GO CH EER! LY HOME.
The deer little wife at home. J oh'n,
With ever so much to do,
Stitches to set, and babies to pet,
And so many thoughts of you;
The beautiful household fairy,’
Filling your heart with light;
Whatever you meet today. John,
Go cheerily home twilight.
For though you are worn and weary,
You needn’t be cross or curt; .
There are words like darts to gentle hearts,
There are looks that wound and hurt.
With the key in the latch at home, John,
Drop the trouble out of sight;
' To the little wife who is waiting
Go chearily home tonight.
THE GllAlS’l‘ 0' GHAIRLEE.
The incident I am about to relate occurred
to myself when on a visit to an old house far
in the wilds of Rosshire. Scotland is the
land of visions. Few are the places that
have not some tradition attached to them.
Gloomy and grim stand the old houses,
and there is a cause for their forbidding as-
pect. The sullen shadow of past crimes hangs
over them.
Last autumn I was invited by my dear Old
friend, the Laird 0’ Ghairlee, to make one of a
shooting party assembling there. Sport is
good there, it anywhere; and, moreover, the
laird owned a covey of pretty daughters, who
would be. sure to make things lively and
pleasant.
I arrived. then, at Ghairlee station full of
hope and prepared for enjoyment. I l‘n‘ought
with me my guns and my beloved violin,
Without which I never travel.
Ghairlee itself is a curious old house; the
passages run about it in an extremely com-
plicated fashion, up one step to a room, down
two steps into it, and so on. The hall is a
portion of the old tOWer; the walls of im—
mense thickness. Many additions have been.
made by different lairds, long since gathered
to their fathers.
I did not see all this the night of my ar-
rival—in sooth, it was so dark that I could
distinguish very little as the dog cart spun
up the avenue; but I did notice the black
mass on my left as we turned a very sharp
corner round a block Of buildings, and on my
right, a sullen roar as if angry waters boiled
over in a torrent to dash upon rocks in the
dark depths, far, far below.
The next moment we drew up before the
door, barred and studded with great iron
nails. Light was pouring from the hall, and
the laird stood in the doorway surrounded
by a howling bodyguard of terriers.
“W'hist, dogs! Come in, laddie!”
And my old friend gathered me into his an-
cestral hall-with highland hospitality. “'9
passed up a low stairway, and across a thick-
ly carpeted corridor furnished with strange
pieces of antique workmanship—frowning
cabinets and carved chairs from which uncan-
ny faces lecred in the firelight. The drawing
room was at the far end and there were again
two or three steps leading to it alone. By
the side of these steps and against the wall
. stood a fine old press of marquetrie, quaint-
Iy inlaid and used, as I afterward lea " ,
for the stowing away of odds and on of
nothing and all things. It was here that my
violin soon found a place, and I laid it, in its
modern embroidered case, by the side of a
quaint old lute about which was twisted a
faded, moth eaten ribbon.
“This,” said the laird’s pretty daughter,
touching it reverently, “has a history. lVe
keep it here—pretty as it is—because none of
us like to look on it”—— But all this be-
longs elsewhere in my story.
Report had not exaggerated the charms of
the old laird’s daughters. Four of them he
had—the youngest, a charming child—the
eldest, already appropriated. But there re-
mained the adorable second and the exquisite
third, and after a day of painful uncertainty
I fell before the first of these two, who was
called by the tuneful name of Mavis, and
who had a musical fever akin to my own.
Together we trilled and tummed and turned
leaves and played love songs and madrigals,
serenades and sonatas, and when we did not
play we talked music, and when we did not
talk music, we talked-ah well! suflice it to
say that the days hurried by and the weeks
flew after them and I had been a guest at
Ghairlee nigh on to a second month, and my
heart belonged to Mavis.
The cream of the shooting was over and
the party much diminished. One or two men
only remained beside myself, and a pretty
young woman—a neighbor of the laird’s who
had come 1‘ ar atwo weeks’ visit. \Ve were
gathered in the drawing room and somebody
asked for music. i went out to the fire
lighted hall to the old cabinet to get my
violin, and Mavis went with me. We linger-
ed there, alone, for a moment just for the
sake of lingering. It was then Mavis spoke
about the into. I took it in my hands and,
as I did so, a thin, faraway wail of melody
seemed to sweep past us and lose itself in the
dimnem beyond the glow of the firelight.
“What was that?” I asked, sharply. Then,
seeing that Mavis only trembled in reply, I
added, quickly: “I must have jarred the old
thing.”
“Put it down,” said Mavis; “it is uncanny.
We never touch it. It belonged to the Ghaist
o’ Ghairlee l" '
“To the ghaist!” cried I, laughing-perhaps
not altogether heartily—for though I cer-
tainly did not believe in ghosts, there had
been something in that wailing strain to set
one’s nerves on a quiver; “you Scotch lassies,
forsooth, must still believe in your ghaistsl
There was never a decent bluided Highland
body without a ghaist in his castle! You
must introduce me some day to yours!” And
so, laughing and teasing her to bring back
the roses to her cheeks, if, indeed, I could, I.
led her again to the drawing room, where a
merry crowd and an hour or two of my be-
loved music with my dear violin soon chased
the Ghaist o' Ghairlee from my thoughts.
My rooms were in the tower—in that same
black pile of stone round which I swept on
the evening of my arrival, and my windows
looked out over the torrent which roared its
way ceaselessly from rock to rock to a shud-
dering depth, and then tore on in a dark
sullen stream.
I bade Mavis good night with a. hurried
pressure of her little fingers—for they all
stood around us in the drawing room and
she did not offer to go out into the hall, and
then I sprang lightly up the steps, humming
a strain of the bit of Beethoven we had been
going over.
The large corridor was illuminated by a
lamp. A smaller passage led away from it,
and my room opened into this passage——now
in profound darkness. There Were candle-
sticks on a table'at the head of the flight of
steps, but after I found out the way to my
rooms and had grown accustomed to it, I
rarely stopped to light one. To-night I made
no exception to this custom, and went swing-
ing down the passage toward my door.
I had found it, and was about to turn the
handle when I saw before me, a few feet d'm-
tant, a man crouching, with his ear close
against the wall level with my door. He
slowly turned his head and stared straight at
me. A more evil expression I had never en-
countered, so full was it of threatening hate
and devilish purpose.
I stood fascinated, . watching the man.
Presently, with hand outspread feeling along
the wall, he began creeping toward me; at
the same moment the dismal howling of a
dog, apparently in one of the rooms, became
, audible. This sound and the action on his
part seemed to release my faculties. ashed
at “him—made a grab at his coat—struck the
wall; the man was gone!
I stood stupidly; the passage was dark as
pitch. Could he have slipped aside, and be
waiting to strike?
Then—then, with a. revulsion that sent my
blood curdling back to my heart, it shot
through me:
How did I see him, being in the dark?
That he was there for no good was suffi-
ciently demonstrated; but how could I have
as it broke upon me that the man I had be-
held was not included in the census of this
planet. I felt a tingling in my limbs and a
buzzing in my ears. The sensation was
physical only—mentally, I may say there
was a complete and instant blank.
As the shockpassed over I pulled myself to-
gether and retraced my steps down the pas-
sage and into the drawing room. It seemed
strange, that lighted room and the common-
place occupants.
My step had been almost noiseless on the
thick carpet of the corridor, and no one had
noticed my approach. I stood, perhaps, for
five minutes in the doorway, shadowed by a.
portiere, and gradually the perfectly natural
and human expression of the room and the
.people, chatting pleasantly, with the clear
lamplight full upon their familiar faces, so-
bered my excited senses, and I began to feel
that I had come very near making myself
supremely ridiculous. \Vhat I saw—or rather
what I now believed I had fancied I sax ’——
was one of those strange optical illusions,
bOf’n of mental exaltation, and taking, as is
usually the case, a most unexpected and un-
familiar form., I had been carried away by
..the music—by the presence and close sym-
pathy of the girl I deeply loved and I had
seen—no heaven born vision—but something
directly opposed to every image which, just
then, should have possessed my mental vision.
I had seen a stealthy, creeping, lurking, mur-
derous~yesi murderous—that is what was
written in every line Of the evil face and
crouching form—murder!
I shuddered from head to foot.
Then I pulled myself together again, and
thankful that my return to the drawing room
had been unobserved, I determined to depart
as quietly as I had come. This I managed
successfully, and lighting a candle this time
at the head of the staircase, I entered the
passage leadmg to my room and reached it in
my usual prosaic manner. Although now
thoroughly convinced that I had been the
victim of a temporary hallucination, I felt by
no means comfortable. My new accomplish-
ment was not an agreeable one, and my
nerves were badly shaken.
, “Fool!” I apostrophized myself politely,
and glad, after all, that I had not absolutely
appeared one in the eyes of Mavis and her
family, I began to undress. First, however,
I searched my sleeping and dressing rooms
thoroughly and found them quite free from
the presence of my ill looking friend of the
passage. The dressing room was a queer
little place—one of the few rooms of the
tower that had stood the ravages Of time and
the only one in the house that had not been,
from laird to laird,,added to and improved
upon. It was curious enough, and some of its
old worm eaten oak, had stood since the ear-
liest days of Ghairlee.
I went to bed and very soon, it seemed to
me, I fell asleep. Very soon, too, it seemed
to me, I was awakened by—I know not
what!
I sat up in bed and listened intently, thor-
oughly awake.
For several minutes I heard nothing.
Then the dismal howling of a dog came to
me, as if from the adjoining room—and yet
it had a smothered sound as if, although near
me, its howls were being stifled. Suddenly
this sound ceased, and then came a stealthy,
creeping sound, and I saw a. crouching figure
against my wall—the same figure, the same
evi‘l face now turned straight toward me, the
same murderous expression—all, as it had,
just as suddenly, appeared in the ball.
And my room was in perfect darkness.
But though the man continued to gaze
straight into my eyes he moved from, not
toward, me slowly and stealthily until he
reached the door leading into the dressing
room, and through this he disappeared.
IVith one bound I followed him. I forgot
the deadly fear that had seized upon me at
sight of this monster, as I believed him, of
my imagination. I rushed after him and
would have thrown myself upon him in
another instant, had not something rooted
me to the threshold powerless. In vain I
endeavored to move hand or limb, in vain I
attempted to cry aloud when I found myself
incapable Of motion—I stood as if chained—
gagged—helpless—speechless. And before
me crept the man, always skulking along the
wall.
Now my eyes traveled beyond him to divine
his destination, and there—before the mirror
of the old dressing table, with her bonny
brown hair all unbound and her little, white
bare feet, showing beneath her loose night
robe, and in her hands the old lute with a
pale ribbon wound about it, there—oh, my
God! stood Mavis! Kneeling besideher was
an old waiting woman. Even in my speech-
less agony I knew I paused, trying to place
her, but she was some one I could not remem-
ber to have seen about Ghairlee, Shestroked
and kissed her lady’s hand—my lady’s hand—
and seemed to say some soothing word, but
though I saw her lips moved, try as I would
I could hear no sounds.
I struggled frantically for the power to cry
aloud, but my tongue was held by some ter—
rible force I could neither save nor warn my
darling of that ghastly shadow that is creep-
ing nearer, ever nearer!
Merciful God!
Without a. sound—noiseless as fate—merci-
lwlwth giving—the figure rose from its
women. With some hideous gleaming weap-
on uplifted to strike, with his evil face dis-
torted by the passion and intent to kill re-
flected in all its ghastly horror in the long,
dim glass, into which my poor, lost Mavis
stared as if already stricken, the man stood
for an instant—enjoying in anticipation this
dark and bloody deed. Then there was a sud-
den flash as the thing he carried descended——
a. dull, crushing blow, and at last—too late—
my voice came to me. '
One shriek that should have rallied long
forgotten lairds to the defense and then—un-
consciousness.
When I opened my eyes, Mavis, my own
Mavis, stood beside me. Then I saw the
kindly face of the laird.
After a while, I told my story. Then he
told his.
Many years ago there was a Laird of
Ghairlee who had a. cruel, wicked brother.
This brother plottedto overthrow all who
stood in his way, but the laird was too
strong for him and found him out for a
wicked, murderous dog; so the gates of
Ghairlee were closed u on him. But though
he said nothing he wai until the laird was
away; and then he stole into the little assage
lea g to the tower rooms and hid} there,
and that night be murdered the laird’s young
bride when none was within call but the
feeple old {Evin woman}; ledd ”
er' . ure . ow r
thlo), 9 P00 Y:
behereelfl Bull
the ' in t
‘.. visisenou‘ like. , to
ylildgigpuld hag: mung; of
Dugald. Forw o
octobei',m" lifeline the Ghalst o’
Ghalrlee!”—London Society.
i
seen him? I experienced a curious sensation
crouching posture and stood behind the two
lioum' Emil . fffffbil‘itlwi
A Speculator’s Adventure. ‘
Little Johnny Dorlan, who lives at River-
side, N. J., yesterday owned a new straw
hat, a dime and a penny worn by current use
to silvery brightness. He tied the hat to a.
coat button, because a. light breeze was ruf-
fling the surface of the Passaic river, and
went down to the Erie railroad to watch the
trains passing. He had not wholly decided
what use to make of the dime, but he knew
very well how to put the cent Where it would
do the most good. He was acquainted with
a boy who was willing to pay two cents for
the coin if it was flattened under the wheels
of a train of cars, and Johnny, who is only 9
years of age, but has the financiering spirit
of Jay Gould, intended to invest his penny so
as to realize cent per cent profit. '
He reached a spot where there was nobody
to interfere with his speculation. An after-
noon train, on its way to Jersey City, and
not more than 200 yards distant, was run-
ning at high speed. Hastily selecting a coin,
he placed it on the rail. The train was very
close to the spot where he was standing
when he discovered that he had made a blun‘
der. The penny was still in his pocket, and
the conclusion was unavoidable that the
dime was in front of the locomotive.
Johnny rushed forward. It was an awful-
ly dangerous thing to do, but he was not a
boy to hesitate when ten cents were at stake.
An incautious step prostrated him, and the
wind from the whirling train tore his hat
from its fastening, carried it under the
wheels, and it was seen no more. His head
could not have been more than twelve inches
from the cars as they swept past. The dime
was not found. It had either been ground
out of recognition or it had stuck fast to one
of the wheels.
“So you lost ten cents and your hat by
your folly?" said a friend of the boy’s father
when he heard the story later in the day.
“Oh, no,” replied Johnny, weeping. “I
only lost nine cents and the hat. I flattened
the penny under the next train and sold it
for two cents.”—New York Sun.
The Flag of the Union.
Although the star Spangled banner was es-
tablished by resolution of congress J une 14,
1777, it Was not until forty-one years later
that the present method of signifying the
number of states by the number of stars was
adopted. It had long been obvious that a
new stripe could not be added for each. new
state without making the flag unsightly. The
stripes would either have to be narrowed or
else the field enlarged out of all proportion to
the Union. In 1818 Congressman Peter H,
Wendover, acting on the suggestion of Capt.
S. 0. Reid, famous for‘ his defense of the
privateer General Armstrong, advocated the
adoption of the present design.
Capt. Reid wanted all the stars grouped
into one big star. Mr. Wendover did not
press the adoption of this feature. He suc-
ceeded in defeating various compromise
schemes, among them one to have stripes for
the old and stars for the new states, and an—
other to limit the stars to the old-thirteen.
Still a third was to fix the stripes at an arbi-
trary number. Finally Mr. Wendover’s per-
sistency was rewarded by the passage by the
house of the following bill, which went
through the senate without dissent:
That from and after the 4th day of July
next the flag of the United States be thirteen
horizontal stripes, alternate red and white;
that the Union have twenty stars, white in a
blue field.
That on the admission of every new state
into the Union one star be added to the union
of the flag, and that such addition shall take
effect on the 4th of July next succeeding
such addition—Boston Transcript.
The Telephone Ear.
You have a. telephone ear. You may not
know it, but you have all the same. It is the
left ear, for it is on record that only a. very
small percentage of men or women use the
right ear at the telephone. As a matter of
fact, the telephone has suddenly come into
prominence as a medical proposition, and um
loss the scientists are mistaken the bulk of
men and women who use the telephone within
a'few years may expect to find themselves
rather hard of hearing in the left car. This
is because when using the telephone every
muscle and nerve of the ear is strained to
catch the faintest sound from the person
speaking at the other end. Dr. Oliver W.
Moore, the eminent eye and ear specialist,
was asked the other day if he had heard of
any cases of deafness from the telephone.
“It is rather difficult to state exactly,” he
replied. “I have seen where the repeated
sound of an instrument, or the repetition of
any sound, has caused deafness. Telegraph
operators are in danger of injuring their
sense of hearing. Boiler makers often suffer
from deafness. In the construction of boilers
it is necessary for one man to be inside of the
boiler and the other outside, and the inces-
sant noise caused by the riveting of the
boilers always causes either deafness or an
afi‘ection of the ear. As to the telephone, it
no doubt has the same effect. It is natural
and reasonable to suppose that a person
listening forasound, and not knowing the
moment when it will come, may injure the
. membrane of the ear, and in time this might
affect the hearing power.”—Albany Express.
An Accommodating Boss.
A gang of men, were at work on a city
street, when a slight, beardless y'outh laid
down his pick, and. approaching the foreman,
said to him:
“Can I take a fit, sir?”
“Take what?" asked the foreman.
"A fit—I feel one coming on,” replied the
young man, without emotion
“Why, certainly,” said the foreman.
So the young man walked over to a bit of
grass under a. leafy tree—it was a new street
in the suburbs—and had a fit. .
Then he 'went and Washed his face, came
back to'his place in the line, took up his pick
and struck into work. After the day’s work
Was over the young man said to the foreman:
“You don’t mind my having fits?"
“No—I guess not if you do a fair day’s
work.”
“Well, you see I usedto work for a butcher
an’ he wouldn’t let me take fits-said it inter-
fered with business—aw I thought you might
feel the same way about it.”
And the young man works hard with pick
and shovel and takes a. fit once in a while as
you or I might take a drink of water.—-Pitta-
burg Dispatch.
A Genuine Titian.
I was down to Conejos, in Southern Colo-
rado, a few weeks ago, and was invited to go
through the ancient adobe church and con-
vent there. On the walls in one of the rooms
I noticed a painting which seemed to be very
old. I asked the priest about it. and he told
me this story: “That picture is a genuine
Titian, and has been in this country over 300
years. It was brought from Spain by Sig,
JpSe Velcro, who came to Mexico soon after
the conquest. The picture passed into other
bands, and was eventually lost sight of.
When I took this charge, several years ago,
I found itstuck away in a dark corner, as
though considered werthlem Ibrought it to
ht, cleaned and framed it, and placed it
w~ ere it hangsnow. I learned its history bit
by bit, and its genuineness is well authenti-
cated.” The plctureis a portrait of St. Iago,
and inabout 2 by 8 feet. It would bring a
hbulouszum if put up for sale—Interview
in GloboDemoci-at.
_ hension of yours most truly,
Abbreviations.
Your man of business, as he goes flitting
about the country in the formation of his
deep designs, has very little time to waste,
as a rule, and of that little he throws the
minimum amount into the hotel registers.
The real wide awake traveler generally ab-
breviates the name of the place he hails from
when it is susceptible of abbreviation, and
some of these attempts at conciseness are
quite as startling as they are successful. The
man from La Crosse spells out the name of his
town in three letters, thus: La. X—and I am
told that down in La Crosse that short
handed characterization is universal. Kansas
City people frequently register from K. Cy,
which abbreviation the more busy among
them still further curtail to the two initials
K.C. Pgh is acommon combination for Pitts-
burgh. Chicagoans employ the four letters
Chgo, when they do not use the other four,
Chic.
Breezy people from Milwaukee consider the
syllable Mil. sufficiently expressive to locate
them, while gentlemen from far away Provi-
dence dip pen in ink to write the syllable
Prov., and Lexington, Ky., people put them-
selves down also in one syllable as from Lex.
Your Sioux Falls man, when he is in a hurry,
spells the first word in his town’s name pho-
netically, Su or 800, while the Sioux City
man also contracts his last word to Cy.
Travelers from New Orleans are as concise as
the Kansas citizens, and simply jot down the
initials N. 0. San Francisco is put down on
the register as San Fran, or Frisco; St. Louis
is contracted down to St. L.; Minneapolis is
squeezed down to I.Ipls., or Minn, and India-
napolis goes on record as Indpls. There are
a lot of other abbreviations of proper names
found on the hotel registers that are not given
in the back end of a geography, or eke a big
dictionary, and if a person is anxious to learn
short hand ina few easy lessons, a good place
for him to begin his studies is at a hotel
counter with the register for a text book.—
St. Paul Pioneer Press.
The Great Duke.
The Duke of Wellington received a letter,
when sitting in the house of lords, from the
eminent landscape designer and great author-
ity on botanical matters, J. C. London. The
duke had lost sight of him for some years. It
was a note to this effect: “My Lord Duke: It
would gratify me extremely if you would
permit me to visit Strathfleldsaye, at any
time convenient to your grace, and to inspect
the ‘Waterloo beeches.’ Your grace’s faith-
ful servant, J. C. London.” The Waterloo
beeches were trees that had been planted im-
mediately after the battle of Waterloo as a.
memorial of the great fight. The duke read
the letter twice, the writing of which was not
very clear; and, with his usual promptnws
and politeness, replied as follows, having read
the signature as “C. J. London,” instead of
“J. C. London”: '
My Dear Bishop of London:' It will always give
me great pleasure to see you at Strathfieidsaye.
Pray come there whenever it suits your con-
venience, whether I am at home or not. My serv- '
ant will receive orders to show you so many pairs
of breaches of mineas you wish; but why you
should wish to inspect those thatI were at the
battle of Waterloo is quite beyond the compre-
WELLINGTON.
Although the duke was by no means a wo-
man hater, he was the very reverse of a. cox-
comb, if we may believe the following very
strange and rather pathetic story;
A lady said to the duke: “I suppose, duke,
during your life you have inspired a great
deal of admiration and enthusiasm among
women, both abroad and at home.” The
duke at once replied: “Oh, yes, plenty of
that! plenty of that! but no woman ever
loved me; never in my whole life.”—Pall
Mall Gazette.
The Poorer Classes in Persia.
Touching the houses of the people and their
household properties, I once spent a night in
the house of a trooper of the shah. His pay
was £10 a year, with rations when on duty.
He gave me an excellent dinner in an upper
chamber, which was carpeted, and in the
niches of the false windows of which rose
leaves were piled up for fragrance. I do not
mean that the carpet was other than the
cheapest, or that the atmosphere was all of
rose leaves, but an English groom gets £12 a.
year, more or less, and I doubt if he indulges
in carpets and flowers. A few cooking uten-
sils, a brass tray or two, skins in which curds
are made and kept, a. loom, a sheet of leather
which serves for the floor (table) cloth—those
are the articles that furnish the ordinary
dwelling. If the householder be a. very poor
man he will eat his meat off big flaps of un-
leavened bread, and will eat, too, that which
serves him for a table cloth and is also the
bread which we find on our table cloths. You
break off a bit of bread and dip your hand in
the dish wherein are curds at any rate, and
possibly on feast days kid or fowL—Nino—
teenth Century.
Belgium’s Hatless Monarch.
Leopold, king of the Belgians, is asworn
foe of tobacco and an ardent supporter of
the Belgian Anti-tobacco league. He is, as
well, a man of “simple and severe way of
life.” He rises early, breakfasts sparingly,
and—a rare thing on the continent—takes his
morning tub with all an Englishman’s fervor.
His wide sympathies embrace vegetarianism
in their seeps, and his most notable passion,
perhaps, is for going about without a. hat.
Whenever the weather is suitable, King Leo-
pold goes abroad in his garden as hatless as
Adam, exulting in his freedom from the con-
ventionality of a headpiece. He has some
strange craze about the Wind’s action on the
brain, and he uts his craze in practice
whenever possib e. In fact, eccentricity of
the intelligent kind marked him for her own.
Heisalinguist of rare acquisitions, and is
always deep in the study of some new lan-
guage or other. Music is one of his aversions,
but the sister art of painting finds in him an
appreciative and enthusiastic amateur. His
face is strong and intelligent, without being
handsome, and a board of appropriately re-
gal length sweeps his chest—London Court
J ournai.
Conflicting Opinions.
Now that Wellesley is the subject, another
story or two, told by the college paper, may
be-iu order. A student says she overheard
this dialogue commencement day: _'
First Visitoré—What a wonderfully beauti-
ful place this Is!
Second Visitor—le
set of girls!
Another visitor evidently reached a differ-
ent conclusion, for one of the students showed
her about the college, but the lady, instead
of paying attention to what was said, gazed
at the student until the young woman asked
if there was anything more she could do for
her. “Yes,” said the lady; “would you mind
letting me know how it is you have remained
single so long ?”—-Boston Transcript.
But what a homely
Relics of Ancient Times.
-Mr. J. M. Caldwell, of Walton county, Ga..,
has a. Bible printed eighty years before Go-
lumbus discovered America, yellowed with
age; a large solid mahogany folding table
and bedstead and set of silver teaspoons, all
of which have been in his family over 1.50
years; a lamp 134 years old, with the chim-
my made with the burner and intended as a
lardlamp; pairofandironslw yearsold,nud
a ' jar about two centuries of age.—
Gh‘icego Tribune.
A $950 COTTAGE.
A Cheap and Tasteful Home for a Small
Family.
The attractive cottage shown here is taken
from an admirable book, of designs entitled
“Sensible Low Cost Houses,” published by the
National Architects’ union, of 927' Chestnut
street, Philadelphia. This cottage has been
designed specially for a small family, or
young couple wishing to build their first
home. The exterior effect is spacious, while
the interior is arranged with a view to com-
fort and a small amount of labor in the do-
mestic management.
VIEW
First Story—A square porch leads to a I
pleasant and well lighted hall, on the left of
which is the parlor, 13x15 feet. 'The kitchen,
or living room, 12x23 feet, extends the width
of the house, and can be used for both these
purposes, or the parlor can be used for 0. din-
ing and living room. The stairs to the base-
ment lead from the hall.
Second Story—This floor contains one large
bed chamber, 13x16 feet, and two smaller but
airy rooms, 9x10 feet, and 0x12 feet, with a
large closet in each.
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Nisa- . Bsnfiuom- ,_‘r_$
‘ . —
' FLOOR PLANS.
Materials—Foundation, rough stone or
brick;frame construction; first and second
stories and gables, clapboarded and paneled;
roof shingled. No attic—air space only.
Basement under main walls. Price, com-
plete, $950.
THIS WOULD COST $7,500.
Design for a Spacious and Convenient
Modern House.
The accompanying illustrations from The
Boston Globe show the first and second floor
plans and perspective view of a. modern
dwelling, of rather unique design. The cut
up of the rooms is quite simple, yet affords
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good accommodations. All the principal
rooms on the first floor may be thrown into
one large apartment by means of the wide
sliding doors. Several open grates afford
heat and ventilation. The commanding feat-
ure of the design, however, is the circular
Niche?
17mm
Slfhfig
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Parlor
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GROUND FLOOR.
tower, with its concentric piazza and bal-
cony. The house isfiOfeet long and 41 feet
widein extreme. The first storyis 10 feet
high and the second story 9 feet 6 inches.
With interior finish of modest pattern, some
hard wood, good plumbing, plate glass, eta,
sitcom STORY.
it would cost about $7,500 to build in the
vicinity of Boston. The plans were prepared;
by Architect Frank L. Smith, 22 School
street, Boston.
It has been calculated that the railroads of.
the world-are worth nearly three hundred;
billions of dollars, Or about one-tenth of the!
wealth of the civilized nations, or more than’
madman- of their invested capital. Ac}
thisr'ete, all the ready money in the world
Would buy only about one-thin! of them.
J ENKS’ DREAM.
Jenks had a queer dream the other night.
He thought he saw a prize-fighters’ ring. and
m the middle of it stood a doughty little
champion who met and deliberately knocked
over, one _by one. a score or more of big,
burly-looking fellows, as they advanced to
the. attack. Giants as they were in size, the
valiant igmy proved more than a match for
them. twas all so funny that Jcnks woke
up laughing. He accounts for the dream by
the fact that he had just come to the conclu-
sion, after trying nearly every big, drastic
ill on. the market, that Picrce's Pleasant
nrgative Pellets, or tiny Sugar-coated
Granules, easily “knock out” and beat a".
the big pills hollow! They are the original
and only genuine Little Liver Pills.
Beware of Imitations. which contain Poi-
sonous Minerals. Always ask for Dr. Picrce’s
Pellets, which are Little Sue‘ar-eoatml Pills,
or Anti-bilious Granules. One :1 Dose.
SILK diiiiflHE,
Bilions Headache,
Dizziness, Constipa-
tion, lludigestion, Bil-
, ions Attacks, and all de-
, rangenunts of the stomach
and bowels, are promptly
relieved and permanently
. cured by the use of Dr.
Picrce’s Pleasant Purgative Pellets. They
are gently laxative. or strongly cathartic,
according to size of dose. Smallest, Cheapest.
Easiest to take. 25 cents a vial. by druggists.
Copyright, 1888, by WORLD’S Disrnnsmr MED-
ICAL Assocruxon PropIi-hgors,
663MainSt..Bu o.
CATAHRH ”Y’s
Cream Balm
CURES
HAY
FEVER
AND
I Y-EEVER com in Head.
Aparticle is applied into each nostril and is
agreeable. Price 50 cents at Drugglsts; by mail,
reglstered, 60 em. ELY BROTHERS, 56 Warren
Street, New York. - 1y44
Our Eye Shines For All.
The best ten cent -,
cigar ever made is “i
now known as
SLEEPER’S
EYE.
and is sold by all
dealers everywhere
Ask forSIeepersEye
.l. l'~i“.v“I,4| ..
Trade-M ark.
S. S. SLEEPER & 00.. Factory, Boston.
Accidents happen,
and sickness comes,
to all, and yet many
people never have
on hand the means
to promptly relieve
the sufferings from
either. An inexpen-
sive and thoroughly
”liable safeguard is
Party Davis'
Pain [(i/ler.
which has stood for
49 years unrivaled.
For Cramps, Colic,
Cholera and all Sum-
mer Complaints it is
A SURE C URE.—.
Have it with you
at home and when
traveling. It is used
externally and in-
, ternally, and is just
the thing needed for
Gunman. “oases , QRMM’S . Come.
’ Bums, Bruises, Cuts,
Sprains, 81c.
For Sale at a Sacrifice.
Will be sold ifapplied for soon,
TEN ROOM COTTAGE.
within five minutes walk of the
bridge, with never failing well of
excellent water, and a. cistern
holding three hundred hogs-
heads, for laundry purposes
all modern improvements
conveniences, etc. Cost
owner $8,000, and
will be sold for
$5,000 with only
$1,500 down,
to satisfac-
tory party.
1m33 Enquireat Gama-x OFFICE.
Norwalk Chronicler