LITTLE FEET.
Patter, patter, tilt Jn rent.
Making moloily ho tweet;
ttuhlo we ttll love to hear,
Gbirr.iliift to the Iwt'tifiui ttu
Kdvor woary lit the tight
Tireles in I ho nuutm of nlti
; Rout las little fwt at piny,
PiUtev, putter ll t he day.
Patter, pallor, Utile frwt,
Ohtutlntt btitlrrllitWKn uat,
O'er the fragrant luwn auil le,
Busy tut tint lulling be;
Diluting where the mm beam ftQ,
RtiMtiuK quick at paint1 call;
t Happy, sportive at your pty.
Putter, patter ail the duy.
Putter, patter, little itot,
Monji Urn rw btfKimlnjr nwedt, '
Where the mbln eliws liitt lay
And tin pmcloim children play
Baromer Hk i tttmve Ui icIdw
ftrlffht as Imby'it even below,
Witwoiui Hitle fwt that Mrav,
Patter, patter ail tlw day.
Patter, patter, Hitle foot,
BtrayliiR where Ute brooklet met,
Flitting o'er the meadows fair,
Seeking pleaiiure everywhere;
Fondly anwrtiiE love's w)t 'U,
Bringing hllsmif life to all
Praciouk Hi lit tent at play,
Patttir, jim tor all thn day.
rtodor a C. Miller iu New York Weekly.
TWICE TEN YEARS.
I remember It ut well u it it were yes
terday. The carriage sUioil at the door
Hut to take me buck to nchool for
the Hiring term. My mother gave me
tatrameraljle inntrtu-tioim. smoothed my
oullar and adjusted my cap on my head
properly, then pure me a kiss and Mood
looking wwtfully at me an I went down
the walk and got into the carriage.
A month or two later it was in Jane,
I think after a hard struggle one after
noon with aome fignree, all abont a ship
and a cargo and the profit and all that,
I went out to join the bora, When 1
reached the play gronnd they were gone,
and there wati nothing for me to do bnt
rail mywlf as bent 1 could. I strolled
aronnd the liouw with my bands in my
pocket (which my mother hud told me
dutinotly 1 innnt not do), and suddenly
nmem tiering hr inntnictions took them
ont again; then, for want of better
amusement, i began to whittle.
Next to the school there was a pretty
ottage seiaraud from the school house
by a board fence. The two houses were
sot 1IK) feet apart, and I could look right
through under the trees, and there on
the croquet ground stood a girl, a trifle
younger than myself, looking straight
at me.
Now, when u hoy suddenly finds him
self observed by a girl he feels very
queer. 1 remember that very well. My
hands went right into my ixkets, bnt
remembering that was not the correct
thing to do in the presence of a gir 1
took them directly out again. Then I
ooncluded that it would lie a good way
to show how little 1 was embarrassed by
turning twice around on my heel, a
movement on which I greatly prided
myself. After that I don't remember
now it was so long ago what new
capers I cut. But one thing is very cer
tain. I was soon hunting for something
I pretended to have lost in the grass be
side the fence,
"If it's yonr knife you've lost," 1 heard
a little voice say. "it isn't there. I
picked np a knife there a week ago. bnt
it was all rusty and no good."
"Oh, never mind," 1 said, looking np
fato two eyes away back in a sunbonuet,
"it wasn't much of a knife auyway, and
Pre got another."
"Are you one of the boys at the
onooir
t "yea."
"What reader are yon inr
"The Fourth."
"Do you study geography!"
', "Yes."
"Whats the capital of the United
States?"
I scratched my head.
"1 don't remember that," 1 admitted
reluctantly. "I'm first rate on capitals,
bnt I can't recollect that one."
"Why didn't you go off with the
boys?"
"I was behind with my sums. 1 ex
pect they've gone to the river. I like
the woods pretty well, they're full of
squirrels."
"And snakes," she added.
"I'm not afraid of snakes."
"And lizards,"
"Nor liiards. I suppose you're afraid
to go there." .
"No, I'm not."
"If you want to go there now, and are
afraid, 1 don't mind going along, just to
keep off snakes and things."
She looked wistfully out at the wood.
I can see her now leaning on her mallet,
deliberating if such a process can be
called deliberation where the conclusion
la predetermined the straigli. lithe fig
ore poiset between the mullet and one
foot, one little leg crossed on the other
peering out at Abe forest. Suddenly,
Without any warning, she dropped the
mallet and started for the wood.
We were not long In crossing the field
and were walking in the dense shade
when she stopped, and looking at me
with her expressive eyes said:
"How still it is in here! It seems to
me I can almost hear it be still."
"Yes, it b pretty solemn," 1 replied.
"Let's go on: the river winds around
4own there and we can see tha water go
over the dam."
I heard a distant voioe calling "Julia."
It was very faint; she did not hear it;
stood a moment hesitating.
"Come, let's go," I said, starting forward.
"Julia," 1 heard again, more faintly
than before.
I bnrried her on, fearing she would
hear the voice and turn back.
Presently we emerged f -:m the wood
and stood by the river. I as familiar
with the ground, and lednr little friend
directly to the dam.
"Host of the boys are slr.dd to walk
out on that dam," 1 said.
"rd be afraid."
"Bnt yon're only a girl; a boy ought
n't to be arraid." With that 1 started
boldly ont, occasionally standing on one
foot and performing sundry antics to
show what a brave boy I was. Then I
eame part way back and called to her to
Dome.
"Oh, no," she said; "I'm afraid."
"Afraidl You little goose! with me
to hold on tor
Betwixt her feaT and a disposition
pliable to a boy older and stronger than
herself, it was not long before I was
leading her out on the dam.
"Don't you see it's nothing?" I said.
She shrank back as I led her along. 1
determined that she should go to a point
where the water poured over a portion
of the dam lower than the rest. I turned
my hack to step up on the post It was
bnt a moment. I heard a cry, and saw
Julia in the flood. The expression that
was in her eyes is to this day stamped
clearly on my memory an expression of
mingled reproach and forgiveness.
1 oonld scarcely swim a dozen strokes,
bnt not a second had elapsed before 1
was in the flood.
I swam and struggled and buffeted to
reach her: all in vain. An eddy whirled
me in a different direction. My strength
was soon exhausted. I was borne down
the river, siuking and rising, till I came
to a place where I caught a gjyiipse as I
came to the surface of a mUh running
along some planks extending into the
river and raised above the water on
posts. My feet became entangled in
weeds. 1 sank. 1 beard a great roaring
in my ears, then oblivion.
When I came to I was lying on my
back. I remember the first thing I saw
was a light cloud sailing over the clear
blue. There was an air of quiet and
peace in it that contrasted with my own
sensations. Then I saw a man on his
knees beside something he was rubbing.
1 tnmed my bead aside and saw it was a
little figure a girl, Julia Bhe was cold
and stark.
My agony wus fur greater than when 1
had plunged after her into the stream.
Then 1 hoped and believed that if she
were drowned 1 wonld be also. Now I
saw her beside me lifeless, and 1 lived.
Then some men caine. and the man
who was rubbing Julia said to them,
"Take core of the boy; the girl is too
far gone." They took me np and carried
me away and laid me for awhile on a
bed in a strange house. Theo 1 was
driven to the school.
The next duy my father came and
took me home. I was ill after that, too
ill to ask about J ulia, but when 1 re
covered what a load was taken from my
mind to know that by dint of rubbing
and rolling and a stimulant she had
been brought to sud had recovered. 1
also learned that the man who cared for
us had seen Julia full and had rescued
her. When 1 saw him running along
the planks it was to his boat chained to
the end.
That summer my father removed with
his family to the Pacific coast He was
obliged to wait ome time for my recov
ery, but at last 1 was able to travel, and
left without again seeing the little girl
whom 1 had led into danger. 1 only
beard that I had been blamed by every
ne.
Ten years passed, during which I was
constantly haunted by one idea: that
was to go back to New England, find
Julia and implore her forgiveness. The
years that I must be a boy and depend
ent seemed interminable. At last 1
came of age and received a small fortune
that had fallen to me, and as soon as the
papers in the case were duly signed and
sealed 1 started east.
It wus just about the same time of the
yeur and the same hour of the afternoon
as when 1 first suw Julia that I walked
into the old school grounds. I had fully
intended to go in next door and call for
her, but my courage failed me. I hud
heard nothing of her for years. Was she
dead? Was she living? Was she iu her
old home, or far away? These thoughts
chased each other through my mind and
I dreaded to kuow.
1 was standing at the school entrance
with tny hand on the bell when I heard
a door in the next house open and theo
shut From that moment 1 could feel
that Julia was near me. She came out
of the house a slender, graceful girl of
nineteen, and pinking up a croquet mal
let commenced to knock the balls about
1 wanted to make myself known, but
dreaded the horror with which sho would
regard me when she should know who 1
was.
"I beg pardon," I said, raising my but,
"can you tell me if the school is still
there?' pointing to the house.
"It was moved some years ago," she
replied, regarding me with the old hon
est gaze.
"1 was one of the scholars."
"Indeed!" She spoke without any
further encouragement for tne to go on.
"I see the wood bus not been cut
away," 1 added, glancing toward it
"No, It does not seem to be."
" Were you ever there'r"
"Oh, yes, often."
"And is that old dam still across the
river?"
"I believe It is."
"Were yon ever on the dam?"
She looked ut me curiously. 1 went
os without waiting for n reply:
"Would yon inind showing mo the
way to it? It is a long while sinco 1 wus
there."
Bhe drew herself np with a slight
hauteur. Then thinking that perhaps 1
wus unaccustomed to the conventional
ways of civilized life, she said pleas
antly: "Yon have only to walk through the
wood straight back of the house and you
will come to it."
"Than you." I replied, "bat I hoped
you would show me the way."
She looked puzzled.
"Miss Julia," 1 said, altering my tone,
"I once met you when 1 was a boy here
at school."
"1 knew a number of the scholars,"
she said, more interested; "who may
yon her
I dreaded to tell her. "If yon will
pilot metolhedam." I ssid. "I will in
form you."
Bhe thought a moment, then turned
and looked out at the wood. With the
qnick motion with which she had made
the same move as a child she started for
ward. We walked side by side to the wood.
through It and ont on the river bank.
There was the water and the dam;
everything as it had been.
"Did you ever try to walk out there!"
I asked,
"Once, when I was a chiM, I came
here with a boy, and we walked to where
the water pours over. I met with an
accident 1 fell in."
"The boy overpersuaded yon, 1 sup
pose?" It was difficult forme to conceal a cer
tain tiepidation at the mention of my
fault.
"No, I went of my own accord."
"He certainly mnst have been to
blama, He was older and stronger than
you."
"On the contrary," she said, with a
slight rising irritation, "he jumped after
me like the noble little fellow that he
was."
1 turned away on pretense of examin
ing a boat down the river.
"At any rate be must have begged
yonr forgiveness on his bended knees
for permitting you to go into such a
danger."
"1 never saw him again. Ho went
away."
I fancied at least I hoped I conld
detect a tinge of sadness iu her voice.
"1 have often wished." shewent on,
"that he would come back, as the other
scholars sometimes do, as you are now,
and let me tell him how much I thank
biin for his noble effort."
"Julia," I said, suddenly turning and
facing her, "tins is ton much. I am that
boy. 1 led you into the wood. I forced
yon to go ont on the dam with me. I
permitted you to fall in."
"And more than atoned for all by risk
ing your life to save me!"
Ah. that look of surprised delight
which accompanied her words! It was
worth nil my past years of suffering, of
fancied blame: for iu it I read how dearly
she held the memory of the boy who had
at least shared the danger for which be
was responsible.
1 do not remember if she grouped my
hand or 1 grasped hers. At any rate
we stood hand iu hand looking into each
other's faces.
1 blessed the Providence that ended
my punishment; I blessed the good for
tune that had led me to a knowledge of
the kindly heart beside me. Of all the
moments of my life 1 still count it far
the happiest.
Then we walked buck through the
woods, over the intervening field, and
stood together leaning against the fence
between the old school and her home.
.
We did not part after that for another
ten years. Then she left me to go
whence 1 can never recall her. Yet
there is a trysting place in the woods,
through which we once passed as chil
dren, and often aTterwurd as lovers.
There I watch the flecked sunlight uud
murk the silence; and it seems to me that
I can "hear it be mill." Morethan that,
1 know the pure soul looks at me through
the honest eyes. F. A. MitcheL
A I'u.ltlve Hint.
A man can be more politely insulted in
Paris than in any city in the world. A
gentleman who undertook to speak in
public there expressed himself in such a
low toue of voice that the audience wero
unable to hear him. He wus lecturing
up a geographical subject, and copies
of a map about three feet square hail
been generally distributed.
Presently one of the audience rolled
up his map in the form of a very long
attenuated lamplighter, inserted the
small end in his ear and turned the other
end toward the speaker. It was a rather
ludicrous performance, but not a laugh
wus heard among the polite assemblage.
In two minutes, however, every mup in
the audience wus turned into an ear
trumpet, and the speaker saw himself
confronted with a sort of mammoth
porcupine, whose nearest quills almost
touched him. He ut once spoke louder.
Exchunge.
A Conscientious Oyitermau,
Tourist I have always understood
that oysters uro not good in months
without unr.
Oystermun Well, most gen'rally they
ain't.
Tourist When do you login gather
ing them?
Oystermun In Orgust. Good News,
I
Phey Retain Third Century Ctitttomt anil
Ifttvu Mont KeDiurkuhle UcIIck.
Abyssinia Is a country of queer customs,
and aslrangely interesting land. The pro
pi o are, for the most pnrt, dirty and im
moral, inferior in many respects to the
Knflirtt of South Africa, but they an' Chris
tians and have retained in its ancieu slm
plicity the religion that was taught them
Id tlie third century.
MONASTRRT OF DEMI A BI7.EH.
Among Ahymintans the man who kills a
Hon is a popular hero and ta awarded the
proud privilege of wearing about hit head
the mano of the beast he haa Hiuughtered, a
privilege that is prized as highly utt knight
hood among Europeans and makt its pon
Btfsor a man of mark to the end of his life.
Some interenting, rare and exceedingly
valuable relief, they are possessed of, too, or
think they are. Here is an aenount of a
visit to the monastery of Hizen by J. Theo
dore Bent, who recently returned from
Abyssinia:
We started off at break of day to visit
the monks. It took us three houm to reach
the summit, where the monastery of Debra
Bizen, or "the Church of the Vision," is
placed, and truly the name has been well
bestowed, for no more lovely vinion could
be imagined than the one which lay before
us. We could easily see Massowah and the
Red sea coast line, and the folds of rich
blue mountains to the right and left of us
as we stood on the pinuacle of the Bacred
mountain were glorious to behold.
My wife and I reached the holy precincts
on observed. We were seekiug out for our
selves a spot where we could repose when
down came the monks, mute with horror
at a woman having approuuhud so near, In
vain we expostulated and pleaded fatigue;
In vain we said we were English and de
termined to bold our ground. The monks
Bat around weeping and exclaiming, "Bet
ter for us to die t han to permit a woman to
stay here," Seeing their genuine distress,
my wife permitted her objectionable and
weary person to be removed about a quarter
of a mile away.
The church is round and built of wood.
It has inside two corridors around it where
the vulgar may penetrate, but iu the square
holy of holies not even the king may enter.
The mysterious relics kept by the Abyssin
ians in th?se innermost recesses claim ex
ceedingly bold origins. In one plaeethey
profess to have the original ark of the
covenant, in another a bag full of wind
blown by the Holy fjhost on the day of
Pentecost. At Debra Bizen our interpre
ter told me they kept the picture of the
madonna which .Menelek, the son of Solo
mon by the queen of Sheba, brought back
with him from J rusalam.
The life of a monk at IVbra Bizen must
be enjoyable enough. He wanders alwut
all day long in his white flowing robe and
yellow cap, enjoying air of the most perfect
freshness. He has his little stone cell or
wooden but beneath the sluidow of thy
rock. He has his refectory, where he meets
bis fellows twice a day at mealtimesthat
is to say, when there is no fast on, and fasts
In the AbyMsiniau calendar are many and
rigorous. On festival days he is very busy
chanting and dancing in the cUtirch. He
never marries. He knows nothing of tlie
world or its vices. His existence is a nega
tive one he does neither harm nor good to
his fellow creatures.
The Figure "4" in tiruvy' Life.
The iiure "4" was curiously associ
ated with the life of the- late French
president. M. (irevy died after four
days' illness, four years after his re
moval from the presidency, at the ago of
eighty-four. He lived under four sov
ereigns in the earlier part of his life.
Then came the revolution of 1848, and
four govern tneiits then succeeded each
other before bo -was elected president.
Lastly, he died under the fourth presi
dent of the present republic. M. (irevy,
when in practice at the bar. received
thn largest fee ever paid counsel during
this century, lie held the lucky brief
for his friend, M. Dreyfus, iu the great
guano lawsuit, and wad paid altogether
40,000. Not even the aggregato fees
paid Sir John Duke Coleridge (now Lord
(Soleridge) in the Tichborne trial ap
proached this splendid fee. -London Tit
Bits. -
Enlflrprittlny Advertising.
A firm on Fourteenth street, in the
busiest shopping neighborhood, has in
troduced a novel advertisement. A.
painted theatrical ocean is constructed
on the roof of one house, while the roof
of the adjoining bmldiug, being u 1 i tt It
higher, serves agpthe shore. (In this
shore a man attired us the lone shi;r-
man gits and industriously goes through
the pantomime of fishing. Nov and
then he works tlie Hues of it miniature
sailboat, causing the latter to skim the
mimic sea. All of this attracts the at
tention of thousands of people on the
opposite walk. For fear, however, that
gome might go by without seeing it, a
hired confederate of tlie lone fisherman
saunters along tlie walk and gazes up
ward. It is human nature to stop aud
look at anything anybody else is looking
at Ui'sult, crowds of curious gazers.
New York Herald.
A Ouud Example,
Mrs. Goodwin You shouldn't, eat so
many peanuts, Johnny. You'll be hav
ing dyspepsia. .
Johnny Do tha policemen have dys
pepsia, uioiiiiua? Life.
ABYSSINIAN MONKS.
9 'Jov . s
A Turtle's Nftit.
In the town of Pat ton, u place .distant
from tidewater over ninety miles, there
is a great curiosity, known as the "tur
tle's nest." For fifty-two years a turtle
has come annually to tlie nest to deposit
her eggs. Over half a century ago she
selected her nest, then in au open field,
but now in a yard in front of a resi
dence. A relative of the owner of the
bouse branded the date 1841 upon the
turtle's back, and it can be plainly
traced now. She comes about the same
date each year, and her first few days
are passed in inspecting the ancient
est, the yard and surroundings.
Later she digs a hole in the ground
and there deposit her eggs. This year
she left forty-two eggs, but as many
were carried away and the others often
disturbed, Only about a doxen of the
eggs hatched out. The owner of the
house has ten of the little tnrtles. none
more than twice the size of a postage
stamp. Tlie old turtle always departs
after laying the eggs; the warm sand
and sun serve as an incubator.
This turtle has been seen at the Drew
Dead Water on the Mattawamkeag
river, fully fifty miles away from the
nest. Her weight varies from thirty to
thirty-live pounds, ami it is said she was
aa large when branded as she is now.
Each J uue she comes to Patten, and is
always welcomed by old and young.
Bangor (Me.) Letter.
Uats Off III the Synagogue.
The vexed question of "hats on" or
"hate off' during public worship was
settled at the annual meeting of the
Aushe Chesed congregation, at the tem
ple on Scoville avenue. The old "Jewish
custom of the male members of the con
gregation wearing their hats during
public worship has always been in vogue
in this congregation. A number of the
younger and more progressive nietnlwrs
have objected to the custom, and it has
caused more or less discussion for several
yearn. The oljler members held tena
ciously to their hats, and the younger
ones bided their time until they should
have a sufficient majority converted to
their views to change the custom.
The matter was brought up at the an
nual meeting, which was very largely
attended. The hat question was dis
cussed at great length, and several very ,
warm speeches were made on both sides.
It was finally put to a vote, and the
members who are opposed to wearing
hats were victorious by a decided ma
jority, The decision was that hereafter
the congregation shall worship with hats
off, but those who desire to retain their
head covering will be permitted to do
so. Cleveland Leader and Herald.
Walking Bavlt Ut the lllg City.
Wrecks of the early winter theatrical
seasiin are already seen in New York
managers whose ventures have failed
after a few nights out of town, tired
looking actors who seem to have walked
home, and bedraggled looking women,
whose faces tell plainly of their disap
pointments. It is the old story of poor
plays, poor houses aud the, refusal of the
ghost to do his weekly little pedestrian
act. And yet in the main the theatrical
outlook is very good, for with big crops
comes plenty of money and an army of
people to "be amused. But it is the sur
vival of the fittest The por plays are
not patronized, and the managers of
many come to grief. There are many
familiar faoes ou the Ptialto today, men
and women who started off n month
ago filled with hope. 8omeof them will
be glad to shovel snow for a living be
fore spring. Foster Coutes iu Mai) and
Express.
A Hud Place fur Wreeka.
When a vessel sinks in the channel
through Lake George flats, near Sault
St. Marie, there is plenty of trouble.
Tlie value of the vessels delayed by a
wreck there recently is estimated at
$14,000,000. and that of their cargoes at
$4,000,000. At one tiuie seventy lake
steam vessels were anchorni on the east .
side of the blockade and sixty on the
west side, and a new channel had to he
cut through the flats to allow them to
continue their ways. Four dredges
worked day and night to make a channel
TOO feet in length, 00 in width aud 50 in
depth. It is said that the only way to
prevent accidents like that which caused
the wreck is to limit the speed of vessels
in the channel. There was the same
trouble at the St. Clair flats until men
were stationed at the ends of the chan
nel to time the vessels. New York Suit
A Wonderful llndHrgruiind Lake.
An underground luke has been dis
covered three miles from Genesse, Ida.
It was found hy a well digger. At a
iieptn or sixteen reet clear, pure take
Liter ran out over the surface for a
a, then Bottled back to the earth's
1. The most curious part of it is
that fish were brought to the surface on
the overflow. They have a peculiar np
pea ran eu and are sightlesss, indicating
that they are nudei-grounl fish. TU
spring has attracted much attention,
and many furnters in the viiity fear
that their farms will drop iuto the lake,
Boise (Ida.) Statesman.
Bobbed WJille Aftteep.
A queer cae was tried in the circuit
court of Louisville Friday. The defend
ant was a man who was captured in the
act of committing' burglary. Th de
fense set up the plea that tlie defendant
was a somnambulist and was asleep at
the time he committed the deed and
was, therefore, unconscious of wrong
doing. The jury believed and acquitted ;
the man. Philadelphia Ledger,