*HJE EYENINO BECJOBD, MY LADY. Pipe in hand, my forty .fair Tosses bubbles in the air. (Pleasant occupation!) Really, now 'tis rather strange That a breath can make such change, Yes, a transformation! Just a breath, in pipe of clay, And they grow and sail away, For your delectation; And in each one you may trace— Seel—the image of your face. .So my lady, r;hen 0:1 me Breathes your spirit tenderly, f Lo, a transformation! All the dulneas of my thought, Into filing fancies wrought, By the inopiration, Shimmers into rimes that rise Floating round you, bubblcwise, For your delectation. And behold! These bubbles, too; Each reflects its mistress—you! A SHERIFF'S SALE. BY J. Ul HARBOUR. ~fl -r O one was greatly surprised X when It was announced that 1 \ Lymnn Hart's home and (J" household effects were to bn gold at public auction by the Sheriff of the county. He had "failed," and now he was to be "sold put." Many of his neighbors said they were "dreadful sorry for the Harts." They declared It was "all Lyman's own fault." Old Nat Daki-, the richest man In town, and one who had never been known to give avv.'iy a dollar, stild, sagely: "It Is all very well to talk about gen'roslty, but there's such ti thing aa being Just, before you arc gen'rous, and I've told Lyman Hart so many a time. No man can give away us rock- less ns he did and keep a root' over his bend. Charity's all right, but, the place for It to begin Is at home. There ain't been a week In the past ten years when Lynuin Hart ain't had some one hangln' on to him Unit hadn't no claim on him, an' that he'd ought to have scut to the pool-house. And now he's being soid out. because he can't pay his taxes nor the mortgages on his place and furniture." Nat Duke did not add, but every one knew, that lie hold most, of the notes and mortgages Lynmn Hart could not pay. They knew rhat these notes and mortgages called for a rate of interest higher than old Nat Drake could have exacted bud he not taken advantage of Lyuiau Hart's extreme necessity. They know further that Nat Dako had long coveted the Hurt farm bc- cause it adjoined his own, and that he secretly rejoiced over the distress which enabled him to take the farm from Lyirian Hart. Even his kinder and truer friends were of the opinion that. Lyman Hart had not been wise. "He alia taken In and done for them that had no earthly claim on him," paid garrulous old Ann Hasklus, who hnd known Lyinan from his boyhood, and whose sorrow for him was sincere. "What earthly claim did his cousin's widow and her three children have on him thnt he should keep them a whole year after his cousin died and loft them without a penny In the •world 'I *And when old Nancy David's husband died and they were taking her to the pool-house, If Lyman Hart didn't moot the keeper of the poor farm with old Nancy in his wagon, nud because she was walling and crying, what did Lyman do? He just got right out of his wagon and lifted her and her poor little bundle of clothes Into It, and took her homo wkh him, and kept her there until sue died, two years later." "He said he did it because o!d Nancy and his mother had been great friends, and because he said Nancy had been good to him when ho was a boy, and had uuvsod his mother through her Inst sickness. That was Lyme Hart all over," Lyman, In his great generosity, had often loaned money unwisely. He had endorsed notes for others because they were unfortunate, and he had bad very many of the notes to pay. The generous man had recognized, possibly without suttlclent carefulness, the high law comprehended In the words, "Bear ye one another's burdens." Tills hnd made him n brother to any one in trouble, and opened his heart to every cry of the needy. And now he was to be sold out under the red flag of the Sheriff! Every one knew thnt old Nathaniel Pake would bid ii, tho house and farm, for lie held heavy mortgages upon them, and there was no one else lu the neighborhood able to buy them. The household furniture, live stock nnd farming utensils wore also to be Hold under a chattel mortgage, and the jood man and his wife and their children would be left almost penniless. Lymnn had a cheerful and hopeful pplrlt, but It was no: to be wondered lit that ho was much oast down when tho Jay of the sale came. He was saddened as much by a knowledge of the fuel tluit those he. luul trusted had been untrue to him as by the loss of his belongings. His plans for the future wen? vague and unformed. He was unfitted for anything but fanning, and ho did uot wish' to engage in any other occupation. Ho would, he said, "begin over again," but he did uot know whore or how he was to begin. The day of tho sale dawned clear nud bright. There had rarely been a fairer ,lmu> day. The long pia/.za In front of the house was tilled with furniture and all sorts of household articles soon to be scattered far and wide. Tho nolghbi»\s and strangers' came in gvo.ut inuuui's to UK> silk; and tramped heavily lu and out of the dismantled rooms, some of them even peering into closets and drawers. They all agreed In this-that it was "too bad," but most of tiiom added that Lymau Hart Uail "brought It ou himself." Tho sale began at ten o'clock, when tho house and farm wore "put up" by Bon Jiirrold, tho big auctioneer from Uio towu live miles distant. He stocd on the porch and read, in n strident voice, the order of the court for the sale of the property. Then he took off his coat and hat, pushed up his shirt sleeves as if preparing for a haud-to- hiind conflict, and called out: "And now, ladles and gentlemen, how much am I offered for this flue property, worth six thousand dollars if It's worth n cout? Fifty acres of It are under cultivation and one hundred more In pasture and woodland, with a good ten-roomed house, fine buru nnd other outbuildings all thrown In. Here they are, ladles and gents. The place would be dirt cheap at six, or even seven thousand dollars, and I'm offered—ho\y much? How much do I hear to stnrr the thing?" "One thousand dollars," snid n small man Avlth a squeaky voice, standing directly below the auctioneer. "One thousand dollars!" roared the auctioneer. "Put that man out! If I hoar nn offor of less than four thousand dollars there'll bo trouble!" "Four Ibous^pd dollars!" called out Dako, In his bold, harsh voice. "Now that's something like," said Ben Jarrold, "but it isn't enough. Give me another bid! It's worth eight thousand dollars this minute." On the outskirts of the crowd a man whom no one know called out. lu a loud distinct voice: "Five thousand dollars!" Kvery one turned and looked at him. Old Nat Dako started and stared at the stranger with a scowl. His mortgage was for four thousand dollars, and he bad expected to bid In tho farm for that sum. Ills savage glance did not disturb the stranger. He was a tall man, not over thirty years of age, with n smooth, sunburned face, "Now that is something like, ladles and gents!" roared Ben Jarrold. "Five thousand will do very well to begin with, but it isn't near its value. I'm offered five thousand dollars. Five thousand, five thousand dollars. .Five thousand, live thousand, nin I offered six?" "Flfty-0i.e hundred!" called out Nnt Dake. "Fifty-five hundred!" said the stranger, and poor Lyman's face brightened. This would enable him to pay all of his debts and save his furniture and farming implements. Uuke's face was dark with rage, and his keen gray eyes flashed as be snarled out: "Fifty-six hundred!" "Fifty-seven!" cried the stranger. "Fifty-eight hundred!" cried Nat Dake, between his set teeth. He loved money, but he loved his own way, and he would spend his dearly prized money rather than be thwarted In anything on which ho had sot his heart. "Fifty-nine hundred!" called out the stranger, coolly. "Six thousand!" almost shrieked Nat Dake, whereupon the strauger called out: "Seven thousand!" ' "Ah:! This is something like!" exclaimed the auctioneer, gleefully rubbing his hands. "How is it. Brother Dako? Will you make it seven thousand live hundred V" Nat Dako hesitated a moment; then he said, savagely: "Yes, I will!" "Good enough!" said Bon. "And now will tho gentleman " "Eight thousand!" exclaimed the gentleman, whereupon Nat Dake, livid with rage, mounted tho nlnzzu steps and called out, defiantly: "Who be you, nud how does any one know that you're making a real bony lldy bid? There's some trick about this! Folks ain't round giving eight thousand dollars for live or six thousand dollar farms! Who be you, and what proof have we got that you mean what you say?" The stranger came forward, mounted the stops, and stood on the other side of Bon Jarrold. ".My name," he said, "is Harvey Mercer, and hero is evidence of my good faith." He drew forth u large leather wallet bulging with bills, and held it up for nil to seo. ".Some of you," ho said, "remember David Mercer, who lived here many years ago." "1 do!" cried scroll voices at once. "lie was rny father, and I was born on the old Mercer place down by tho ferry, about two miles from hero. Lyman Hart and my father wore boys togotliL.-, and when, after they wore men, trouble came to my father, Mr. Hart befriended him in miiny ways. He became security for my father on a note for tifteou hundred dollars, and tUo first mortgage the generous muu put ou this place, I am told, was to raise the money to pay that note. "My father went to the West, whore lie engaged In mining, but for twouty- .livo. years he vxporleuced nothing but III luck. He knew worse poverty there Hum ever ho knew bore, until three mouths ago, when, la Western parlance, he 'struck It rich.' "But his good .'ovtuuo caaio too late for him to enjoy It. While preparing for n trip East for the purpose o£ making restitution to his creditors lie was taken 111, nnd died after a week's Illness. Among his last Instructions to me was a request thnt I should come East and pay Lyman Hart th'e money due him, with full Interest. More thnn this, he charged me to add to it nny sum that might be needed to free Ly- mnn Hart from debt. I wau solemnly urged to do this to show my father's love nnd gratitude to or.e who, he said, was the friend of tb<? friendless nnd the helper of the helpless. My friends, I am here to pay that debt." There was a wild outburst of applause, in the midst of wnlch Lyman Hart stole forward and put his arms around Harvey Mercer nnd hid his bearded face on the young man'a shoulder. When the applause had died awny, Nat Dake, bis face n picture of baffled desire and llerce resentment, said, sncerlngly: "All right, young man, all right, but it won't be- very long before Lyme Hart will be sold out by the ShcrlQ again, If he's as big a fool in the future as he has been In the past." "When thnt time comes, we will hope that Borne other man who owes hlita a debt of gratitude will come to bis relief," said Hnrvcy Mercer, and the crowd cheered again, while the discomfited creditor stalked down the steps, thumping each step savagely with his cane. In ton minutes Lyman Hart's neighbors, men and women, were at work putting down carpets and carrying in furniture, and old Ann Haskins said to Susan Marsh, ns they made a bed togetucr in one of the bedrooms that had been restored to order: "I nllus have thought, nn' I allus will think, an' I nllus have said, an' I allus will say, that tho Lord don't allow any good deed to go unrewarded. He puts it down in the book of His remembrance, an' some lime, an' in some way, He lets it be known that He ain't forgot it." "I reckon you're right, Ann," said Susan. "I know that you are," said Lyman Hurt, who chanced to overhear what Ann had said.—Wnvcrley Magazine. JTow lie Tried to Get Solid. "Now," said the new nsistant editor of the Eaglevillo Beak, "I am going to arrange matters so that It will be easy for me to marry Into a wealthy family." Old Horace Bowlders, the richest man in the town, had been out riding a spirited horse during the afternoon. The animal had become frightened, and Mr. Bowlders had jumped off. No damage whatever was done, but the assistant editor saw an opportunity to play a good card or two, and he was uot disposed to miss It. Henrietta Bowlders was not the prettiest girl in town; still, she was what might be called pood looking, and, being nn only child, her prospects were excellent. So Mr. Snipley, the assitant editor, who was running the paper alone while his chief was nway fishing, hurried to the office of the Beak, after seeing Horace Bowlders jump from his horse, nnd wrote this item for the afternoon edition: "Everybody in Englevllle will be sorry to know that while our esteemed townsman, Horace Bowlders, Esq., was out riding bis spirted charger to-day the animal became frightened and tho old gentleman, who is still as spry as a boy In spite of his many years, dismounted without sustaining any Injury whatever."—Chicago Times-Herald. The Way Things Happen. The following excerpt from Margaret Macauley's little volume ou her brother, which was printed in 180-1 for private circulation, shows Macauley's catlike ability always to fall on his feet "Ouo day Tom said jokingly that there are some tilings which always Inclined him to believe in the predominance to evil In the world. Such, he said, as bread always falling OH the buttered side and the thing you want always being the last you come to. "Now, I will take up volume after volume of this Shakespeare to look for' "Hamlot." You will see that I shall come to It last of all.' The tirst volume he took up opened on 'llnmlot.' Every one laughed. 'What can be a stronger proof of what I said?' cried be; 'for the first time in my life I wished what I was looking for would come up last, and for the lirst time in my life It has come up lirst.J "—Argonaut. The More the Merrier. As a certain country manor in Derbyshire there lived many years ago a Jocund squiro noted as much for his love of a good joke as for his sporting propensities, lioiug out hunting one day, he rode so well that the only rider in front of him was his servant, Sammy. He, however, soon disappeared, as, in vaulting n hedge, he dropped Into an old disused quarry on the other side. The squiro, close on Sammy's heels, Immediately followed. He found Sammy shouting warning as hard as Ills lungs would permit, but he stopped him with: "riam! Sam! Sam! tba' silly fool; bold thy uoise and let a few more come in."—London Spare Moments. A Peculiar I'retllciimeut. Says the London Graphic: "A claim ant at Liverpool protested against the -gross Injustice' of putting him ou the list of voters r>~ a woman, which, the Liberal agent said, had been caused by a printer's error. la the list the applicant appeared as Louisa Instead of Louis. 'This man Is clearly not a woman,' said the Revising Barrister. 'But ue appears In the list as a woman, and I lack the power to make^lm into a man, I'm afraid he'll have to muaiu a woman for another year.'"