274 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
08T. 24 
his first case, and had attained a settled busi¬ 
ness, lie felt the time to determine his fate had 
come; yet how could it be done? The very 
thought distressed him. Could he—dare he ask 
her? Could she know how much her answer 
would tnoan to him ? If she said “yes,” what 
happiness and success; how much to live for? 
Jf she said “no “—he didn't dare to think. 
The more he thought over it, the more he 
hesitated and the more lie delayed—the harder 
ii became. At last he determined it should be 
done. 
Clio met him as usual with a pleasant smile. 
Jack tried to smile, but it ebbed off over his 
countenance, and was lost In his “solemn ex¬ 
pression," just a little wave Is often lost in a 
larger. Clio saw something was going to hap¬ 
pen, and, woman-llke, divined Intuitively what 
it was. But he hud kept her waiting In sus¬ 
pense and uncertainty so long that now, when 
It was about to come, she determined she 
would not help him in the least. At length 
Jack began ; 
“Clio, I’m having considerable business 
now." 
“ Ves," said she, very demurely, with a <|uiet 
lltllo nod; then relapsed Into silence, without 
another word. Jack fidgeted and thought, 
“ Why don’t she say something, and keep a 
fellow ou V" 
“ I’ve got so now I can support myself and—” 
“ I’m right glad to hear it,” said Clio. 
Jack felt somehow she was sporting with 
him, and flashed up. 
“ You never hoard that I did’t support my¬ 
self, did you? ” 
“I, no! But then—" 
“ But then ? You know, Clio, that ever since 
j was fifteen—” 
“Never mind,” said Clio, “for it seems as 
thougli I have heard a story commencing like 
that before, Jack.” 
With that Clio smiled, mid Jack's momentary 
displeasure vanished ; yet there was left on Ins 
mind the undefined impression that, after all, 
he had been sold. But the ice of reserve was 
broken. 
"To be plain, Clio, I came down to toll you 
that 1 love you." 
Here came a long pause. Jack looked at 
everything in the room except Clio. It was 
getting exceedingly embarrassing to Jack, 
when there came a quiet “ Well," from Clio. 
“And to say ” went, oil Jack, ns though no 
Interruption had occurred, “ that, J am In a 
condition to got married.” 
"That’S a very desirable situation for any 
young man, 1 am sure,” said (’llo; and then she 
laughed that same low, rippling laugh he loved 
so. Poor follow! why couldn’t he have inter¬ 
preted the love l'or him which rounded and 
mellowed that laugh? But no; he grew des¬ 
perate, and, with the thought that slio whs 
sporting with him, Just a little angry. 
“ 1 might, have known how It would end. Any 
fellow is a fool to dandle round any girl for 
three years." And ho strode toward the door. 
His hand was upon It. “I might have known 
you wouldn’t have married me.” 
“ But, Jack "—he turned “ you haven’t asked 
me to. 1 ' 
“Haven’t asked you to?” Jack caught the 
look in liei- eyes. The next moment she was in 
hla arms, and her arms around ills neck—and 
well, the fact is, Jack never did ask the ques¬ 
tion. 
After the first happy moments had passed, 
and the eostacies of the acknowledged mutual 
love had effervesced t hat word scorns to ex¬ 
press the Idea about as well as any—Jack 
began: 
“Darling, I have loved you ever since the 
first day in the grove. How long have you eared 
for me?" 
“Since I saw you standing so lonely and 
looking SO down-hearted under that pine tree." 
I think afoer that reply Jack kissed hor. 1 
know I should had I been ho. 
Tho other day I visltod Jack and his wife, in 
the yard In front of their home I saw a smalt 
pine tree, which they tend with the greatest 
oaro. I asked Jack where he found it. A 
smile and a look of peculiar significance passed 
between him and his wife, as he answered, “ In 
the grove.” 
■-♦♦♦-- 
“TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION.” 
The N. Y. Times gives some Interesting mor¬ 
alizing remarks on two peculiar strange cases 
of real life, recently developed, one of which is 
described under the title of “ Remarkable Oc¬ 
currence." The other Is related as follows; 
In the backwoods of Saratoga County there 
is reported to be a boy who is closely kept and 
watched by a woman to whom he appears to 
be not related. Tho lad is not permitted to 
bold communication with anybody, but lie has 
succeeded in tel ling some one that he used to 
llvo in Brooklyn. Moreover, his unnatural 
guardian Is said to receive from that city the 
money needed for tho maintenance of both. 
Distant neighbors, piqued by this apparent 
mystery, have spread abroad these scant de¬ 
tails, and one bereft parent, missing liis son 
since last May, has gone to examine into the 
facts. This is melodrama, and the possibilities 
of romance that present themselves are Infin¬ 
itely suggestive. What glimpses may wo not 
get of a cruel uncle sending ills ward, not to be 
covered with leaves by pitiful robin red-breasts, 
as were the Children in the Wood, hut to be 
hidden in the forests of Saratoga County by a 
mysterious crone who gets postal money orders 
from Brooklyn. Or, t here may be an abduction 
here; the woman is the custodian of a stolen 
child, and when the Brooklyn father reaches 
the cabin he may find that tho unknown has 
vanished like a stage Zatniel in a myth, and the 
melodramatic woman of the backwoods is a 
reality. Of course this suggests also the mys¬ 
terious case of the long lost boy, though there 
is no actual connection between the two inci¬ 
dents. Given the facts already known about 
the Itoss child, his father, family, homo, and 
disappearance, and there rise at once number¬ 
less strange and exciting dramatic situations. 
Each of the many theories of the affair is u 
story in Itself. An ingenious playwright could 
make from tills material a vast ly more striking 
drama than that, of “Tho Child Stealer,” a s®n- 
satlonal placarding of which,by thaway, great¬ 
ly terrified the people of Philadelphia some 
years ogo. 
WORK A BLESSING. 
Many young men have fathers that are well 
off, and they have no ambition, and no particu¬ 
lar prospect. They scorn a trade. A man that 
Is too well-born for a trade is very well-born 
for a gallows ! Thousands of parents, who, by 
Industry', have gained a position which enables 
them to destroy their children, take the mi rest 
moat a of accomplishing their destruction by 
encouraging them in idleness, and allowing 
t hem os they grow up to feel that it i-sdcorruce- 
ful to work at whatever manual labor best 
suits his talents, no matter whether ids father 
Is a minister, or u lawyer, or if Serial or, or the 
President of the United .States. Many young 
men are looking forward upon life with the 
general Idea that they are going to enjoy them¬ 
selves. They are provided with all needful 
physical comforts, and they mean to be happy. 
They have no trade. They slight their profes¬ 
sion. Their whole governing principle in life 
is to shirk anything like work; and they ex¬ 
pect to have enjoyment without industry. But 
no man in this world will be happy who violates 
the fundamental law of industry. You must 
work if you are going to boa happy man. I 
know you think It is hard ; but if God had 
incant thut you should be a butterfly, you 
would be horn a butterfly. And as you were 
not born a mot h or a miller, hut a man, you 
must accept the conditions of your manhood. 
And If there Is one principle that N more Im¬ 
portant at the very t hreshold of life than an¬ 
other, It is that man is horn In work. 
■ -■4-4-e- 
THE SIGNIFICANCE IN HAIR. 
There seems to bo a deeper significance in 
hair than meets the eye. Sons of Esau, whose 
hoards grow high up ou their cheek bones, who 
are hairy down to t heir ankles and to tin sec¬ 
ond Joints of their fingers, are generally men of 
a kindly and charitable nature, strong in what 
we call the human element. One remembers 
their stout hand-grip; they look frankly In 
one’s face, and the heart is apt to go out to 
them more spontaneously than the smooth¬ 
faced Jacobs. Such a man was Samson, whose 
hair was his strength the strength of inborn 
truth and goodness, whereby he was enabled to 
amtte the lying Philistines. And although they 
once by their sophistries managed to get the 
better of him for a while, they forgot that good 
inborn Is too vigorous a matter for anymore 
razor finally to subdue. Hoe, again, what a 
great beard St. Paul had, and what an out¬ 
spoken, vigorous heart! Was it from freak 
that Greeks and Easterns reverenced beards 
as symbols of manhood, dignity and wisdom, 
or that Christian fathers thundered against the 
barber as a violator of Divine law? No one, 
surely, could accuse that handy, oily, easy, lit¬ 
tle personage »>f evil Intent, hut. lie symbolized 
tho subtle principle which pares away tho nut- 
aural virtue rif man and substitutes an artificial 
polish, which M hypocrisy. It is to be observed, 
however, that hair can he representative of 
natural evil as well us of good. A tangle- 
headed bushranger does not win our sympa¬ 
thies. A Mussulman keeps keeps his board re¬ 
ligiously clean. 
- » 
EASTERN SCRIBES. 
A COHRESPONDENT of the Utica Herald writes 
os follows of tho scribes in a Constantinople 
bazaar, who write letters, keep accounts, or do 
anything In that line for the great mass of tho 
people: “They are usually old, gray-hatred 
men, with long robes and a peculiarly-shaped 
white hat. indicative or their oflico, Very grave 
men they are and deeply learned, no doubt, us 
men should be who are the depositories of 
other people’s thoughts and uppolnted to give 
advice to the young ami inexperienced. Each 
scribe sits upon a low bench or table, squatting 
cross-lc rgod, and smoking his long pipe with 
the greatest solemnity. By his side is a small, 
flat board, which he uses ns a writing-desk, and 
hanging from Ids girdle Is an lnk-hom of some 
fanciful device, and in his hand or stuck be¬ 
hind his ear Is the reed pen. In addition to 
their usual work these men are authorized to 
prepare legal papers, such as deeds and bills of 
sale and legal contracts, mid to administer 
oaths when necessary." 
-*•■*•■*- 
ALMOST A KING. 
Thkke died in Allegheny, i*a., recently,.an 
old man who, the Pittsburg Commercial says, 
had at one time, according to his own account 
and the facts that can be ascertained concern¬ 
ing his history, strong aspirations to a throne 
in Europe, nis name was John William Les- 
kar, and his age 67 years. He has been in this 
country H years and in Allegheny 13 years. He 
catne from Saxony where, according to ac¬ 
counts, he was a man of great wealth ami high 
position. A revolutionary movement w'asstart- 
od and Leskar placed himself at the head of it. 
Had tho movement succeeded, he was to have 
been placed on kite Saxon throno. The revolu¬ 
tion was a failure, and the. throne did without 
Leskar. Worse t ban that, his estate was confis¬ 
cated and he became an exile. Ho came to this 
country and accept el the exciting career of 
barber in Allegheny City. A day or two since 
he became fII, and lie died in such poverty that, 
the authorities will have to bury him. Leskar 
has a. brother and a son now in Saxony. The 
brother Is a man of great wealth and the son. it 
is said, is attached to the Court of tho present 
ruler. It Is stated that the Influence of friends 
could have saved Leskar from exile and nis 
property from confiscation, but he would not 
permit such Influence to be used. Noltlier 
would he in later years permit his brother or 
ids son to do anything in his behalf. 
- ■»•»»- 
GOOD ADVICE. 
I am always sorry' for a man who knows how 
to do but one thing, I have soon many such 
men. I gave ten dollars to ono wdio could 
speak and write five or six languages and trans¬ 
late beautifully; tmt in the middle of a hard 
Winter he could not get a living. I knew an¬ 
other man who had preached t wenty-five years, 
till his throat failed him, and ho used to go 
around looking very blue and sad, until people 
pitied him and got up donation parties for Idm, 
because he was good for nothing except to 
preach. 1 knew a lady who had taught, school 
for twenty years, till she was it poor, nervous, 
broken-down woman, and didn’t know how to 
make a dress for herself. Now, hoys and girls, 
every real man should know how to do ono 
t hing right well. Every wise farmer has a prin¬ 
cipal crop; hut lie has always a little something 
else to live on. Don’t carry nil your eggs in one 
basket. Don’t put alt your money in one 
pocket. If you want to get along right well, 
learn one sort of work to get along by, and all 
sorts of work to get a living with when your 
ono sort gives out. —T. K. Ih cvhcr. 
■ - — ■■ - 
TOO OFTEN TRUE. 
Some men take too much money out of their 
business to expend in household expenses and 
lavish display, and speedily bring them solves 
to the verge of bankruptcy. One old gentle¬ 
man, who had commenced life as a poor hoy, 
had, by mastering tho difficult steps to final 
ruccess, gained considerable wealth as a mer¬ 
chant. When he arrived at old age he retired 
to private life, to live in ease and comfort on 
his income, leaving a prosperous business in 
t.be hands of bis sou. 
In three years the young ntan was bankrupt. 
He had failed in business and was compelled 
t,o take a position as clerk in a stranger’s store. 
His father was asked why it was that, in a busi¬ 
ness in which he had succeeded so well his son 
had failed. He gave this characteristic answer: 
“When first, I commenced business nty wife 
and I lived on porridge. As my business in¬ 
creased we had better food, and when I could 
afford it we had eblcken. But, you see, Jonnny 
commenced with the chicken first!” 
-- 
THE PRICE OF A KISS. 
A London correspondent of the Chicago 
Journal says“ What is the tariff In t he States 
for kissing barmaids? 1 ask for information, 
because we have just established one here. Mr. 
Partridge, ono of our most consoierjous magis¬ 
trates, In a case recently before him, has de¬ 
cided that kissing a barmaid’s hand is French 
manners and only a bit of fun, and from the 
point of view of an English statute is nothing, 
and hence It may be indulged In with Impunity, 
so far as he Is concerned. But to kiss a barmaid 
on the check Is an offence within the law, and 
he must Inflict a flue of $*>. The supreme of¬ 
fence Is putting an arm around the waist of a 
barmaid and kissing her on the lips, and this 1* 
to bo punished by a line of $7.80 (30 shillings 
English). Fiyaro says this is cheap enough, 
provided the barmaid Is pretty. The recent 
offender, however, was unable to pay the line, 
and was sent to prison in consequence.,’ 
RICH WITHOUT MONEY. 
Many a man is rich without money. Thou¬ 
sands of tnen with nothing In their pockets are 
rich. A man born with a good, sound constitu¬ 
tion, a good stomach, u good heart, good limbs 
and a pretty good headpiece, Is rich. Good 
hones are better t han gold ; t ough muscles bet¬ 
ter than silver; and nerves that flash tire and 
carry energy to every function are better than 
houses or land. It is better than a landed es¬ 
tate to have the right kind of father or mother. 
Good breeds and bad breeds exist among men 
as really as among herds and horses. Educa¬ 
tion may do much to check bad tendencies or 
to develop good ones, but it is a greater thing 
to inherit the right proportion of faculties to 
start with. The man is rich who has a good 
disposition who is naturally kind, patient, 
cheerful and hopeful, 
Beyond life.’* toils unit cares, 
Its hopes and Joys, Its weariness and sorrow, 
Its sleepless nights, tt-s days of smile* and tears, 
Will be a long sweet tire, unmarked by years. 
One bright, unending morrow. 
Beyond time’s troubled stream. 
Beyond the chilling waves ot death's dark river. 
Beyond ltfe’s lowering clouds and fitful gleams, 
Its dark realities and brighter dreams, 
A beautiful forever. 
No achmg beartB arc there, 
No toiir-dlrnmod eye, no form by sickness wasted. 
No cheek grown pale through pennry or caie, 
No spirits crushed beneath the woes they bear. 
No sighs for bliss untasted. 
No sad farewell la heard. 
No lonely wall for loving ones departed, 
No dark remorse is theru o’er memories stirred. 
No smile of Reorn, no harsh or cruel word 
To grieve the broken-hearted. 
No long, dark nlgbt is there, 
No light from sun or silvery moon is given. 
But Christ, the I.amli of Cod, all bright and fair, 
Illumes tho city with effulgence rare. 
The glorious light of Heaven ! 
No mortal eye hath seen 
The glories of that land beyond the river, 
Its crystal lakes. Its fields of living green, 
Its fadeless flowers and tho unchanging sheen, 
Around the throno forever. 
Kar hath not heard the song 
Of rapturous praise within that shining portal; 
No heart of man hath dreamed what joys belong 
To that redeemed and happy blood-washed throng. 
Alt glorious and Immortal. [Selected. 
SWEARING IN HEBREW. 
A 1 ADY, riding in a car on the New York 
Central Railroad, was disturbed In her reading 
by the conversation of two gentlemen occupy¬ 
ing tho seat just before her. One of them 
seemed to bo a student of some college, on his 
way home from vacation. 
He used much profane language, greatly to 
her annoyance, She thought she would rebuke 
him, and on begging pardon for Interrupting 
them, asked tho young student If he had studied 
tho languages. 
“ Do you read and speak Hebrew ?" 
“Quite fluently." 
“Will you be so kind as to do me a small 
favor?" 
11 With great pleasure. I am at your service.” 
“ Will you be so kind as to do your swearing 
In Hebrew?” 
The lady was not annoyed any more by the 
uiigeutlemauly latiguagc^^f this would-be 
gentleman. 
Probably ten men swear in this country whore 
one prays, and the swearing man swears out 
loud a hundred times a day, while the praying 
man prays secretly perhaps twice or thrice. If 
men would swear In unknown tongues it. might 
spare tho feeling of the hearers, but even then 
the Lord would hear it nil. But there will be 
an cud of t ills torrent of blasphemy by-and-by. 
“ Behold, the Lord cotneth with ten thousand 
of His saints to execute Judgment upon all, and 
to convince all that arc ungodly ot all the hard 
speeches Which ungodly sinner* have spoken 
against Him.”—(Jude Ft: I T7tc Christ tan 
-* ♦ » 
A BEAUTIFUL SENTIMENT. 
Shortly before his departure for India the 
lamented Heber preached a sermon in w'hich 
was the following: 
Life bears us on like the stream of a mighty 
river. Our boat glides down the narrow chan¬ 
nel—through the playful murmuring of Its 
grassy borders. The trees shed their blossoms 
over young heads and the flowers on the brink 
seem to offer t hcmsclves to our young hands ; 
we are happy In hope, and grasp eagerly at 
the beauties around us—but the stream hurries 
and still our hands are empty. Our course in 
youth and manhood 1* amid objects more strik¬ 
ing and magnificent. We are animated at the 
moving pictures of enjoyment and industry that 
are passing us; we are excited at borne by a 
short-lived disappointment. The stream bears 
us on, and our Joys and griefs are alike left 
behind us. We may be ship-wrecked, we can¬ 
not be deluyed. Whether rough or smooth, the 
river hastens to its home, until the roar of the 
ocean la In our eara, and the tossing of the 
waves Is beneath our feet and the land lessens 
from our eyes, and floods are lifted arouDd us, 
and we take our leave of earth and Its Inhabi¬ 
tants, until on our further voyage there is no 
witness save the Infinite and Eternal. 
The forsaking of evil is not enough. No man 
can easily forsake evil except by taking hold 
On good. Industry is the cure of idleness, 
“Let him that stoic steal no more, but rather 
let him labor, working with his bunds the thing 
which is good,” ways the apostle. Work is a 
cure for dishonesty, If a man works at right 
things hardjenough and long enough. The way 
to at tack any evil is to put into the place of it 
its opposite. 
-- 
To read) the port of heaven, we must sail 
sometimes with the wind and sometimes against 
it, hut we must sail and not drift, nor lie at 
anchor.—0. W. Holmes. 
