"Get out!" she screamed; "get out, or I'll call the gar de er!" "I will get out, madam, but I wish you understood—” "J-a-w-n! J-a-w-n!" she shouted out of a side window, but the exterminator agent was out of the yard before John uld get around the house. He seemed discouraged as he walked down the street, but he had traveled less than a block when he saw a stout woman sitting on the front steps of a fine residence, fanning herself. "Stout women are always good-natured,” he soliloquized as he opened the gate. "Haven't got anything for the grasshopper sufferers!" she called out as he entered. There was an angelic smile on his face as he approached the steps, set his trunk down, and said: "My mission, madam, is even nobler than acting as agent for a distressed community. The grasshopper sufferers do not comprise a one-hundredth part of the world's population, while my mission is to relieve the whole world." "I don't want any peppermint essence," she continued as he started to unlock the trunk. "Great heavens, madam, do I resemble a peddler of cheap essences?" he exclaimed. "I am not one. I am here in Detroit to enhance the comforts of the night-to produce pleasant dreams. Let me call your attention to my Sunset Bedbug Exterminator, a liquid warranted to-" "Bed what?" she screamed, ceasing to fan her fat cheeks. "My Sunset Bedbug Exterminator. It is to-day in use in the humble negro cabins on the banks of the Arkansaw, as well as in the royal palace of her Majesty Q-" "You r-r-rascal! you villyun!" she wheezed; "how dare you insult me, m "No insult, madam, it is a pure matter of-" "Leave! Git o-w-t!" she screamed, clutching at his hair, and he had to go out in such a hurry that he couldn't lock the trunk until he reached the walk. He traveled several blocks and turned several corners before he halted again, and his smile faded away to a melancholy grin. He saw two or three ragged children at a gate, noticed that the house was old, and he braced up and entered. "I vhants no zoap," said the woman of the house as she stood in the door. "Soap, madam, soap? I have no soap. I noticed that you lived in an old house, and as old houses are pretty apt to be infested--” “I vhants no bins or needles to-day!" she shouted. “Madam, I am not a peddler of Yankee notions," he replied. "I am selling a liquid, prepared only by myself, which is warranted to-" "I vhants no baper gollers!" she exclaimed, motioning for him to leave. "Paper collars! I have often been mistaken for Shakspeare, madam, but never before for a paper collar peddler. Let me unlock my trunk and show-" "I vhants no matches-no dobacco-no zigars!" she interrupted; and her husband came round the corner and, after eyeing the agent for a moment, remarked: "If you don't be quick out of here I shall not have any shoking about it!" At dusk last night the agent was sitting on a salt barrel in front of a commission house, and the shadows of evening were slowly deepening the melancholy look on his face. -Detroit Free Press. ANNIE'S TICKET. Please, sir, I have brought you the ticket My own little girl I am meanin', The one with the fair hair, you know, God help me, she's one of thim now, sir, It has come on me suddin, ye see, sir; And botherin', too, every way, But the first tears as ever she cost me KKKK* 'Twas on Tuesday night that she sickened; But "Mammie, just think of the music!" It seemed the one thought in her brain; Beggin', "Mammie, oh! please get me ready- I hear the bell ring! where's my ticket? Three days she raved with the fever, With her face and her hands like a flame; The look round the mouth, pinched and drawn like- And she knew it too, sir, the creature, In her weak little voice, “ Mammie, darlin', They'll have beautiful times, I know; . But heaven is like it, and better, "And, Mammie, I ain't a bit frightened; And it seems like the dear lovin' Saviour Take my ticket, dear Mammie, and ask them That hasn't got heaven and Jesus, And then, "wish good-by, Mammie, darlin'," Then the One that she felt close beside her And so I have brought you the ticket, Though my heart, sir, seems ready to break, To ask you to make some poor creature Feel glad for my dead darlin's sake. THE LOST CHURCH.-ROBert Tilney. FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. It is believed that a church once stood in the depths of one of the German oak woods, but at so distant an age that all trace of it has passed away. The peasantry, however, believe that its bells are still heard ringing through the wood, On this legend the poet has founded the following vision: In yon dense wood full oft a bell Is heard o'erhead in pealings hollow; I lately in that wood did stray, Where not a footworn path extended, I heard that ringing-deeper, clearer; The sound descended fuller, nearer. Or more, had passed while I was dreaming, Above the mists, with sunlight streaming. A proud cathedral pile was glowing. Within the blessed heavens blazing. And lo! that sweet bell's music broke That bell was rung by holy power. Yet can I not in words make known Were pious scenes of martyrs sainted. Of women and God's warriors holy. I knelt before the altar there Devotion, love, all through me stealing And all the Heaven's glory fair Was o'er me painted on the ceiling; And lo! when next I upward gazed, The dome's vast arch had burst, and-wonder! The Heaven's gate wide open blazed, And every veil was rent asunder! What glories on mine eyes did fall While thus in reverent awe still kneeling, Of trumpet blast or organ pealing, No words possess the power to tell! Who truly would such bliss be feeling, Go listen to the wondrous bell That, weird-like, through the wood is pealing. THE BLIND PREACHER.-WILLIAM WIRT. It was one Sunday, as I was traveling through the county of Orange, that my eye was caught by a cluster of horses tied near a ruinous, old, wooden house, in the forest, not far from the roadside. Having frequently seen such objects before, in traveling through these States, I had no difficulty in understanding that this was a place of religious worship. Devotion alone should have stopped me, to join in the duties of the congregation; but I must confess that curiosity to hear the preacher of such a wilderness was not the least of my motives. On entering, I was struck with his preternatural appearance. He was a tall and very spare old man; his head, which was covered with a white linen cap, his shriveled hands, and his voice, were all shaking under the influence of palsy; and a few moments ascertained to me that he was perfectly blind. |