it to 'em hotfoot. I told 'em they'd probably find her imbedded in the mud near Ten Degree curve. "Yessir, that was her I saw comin' at me round that curve. She was goin' so fast, 'n' bein' light, with no cars to steady her, when she started to take the curve she jumped the rails 'n' buried herself in the mud 'n' water in the swamp a hundred feet to the right of the track. They dug her up, but never put her in commission again, as she was famous for runnin' away."-New York Sun. need of bloodshed. You can get all your rights without violence. "Call up the terrible power of social excommunication. If any man is evicted from his holding, let no man take it. If any man is mean enough to take it, don't shoot him, but treat him with scorn and silence. Let no man, no woman, talk to him or to his wife or children. If his children appear in the streets, don't let your children speak to them. If they go to school, take your children away. If the man goes to buy goods in a shop, tell the shopkeeper that if he deals with him, you will never trade with him again. If the man or his folks go to church, leave as they enter. If ever death comes, let the man die unattended, save by the priest, 324, AT THE RIGHT; TO THE LEFT COLORADO & SOUTHERN RY. TRAIN.-BRO. J. A. LACKEY, DIV. 1880. Mr. Redpath says that there was a "Well, now, let me talk very plainly about two tender topics. I honor every man who sheds his blood for his country or who is willing to do it. But there is no and let him be buried unpitied. The sooner such men die the better for Ireland. If the landlord takes the land for himself, let no man work for him. Let his potatoes remain undug, his grass uncut, his crop wither in the field. This dreadful power, more potent than armies-the power of social excommunication-has been most used in our time by despots in the interest of despotism. Use it, you, for justice! No man can stand up against it except heroes-and heroes don't take the land from which a man has been evicted. In such a war the only hope of success is to wage it without a blow-but without pity. Mrs. Boycott went from cabin to cabin that night to coax the people to come and work for her husband at their own very moderate terms. They came. When rent day came, Boycott sent for the tenants. His day of vengeance had dawned-as he thought-but it proved his day of doom. Boycott issued the eviction papers and hired a process server and got eighteen constables to protect him. Next morning when Mrs. Boycott went to buy bread, the shopkeeper told her that although she was a decent woman and they all liked her, yet the people couldn't stand that 'baste of a husband of hers any longer," and they A BUNCH OF DEER FEEDING IN COLORADO.-BRO. J. A LACKEY, PHOT. The land agitation suddenly aroused the tenantry to a sense of their power, which they could wield without violating any law, if they would combine and act as one man. The first use of this power against Boycott was made when he sent one summer for the tenantry of the estates for which he was agent to cut the oats on his own farm. The whole neighborhood declined to work for him. The willful old fellow swore he would not be dictated to-he had always dictated to them. So he and his nephews and his nieces and three servant girls and herdsmen went down to the fields and began to reap and bind. He held out three hours but could not stand it longer. really couldn't sell her Boycott was isolated. care of his own cattle. four hundred acres. any more bread. He had to take His farm was of Boycott wrote to the Times and the English landlords organized a relief expedition; fifty men were hired and seven regiments of soldiers were sent to protect them. It cost the British Government $5,000 to dig $500 worth of potatoes. The term Boycott was invented three days afterward by Father John O'Malley, who used it in the Castlebar Telegraph. The young orators of the Land League in Dublin took up the word, and it became famous at once.- Metal Polishers' Journal. The Robber in the Berry Patch. Wild strawberries were at their best when little Philip took the red basket an old Indian woman gave his grandmother long ago, and went to the pasture to get some berries, some real big ones, for his grandfather. Dot, the bob-tailed kitten, went along too. She had always been invited when anything was going on. As he went through the sheep pasture, the old black ram stamped with his forefoot and shook his head, but Philip got safely through the bars and found a nice patch of strawberries right there. He found some big checker berries, too, and put them in, and after a long time he The basket was almost full when he heard a little bird call. "Tweet, tweet, tweet!" it said. "Oh," said Philip, "that means you want me to go away. Gran'pa told me that was what you meant when you said that. You have a nest here and I will find it." Almost by accident he saw it hidden beside a stone in the long, dry grass. In it were three speckled brown eggs, no larger than the big blue bead on his mother's necklace. All the while the anxious ground-bird called to him: "Tweet, tweet! go away, go away!" Philip heard and understood, but he wanted those eggs as soon as he saw them. He knew they were not his, but BRO. J. A. LACKEY, OF DIV. 324, WITH HIS DOG, AND MR. S. CHAPMAN, BRAKEMAN O. S. L. RY., HUNTING PRAIRIE CHICKENS, GATHERING IN NINE OF THE FEATHERED TRIBE. had the basket more than half full. "Most 'nuff for a cake," he murmured. Then a great yellow and black butterfly came sailing by, almost as low as his head, and he had to set the berries on a flat stone and watch it till it floated slowly away over the wall. Just as he began picking berries again, a little rabbit hopped around a blueberry bush and sat up to look at him. Its tail looked like a bit of cotton and its long ears flopped back and forth in a delightful way; but though bunny seemed asking him to come and play, Philip kept bravely at his work. "Have to get a lot for gran'pa," he said as he turned to his task again. himself, "I guess I can if I want to." was At that moment the bluejay screamed loudly from the top of a tall maple. Philip felt as if he had been accused openly. He knew what the jay said-he had heard it read from his own storybook. Thief, thief!" called the jay again and flew away. Just at the gate of the orchard Dot came purring out to meet him. She was glad to see him, for she had given up following him when he was halfway to the pasture and now out to welcome him back. "I guess my kitty won't care about just one egg," he said and rubbed her head affectionately. "See, Dot, what I have brought." But Dot did not understand at all, and when he put the egg before her she went off across the lot and never stopped till she was under the barn. 'Oh, dear! I wish I had not picked these berries. I wish I had never seen any nest. Everything is wrong, and a very discontented boy sat down under a tree not caring to go home, not knowing what to do with that egg which he, Philip Franklin, had stolen. He wondered if God knew about what he had done, and if God really cared for one bird's egg. Yes, sure enough, his Sunday-school teacher told him once God cared for the sparrows. He was sure this was not a sparrow, but maybe He cared for all the birds. He almost decided to take the egg back to the nest, and just then there was a rush of feet behind him and he was struck between the shoulders and knocked far to one side. His berries fell all about him. He was not sure what had happened, but it seemed as if an earthquake had killed him because he was such a very wicked boy. Then the hired man was picking him up and trying to help get the breath back into his shaking little body. "That black ram is terrible when he gets loose,' the man was saying. "My! he struck you hard. I hope you are not hurt much. I was just changing the sheep over into the other pasture and I did not know you were anywhere near." Philip choked back his sobs. He was glad it was not because he was wicked that he was hurt, but he felt that things were going wrong for him. After a while the hired man went away and he picked up the strawberries, for they were not spoiled. To his surprise the egg was not broken, though it had fallen with the berries. He knew exactly what he wanted to do then. He hung the little red basket on the tree and carried the egg away back to the nest. A brown body whirred past as he stooped above it, and again he heard the bird calling to him to go away. "She doesn't understand," he said. But as he went According to Sir Samuel Wilkes, Fahrenheit constructed his thermometer from one made many years before by Sir Isaac Newton. "In the Transactions of the Royal Society for 1701 will be found the paper written by Sir Isaac Newton, who was at that time Secretary to the Society," says Sir Samuel. "He invented an instrument for measuring the degrees of heat in fluids by taking a tube and filling it with linseed oil. On this he marked the freezing point as zero by putting the tube in ice, and in the same way he marked the point when placed in boiling water. The very awkward scale which we now use is evidently that of Newton, for, the decimal system not being then in use, he took the number 12 to denote the heat of the body; this he found, and made it the starting point of his scale, both upward and downward. "It was some time after this that, for the sake of convenience, the degrees were divided into two, and thus the body heat was 24 above zero and boiling point 53. When, many years afterward, Fahrenheit made his instrument and used mercury instead of linseed oil, which was far more convenient, he again divided these degrees into four, so if the number be multiplied accordingly we have 212 for the boiling point and 96 for the body heat. "Fahrenheit, finding he could get a lower temperature than freezing, made not alleviate or avert it, but not go out seeking more trouble. We often suffer more from the trouble we anticipate than from that which really comes. In Whimlets, Mr. Stinson says: "The greed of mankind oft is shown Goes out to borrow more." Some pain we must endure. Our joys would not be half so keen did we not know grief. Let us bear the pain which comes nobly as a discipline by which our characters are refined and strengthened. By suffering pain we are taught many lessons. "The burnt child dreads the fire." Let us bear the pain we must, but we are not called upon to seek trouble or go out to meet it by anticipation. We need not this point zero, which brought the number 8 of Newton's to 32 of Fahrenheit. In this way the thermometer was constructed."-Chicago News. The Evil of Borrowing Trouble. Don't borrow trouble. We shall all find we have enough to bear without "borrowing" that which is not put upon us. We are apt to imagine that this or that might happen and what should we do if it should. We shall need all the strength and wisdom we can muster to meet that which does come without wasting our forces on what may never occur. Let us endure the trouble that actually comes, if we can C. F. Fabyan, Div. 388. be like the woman, who, sitting before a cheerful grate fire, weeps on reflecting what dire results would be the consequence if a brick should fall from the chimney and fall on the head of the infant which the stork had not yet brought to that household. She might better have taken her pleasure in the charm of a grate fire. Let us enjoy our cozy corners and happy hours when we come to them and not waste them in senseless fears for what may (or may not) happen. It is a bad habit to be ever expecting trouble. It is squandering hours of life that might be used to better purpose. We are losing joys that should rightfully be We should bear in mind that as we cannot have complete happiness without ours. |