evening to marry Mr. Hardy, and here lie comes now with ray wrap. There's a sea-turn, is there not ? It really is growing chill' . -t you have finished the gamei Earius* I should like to go in.—[Harper,s Bazaar.] _



To* Sawyeb having offended his sole Lrdian, Aunt Polly,.is by that sternly Affectionate dame punished by being set io whitewash the fance in front of the L r^en 'fh e world seemed a hollow mockery to Tom, who had planned fun for that day, and who knew that he would be the laughing-stock of all the bo-3 when they came past and saw him se Uo work like a 'nigger.' But a great inspiration burst upon him and he-went tranquil] vto work. W hat that inspiration was Will appear from what follows. One of the boys' Ben. Kogers, comes by, and nausea eating a particularly fine apple. Join does not see _ him. Ben stared a moment and then said : m .. ' Hiyi! You're up a stump, am t you s1 2To answer. Tom surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then he save another gentle sweep and surveyed the result as before. Ben ranged up alongside of him. Tom's mouth watered for the apple, but he stuck to his work.

< Hello old chap, you got to work, hey ?' •Why 'is it you, Ben ? I wasn't noticing.' ' Say, I'm °'oing in a swimming, I am. Don't you wish you could ? But, of course, you'd feather work, wouldn't you ? Course 7°Toei contemplated the boy a bit, and said: . a , • What do you call work r 'Why, ain't that work P' Tom resumed his whitewasing and answered carelessly . 'Well, »tiay"be it is, and may be it ain't, All I know is, it suits Tom Sawyer.' _ . • 0 .vcoraenow, you/ion tmean to Jet on that you like it ?' The brush continued to move. 'Like it ? Well, 1 don't sea why I oughtn't to like it. Does a "boy get a chance to white-wash a fence evdry day p' That'put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling Ms apple. Tom swept Ms brush daintily back and forth—stepped back to note the effect—added a touch here and there—criticised the effect again. Ben vatchiug every move, and getting more and more interested, more end more absorbed. Presently he said : ' Say. Tom. let me whitewash a little. Tom eonuidtsred ; was about to consent, i be altered his mind: ' I>; o, no, I reckon it wouldn't hardly do Bon. You see, Aunt Polly's awful parti cular about tills fence —right here on the street, you know—but if it was a back fence 1 wouldn't mind, and she wouldn't. Yes, she's awful particular about this fence ; it's got to be done very careful; I reckou there ain't one boy in a thousand, may be two thousand, that can do it in the way it's got to be done.' Xlo—is that so ? Oh, come now, leinnio just try, only just a little. I'd let you, if you was me, Tom.' 'Ban,l'd like to, honest injun; but Aunt Voiiy— well, Jim wanted to do it, but she wouldn't let him. Now, don't you see how lam fixed ? If you was to tackle this fence, and anything was to happen to

but.

'O K. shucks ; I'll be just as careful. Now ieiame try. ? Say—l'll fifive you the core of raj apple.' •Weil acre. £io, Bsq ; now don t; I'm afeared —'

; I'll give all of it !' Tom gave up'tlie brush with reluctance ill his face, but alacrity in his heart. And while Ben worked and sweated in the sun. the retired artist sat on a barrel in the siiadu clo^e by, dangled his legs munched Ins apple, and planned the slaughter of more innocents. There was no lack of material; boys happened along every little while; they came to jeer, but remained to white-wash. By the time Ben was fagged out, Tom iiad traded the next chance to Billy Fisher for a kite in good repair ; and when ho played out, Johnny Miller brought in for a dead rat and a string to swing it with; and so on, and so on, hour after hour. And when the middle of the afternooa came, from being a poor poyerty-stricken boy in the morning. Tom was literally rolling in wealth. He had, beside the things I have mentioned, twelve marbles, part of a jewsharp, a piece of blue bottle glass to look through, a spool capnon, a key that wouldu't unlock any thin:,', a fragment of chalk, a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six firecrackers, a kitten with ouly one eye, a brass door knob, n dog collar—but no dog—the handle of a knife, lour pieces of orange pcoi" and a dilapidated old window sash, fie had had a nice, good, idle time all the while—plenty of company—and the fence Lad three cunts of whitewash on it! If he hadn't run out of white-wash he would have bankrupted every boy in the village. Tom said to himself that it was not.such a .hollow world after all. He had discovered a great law of human action without knowing it, namely, that, in order to make a wan or a boy covet a thing, it is oaly necessary to make the thing difficult to attain. If he had been a great and wise philosopher, liJte the writer of this book, he would now have comprehended that work consists ot whatever a body is obliged to do. And this would help him to understand why

constructing artificial flowers, or per forming a tread-mill, is work, whilst rolling nine-pins or climbing Mount Blanc is only amusement. There are wealthy gentleman in England who drive four horse passenger coaches twenty or thirty miles on a daily line, in the summer, because the privilege costs them consider able money; but it they were offered wages for the service, that would turn it into work, and they would then resign.— [Mark Twain.



We were riding up avenne dcs Champs Elysees with Dr. V reading, in the houses riddled with bullats, the pavements demolished by the shells, the history of the Siege of Paris, when, .just before arriving at Rond Point de l'Etoilo, the doctor stopped and pointed out to me one of the largo corner houses that form such an imposing group around the Arch of Triumph. 'Do you see those four closed windows yonder on that balcony ?' he said. 'In the beginning of August, that terrible month of August, so pregnant with storms and disasters for us, I wa1) called in to attend a case of apoplexy in that house. The patient was Colonel Jouve, a cuirassier of the First Empire, a firm believer in the glory of his country, who, when war was first declared, took up his residence on the Champs Elysees in a house with a balcony. Guess why ? In order to witness the triumphant entry of our troops. Poor old man ! The news of Wessembourg reached him as he was rising from dinner. While reading the name of Napoleon, written at the foot of this bulletin of defeat, he fell insensible. . 'I found the old cuirassier extended on j the floor of his room, his face flushed, aud as unconscions as if he had been felled by the blow of a club. Standing, ho must have been a very large man ; lying there, he looked immense. Kegular features, superb teeth, a ma3s of white curling hair, 80 years old, but looking 60. Beside him knelt his granddaughter, weeping bitterly. She was very like him. Seeing them side by side reminded one of two beautiful Greek medels struck from the same stamp, only one antique tarnish ed, rather worn in the outline, while the other was clear and distinct in all the freshness and brilliancy of a new stamp.

' The griet of the young girl touched me. The daughter and granddaughter of sol diers, her father was on Me Mahon's staff, and the sight of the nM man lying insensible before her, caiieu up to her mind another sight not less terrible. I did my best to reassure her, but to tell truth I had myself very little hope. The old man had been struck down by an apopletic fit, and at eighty years of age one seldom recovers from that. For three days, in fact, the invalid remained in the same condition, motionless and insensible. Just at this time the news of Reichshoffen reached Paris. You remem ber in what a strange fashion. Until evening we allbelieved in a great victory, twenty thousand Prussians slain, the Prince royal a captive. Ido not know by what miracle, or what magnetic current, an echo of the national rejoicing reached our poor invalid in the depth of his paralysis, butthatevening.on approaching his bed I found him another man. His eyes were almost bright, his tongue less heavy. He was strong enough to smile, and he stammered out twice :

' Vic-to-ry !' ' Yes, Colonel, a great victory !' ( And, while I related the details of Me Mahon's success, I saw his countenance brighten, his features relax. 'When I left the room the young girl was waiting for mo at the door; she was creeping bitterly. ' He i 3 saved ! said I, taking her hands

in mine. The poor girl had scarcely courage to reply. The real news of lieichshoflen had just been published—Me Mahon flying, the army routed! We looked at each other.in consternation. She was heart broken, thinking of her father, l trembled, remembering, the old man. He surely could never stand this new and terrible shock. What was to be done ? Should we leave him to his joy and to the illusions that had revived him ? Then we would have to lie to him. ' Well, I will He to him,' said the heroic girl, dashing away her tears, and with a radiant countenance she returned to her grandfather's room. , It was a terribly hard task that she had undertaken. At first it was comparatively casv The old man's brain was feeble, and he believed blindly, like a child, whatever ' was told him. But with returning health his ideas became clearer. We were obliged to keep him informed respecting the movements of the army and to invent military bulletins. It was pitiful to see that fair young girl, studying night, and day over nor map of Germany, pricking it with little flags, attempting to arrange a glorious campaign ; Bazame advancing upon Berlin, Troissart in Bavaria, Mac- Mahon on the Baltic. She asked my ad dee about this, and I aided her as well as I could, but the old man was our principal assistant in this imaginary vision. He had conquered Germany so often under the first Napoleon. He knew all the movements in advance. ' .Now they will go here ; this is what they will do ; and his predictions were always realized, which made him very proud. 'But, unfortunately, no matter how many battles we won, how many cities we took, we never went fe*t enough for the

old man—he was insatiable. Every day on my arrival I learned of a new victory ' Doctor, we have taken Mayence,' said the young girl, coming to meet me with a sad smile, and I heard from the adjoining room a joyous voice that cried :

1 We are making great progress, In a week we shall enter Berlin.'

'At that moment the Prussians wer9 within a week's march of Paris. Our first idea was to transport our invalid to the provinces; but as soon as he left Paris, the state of the country would have told him all, and I feared that he was as yet too feeble, too much stunned by hia great shock to be able to boar the truth. So we decided that he should stay.

1 The first day of the siege I entered their apartment (I remembered it as if it were yestorday) very much moved, with that sad heart wherewith all of us saw the gates of Paris closed, the enemy under the walls, and our suburbs converted into frontiers. I found the old man seated on his bed, joyous and exulting.

' Well, doctor,' said he, ' the siege has commenced.'

' I looked at him with amazement. ' What, Colonel! do you know ?'

1 His granddaughter turned to me

'Why, yes, doctor; that is the great news ; the siege of Berlin has commenced.' She said that while drawing the needle though the canvas, with such a quietly deliberate tone ! How could he suspect anything ? The cannon of the forts—he could not hear them ! Unhappy Paris, all gloomy and disturbed —he could not see her. A small section of the Arch of Triumph was all he could see from his bed, and in the room, all around him, were the relics of the first empire, well calculated to sustain his delusions. Portraits of Marshals, engravings of battle subjects, the infant King of Rome, largo consoles covered with imperial relics, medals, bronzes, a stone from St Helena under a glass shade, miniatures, all representing tho same lady in ball costume, a yellow dress, leg.of-mutfcon sleeves, and light eyes; and all those — the consoles, the King of -Rome, the Marshals, the ladies in yellow., with the short waists, girdles under their arms, and that dignified stiffness that was tho grace of 1808. Good Colonel ! It was that atmosphere of victory and of conquests that surrounded him, more than anything we could say, that mude him believe bo implicitly in the siege of Berlin. ' From that day forward our military operations were very much simplified. The taking of Berlin was only a matter of patience. From time to time whenever the old man grew weary and impatient, his granddaughter would read him a letter from his son —an imaginary letter, of course —as for a long time nothing had entered Paris, and after Sedan, his son, who was MacMahon's Aid-decamp, had been sent a prisoner to a German fortress. You can imagine the despair of that poor girl, without news of her father, knowing him to be a prisoner, perhaps ill. yet obliged to make him talk in joyous thoug rather brief letters such alone as a soldier always marching onword in a conquered country has time to writ®. Sometimes her strength failed her, and weeks passed without news. But then the old man grew uneasy and could not sleep. Then a letter would arrive at once from Germany, which she would come and read to him beside his bed in a gay tone while choking back her tears. The Cojoncl listened religiously, smiled with a critical air, approved, criticised, explained to us the involved passages. But where ho was really fine was in tho answer he sent to his son.

' Nevor forget that you are a French man,' he said ; ' be generous to the poor people. Do not make this invasion too bard for them to bear.' Then came endless recommendations, delightful lectures upon the respect of the proprieties, the politeness which one owes to ladies, a whole code of military honor for the use of the conquer ors. He also added some general reflec tions upon politics and the conditions of peace to impose upon the Prussians. In that respect I must confess that he was not exacting. ' The war indemnity, nothing more. Why should we take their provinces ? Can we make Franco out of Germany ?' IHe dictated that in a firm voice, and one felt so much candour in his words, such a fine patriotic faith, that it was lm - possible not to be touched while listening to him. • Meantime the siege went on —not that of Berlin, alas ! llt was the time of the terrible cold weather, the bombardment, epidemics 1 and famine. But, thanks to our care, our efforts to the indefatigable tenderness that surrounded him, tho old man's seren ity was never once, troubled. ' Until the end I contrived to procure for him white bread and fresh meat.. There wag only enough for him though ; and you cannot imagine anything nioro touching than these innocently-selfish breakfasts of the old man—the colonel propped up in his bed, his napkin tucked under his chin, beside him his granddanghter thin and pale from her privations, guiding his hands, making him drink, helping him to eat all the good cheer. Then, revived by his re past, in the comfort of his warm room, the ! wintry frost outside, and the snow_ whirl ing before the windows, the old cuirassier would recall his northern campaigns and relate to us for the fiftieth time the account of that terrible retreat from Moscow, when they had nothing to eat but frozen biscuit and horse-ftesh. 1 Can you imagine it, little girl ? —we ate horse !'

'She could easily imagine it; for two months she had eaten nothing else. From day to day, however' as convalescenca approached, our task became more and more difficult. That nnmbness of mind and body alike that had so well aided us up to that time, began to disappear. Two or three times the terrible explosions from Porte Maillot had made him start, pricking up his ears like a hunting-dog ; we were obliged to invent a recent victory of Bazaine before Berlin, and artillery fired in honor of the occasion afc the Inva lides. Another day, when we had pushed his bed up to the window (I think it was the day of the fight Buzenval,) he saw plainly the National Guards collecting on the Avenue de la Grande Armce.

' What troops are those P' asked the old man- and I heard him mutter to him self, • Badly drilled ! badly drilled !'

'That|was all ; but we understood that in future we must take great precautions. Unhappily, we were not cautious enough.

' One evening, on my arrival, the young girl camo to meet me, looking very anxious.

' They enter the city to-morrow,' she said :

' Was the grandfather's door open ? I do not know. Bub, in thinking it ovor since, I remember that he was strangely excited that evening. He probably over heard us. Only we were talking of the Prussians, and the old man was thinking of the French, of that triumphal entry which he had waited for so long ; Mac Mahon riding down the flower-strewed avenue, his son beside the Marshal, and ho (the old man) on his balcony, in full uniform, soluting the torn flags and pow der-blackened eagles as they passed.

'Poor Colonel Jouve ! Ho doubtless imagined that wo wished to prevent him from witnessing the entry of our troops, in order to keep him from becoming too much excited. So he took care to keep the secret from every one; and the next morning, at the very hour that the Prussian troops were beginning to march up tho road that Jeads from the Porte Maillot to tho Tuileries, that window was opened softly and the Colonel appeared on the balcony with his helmet, his long sword, his worn and glorious uniform as a cuirassier of Milhaud. I cannot even now imagine what effort of will, what return of strength could have given him the power to rise and dress himself. However, there ho was, standing ere^t behind tho railing, astonished to find tho streets deserted, the blinds of tho houses cloned, Paris as silent as atom.», flags everywhere, it is true, but such wtrange ones —white, with red crosses —and no one there to greet our soldiers !

' For a moment he thought he had been mistaken. But no ! Yonder, behind the Arch of Triumph, was a confused murmur, and a black line that was advancing through the dawn. Then, little by little, the spikes of the helmets glittered, the drums of Jena began to beat, and under the Arch of Triumph, cadenced by the heavy step of the infantry and by the clang of the sabers, sounded Schubert's triumphal march. Then through the street rang a cry, a terrible cry, ' To arms ! to arms ! The Prussians are upon us !' And the four uhlans of the vanguard might have seen yonder on that balcony a tall old man stagger, fighting the air with his hands, and then fall prostrate. Colonel Jouvc was dead !'

Te.

The longest speech on record is believed (says the Boston Pilot) to have he.en that made by Mr. De Cosmos, in the Legisla ture of British Columbia, when a measure was pendiag whose passage would take from a great many settlers their lands. Do Cosmos was in a hopeless minority. The job had been held back till the evo of the close of the session ; unless legisla tion was taken before noon of a given day the act of confiscation would fail. The day before tho expiration of the limitation, De Cosmos got the floor about ten a.m., and be#an a speech against tho bill. Its friends cared little, for they supposed that by one or two o'clock he would be through, and the bill could be put on its passage. One o'clock came, and De Cosmos was still speaking —hadn't more than entered upon his subject. Two o'clock —he was s-iying 'in the second place.' Three o'clock —he produced a fearful bundle of evidence, _ and insisted on reading it. The majority began to have a suspicion of the truth —ho was going to speak till next noon and kill the bill. For a while they made merry over it, but, as it came on to dusk, they began to get alarmed. They tried interruptions, but soon abandoned them, because each one afforded him a chance to digress and gain time. They tried to shout him down, but that gave him breathing space, and, firjalljr, they settled down to watch the combat between strength of will and weakness of body. They gave him no mercy. No adjournment for dinner; no chance to do more than wet his lips with water, no wandering from his subject, no sitting down. Twilight darkened; the gas was lit; members slioped out to dinner in relays, and returned to sleep in squads, but De Cosmos went on. The Speaker, to whom he was addressing himself, was alternately dozing, snoring, and trying to look wide awake. Day dawned, and the majority slipped out in squads to wash and breakfast, and the speaker still held on. It cannot be said that it was a very logical, eloquent, or sustained speech. There were digressions in it, repetitions also. But stdl the speaker kept on, and, at last noon came to a baffled majority, livict with

rage and impotence, and a single man, was triumphant, though his voice had sunk .o a husky whisper, his eyes were almost shut, and were bleared and blood shot, his legs tottered under him, and his baked lips were cracked and smeared with blood. De Cosmos had spoken twenty-six hours, and saved the settlers their land!

Perils of the Rail.

Thr engineer had gotten off to snowball a chipmunk, and the conductor was minding a young widow's baby for her; and the result was that the train happened to get on a down grade and was started off at a terrific rate every bit of four miles an hour, I should think. We were just half a mile above the Annapolis junction, and the first thing we knew—there being no one to whistle aud wake up the switch tender —we were turned off into the Annapolia road and went down the wrong track at full speed. Imagine our consternation when just at that moment we heard the whistle, not half a mile ahead of us, of the Annapolis up-train. We were paralyzed with terror. Hero were two trains on the same track approaching each other at the dizzy speed just mentioned. Evidently our time had come! In a few short hours, the engines would meet, and then— destruction !

Pale, but calm, the doomed band of passengers sat, and though with the very show of death upon them, raised their voices in a parting hymn. ' Send for the baggage-master/ said a young; raan with a sad smile.

' Why ?' was asked

1 Because we are about to pass in our checks.'

Everybody wept. From the roar plat form we could hear the miserable engineer straining every nerve to catch up, but he had tight boots on and didn't gain any thing to speak of.

At this moment a ray of hope dawned upon us. I had just finished writing my will on the back of a visiting card, when I observed a young lady in the act of detaching her bustle. Placing the article —which was composed of eight hundred nowspapers and a hair mattress—under her arm, the heroine inarched through the

We followed her anxiously. She climbed up on the fender and then over the ungino. It was very interesting aud thrilling 10 see her climbing over tne wheels and brass things, on her way to tlte cow-catcher. It reminded me of a country girl getting ovor a wire fence. But never mind that now. Let me see when? I was. Oh, yes—on the cow catcher. Holding on by the cross-bars with one hand, the noble maiden tied the bustle, on the sharp prow with the other. You can guess the result. In the course of the afternoon the collision came off. Protected by the bustle, we received a gentle bump, a?id were saved.

I took up & collection for the woman on the spot. I always take up collections on such occasions—always. And what's more, I never forget to give the object interested something nice out of it—never. There is nothing mean about me. I suppose yon have notice my clothes ?

A Child of Shadows.

Months ago a Detroiter was sent to the House of Correction for habitual drunken ness. rJ he wife, a hard working woman and sorely afflicted in health, managed to provide food and fuel for herself and child until the other day, when death came to end the struggle. The little girl, hardly eight years old, was all alone in the house when her mother died. The event occurred at dark, and at midnight the child was heard singing in the dark ness. A pedestrian who halted heard her say :

' Mother, won't you wake up and light the lamp P Ifyouwilll will sing some more!'

Suspecting what had happoned, he roused some of the neighbors, and, as they went in. the child sat in the darkness hold ing its mother's cold hand and singing :

"Tho Lord will lead a little child And teach me how to pray."

A dark room, death on the bed, poverty, hunger, and cold to make her situation more.desolate. and yet the childof shadows was not at'raid. She said :

"I kept still a long while to let mother sleep. Then I sang all my songs to keep me awake. Then I looked out of the win dow and didn't move, so that the angels wouldn't be afraid to come and talk to her and make her smile! I wish God had made more daylight for poor folks J'

In a certain apothecary's shop of Pittsburg may be seen a notice recommendidg a certain patent medicine with the dubious heading, ' Try one box • no other medicine will ever be taken.'

Intelligent housemaid : ' Oh, please, miss, there was a young gentleman called' when you was out. He didn't leave no card, miss, but I can show you who he is,' cause there's'three of Juis photographs in. your album.'

George IT., being informed that an im pudent printer was to be punished for pub lishing a spurious royal speech, said that he hoped the punishment would be light because, so far as he uuderstood either* he liked the spurious one best.

'I narrowly escaped being cut off with a shilling,' said a solemn young man 'Ho v did you escape it ?' asked a bystand er. 'My father had no shilling,' was the, solemn reply. ■

132vening1 Star SuppleraieJit, -A.rig-u.st 19, 18*76