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> Reminiscence. -*Sr-gttp 1 ft£QOHo tU© hiUS^* And a (White road through the trees; .A. gap itnH>Ttg-\t — And some-'Tfow'-'meinOTies. Tjue river winding down. And willows- bending low; The river winding down, - And things qt ions *go; —Frank Leo Plriet,, in'Lipptacott's. ;5a5H5H5HSB5H525ESE5ZSE5ZS2KSZSy! her belojtsd brother was. there among his comrades, and she ran to the am- balances, passing fcojn one to tie pth- er,-qufiBtiqningithe-nurae8 and -ienci- -ing-flv^rea*hjjedr-v . But eVenlngfapproached, and all had been In vain. The hope which had supported her during the day depart ed like the light. In the evening she stopped quite .exhausted; the. supreme without' Weakness at^therunforgetable. -spectacle, at these linfbrtuna'te Soldiers —pale, -bleeding, emaciated; that ,-sweet gleam of hope which had glv- \^nTier- strengtn to enauro-the. com? low?\ exclaimed Noemi, troubled, by the fixity nf thfloft-^yfffi, which figemnfl to •contemplate, her irom beyond the - grave. a ^irttfapBi^-^^^^'lffot^- of the's\trang<57s'wotft'di ^nHt 'aeeriied freed from anxiety on hearing that there was hope. ' The days passed rapidly and Louis .dally grew? 8^^g)sr .wyEt ^J^Se not -promlsed -tij ^jJB^e ^aBte ^toji^' bet ter? Online'mo^i^Siat^jef tenth day Noemi n^de-^erJajlp«w««o^; her * face radiant with ' joyi 'Jn;';he'r' hand she carried carefully a little' packet In\ the Rue. de Lille, Valenciennes, W A3 .aJJttje QDQ-Mssy house, half* con cealed toy a tftlcV growth of Virginian creeper and clematis. Prom morning to night a young girl might have been \seen at the open window 'busily occu pied in making lace. The pretty fea tures of the young worker, and the al most rhythmical movements of her graceful arms, were quite a picture of loveliness. The bobbins danced In her fingers, flying in one direction to 1 return with redoubled speed, so nim bly, that she appeared like one of the good fairies we reacts In old legends. The eyes of the passers-by were raised to this little window with its curtain of verdure, and more than one heart sighed at the sight of the beautiful lacemaker; but such sighs found no response. Miss Noemf Verdler was aa ; good a3 -beautiful, and her modesty •and simplicity won universal respect. At thirteen years of age she had \been left an orphan with an only •brother, a journeyman cabinet-maker, three years her senior, who thus be- . *• ^ngTeftalone at \the head of the fam ily worked for his sister and himself. At first times were very hard for the brave youth; hardly had he fin ished his apprenticeship when mis fortune arrived. As yet Noemi earn- <ed nothing, and the young workman's •days were not very remunerative. But with good-will, labor 'and great economy, he succeeded, in spite of all, In enabling his sister to finish her education tn incomaklng. and now, in this affectionate association of broth er and' Bister, it was the latter who contributed the larger share to the maintenance of the home The rich laces of pure artistic de sign, real masterpieces of delicacy, made by Noemi, were those which won Valenciennes its fame All was happiness in the little household. Years glided by until the time for the •conscription arrived, and l^oul9 had to •accompany the army The parting was bitter for these two so deeply at tached to each other \I shall count the days which sep arate me» from your return—a long time, alas!\ said Noemi. \I also,\ replied the brother, \untn the happy moment of belnr restored *o you.\ Left alone in the little house, now ttoo large, Noemi set to work with <& heavy heart, making marvels, more delicate than gossamer, destined per haps to adorn the heads of persons less worthy of wearing them than herself. Every Saturday she deliver ed her work, atfd divided her earnings Into two parts, one of which she sent to her brother to lighten the burdens of his soldier life. POT MS- part, Louis behaved in his regiment as he had done at Valen ciennes; that fa to say. In a credlta- Jble, way, so that after a term of two years he sent word one fine morning that he had been promoted to the rank of sergenat. Noami was delighted at the news and was proud of her be loved brother. But her Joy was of short duration Some days later cries of \War!\ sud denly resounded on all sides. Armed France rushed to the- eastern frontier. The terrible year had commenced. Noemi shed no tears; she wrote to her absent brother, not to exhort him to duty—this she knew was unnec essary—but to tell him once more of her anxious love and to send Tier lit tle supply\ of money! One \by one she learned by her brother's letters the successive defeats of the French army—Worth, Rezoaville, Saint Prly- at, Gravelotte, Sedan! Then sudden ly there was silence; no tetters, no news, nothing. Wounded? Perhaps dead! / . _ Noemi,- who- had ucVef res3\ Ziis newspapers, now hurried every morn ing to the offices of the Valenciennes papers to look-Tor some ray of nope. She listened to the street rumors; mlngled with the crowds discussing] 'he news, and heard , the sorrowful accounts of that horrid war^ learning that her brother 's regiaient ^fiad, suf fered most severely. 'The ^oundef^ were transported by the Hfrson'and Avesne lines to the norther^ frontier towns; every day ne ^,,<!Onv;bj^'ii^| rived at VaJencIenne^./.'^n^tfiej.ct 'rtl! and military hospitals - were ^?4f? Dnt the wounded still cpnVjSu ^';Vt6^ life •crease, no that' priv ^e .>\ambnffince» had to be organized' eVery^h ^rei . Churches., and factories .oD &]edy$& r ' doors *- < *i-i*..V^i^iSi who seemed: paralysed; „, .trothefe Jitis^hared ' 'Swf!£lti&j$%$* \ -wretetied^^ivors-'i>t fierbi ^JIrttlSi 'i firiy, samSihg ithe ^cpunKMurCeS><»g5' plaints of sufferers, the sight of hid eous wounds, all abandoned her soul. In the midst, of her, grief she was now alone, more than orphan; and with out a murmur, witnout revolt againsT the cruelty of her fate, she -bowed her head and wept as she had wept the day before, as Bhe would\ weep again on the morrow Then she recalled the horrible vision of unsightly wounds, the convulsed features of the livid countenances contracted with terror awaiting death, which alone could end such agony. She pictured to herself her poor \brother abandoned on -some battle field far from all aid, stretching his hands to her in agony, calling her to his side. Suddenly she remembered that on the previous day a hospital had been established afSt. Saulve es pecially for officers. , Was there any chance of an unknown sergeant hav ing been conveyed thither? Certainly not, and yet she summoned sufficient strength to return. In a few minutes she reacheq the hospital, resolutely opened the door, and entered. A military doctor met her. \What *re you looking for, miss?\ \My brother.\ \His name?\ \Sergt Louis Verdier.\ \You mean Sub-Lieut. Verdier.\ As he spoke the doctor pointed to the long line of mattresses on the floor. \There he is. i n the sixth bed.\ The ground seemed to fly under her feet, and, suppressing a cry of Joy, she staggered forward, overcome by happiness and gratitude, falling on her knees at the side of the bed on which her brother lay in a heavy stupor, his head enevloped -in linen bandages. \Louis Louis, I am here'\ she said, and almost swooned. The wounded man recovered con sciousness at'the sound of her voice and opened his eyes. Then, recogniz ing his sister, he stretched ont both his hands, unable to raise his head, which Noemi grasped and bathed with tears—tears of Joy this time flowing from a heart which at last had found happiness. Her emotion was so great that words failed. The doctor walked quickly forward and half compelled her to leave the J bedside. \You must keep calm,\ he exclaim- ed, \or we cannot answer for any thing. The wound is healing, your brother will certainly recover unless you spoil our work. Enough for to day. You can return tomorrow morn ing, but do not stay now.\ Louis Verdier, promoted to a sub- lieutenancy on the field of battle, was shot in the forehead, but the bullet struck him obliquely and passed to the back of the head, from which It was extracted. \Do you know,\ exclaimed the happy Noemi some days later as she sat by the bedside, \yesterday my em ployer gave me an order for a mag nificent piece of lace, very difficult to make, which he requires for a rich Rngllsh firm. I began the work yesterday, and I hope to finish it in ten days. I shall be exceedingly well paid for this work. Can you guess what I intend to d\o with the money?\ \No replied the young officer. \Well as the doctor says you will soon be strong enough, I shall have you carried home, so that I can be at your side night and day. You will he very happy \and soon quite cured. \What a good idea, dear sister! shall make haste to get better, so that I may accompany you.\ \I shall work hard, because your return home Is not a mere dream, and this happiness Is'close at hand.' Every day Noemi passed an hour at her brother's pillow; he was now convalescent,, and Noemi constantly chatted about her lace; the work was progressing rapidly, and, as she had •^£;?}S£a!<f iSe completed far ten days. One morning,-as she entered the 'hospital, bejr countenance beaming with joy, her brother made a sign to i_ h'er\tQ.speak\ln-'a-iow voice, glancing as he did so, at a taewly arrived pa tient' on the. 'neighboring^ mattress. • TJx&'-iraii, bount de Lanterac d'Am- brx )yke^flieu£en*'nt In the light ln- fantryr '..he ? had been struck on the ahoulderyby a fragment of shell f ,^Popt^Onth|'' < exclaimed' NdemJ, '^^•i.fV^Jtn&iStt,. M ne jjag JJO plater •iaprested Intthls'unfdr- tan»^|^hpmfdeath seemed awaiting. „ithB Ijpua&uJKer>¥ gazed with staring •feypsat^e \young girl, who, amid the fjhaiiuci^t^S^orfeTefrseemedttphim :%a>nfgra2uktty;^^ .v ffe^'ex ^diKilongvl )efore 1 --Noemrs' ar T wrapped In. tlssuB ^pajrer. 5 —Sher'aGST kept her word. iHer. Marvelous piece of lace was completed,laTOl,she wish ed her broth%£ to Bee -it ibefore.taking it. to her employer. . In Tier happ£ ness at.being able to \remove her brother, she quite forgot \tfte poor wounded Stranger, who was now watching her with reanimated eyes: \Is it not lovely?\ she exclaimed, laying the delicate masterpiece of which she was so proud ..on her •brother's bed, her pride,\' hTOwever, was not due to the difficulties she had conquered, but to the fact that she would now be able to take her* brother to their home, to which hap piness would thus be restored. They were both happy as, with clasped hands, they examined the delicate fabric, giving no attention to the stranger, who, being uneasy on ac count of this behavior, raised himself partially in his bed. In moving, the count displaced the bandages on his wound, and a stream of blood gushed forth and inundated the bed. Hearing the cry of the suf ferer, the doctor appeared and laid the horrible wound toare. \Qnickl'Quicki\ he shouted. \Some lint! Quick!\ While the distracted nurses were looking everywhere the blood still flowed, and the anxious doctor reiter ated his commands. Brother and sister, motionless, pale with terror, exchanged a single glance. Noemi tore her beautiful lace to pieces and banded It to the doc tor, who applied it to the wound; the hemorrhage was checked. \Thanks dear sister.\ Louis could say no more. \Merely a few days* delay,\ mur mured Noemi, repressing the tears In her eyes. \I shall recommence my work.\\ Today Count de Lanterac d'Am- broyse is a colonel; he has three children—one tall, pretty daughter al most as lovely and gentle as her mother, Noemi, whose name she bears, and two fine lads who, accord ing to their uncle, the brave Com mandant Louis Verdier, promise great things.—New Yorkr Weekly. ZENITH.OF ME-REflCHED ANTHROPOLOGICALLY, AMEiRl* \7CANS \^VE ?cTr ^8ED^T0'1VrAl ^e 7 -fey^'?*^E*5^\'\'^ - •• ; 1 There are Were Cetebates Now- Married People Have Smaller Fam- lflt *^Hy -;Ai «iertcah« Wive .Failed J -Tt(^}^li<»iLin^>i^\l(^}wi Its Rc ^B.,l80cibl6glst ; of .the\TJalverslty ,pf Nebraska .^whp .aJ„few-years;\agp was abided:'' 'j&Vesiijn irdmr {h\e^f«uli£y~6f LelandaXStanford (UntyersUj^^ai^ae^l C9tjj& ? .of t ihls^rk.dlcaV'. ^•^rtJf^^rU^yffe -lectured Vo .Pntv^tffit^ ly\on the 'subj'e 'ctv\ \The' Sburselt'of- Solence IQ talk*'with aim. The small JSfiJS^wtto. Knew-a lucre wre ^a, <~>.«:U H»lm Solon atfa\ArlstIdes ana Phocion. —3t,rls sad> to ijilnk pt the utter un- «bhacipusnegBr;pfdhese -ainlable aris- tocirajts)^^eypn^ej^reanied , .that.; thi8 'maa''-FTanklin ;:; was a potent '/iad' a prophet of rutn to them. He'was In carnate democracy!, and they petted himl.^ IChe^neyec. imagined that In 8h ^6ri'tif£4th'e^ were :sowing -the wind' which would rtpenrttt^n awful-harVast of whir!- 'winds/ •' Lkter^wheh^thes-jwhlrlwlnds-j had, haxiUy gob 'beyond the frisky 1 Blage of tuul:dev»lo?mentr^h&HQu.ee Easy Enough. \From time immemorial,\ said Judge Asher Corruth, of Louisville, Southern people have been lavish in bestowing titles. I think there is something in the Southern tempera ment which explains this. I didnt start out on this, however, for a phil osophical disquisition, but, rather to tell how a certain Kentucky gentle man established va\id title to the rank of-colonel. He went to Cincinnati once with a friend, who enjoyed many acquaintances in the Buckeye metrop olis, and who introduced him to every one as Colonel Brown. Everything went -along smoothly until finally one Cinclnnatlan asked of the introducer: \ 'I suppose your friend Colonel Brown was in the Confederate army?' '\No he was not.' \ 'Well, thpn, he fought on the Union sido?' \ \You are wrong there, too.\ \ 'Oh, I see now; he got his title by serving in the \State militia?' \ 'No, he never entered the militia.' \ Then, how In thunder did he get to be a colonel-?' \ *He drew a sword, sir, at a church fair!'\—Washington Post Sex in Handwriting. It Is a curious fact that one of the only things which even an expert ! graphologist does not guarantee to dis cover in handwriting is the sex of the writer We are. accustomed to think that the feminine or masculine temperament will readily betray It self in the writren word, but In the majority of cases such is not the case. Writing bold, black and firm, most masculine appearing in every way, will, frequently be found to emanate from the pen of-jt woman, iWhlle deli;. cate tracery with the regularity sug gestive of precision and method, or - the dash and spontaneity which indi cates a lively fancy almost unmistak ably feminine, one says on examina-. tion is discovered to belong to ' a\' writer of the opposite sex. .i An interesting little * experiment proving this theory can be^ini'de ii this way. Take 'twelve'^'or twenty en.--' velopes written in. chirographics- yogi. ate sure of, and^numberj each scrap, fclearly; Pass ttem--arbun'd : alnd See\ how Tnany^or^onrVi^nas.^wlil cah§; rectly guess the sex\'of-' the, different^. Twicers, ^hlch may\ : be^'wrlt^en gown;- and,-nnmbered like the Wy 'ejbpesl-.Iti '.will} Tseljdonl .oprpve^thaty ,a&re£?- Jhan£ oneihlrd of; the- goessei^at most, 1 are': OTrrectt^New'TdrkV^sk ' ' - -Zi 'if Americanism/' In-the Course of-his remarks, he declared that the Amerl- can race and he Insisted that there Is a 'distinct American racfe—ha'd prog ressed as-far as it Is likely' topros- ress. -The^ipss of the vast frontiers, the equal^ distribution of population and the tendency coward grouping of vast numbers in the large cities were giv en as his reason for believing that the race'had run its onward course. The noted educator explained that he did not mean by this that the race would begin to show decline and de cay at once. H.e proclaimed the Am erican race the greatest in the world but predicted that it would have to stand still for a long time now and that neither progress nor decline would \be\ noticeable for_>-ears. There is a distinct American race, contrary to-most-opinion, the. Profes- sor said. 'This race has been most progressive. It is true that moBt of,] our progress has been due to the na tural resources of the country, yet a .great dea' of It Is due entirely to the peculiar stable inherent qualities of our people. If our population In 1880 had been made up exclusively of English, French, Germans, or any other race of European people we would not have made the great progress that has been made. Though we were the dumping |. ground of Europe In the Colonial days, we got better people than we left belimd. The immigrants were not better mentally or more noble, but were superior in strength and en ergy. Our frontier life made the na tion. The people met the hard knocks of life and grew strong from their contact with nature. Anthropologically speaking, how ever, the American race has reached Its zenith. We no longer hava any frontier and the loss of this Import ant element In our progress has been weakening. The population of the country is coming to be -equally dis tributed throughout the country. Our young men are now going chiefly to. the man-stifling cities. There they have smaller families. 'There are more celibates now. The city is \a blast furnace in whfeb men are made incandescent with fervid heat. The next moment they iufn into cinders The nation has never recovered ful ly from ihe effects of the Civil War. •Half a million of \our best men were sacrificed In that conflict, and now the flower of the South is gone. In proof of this I call your attention to the fact that the leaders in states manship before the war came from the South, but not now. The South was robbed of Its statesmen, while in the North the rot of graft crept in. The race has 'been diluted by a stream of unselected, Immigrants. In colonial times we got many of the best European people. We are now tapping a lower strata. Americans are taller than their Eur opean cousins. We are a tall and a slim race. The cheek bones show dis tinctly In the pictures. Look at the symbolic pictures of Uncle Sam and John Bull. Uncle Sam Is shown as tall and slim, while John Bull Is the opposite. The chief traits of tie Am erican race are energy*'and -will pow er. Americans alwayB go to for effici ency and results. The activity of the - American has placed a damper on lust. The;, social relations In Ameri ca are higher than in Europe as a result. Americans intend to speak the truth, but their desire to wifi leads to a combat between the desite ^for \iruth and the aim to win. Tie in tense activity of the race has rob 1 bed it «jf comfort. Withall its en- ' e?gy : ato'd perseverance xhe-'people ^haJre yet to learn\ how to relax anil enjoy their leisures. . J Americans have failed in literature and art because the men have been,\ busy with world-buUalng^whiie the •women albne' have given; attention itotart^^C^cago'ChrcWj^^'— \ , Jam^nted, t bitterlyM^e folly of these iiwaubna t6-' ; the great^ democrat. There was one'sagacious head that was wiaely- shake'n over these 'Indiscretions. whll'a they lasted. JosepTi II., \Emperor or Austria,' brother tp the Queen, who was iq. Paris on his travels, and who was as much ~df~a'~denTacrat himself as an emporer can be, when his sis ter rebuked hU coolness on the Amer ican question,', replied ^ \Madam the trade I live by is that of a royalist\ Court Incense sould not turn the philosophic head any more than the loud acclaim of the people. When Franklin found himself the honored guest of royalty, his thoughts fevert- ed to those far-away days of boyhood when his father used to quote to him, In the old candle shop at Boston, .the words of the wise man, \Seest thou a man diligent in his business? He shall stand before kings.\ The old sage heard Che echo of that paternal voice resounding over half a century,- and a new and strange light, as of prophesy fulfilled, illuminated the Im mortal words. Surely no man ever lived more\ diligent \in \ms\ \buslneag; Surely nojnan ever stood... with more of the Innate dignity of upright man hood, before kings.—Prom John Hay's 'Franklin In Prance\ In the Century. _ .«WIllie;\ said, ^Imt^tfeg|y6ta& ;mbHe'r^o;h^ •what ^-dll^rffl^^^^m?:!^^ ^e~:iit^\^ kRANKLlN^ 'HOSORS. It i \ \ft' •' , . Vio>'the*rei»h'^C.o«rt.;,;t r :;. A M iFiance4 -ih^i;BUscepyb^ /qu^ri?<^»rleX^6!netto ~Y -ftw. : - taios' or sonTe ! 6lte*m;e.atf hood, advises-the.' American ,0 for 'brij^kojkibu*!^ New Jersey\1iaa.y.. -hark-llke^a-dog. Thja. THE VERY FIRST MATCH. John Walker, an English Druggist Was the Inventor In 1827. In the nineteenth century—the cen tury in /which so many wonderful things were done—the fourth step In the development of the match was taken.' In 1827, John Walker, a drug gist in a srmafr English town, tipped a splint with sulphur, chlorate of pot ash, and sulpfild of antimony, and rubbed it on sandpaper, and it burst Into flame. The druggist had discov ered the first friction-chemical match, (he kind we use today. It is called friction-chemical because it is made by mixing certain chemicals together and rubbing them. Although Wal ker's match did not require the bottle of acid. It nevertheless was not a good one. It could be lighted only by hard rubbing, and. i t sputtered and ' threw fire In air directions. In a few | years, however, phosphorous was sub- s'tituted on the tip for antimony, and ; the chanse worked wonders. The j match could now be lighted with very 1 As another e^i«dt»*!&^^.&pnl)p i perity of the great cpmm ^gjpeie^jSpl, we nbte that JSe.OqO .rtTO^iw ^^tFdS. moods were Impof.t^' , 'int ^«S^ i |coun; try during the present caijentoWyeir, observes the Atlanta Cb'nstUu|ifion'. : ' . The Kansas City JounMl ^flisiff^ks ! that Count Witte says tfio/reyblufiQn. a'ry party is small but \4ete ( m~Ine<}. Russia seems to be having '.a 'iyeinen- dous amount of trouble with smalr-but - determined people. London is undoubtedly leading ;the world in the matter of womea^.'chjbs. Twenty-one years agp there =wis iiot a single Institution of the kind'fljnow. there are thirty, with a toUUjmem- bershlp of over 20.000, ,T3 ^p ^are < also several mUedjCluhs^-ofisb ^KISe womeji ^memfbera \number. ^«jbout^a ,j thousand,\concludes the Lgnd^^gmV* j on at \Home. An* . For the first time In the-financial history of the South, the deposits In that region exceed one billion dpiliiVa. Should there be no relapse froru hl3 present position as a wealth producer, three yea1s\hence~the farmer will-find that the farming element, which forms thirty-five per cent, of the population, has produced an amount of wealth, within the preceding ten years :£<iual to one-half of the entire national wealth produced in three centuries. It is asserted by the newspapers that women are writing the best-fic tion of today, states Ltppincott's. The head of a large publishing house-goes further and declares that \nine-tenths of the good fiction of today is written by women.\ The substantial profits many women receive tell loudly and convincingly that In this channel tholr work is rated beside that of -\mere man.\ > The higher the average -ot ttlgni- gence among a given class of men, the readier they will be to combinev«>r _ T . . mutual protection and benefit;, V <W* little\ rubbing, and\ it \was no longer I clares the Coast Seamen's, ^\fW^ ' Lunatics never combine for, anjr, pur pose whatsoever, that is why a .great necessary to have sandpaper upon which to rub it. It would Ignite when rubbed on any dry surface, and there was no-longer any sputtering. This was the phosphorous match, the match with which we are so fam iliar. \ After the Invention of the easily lighted phosphorous match there was no longer use for the 31ip-spil5( or the strHte-a-Hght. The old meth ods of getting a blaze were gradually laid aside and forgotten. The first phosphorous matches were sold at | twenty-five cents a block—a block , containing a hundred and forty-four | matches—and they were used by but j ty are few.- Now a hundred matches can be : -\— bought for a cent It Is said that in the United States we use about 160,- 000,090,000 matches a year. This, on an aveijige. Is about five matches a day for every person. — From S. E. Forman's \Stories of Useful Inven tions\ in St Nicholas. kf— . crowd of them is easily manage'd^hy one keeper—Just like the cltlkens'of a great city are managed tjy one^boM; in control of a well-organized: political machine. Great Is the power of or ganization, greater even than was DI- anna of Ephesus. We do harm when we limit,\the phrases \social work\ and Tsoclal workers\ to those who are. \working through societies, declares the Chris tian Register. The majority of .the best social workers in any communl- .„ —*those whjj give their personal influence, their daily attentlon^^aga the work of their hearts arid hands to Increase the well-being of thel^.nelgh- bors and fellow-cltlzens. Social.wofk of this kind often opens out Intoi the Well-ordered work of a society,-' but the society Is nothing unle»»fbehlhd It Is the social force of a community An Unieasonabie Caution. The set form' of pass prescribed by -the War Department for visitors to Governor's Island contains a provis ion which seems unseasonable tn cold weather. The clause referred to reads as follows: \This pass is is sued 'with the understanding that the Wearer and party keep on the walks \ and^roatis, and-do not touch the flow- era or shrubbery on (he island.\ '{Tlie Tiumber 0$ visitors to Fort Jay nowadays Is larger than usual\ owing ;to the\ tact tirst a regiment' of about , many 'felngs '^jga^££gM*ll Is in- course oi organization' for I lor ttanran*d«-th«n^bette>*» 800 iervlce -in;-. B&—Philippines.' The start will be made soon. RelattvfesHr l r a arid .friends of the privates compos- irig ttet-body flock dally to the head- Quarters/of the Department .of the 'i^Si^'^uf- ;gopoby., The^.casual d» ticfirnent'.' as' the battalion schedul- ' —^.\•x'- i ii?'Li--'4j,»t3 .mi-, fi >&^d'i.r «mkii ^6n.the:tlil&hd Is called, i^ai;^^ia, ;i 'trtn5fe'rfM;.from the main. jSfialhra &afWfem^ Ih-th'e ^old/ii^riailnm f billMlng; adjoining the t^ltery^r*|fiw\ Williams.— 'Shetfturylyiel Jfc-- >\ 'MIS3-lMuUa^Alcptt,says the Bos ton Herad£iVas. : joince visiting .at a smali^p^^ixt .Connect 1 ^' 1 4 to which onljji'f^w '''days.liiei^re'^ exceedingly, sm«il*chHd.ihS^fi6eh^boni. In 'tari ^^dj^^U|Ttatd;'a!'.qu^'\^^^^ . ^WAl^Sifi^in^ I A VPM j^TnT- nr,-> .be^£aarges^.carjejtiln'' W ^$&fffi $M Sf3£SSi §s& '\ife' /world is' belng'^taa'ia'^ttaoS.hf i 3afoul.d;fo6^ of well-wishing men and women/'- ———^» ft,, j&x* r ^, ^ Private ownership in pobltc : \ritni«- ties seems doomed in Europe^isays Charles Edward Russell In ;Erery- body's' Magazine. _ The practical\^dc monstratloin are all againB^it^The; -I most obvious trend of thought is isure- -ly destructive of it OriginaUy^n'tte',.•' cities private ownership, was th *e>rule;-~; In- a few more years i t wilin ^^rVl;: ly found exception. In 'EWpi ^ajt ^ciV^ les,. at least, the' peppW hi^i?3Rifiri^ .satisfied fh«maelx«» ^•Jt'.ltheir'-caiJ^ Virtue,, clwrity,; ^preaaUngiViw^l als, indiyIduaLind'.<^lIecHye ; ^lr3aV| rifice torn J^^s ^^«iMgm !&St§ hackgro ^drOf .,ours^.-^iT^^^ asserts -the Atlanta CorisUtn'Uonh-Su^ to the. great vhurrying, scurrying\ ^ftSsi: He, sncb, topic ^aie '.n6to ^ J JnteMe |lnCi : teresfc Undeniably!, jhey cbiilip^ made so*y-i-;carefur arid- skliffi;*8ciS leading up ;to aril\ goren ^^i^^ dlviaual toslMce .^Th•e^gwite«tJtrsl •S.
