630 
SEPT. 48 
ce8tors, tout then be was differently placed; per¬ 
haps, had he been as rich as they, he would have 
been equally haughty. As It was, they regretted 
his departure. Mrs. Uyde rather congratulated 
herself that the young squire could no longer 
come "loafing" about their premises, making 
Annie Idle, and “ above her work.” 
Rex was to start by the mid-day express, so 
that his last meal with his slaters was breaklast. 
I was an unusually merry one, for each vied with 
the other as to who should be the most animated 
and say the wittiest things. It was but a false 
gaiety, but it prevented the real sadness which 
possessed them from appearing on the surface. 
The first break In any family must of necessity 
occasion sadness, and these three young people 
had been all In all to each other for a long time 
now, and both sisters - hearts were heavy at the 
thought of their brother’s departure Reginald 
himself was elated and excited, and It was only 
when, In talcing leave of Mattie, she broke down 
in a passion of tears on Ills shoulder, that his lip 
quivered and his voice fattered. 
“ Don’t break down, Mattie, he said, tenderly. 
I will do my heat, dear little Dame Burden, be¬ 
lieve me l will l” 
“Yes, jest” said Mattie, with a sob. “And 
you will keep straight, dear Rex!—you will let us 
he proud ol you, Cecil and 1. will you not?" 
“Keep Straight! why of course I will, you 
anxious little sister! Wliat. harm can 1 get into 
In Uncle llenry’a warehouse ?” 
•• None, I hope, and you wilt write to us regu¬ 
larly, Rex ?” 
<> yes, certainly, he answered, soothingly. Don’t 
fret, Mattie; Cecil, be a good girl, and don’t let 
little Dame Burden mope, and mind that you are 
a good correspondent.” 
So Reginald went away, leaving bla sisters 
very lonely and disconsolate, although Cecil ful¬ 
filled her brother’s partlDg Injunction, and Old her 
best, to console her sister. She was to all out¬ 
ward appearance quite Indifferent hersell; but 
old Barton could have told Mattie, who rather 
wondered, and began to fear that Cecil was a little 
beanlet-s, that he had round her in the stables 
with her arms round Black Prince'S neck, sobbing 
as If her heart were lit. to break, while the horse, 
who seemed to understand that he had lost his 
muBlcr, was turning his eyes upon her In dumb 
sympathy, to show that he shared her grief. 
Cecil was too proud to bear pity, and she did her 
best to shake off all outward signs or depression; 
but she felt Reginald’s departure Ueeu ly. 
In a few days came a letter from the absent 
brother, written In the highest spirits, and paint¬ 
ing everything rose-color. 
Uncle Henry bad received him lu the kindest 
manner, had given him a suite of rooms In his 
nouse at south Kensington—a house which was 
more like a palace than any ordinary residence— 
had told him that he was to look upon him as his 
father, for that he was quite prepared to accept 
him as a son. 
Uncle Henry is a splendid old hoy,” wrote Rex. 
enthusiastically. *• He Is very handsome, tall and 
portly, with thick white hair. Ills manner Is per¬ 
fect ; kind and genial. 
He is going to allow me three hundred pounds a 
year as a beginning, but he told me openly and 
frankly, that If we got on together, he would treat 
me as he would have treated hla son had he lived. 
So, little Dame Burden, you need have no appre- 
hemdensformy luture.’’ 
Several months passed away quietly and uu- 
eventfu Uy at Lester, enlivened by frequent letters 
from licit, always written In the highest spirits, 
speaking warmly ol Uncle Henry’s kindness and 
generosity, and by sundry presents from both 
uncle and brother. There came one day u piano 
for Mattie, and piles or new music, but, wheu she 
wrote to thank her uncle he took no notice of the 
letter and Rex wrote that he did not like to be 
thanked. 
in like manner came a perfect riding-habit 
and a new saddle wllh all kinds of improvements, 
for Cecil, and Rex kept both girls well supplied 
with hooks and periodicals, so that that winter 
passed away very pleasantly. At Christmas ltex 
came, to see them, looking very handsome and ex¬ 
ceedingly well-dressed with a languor In his 
manner at which Cecil laughed, but which 
she admired nevertheless. He went back to town 
earlier than they had expected, lor the country 
bored him a little, although he was too good natured 
to show It. 
The next summer he came again, but, stayed a 
shorter time still, and alter that he came no more; 
and although his letters were frequent, they were 
short andliuirled, and always pleaded excess of 
work as an excuse lor longer epistles. 
And thus three years passed away, quietly, 
purely’- blamelessly, to the two girls in their deso¬ 
late old home, and not unhappily; but for Reg¬ 
inald Lester, In that great city, rull of tempta¬ 
tion to sin and excess, how did the months pass ? 
We shall see.—To be continued. 
BRIC-A-BRAC. 
MUTUALLY IMAGINATIVE. 
“ Goon-Monuix’. Mi»e Katie," euid young Mickie Fee: 
" Good raoruin\ again: it’B yourself 6hure I see, 
Lookin’ bloomin’ ub iver." But Kate turned away 
As she said. “ Mister Mickie, I wish you good-day. 
You’re a heartless desaver—now don’t spake a word! 
Pretty tales about you and that Korah I’ve heard. 
You know you danced with her the day of the fair, 
Amt praised her gray eyes and very red hair, 
You called her an angel; quite in love with her fell; 
And at night when you parted,you kl66c4her as well!” 
Then young Mickey gave a sly wink as he said. 
” I desaved her. my darlin’—this way turn your head— 
Yes, faith, I desaved her ; my darlin’. it’s true; 
For I shut both my eye®, Kate, and fancied ’twas you! 
Yes, ihat’s what 1 did; 
Katie, It’e true; 
X shut both my eyes. 
And fancied ’twas you 1” 
* • Well, I’ve no time to stay, so good-bye. Mickle Fee, 
You may dosave her, but you don’t desave me; 
I’* net to be blarneyed. Mick, a word in your ear; 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
You had better be off, for my dad’s cornin’ here.” 
“ Oh, your dad’s cornin’ is he ? That’s not him I see 
Now bobbin’ behind that owld blackthorn tree ? 
For It’s Paddy Mahon !" " Oh,” said K ate, with a Bneer, 
" You’ve got your eyes open at last, Mickie dear. 
And slime you are riiflrt; ’tin my own darlin’ Pat, 
So take my advice, Mlek, and get out of that; 
For he’s cornin' to court me. Now listen, my lad 
When that boy kisses me. O won't you be glad 1 
For when his lips meet mine, why. what will I do r 
But shut both my eye-’, Mick, and fancy it’s you. 
That's what I’ll do 
Mickle.it's true; 
Shut both tny eyes, 
And fancy it's yon.” 
1)16 APPOINTED, 
Thekk is nothing like presence of mind after all. 
One dark, rainy night, old Dr. Botts, who lives on 
Van Ness avenue, San Francisco, was trudging 
homeward, when he discovered Dial lie was being 
dogged toy a burly ruiilun, evidently Intent on 
robbery. They were In a lonely part or the town, 
and the man was Just at his heels, when the doc¬ 
tor buttoned his coat up to his chin, suddenly 
turned back, and said i o Ills pursuer : 
** Please, sir, give me a dime to buy something 
to eat. 1 don’t want to get whisky, indeed I don’t; 
haven’t had anything to eat In two days.” 
“ Great Scott !” exclaimed the footpad, re-pock- 
etlng his slungshot with profound disgust, “ to 
think here I’ve been piping off a pauper tor over a 
mile.’’ 
And he walked off swearing at his luck. 
LINES TO A HEN. 
Faiie tliee well, and if forever, 
Still forever fare Dice well; 
.Since 'tis clear I can’t digest thee, 
•Gainst thee 1 mUBt needs rebel. 
Now that breast Is bared before me, 
Which so long on eggs hath sate, 
'that you’ve worn otf all the leathers. 
And ’tis bald us any pate. 
i Jould that breast by thee worn barren, 
Ruder hea\ y weight* be put. 
It would show a stout resistance, 
Of a ton to the square foot, 
Oh, ’tis hard to tear asunder 
Fond attachments of the heart! 
But with a strong yoke of oxen 
1 could not pull thee apart. 
There are words of deep emotion, 
That most any thing subdue; 
But there’s no language so tender 
That, old hen, will soften you. 
—Weekly Gate City. 
YKSTKHDAY AND TO-DAY. 
“ hole on dar,” said a colored man, hailing aa 
acquaintance. “ Does yer cross de street ebery 
time yer sees me ter keep rrum payin’ dat bill ?” 
“ No, l doesn’t.’’ 
“ What lur. den V” 
Ter keep Horn bein’ axed lur hit.” 
••Mr. Napoleon,” said the creditor, “ l lent yer 
$10 three weeks ago. Yer promised an’ promised 
ter pay me. De udder day you say dat ’pon yer 
word uu honor as a geuTcman yer’d pay me ter 
day. Now, whul’s yer got ter say ?” 
“1 al'ers serves my honor. Yer’s getting yer 
lack of flosofy aud my honor mixed.” 
« now’s dat?” 
“ Doan yer know dat de Oder day all de time In 
town was changed? Da roun’ dat de time was 
wrong ati’ (ley sent off au got what da calls 
a t ransit apparatus. Since den all de watches an’ 
clocks hab been overhauled. Hit hab been foun 
dat our time Is gls one day too fast.” 
•• Dat’s got nuthln’ ter do wld my money.’’ 
“ course li hab. I promised ter pay yer ter day. 
The overhaulin' oh der time shows dat dls ain’t ter 
day.” 
•* now does yer make dat 
“ Why dls Is ter-monw. Doan yer see ! Let 
me tell yer, If yer goes roun’ dls town showin’ 
such Igmiuce Ob flosofy de people will laugh 
at yer.” 
“ When is yer going ter pay me ?" 
“ Jes ex soon ex we kin git the time straightened 
up. Da’s workln’ on It now. Jes take my advice, 
fur et de people oust gits it inter dar heads dat a 
man Is a fool, ten years ob knowledge won’t change 
It.—Little Rock (Ark) Gazette. 
DOW TO AbK AND HAVE. 
’* Oh. ’tie time 1 should talk to your mother. 
Sweet Mary,” eaya I; 
“ Oh, don't talk to my mother," sayB Mary, 
Beginning to cry; 
•• For my mother says men are deceivers, 
And never, 1 know, will consent; 
She says girls in a hurry who marry 
At leisure repent.” 
’* Then, suppose I would talk to your lather. 
Sweet Mary," says I; 
*’ Oh. don’t talk to my father,” says Mary, 
Beginning to cry; 
For my father, he loves me so dearly, 
He’ll never consent I should go¬ 
lf you talk to my father,’’ says Mary, 
He'll surely say * No ?' ” 
•* Then how shall I get you, my Jewel Y 
Sweet Mary," 61; 
“ If your father and mother’s eo cruel, 
Moet surely I’ll die 1” 
“ Oh,never oay die. dear." says Mary; 
“ a way to Bave you, l see, 
Since my parents are both so contrary— 
You’d better ask me.” -Samuel Lover. 
FINE COOKING. 
The dissatisfied hoarders at Mrs. O’Rourke’s 
house on Howard street were very much aston¬ 
ished the other day at beholding tnat amiable 
landlady bring in a leg of mutton In which were 
stuck a numoer of pcaooek feathers, supple¬ 
mented toy a du xxling array of gilt pasteboard 
stars. 
•• Begorra, we’ll have no more grumbling about 
plain cooking lu the house. Look at that, now! 
Can they hate that at the Poodle Dog, wld all their 
parley voo fixings ? Ye’ll folnd I kin he as Frlnch 
as the blst uv them, d'ye motnd that!” 
ODE TO A FI6H WORM. 
Unlucky creature! WUou the cruel hook 
Impales thee, ere I plunge thee in the brook, 
Thou canst notby au agonixing yell. 
The fearful tortures t hou emlurest toll. 
Thou canst. not, by thy countenance, express 
Thy awful Buffering and dire distress. 
’Tis only in thy power to twist ami squirm, 
But I can tell what that dost moan. O worm '. 
And shall I all this pain inflict on thee ? 
No; I’ll show niorey—Ha! What do I see 
In yonder pool so deep '/ It is a trout! 
A big throe-pounder ! I must have him out! 
Fur what are you to such a prize, O worm ? 
Thy hour has oooie ! Get on that hook! Don’t squirm! 
Ha! You resist me? 'Twill avail time naught. 
That trout still waits for then. It must be caught— 
Oil, drat ! I’ve dropped the worm, aud too, by snum, 
That missed hook I’ve baited with my thumb! 
Confound the thing! I've lost that worm, aud more, 
The trout made oil the minute that I swore. 
THE ENGLISH SI AllltOWH. 
" No whou in bed at morn I lie. 
And twist, and turn, and vainly try 
To get an extra forty winks, 
'Tie then, 0 sparrow ! that mr-thiuke. 
While listening to your chattering song 
More titueful than a Chinese iroug 
I’d like to stroke youv downy coat. 
And put my hand upon your throat, 
And wring your neck—though ne’er were heard 
Again your song, dear sparrow bird.” 
—Boston Transcript. 
Oh, wad some power the gil'tle gie us. 
To treat the musquito as the musquito treats us, 
It would frac manifold sufferings free us, 
And give our nails a chance to grow. 
—Saudie Stone. 
— -♦♦♦- 
THE EYE OPENER. 
The United States Washing Machine, made by 
Lyman & Co., 104 and 100 John Street, this City, 
and largely advertised throughout the country by 
means of circulars and postal cards, Is a worthless 
humbug for all practical purposes. Wo are con¬ 
stantly receiving Inquiries about this thing and 
trust this notice will be sufficient for at least a 
month or two.N. S. Mayes a Co., Sweet¬ 
water. Tenth, are again lloodlug the country with 
circulars advertising a recipe lor making sorghum 
sugar; Normandy White Corn, Mammoth spring 
Wheat, Peach Tomato, oto , etc. m answer to an 
inquiry, n truswortby gentleman In that town 
writes us that no such circulars are distributed 
lu that section, and that the whole advertisement 
Is, of course, a humbug. With the sale or 
harvest products, swindlers are already sending 
out advertisements, especially through the West 
and South, offering glorious oTances for realizing 
fort unes for a small sum entrusted to their care. 
The alluilng schemes are generally based on tho 
same principles as the “ put,” *' cull ” and "strad¬ 
dle” swindles exposed here at length last Spring 
except that grain and cotton, and sometimes pork 
or other products are substituted for railroad and 
other stock. Of course, any sensible man will 
have nothing whatever to do with such knaves, 
however plausible their schemes and the presenta¬ 
tion thereof.Au electric lamp for #t, is a 
Chicago numbur In that the handsome advertise¬ 
ment that sols forth Its brilliant merits leads the 
reader to believe the lamp will be complete on its 
arrival; whereas It’s the glass and stand aloue 
that are sold—and the buyer too. With tUese la 
sent another circular offering ready-made electric 
batteries, or the materials for making them, lor an 
additional sum, the clumsy lamp being per¬ 
fectly useless without the electric apparatus. The 
whole tiling la a fraud, aud "The scientific Toy 
and General Novelty Co., who make It, a rascally 
concern.Boyd’s Electric battery was ex¬ 
posed here as a humbug several times In the 
Spring and early Summer, yet folks persist In 
sending us additional inquiries about the tiling. 
Two other humbugs of the same nature are Dr. 
Rhodes’ Electric Transfusing Battery, and ‘‘Pro¬ 
fessor ” oauldwell’s Magnetic Galvanic Battery. 
These bear so strong a resemblance to the Boyd 
humbug that one would be Justified in believing 
them identical, the names of batteries and adver¬ 
tisers alone having been changed. At any rate 
they all three belong to the same disreputable 
family. 
IDLERS, TO THE FIELDS! 
Tun professions are full. “ There is always room 
at the top,” but In them there 1s no vacant place 
which the man of ordinary gifts may hope to fill. 
Lawyers without briers, clergymen without con¬ 
gregations, physicians without living patients- 
certainly we have enough and to spare of these in 
every city and village. 
“ Living by one’s wits,” which has been to many 
a pleasant and profitable business lu times past, is 
not now an Inviting one. Money Is too scarce, 
people are too suspicious, too cautious, too calcu- 
latlng. We want no more merchants. Every vil¬ 
lage has two where there should be but one, and 
our cities swam with bankrupttraders and starv¬ 
ing clerks. 
It used to he said that ” he who has a trade Is 
sale.” He was, once, it is true; but everybody 
knows he is not now. A large percentage of the 
men now out of employment, are skilled artisans, 
who, through long years oi experience have be¬ 
come good carpenters and masons and millwrights 
and shop hands. They are Idle now, not because 
they are not good workmen or because there is 
not work to be done, but because machinery la 
doing the work they used to do. 
statistician tells ub there are In use In this coun¬ 
try alone loo.oao planing machines, wblch, when 
In operation, do the wotk of 10 oou.uuo carpenters 
shoving laboriously tho old-fashioned Implement 
for making bhavings; In other words, that ODe of 
these machines will turn out Just as much finished 
work per diem aa 400 men, skilled In that partleu- 
lar form of Industry. The same authorities Inform 
us that the number of sewing machines In the 
country Is about 4,ono,ono, capable ot performing 
the work or 100 , 000,000 sewlng-glrls, operating with 
needle and thread by hand; that a single boot and 
shoe factory lu Massachusetts averages tho pro¬ 
duction of o.ooo pairs of pedal coverings daily 
throughout tho year ; that when runutng MIL the 
1 , 800,000 cotton spindles of Fall Rtver manufacture 
more yarn In one day than 0 , 000,000 persobs could 
do in the same time, the latter operating with the 
old-time spinning wheel. 
To issue loo.oou copies of a newspaper dally, us¬ 
ing the appliances or fifty years ago. would re¬ 
quire the making up of iso “forms,” and the ser¬ 
vices ot T,000 compositors and l.ot'O pressmen. Ink¬ 
ers. etc. AU this makes clothing and houses and 
reading and other necessaries of life cheap, hut It 
has reduced the demand for skilled mechanical 
labor to a mere fraction of what It would have 
been had "tho human mschlne" been left to do 
the world’s work alone. 
And now the population of the earth, or of our 
country at least, must shape Us labors to meet the 
changed condition of things. The young man who 
stands upon the threshold of active life querying 
what ho shall do. findu. aa we have sold, tho pro¬ 
fessions full, the stores and exchanges swarming 
with bankrupts, and the way to the factories and 
shops crowded with Idlers who only want an ap- 
portunlty to work. 
But the fields are not,mil. If our counters are 
flLled with goods for which there Is no demand 
and our cities are rull of houses for which there 
are no tenants there Is no glut of food In any of 
our markets, and for all which labor can coax 
from the earth, for everything which the Intelli¬ 
gent worker can gather from the soil there Is a 
call. There Is one calling which Is not full. New 
tlampshlnf, which posses for an agricultural 
State, produces but three-fourths ot the food she 
consumes, aud leaves thousands of acres of her 
Boll to grew up to bushes or to return less than 
half the crops they should. Aud while doing this, 
merchants stay behind their counters until the 
sheriff locks the door, mechanics stand about the 
street corners and complain because they can get 
no work, and young men grow Into chronic loafers 
because they can't “find an opening." And what 
Is true of our state is true of others. Isn't It about 
time there was a new departure, a turning from 
the factory to the field, from complaining aud suf¬ 
fering Idleness to cheerful, earnest, food pro¬ 
ducing work on the farm?—Mirror. 
If or Momen 
CONDUCTED BY MISS RAY CLARK. 
VIOLETS. 
Violets! violets 1 bring me blue \ iolets ! 
Violets wild as my own mountain air; 
Bring them tram shadow-nook, 
Down by the meadow brook. 
Home for my bosom and some for my hair. 
Violets! violets! bring mo blue violets I 
Violets wet with the sweet shining dew; 
Low where the zephyrs pass, 
Gay o’er tho (crowing grass. 
Lift they their faces, love, waiting for you. 
Violets ! violets ! bring me blue violets ! 
Violets fresh from the shadowy woods 1 
Life holds them slenderly. 
Gather them tenderly; 
I would have uo other roiiis it 1 could. 
Violets ! violets ! bring me blue violets '. 
Violets bright from tho far-forost gloom; 
8ho ot the golden hair 
Sought for thorn everywhere, 
Duly to garland herself for the tomb. 
So they are dear to mo, timid, wild violets ! 
Dearer than diamonds the costliest are; 
Bring them with tomlor hund 
Up from the shadow-land, 
Some for my bosom, and some for my hair. 
-- 
A PEE? INTO MY LIBRARY. 
It is not about books nor authors but about 
“ house millinery ” that I would dLscour.se, and if 
you will but ” step Into my parlor” gentle reader 
I will engage to snow you a lew artistic uddltles In 
the way 01 decoration. 
To begin with, the windows are my especial de¬ 
light and I have Indulged in no end of self glorifi¬ 
cation over them. 
I was sorely puzzled at first as to whether I 
could possibly get along without window drapery 
of some sort, and 1 had nearly decided in favor of 
linen curtains with antique lace, lnsertlona and 
borderlngs, wnen I was tempted to tty my hand 
at ” home made ” stained glass. 
I invested in some sheets or patented silk paper 
printed with brilliant oil colors—which comes for 
the purpose -and pasted them on me window 
glass. 1 had selected small designs In w bich crim¬ 
son and yellow predominates. The effect is ex¬ 
quisite and very closely resembles that of costly 
colored glass. I have neither blinds, shades, Dor 
curtains and yet the room is never unpleasantly 
light. 
Near the window stands a small table over 
whien Is thrown a table scarf. This is a halt yard 
wide and a yard and a quarter long, made ot old- 
gold satteen with abana of plush ar each end em¬ 
broidered in English orewels. On the table Is a 
Marguerite banner-screen made of old gold, satln- 
finlshed stuff and represents Marguerite straying 
beneath the forest trees, picking the petals from 
her daisy, while the softly blended lights of green 
and gold fall around her slonaer torrn. 
The mantel lambrequin is made to match the 
table sealf, as to materials and colors, lu ibis, 
the Hatteen has the siory 01 Cinderella worked in 
outline In panels with tue plush between. 
1 have- a book-ease of course but for tnat I am 
Indebted to the cabinet maker. Not so, however 
