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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1888-10-25, Page 3"ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH." CHAPT1R Yl. TBIi onauivARI. Our is se l' i 'Tis w in vain tie si h For home or friends or oountr left pe hind. , y Come, drythose tears and lift the�downcaa � r To theehi h heaven of hoe, and be re g ei n'd; P Wisdomand time, will justify the: deed, The eye will cease to weep, the heart ,to bleed. Love's thrilling sympathies, affections pure All that endear'd and ballow'd your los .some, Slat on a broad foundation, firm and sure, Ltabliah peace; the wilderness become Deal' as the distant land you fondly prize, Or dearer visions that in memory rise. • • The moan of the wind tells of the Doming rain that it bears upon its: wings ; the deep stillness of the woode, and the lengthened shadows they cast upon the stream, silently but surely foreshadow the bursting of the thunder -aloud ; and who that has lived for any time upon the coast, can mistake the. language of the waves—that deep prophetio surging that ushers in the terrible gale? So it is with the, human heart—it has its mysterious warnings, its fits of sunshine and shade, of storm and calm, now elevated with anticipations of joy, now depressed by dark presentiments of ill. All who have ever trodden this earth, possessed of the powers of thought and re- flection, of tracing effects bank to their causes, have listened to these voices of the soul, and secretly acknowledged their power; bub few, very few, have had courage boldly to declare their belief in them ; the wisest and the best have given credence to them, and the; experience of every day proves their truth ; yea, the proverbs of past ages abound with allusions to the same subject, and though the worldly may sneer, and the good Ivan repudiate the belief in a theory whioh he considers dangerous, yet the former, when he appears led by an irresistible impulse to enter into some fortunate, but until then unthought of, speculation ; and the latter, when he devoutly exclaims that God has met him in prayer, unconsciously acknow- ledges the same spiritual agency. For my own part, I have no doubts upon the sub. jecb, and have found many times, and at different periods of my life, that the voice in the soul speaks truly ; that if we gave stricter heed to its mysterious warnings, we should be caved much after-aorrow. Well do 1 remember how sternly and solemnly this inward monitor warned me of approaching ill, the last night I spent at home ; how it strove to draw me back as from a fearful abyss, beseeching me not to li$ave England and emigrate to Canada, and how gladly would I have obeyed the injun°. tion had it still been in my power. 1 had bowed to a superior mandate, the command of duty, for my husband's sake, for the sake of the infant, whose little bosom heaved against my swelling heart, I had consented to bid adieu forever to my native shores, and ib seemed both useless and sinful to draw bank, I Yet, by what stern necessity were we driven forth to seek a new home amid the western wilds ? We were not compelled to emigrate. Bound to England by a thou- sand holy and endearing tiea, surrounded by a circle of ohoeen friends, and happy in each other's love, we possessed all that the world can bestow of good—but tuet►ge The paMigid economy, is too small to supply the wants of a family ; and if of a good family, not enough to maintain his original standing in society. True, it may find his children bread, it may clothe them indiffer- ently, but it leaven nothing for the indite pensible requirements of education, or the painful contingencies of sickness and mis- tortune. In such a case, it is both wise and right to emigrate ; Nature points it out as the only eafe remedy for the evils arising out of an over -dense population, and her advice is always founded upon justice and truth. Up to the period of wnioh I now speak, we had nob experienced much inconvenience from our very limited means. Our wants were few, and we enjoyed many of the com- forte and even some of the luxuries of life ; and all had gone on smoothly and lovingly with ns until the birth of our first child. It was then that prudence whispered to the father, " Yon are happy and contented now, but this cannot always last; the birth of that child, whom you have hailed with as much rapture as though she were born to inherit a noble estate, is to you the begin- ning of care. Y our family may increase, and your wants will increase in proportion ; out of what fund can you satisfy their demands ? Some provision must be made for the future, and made quickly, while youth and health enable you to combab successfully with the ills of life. When you married for inclina- tion, you knew that emigration meet be the result of such an act of imprudence in over- populated England. Up and be doing, while you still possess the means of transporting yourself to a land where the industrious can never lack bread, and where there is a chance that wealth and independence may reward virtuous toil. Alas! that truth should ever whisper such unpleasant realities to the lover of e;tse—to the poet, the author, the musician, the man of books, of refined taste and gentlemanly habits. Yet he took the hint, and began to bestir himself with the spirit and energy so characteristic of the glorious North, from whence he sprung. " The sac-rifice,' he said, " must bo made, and the sooner the better. My (dear wife, I feel confident that you will respond to the call of duty ; and hand-in-hand and heart in-hearb-we will go forth to meet difficulties. and, by the help of God, to subdue them." Dear husband 1 I take shame to myself' that my purpose was less firm, that my heart lingered so far behind yours in "prepar- ing for this great epoch in our lives that, like Lot's wife, 1 still turned and looked hack, and clung with all my strength to '• the land I wee leaving. It was not the hardships of an emi- grant's life I dreaded. I could bear mere physical privations philosophically, enough ; it was the loss of the Society in which I had moved, the want of congenial pursuits, that made me so reluctant to respond to my hus- band's ue• band' a rah. $ was theoun gest in a familyremarkable for their literarygattainments;and, while yet a child, I had mien riches melt away from our once prosperous home, as the Cana- dian snows dissolve beforo the first warm i days of spring, leaving the verdureless earth naked and bare. i There was, ho ever, a spirit in my family that rose superior to the crushing influences of adversity.•. Poverty, which se often de- p grades the weak mind, became their best teacher, the stern but fruitful parent of high resolve and tennabling thought. The very misfortunes that overwhelmed, became the source from whence they derived both energy and Strentrth, as the inundation of sonic? c mighty river fertilises the shores Duel+ tvhiob g II first spreads ruin and; desolation. With- out losing aught of their former position in society, they dared to be poor; to place mind above matter, and make the Valents with which the great Father had liberally endowed them, work out their appointed end. The world encored, and summer friends foraoole them;: they turned their backs upon the world, and upon the ephemeral tribes that live but in its smiles. From out the solitude in which they dwelt, their names went forth.' through the crowded cities of teat cold, sneering world, and were mentioned with respect by the wise, and good; and what they lost in wealth, they more than regained in well- earned reputation. Brought n in this school of self-denial, it would have been strange indeed if all its wise and holy pr000pba had brought forth no corresponding fruit. I endeavored to reconcile myself to the ohange that awaited me, to accommodate my mind and pursuits to the new position in which I found myself placed. Many a hard battle had we to fight with old prejudices, and many proud swellings of the heart to subdue, before we could feel the least interest in the Iand of our adcp tion, or look upon it as our home. All was new, strange, and distaateful to us ; we shrank from the rude, coarse famil- iarity of the uneducated people among whom we were thrown ; and they in return. view- ed us as innovators, who wished tocurtail their independence by expecting from them the kindly civilities and gentle courtesies of a more refined community. They consid- ered us proud ani shy, when we were only anxious not to give offence. The semi -bar- barous Yankee squatters, who had "lift their country for ,heir country's good," and by whom we we; surrounded in our first set- tlement, detested us, and with them we could have no feeling in common. We could neither lie nor cheat in our dealings with them ; and they despised us for our iguor- ance in trading and our want of smartness. The utter want of that common courtesy with which a well -brought up. European addresses the poorest of his . brethren, is severely felt at first by settlers in Canada. At the period of which I am now speaking the titles of "sir," or "madam," were very rarely applied by inferiors. They entered your house without knocking ; and while boasting of their freedom, violated one of its dearest laws, which considers even the cottage of the poorest labourer his castle, and his privacy sacred. "Is your man to hum?"—" Is the woman within ?" were the general inquiries made to me by such guests, while my bare- legged, ragged Irish servants were always spoken to as "sir" and "mem," as if to make the distinction more pointed. Why they treated our claims to their respect with ma rked insult and rudeness, I never could satisfactorily determine, in any way that could reflect honour on the species, or even dead an excuse for its brutality, until 1 found that this insolence was more generally practised by the low, uneducated emigrants from Britain, who better understood your claims to their civility. than by the natives themselves. Then I discovered the secret. The unnatural restraint which society imposes upon these people at home forces them to treat their more fortunate brethren with a servile deference which is repugnant to their feelings, a is thrust upon them by the dependent air instances in which they are placed. .'hhle homage to rank and edit - 's - sincere. Hatred and envy lie heti: hearts, althoughidrten.- v outward obsegntousuees. anemias compels their obedience ; they fawn, and cringe, and flatter the wealth on which they depend for bread. But let them once emigrate, the clog which fettered them is suddenly re- moved ; they are free ; and the dearest prix ilege of this freedom is to wreck upon their superiors the long•locked-rip hatred of their hearta, They think they can debase you to their level by disallowing all your claims to distinction ; while they hope to exalt themselves and their fellows into ladies and gentlemen by sinking you back to the only title you received from Nature— plain "man" and "woman." Oh, how much more honourable than their vulgar prebentions! I never knew the real dignity of these simple epithets until they were insultingly thrust upon ns by the working -classes of Canada. Bat from this folly the native-born Cana- dian is exempt ; it is'only practised by the 1ow.born Yankee, or the Yankeefied British peasantry and mechanics. It originates in the enormous reaction springing out of a sudden emancipation from a state of utter dependence into one of unrestrained liberty. As such, I not only excuse, but forgive it, for the principle is founded in nature ; and, however disgusting and distasteful to those accustomed to different treatment from their inferiors, it is better than a hollow profession of duty and attachment urged upon us by a false and unnatural position. Still, it is very irksome until you tnink more deeply upon it ; and then it serves to amuse rather than to irritate. And here I would observe, before quitting this subject, that of all follies, that of taking out servants from the old country is one of the greatest,tand is sure to end in the loss of the money expended in their passage, and to' beoome the cause of deep disappoint- ment and mortification to yourself. They no sooner set toot upon the Canadian shores than they become poaeessed with this ultra -republican spirit. All respect for their o nployere, all subordination is at au end ; the very air of Cannda severs the tie of mutual obligation which bound you to- gether. They fancy themselves not only equal to you in rank, but that ignorance and vulgarity give them superior claims of notice. They demand' the highest wages, and grumble at doing half the work, in re- turn, which they cheerfully performed at home., They demand to eat at your table, and to sit in your company, and if you re- fuse to listen to their dishonest and extrava- gant claims, they tell you that " they are free; that no contract made in the old country is binding in ' Meriky ;' that you may look out for another person to fill their place as soon as von like ; and that you may get the money expended in their passage and outfit in the best manner you can," • was untortunate.y persuaded to take out a woman with me as a nurse for my in the voyage,as I was in child during ver poor health ; and her conduct, and the trouble. and expense she occasioned, were a perfect illustration of what I have described, When we consider the different position n whioh servants are placed in tho old and new world, this conduct, ungrateful as t then appeared to me, ought not to create t he least surprise. In Britain, for instance, they are too often dependent upon the ca- rica of their employers for bread. Their wages are low ; their moral londition still lower. , They are brought up hi the most servile fear of the higher classes, and they feel most keenly their hopelesn degradation, for no effort ort their part can better their onditlon. They know that if once they et a bad ohataoter they frust starve or teal.:; and to this eonviotieh we are indebt- ed f9r a great deal of their seeming fidelity and long and laborious servioo in our families, whioh we owe less to any moral peroeption on their port of the superior kindness or excellence of their.em pgoy l vera thanto the mere feeling of assurance, that as long `til they do their work well, and are cheerful and obedient, they will be puncta ally paid their wages, and well housed and. fed. Ilpy is it • for them and their masters when even this selfish bond of union exists between them 1 But in Canada the state of things in this respect is wholly reversed. The serving plass, comparatively speaking, is email, and admits of little' competition. Servants that understand the work of the country are not easily prooured, and such always can oom• mend the highest wages, The possession of a good servant is such an addition to oom fort, that they are persons of no small cop-: sequence, for the dread of starving no longer frightens them into servile obedience. They can live without you, and they well know. that you cannot do without them. If you atempt to practice upon them that com- mon vile of English mistresses, to scold them for any alight omission or offence, you rouse' into active operation all their new-found spirit of freedom and opposition. They to n up ne you with a torrent of abuse; they dt ma nit their wages, and declare their intention of quitting you instantly. The more inconvenient the time for you, the more bitter become their insulting re- marks. They toll you, with a high hand. that "they, are as good as you; that they oan get twenty better places by thomorrow, and that they don't care a snap for your anger." And away they bounce, leaving you to finish a large wash, or a heavy job of ironing, in the best way you oan. When they look upon such conduct as the reaction arising out of their former state, we cannot so much blame them, and are obliged to ownthat ib is the natural result of a sudden emancipation from former restraint. With all their insolent airs of independence, I must .confess that I prefer the Canadian to the European servant. If they turn out good and faithful, it springs more from real respect and affection, and you possess in your domestio a vahiabl3' assistant and friend ; but this will never be the case with a servant brought out with you from the old country, for the reasons beforo assigned. The happy independence enjoyed in this highly -favoured land as no- where better illustrated than in the fact that no domestio can be treated with cruelty or insolence by an nnbenovolenb or arrogant master. Forty years has mane as great a difference in the state of sooiety in Canada as it has in its commercial and political importance, When we came to the Canticles, society was composed of elements which did not al- ways amalgamate in the best possible manner. The Canadian women, while they retain the bloom and freshness of youth, are ex- ceedingly pretty ; but these charms soon fade, owing, perhaps, to the fierce extremes of their climate, or the withering effect of the dry, metallic air of stoves, and their go- ing too early into company and being ex- posed, while yet children, to the noxious in- fluence of late hours, and the sudden change from heated rooms to the cold, biting bitter winter blast. Though small in stature, they are general- ly well and symmetrically formed, and possess a graceful, easy carriage. The early age at which they marry and are introduced into society, takes from them all awkward- ness and restraint. They have excellent practical abilities render them intellectuarana charming com- panions. At present, too many of these truly lovely girls remind one of choice flowers half buried in weeds. Music and dancing are their chief ac- cemp1ishments. Though possessing an ex- cellent general taste for music, ib is seldom in their power to bestow upon its study the time which is required to make a really good musician. They are admirable proficients in the other art, which they acquire readily, with the leatt instruction, often without any instruction at all, beyond that which is given almost intuitively by a good ear for time, and a quick perception of the harmony of motion. The waltz is their favorite dance, in which old and young join with the greatest avidity; it is not unusual to see parents and their grown-up children dancing in the same set in a public ball -room. On entering one of the public ballrooms, e stranger would be delighted with such a display of pretty faces and neat figures. I have hardly ever seen a really plain Canadi- an girl in her teens; and a downright ugly one is almost unknown. The high cheek -bones, wide mouth, and turned-ap nose of the Saxon race, eo common among the lower classes in Britain, are here succeeded in the next generation, by the small oval face, straight nose, and beauti- fully -out mouth of the American ; while the glowing tint of the Albion rose pales before the withering influence of late hours and stave heat. They are naturally a •fine people, and possess capabilities and talents, which when improved by cultivation will render them second to no people in the •world; and that period is not far distant. To the benevolent philanthropist, whose heart has bled over the misery and pauper- ism of the lower classes in Great Britain, the almost entire absence of -mendicity from Canada would be highly gratifying. Can- ada has few, if any, native beggars; her objects of charity are generally imported from the .mother country, "and these are never suffered to want food or clothing. The Canadians are a truly charitable people, no person in distress is driven with harsh and cruel language from their doors ; they not only generously relieve the wants of suffering strangers cast upon their bounty, but they nurse them in sickness, and use every means in their power to procure them employment. The number of orphan ohild- ?en yearly adopted by wealthy Canadians, and treated in every respect as their own, is almost incredible. It is a glorious .country for the labouring classes, for, while blessed with health, they are always certain of employment, and cer- tain also to derive from it ample means of support for their families. An;induetrious, hard-working matt in a:few years is able to purchase from hie savings a homestead of his own; and in prover. of time becomes one of the moat import at and o p prosperous class of settlers in Cana a, her free and in- dependent yeomen, who f.>rm the bones and sinews of this rising country, and frena among whom she already begins to draw her Senators, while their educated sons become the aristocrats of the rising genera. tion. It has often been remarked to me by people long resident in the colony, that thee° who come to the country destitute of moansbut able and willing to work, invari- ably improve their condition and become independent ; while the gentleman who brings out with him a email capital is too often tricked and cheated out of his proper- ty, and drawn into rash and dangerous speculations which terminate in his ruin. His 'children, neglected and uneducated but brought up with ideas far beyond then' means, and offered to waste their time in idleness, seldom take to work, and pot un frequently: sink down to the lowest depths.. It was towards the close of the summer of 1833, which had been unusually gold and wet for Canada, while Moodie was absent at D inspeotng a portion of his government grant of land,•that I was start- led one night, just before retiring to rest, by the sudden firing of guns in our near vioinity, accompanied by, shouts and yells, the braying of horns, the beating.of drums and the barking of all the dogs in the. neighbourhood. I never heard a more stun- ning uproar of discordant and hideou sounds. W hat could it all mean ?: The maid ser vant, as much alarmed as myself, opened the door and listen • "The goodness defend us 1'' she ex- claimed, quickly closing it, and drawing a bolt seldom used. " We shall be murdered. The Yankees must have taken Canada, and are marching hither," "Noneenae 1 that cannot be. Besides, they would never leave the main road to at• tack a poor plane like this, Yet the noise is very near. Hark 1 they are firing again. Bring me the hammer and some nails, and let us secure the windows." The next moment I laughed at my folly in attempting to secure a log hut, when the application of a match to it, rotten walls would oonaume it in a few minutes. Still, as the noise increased, I was really fright- ened. My-aervant,. who was Irish (for my Scotch girl, 33811, hadtaken to herself a hus- band, and I had been obliged to hire an- other in her place, who had been only a few days in the country), began to cry and wring her hands, and lament her hard fate in coming to Canada. (To DE CONTINUED.) True Womanhood. w. e, sTmvsrs.'' 1 musa'b allow tate thought to go In those dark ways that eyes have wandered ; 1 will nut deal the orusl blow— Eyes would but weep for women's woe, For 1oolitb women who nave blundered. .1 have some women in my eye Who think themselves the list of women, Whose weaknesses 1'11 not descry, But kindly let them all pass by Lest I should make worse than foemen. If to some woman I am plain It is not done with ill intention, And if perchance I cause some pain It is that womanhood must reign Exalted in our apprehension. I love to see her in her plane, With woman's tender love and breeding, With love-ilt beauty in her face Shining out, with lustrous grace, A queen, above all else ex seeding. To look into a woman's eye And see a mirror tteere reflecting An image back to you and I Of true womanhood you can't deny Is otherwise theta meet afscting. Of such a womanhood I'll slug In numbers which are sweee and tender ; To her my manhood I will bring, Its head and heart for offering In homage to her queenly spl.ndour. Such a womanhood is dear to me 1 She beautifies trio common places 1 She lifted up humanity 1 With softer, queenly signity Every little act she grapes 1 Love is the Light. 3Y 11. A. MORRISON. Ltoking tor the light, my Soul, this morning, The light of the Life in the Light of God ? Tu n thy vision where iba rays adorning— Scatter its benisons all abroad. Darkaeee and sorrow fn them bath a birth ; Radiant domes of life enwreath thee,— None have.a sourer+ in the deathful Earth. Lift thine eyes to the Heaven above thee.— Away from the din, the moil, and the ettife.— Ilead the message :—"Thy Lord doth Lore rhes' Love is the light of His perfect life. Queen of Canadian Dells. ET BRRear B. Le1611. Whither, Ontario ? Whither so mad, B.cileth thy wild, turbulent tide? All foaming and frantic, joyous and glad Toll me whither thy white caps ride ? Why do yon question my silvery spray ? Swiftepeeding with rapturous glee, About Isar Toronto's bosom to play, In sprinkling brilliancy. Laing have I loved my spray -washed The queen of Canadian delle, For oft has ebe chanted my re+tiess tide, To sleep with her sweet Sanbath bells. Oft have I mirror'd her beautiful face, And reflected her queenly form ; Oft have I murmured her virtuous grace, And sung of her love in a storm. Oft have I danc'd to her radiant halls, Nobility, genius and truth ; Oft have I borne to her sheltering walls, The bandsmen of tyrants uncouth. Oft have I floated her sweet -scented flowers, Far over my billowy swells ; And rippled her praises in Bummer showers,; My412asen of Canadian dells. Her heart and ravine are deep and sublime,. The gems of her baeom are pure ; In refinement's gold her culture will shine, Like abar-clusters forevermore I The Old Man's Appreoiation of His Spunky Boy. Father—"So, my son, youhave beenfight- ingg again, eh ?" Bob—"Yes, father, I had a short set-to with Jinn Billings this morning." k' rather-"We11, you remember our last conversation on this subject, do you not ?" Eob-"i os, father, you said that you would whale die till I couldn't move." Father—"Ah, your memory, I semis still stood. Go get the rawhide. Thanks. Now, before begin thiedisagreeablethsk I should like to have your story, and also know how many times you struck the Billings boy, for if I remember aright I promised you two cuts of the rawhide for every time that you hit a companion." Bob—"Well, it was this way. You see, Jim Billings is a Republican and I, like you, am a Democrat. We got to arguing a little bit, and finally Jim said that a Democrat was no good on earth," Father—"James said that, did heY" Bob --"Yes, he said they were all born thieves, and that he could lick any son of a Democrat that ever lived," Father—"And then did you fight?" Bob—"Well, not quite then. I told him I was the sen of a Demoetat, and was proud of it, and he could not lick one side of me. Then he said he could lick mo if I was an octagon and had eight sides, and that my y father Wasn't a respectable thief anyhow, but a common, veranda climer. Then; we' } A DREADFUL WIFE. 1 The War on tie Germans n fast Afrioat 1 Why herring° Is a Failure to Air, Iion•rer.. i t suppose every,, husband is subjeot to what might be called - sudden fits, and 1 hope every wife tries to bear up under them with philosophlcal patience. The other Sunday morning, five minutes. after Mr. Bowser had gone to his room to got ready for church, he roared at me (Mrs. Bowser) over the bannister " Airs. Bowser, are you the woman of the h -use or only a lady boarder ?" " Why, dear ?" ' " Dont why dear me, Mrs. Bowser 1 If I pretended to be a house keeper I'd look after things once ,in a while 1" " Anything wrong ?" " Anything' 'wrong 1 Do I waste my breath in talking when everything is all right ?" 04 What is. it.?" I asked as I reached the head of the stairs. He held a clean shirt in one hand, and with the other he pointed to it with a dramatic flourish and whispered : "Buttons 1" H Buttons—how t" "Not a solitary button, on this shirt, and yet you find time to gad down town every day 1 That's the kind of a wife you are 1" " Mr. Bowser, do you mean shirt but• tins?" " Do I I You don't suppose I'm looking for overcoat buttons on my shirt, do you?" " Well, then, you haven't had a shirt but- ton on your shirt for tett years. You and all ethers use collar buttons. Your collar - buttons are in the shirt you have on." It struck him all in a heap. He saw how he bad trapped himself, but he went to his room muttering "That's it t She always has an excuse ready for everything 1" One awful hot day in July he spoke about changing his socks after his bath, and I told him in the plainest of English that ho would find clean ones in his lowest bureau drawer. That night he came home and began : " Can you tell me what day during the next month you will have two minutes to spare ?" " Why ?" " Because, if you ever get them, perhaps you can devote a few seconds to darning the holes in my socks. I've had to limp around all the afternoon on that account." " It can't be 1" "Oh, no 1 You are such a model house- keeper that it can't be, of course 1 Look here !" He pulled off his shoes and to ! be had on bis heavy Winter socks, every thread wool 1 There were two or three holes, but they were not to be darned until Fall, of course. " Mr. Bowser, where did yon get those socks ?" I hiked. Out of the trunk in the clothes press, of course," " And you go and put on January socks in July 1 You have six pairs of clean cotton socks in the lower drawer of the bureau." "I'll bet you $10,000 there isn't even one pair there 1 I looked through eve. y drawer five times over 1" I took him up and showed him the socks, counting them out pair by pair, and he look- ed at me very seriously and observed : "Yes, I see 'em, but were they there when I looked for 'em ? How easy for you to have sneaked up and placed 'em here an hour ago?' He had some wearing apparel which he said I might tell to buy some toys fir the baby. I got the clothes down and went through every pocket twice over. In one of the coats I found a receipted bill for $26 worth of lumber, and I laid it on Mr. Bowser's desk. A man ranee fo: the clothes and took them away, at' d ti 'myth later, t when Mr. Bowser came Tho ' r told him of int my bargain. "Yon got pat half what he wonld have paid me," he replied, and the subject was dropped for half an hour, Then all of a sudden he jumped up and exclaimed : "You've finally done it, just as I expected you would 1" " Done what ?" " I remember that I loft a valuable paper •in that brown coat. It was a receipted lumber bill, and tieey may send the bill again any day 1" , I looked in the pockets." " Oh, yes, you looked 1 You looked just like any other wife who was in a hurry to .get the clothes out of the house and the money in her hand." I went and got the reoeipt and asked him f that was the one. He grudgingly admittech that it was, and added '"I presume the old clo' man found it and returned it. I must reward him for his :honesty." Ili was only three nights ago that Mr. Bowser took $5 from his wallet and handed it to me with the remark : i=tlt, - .'.. " The man won't probably come with the oats until after I have gone in the morning. Take this and pay him." Next morning he sat down to breakfast looking so very sober that I asked .: "Are you sick, Mr. Bowser ?" "I ought to be. Whenpeopleare robbed .they are generally made sick." " Have you been robbed ?" "I have." "When ?" "Last night." "For mercy's sake 1 but did some one get into our house?" , "I do not know. When I went to bed last night I bad $55 in my wallet. This morning I have only $50." "You don't say." "It seems very queer to nee, Mrs. Bowser. If you want money why don't you ask for it?" "You don't think I took your money, do you ?" "It's very mysterious." "Why, say, you gave me that five for the feed man." Mr. Bcweer's countenance fell just twenty- six wentysix inches in the next two seconds, and in his confusion he agreed that the money was now accounted for all right. However, on second thought he oeserved : "I will overlook it this time, Mrs. Bowser, but don't presume upon my good nature in future 1•' Ntonsolation. "I wouldn't cry, little boy," said a kind old gentleman, coneolingly; "you may be 'unhappy for the moment, but it will soon prise away. You wouldn't expect me to cry, would you, every time I'm a little un- happy ?" ( " n I No air responded the tearful i p little lad : "you'd prob'ly go an' get a drink." fit?" Yokes and yoke effeote aro multiplying on bung ladies' fall costumes, and take on all sorts of ahepes—square, rounded, or out in points that extend nearly to the waist in front and terminate at the middle of the ack. Upon now dresses these yokes, which are invariably of a different fabric and col- or from the rest of the emu, aro subetitut- o y casts or yes s an, p matrons, a girdle of the same f Abri& as the yoke being very frequently added, with the upper per, tion of the sleeve, like the gown and the duff or Medici puff below ties elbow, glade of the yoke material, Father—"How—or—man. - times,m son • b did you strike James?'' yy ' Bo—"I counted up as far as forty or I o ty, an then a egarl to gouge my eye, , and I lost track of the teat, bub I am sure it was close on to a hundred." father My boy, go throw thisrawhide into the fire and then &erne back and hug me. d in man The Germane have serious work on hand in East Fifrioa, Along three hundred miles of the Z t,rzibar coast, between Pangani On the north and Kilwa on the south, they hove been attacked by ooast natives at five of their etatione and several Germans have bten kill- ed," Thi+uprising has speedily followed the cession to the Germans by the. Sultan of Zanzibar of this strip of coast, about 500 miles long and 10 mites wide. The immedi- ate pretext for this rebellion is the violent disinclination of the coast people to accept the sovereignty, of Ecrepeene.. The real cause of war is the affiliation of the coast natives with the Arabs of the interior. These attacks are only the lateet develop- ment in the programme of open hostility to all the whites in Africa, which led Mwanga, frenzied by Arab lies,to kill Bishop. Han ning��ton, and also led to the capture of Stan- ley .1i alls and the assaults upon the European settlers on Lake Nyasea, These coast natives are not such untutor- ed savages as those among whom white men. have oast their lot on the other aide of equa- torial'Africa. They are half-caste Arabs and Moslem Negroids, the product of two or three centuries of the admixture of Arab, Portuguese, and Indian traders and settlers with the native peoples. They dominate most of the narrow coast strip for several hundred miles, the pure-blooded Africans having retreated before them into the interior. Thousands of them, the Wa Suaheli, have served explorers as porters, but most of those who are now attacking the Germans are the half-caste Arabs and coast clans known as the Wa Mrima, whom the pure Arabs regard at greatly their inferiors, though the most influential immigrant in Central Attica, Tip- pu Tib, is himself a half caste. Two-thirds of the German stations are among the pure African tribes on the highlands from 75 to 150 miles west of the disturbed coast stria. The inevitable conflict between the whites who are trying to uplift and develop Africa, and the Moslems who are decimating and degrading her people, has now been signal- ized by bloodshed half way across the equa- torial regions. Every enterprise of the whites from sea to sea in this part of Africa is now confronted by the Arab question, and the signs are multiplying every day that this problem must be settled before any of those prej acts can go forward to which the Arab influence is a perpetual menace. Fortunately for the Germans the present impediment in their path is so near the sea that they will make short work of it when they seriously set about its removal. Alaska Uliff Dwellings. In pre -historic times, human beings often dwelt in dens, and caves of the earth, as much for safety from their numerous enemies as for shelter. Cave towns were even excavated in the sides of cliffs with what must have been, corentering the rude tools employed, an enormous expendi- ture of labor. The evidences of this custom are numerous in Asia Minor, in Italy, and in our own Southwest Territories. To -day the most no; able instance of cave -houses, on this hemiepbt re' at least, is to be seen on what is termed Ring's Island, to the south- east of Cape Prince of Wales in Behring's Sea, on the west -coast of Alaska. This small island is an elevated tableland of baeait. Its shores cunsiat of nearly ver- tical cliff, fronting the tea, and ranging in height from >ifny t't eeven hundred feet. The islanrl is i>ihebiterl by a tribal family of the 14ehlrmouts, or E,ktmoe, about two hundred in number, who gained a subsist- ence by walrus -hunting, sral-hunting and whaling. They pursue the creatures in kyaks, or canoes, which they are very expert in launching through the surf, ami navigating in rough water. The summer houses of the islanders are so many little platforms, .='tsclad to the sea -cliffs, and composed of wha;e rib bones, or shoulder bltde bones, fastened by thongs of sinew to large pegs of bone driven into the interstices of the baeait. The platforme. are guarded around the outer aide by a hair and are large enough for the family to, lodge upon. Trey thus serve at once the purposes of it habitation and a sentry -box„ from which the hunters may keep a lookout: for walrus and seals. Fires are kindled an them, and all the (main nary affair s of life are pursued often at a lit i , i''u of a hundred and fifty feet above rite mere swells which thunder en the rocks beneath. Not even a bird, a bank swailo.v, or an eagle could have a more airy habitation. Like the eagle, the Ring's Islanders have placed their eyries on the cliffs, to serve as lookouts for their prey. The oddity of these si 'gular habitations does not end here, however, since these platform -houses are but the summer abodes of the hunters. The winter houses are even more remark- able. To escape the winter storms, the islanders have excavated caves in the shatter- ed and seamed basalt—in many cases cav- erns of considerable depth and size. During eight months of the year these cave dwellings constitute comfortable retreats from the inclement weather, and also serve as store- houses for the rude wealth of the family. There are, it is stated, forty or fifty such eavehouses, corresponding to the number' of' families, and to the platforms of summer. In some cases, the platform -house is at the mouth of the cave -house, so the shift from summer to winter quarters can be easily and speedily effected. It is difficult to conceive of the character of such a life, on the face of a crag, with the ocean surges beating far below, and the open sky all around. What must be the thoughts and ideas of a child, born and nurtured amidst such strange surroundings 1 Already Dead. A great and noble movement, for which we all ought to be thankful, has been made in favor of discarding from millinery the feathers and bodies of birds. That slaughter of the innocents has gone far enough in ad- ministering to a diseased taste. In some cases, however, the reform con- tains a spice of absurdity. A lady who was enthusiastically in favor of it, one day came across a handsome stuffed bird among her hoarded trifles of millinery. " I think 1'11 have him on my fall hat said. " Dear me 1 I thought you were wildly excited over the killing of birds for trim. ming," said a friend. " And so I am. I shouldn't dream of buying a stuffed bird now, but this one I had before my conversion 1" Another lady who had gone over to the side of mercy, gave a bird, which happened to be in her possession, to her sister. "It is so lovely I cottidn't burn it," she said, e r and of couree I couldn't wear it my- self." Milliners have sundry clever was of out- tingthe Gordian knot of principle. Frnch women, struggling ag pia. Oen gg glongin broken En lish, hold up to it customer a poor little etor u sted sou Which ! « g tv� fol would sing ho more, Ah, madame, declared she, In an ecstasy of contemplation, "sat will be rdvissaftt 1' " But I cand, h "Because es socie€e? " t wear a birA, madame; but die little bird is dead 1"