o' thot, and his fences was rotten,
And what little corn he had, hit wa
boughten,
And danged if a livin' was in the land.
And the longer he swore the madder he got,
And he riz and he walked to the stable lot;
And he hollared to Tom to come thar and
hitch,
For to emigrate somewhar whar land wa
rich,
And to quit raisin' cockburs, thistles and
sich, a
And a waistin' their time on the cussed
land.
So him and Tom they hitched up the mules,
Percestin' that folks was mighty big fools
That hid stay in Georgy their lifetime out,
Just scratchin' a livin' when all of 'em
'
; Get P1
mought -' ,
aces in Texas, whar cotton would sprout
5y the time you could plant in the land.
! And he driv by a house whar a man named
!
Jirown
Was a livin' not far from the edge of town,
And he bantered Brown for to buy his place,
And said that bein' as money was skace,
And bein' as sheriffs was hard o' face
Two dollars and acre would git the land.
They closed at a dollar and fifty cents,
And Jones he bought him a wagin and tents,
And loaded his corn and his wimmin and'
truck,
And moved to Texas, which it tuck
His entire pile, with the best 'o luck,
! To git thar and git him a little land.
j But Brown moved out on the old Jones farm,
t And he rolled up his breeche3 and bared his
I arm,
And he picked all the rocks from offn the
he root lt d . d 4 d
m. . , u t
Then he plowed his corn and his wheat In
eland.
Five years clid by. and Brown, one dav
groun',
j (Which he'd got so fat that he wouldn't
weigh),
! Was a settin down sorter lazily
i To the bulliest dinner you ever see.
- '
When one o' the children jumped on his knee,
And says: "Yan's Jones, which you
. bought his land."
! And thar was Jones, standing out at the
fence,
And ne nadn't no wagin, nor mules nor tents,
For he had left Texas afoot and cum
To Georgy to see if he couldn't get sum
Employment, and he was lookin' as humble
asef
He had never owned any laud.
Bat Brown he axed him in, and he sot '
Him down to his vittles smokin' hot,
And when he had filled hisself and the floor
Brown looked at him sharp and rtz and swore
That " whether men's land was rich or poor,
Thar was more in the man than thar was
in the land."
''-Sidney Lanier, in Southern Cultivator.
HUMOR OF THE DAY.
The butcher who trusts loses flesh.
. Boston Post.
The diver is the man who weights for
the tide. Neva York Journal.
:: Babies know nothing of politics, yet
thev are fond of crow. Puck.
"The work of reclaiming the Potomap
flats is rapidly going on," so says an.
exchange. . "This must be pleasant
reading for Washington dudes. Burling
ton Free Press?
A boarding-house cook has been
awarded $450 for the invention of a,
new and improved chicken soup. ' Per
haps the improvement consists of put
ting in some chicken. Derrick.
"At great heights, dogs lose theix
power of barking." It is a fine scheme,
then, to keep jour dog in the garret,
or tie him up to the swaying limb, of a
tall and lonely tree. Ilawkeye.
A young gentleman wishes, to- know
which is proper to say on leaving a young
lady friend after a late call good night
or good evening? Never tell a lie, young
man ; say good morning. Burlington, Fret
Press.
SHS AND ME.
She held him fast in her soft white arms .
And kissed him warm with a yearning
hug,
For she was a girl of the upper ten,
And he well, he was a dogoned pug.
Merchant-Traveler.
Maud "Isn't this a queer title for
book, mother: Not Like Other Girls V
I wonder what she can be if she is not.
like other girls ?" Mother "I don't.
know, unless she goes into the kitchen
J and helps her mother instead of staying
in tne parlor to read novels." Lfe.
A horrible example: A Parisian doc
tor precribed for a lady who had objec
tions against growing stout: "Take ex
ercise, my dear lady. Consider the tree
of the field; they never take exercise,
and as a consequence thev go on grow
ing bigger and bigger every year." Bs
I ton Journal.