LOVE'S BELIEF.

1 believe if I should die,And you should kiss my ev el ills where I lieCold, dead and dumb to all the world contains,The folded orbs would oj>en at thv breath,And, from its exile in the Isle of Heath,Life would come gladly back along my veins.i believe if I were (lead,And you upon mv lifeless heart should tread?Sot knowing what the poor clod chanced to

be?It would find sudden pulse l>enoath the touchOf him Iever loved in life so much,And throb again, warm, tender, aud true to

thee.

li.I believe if in my grave,Hidden in woody deeps by all the wave,Your eyes should drop some warm tears ofre-

gret,From every Salty seed of your dear grictSome lair sweet blossom would lean into leafTo prove that death could not make my love

forget.

111.I believe if I should fadeInto the rexlms where light is nktiioAnd you should long once more my face to

see,

I would come forth u)>on tho hills ofnightAnd gather stars like fagots, till thy sight,Fed by the beacon blaze, fell full on me.I believe mv love for thee(Strong as my life) so nobly placed to be,I cculd as soon expect to sec the sunFall like a dead king from his hights sublime,His glory stricken from the throne oftime,As thee unworthy the worship thou hast won.

IV.

Ibelieve who has not lovedHath half the treasure of his life unproved,Like one who, with the grape within his

grasp.Props it, with all its crimson juice impressed,And all its luscious sweetness left unguessed,Out of his careless and unheeding clasp.I believe love pure and trueIs to the soul, a sweet immortal dew,That gems life's fiet&ls in the hour of dusk,The waiting angels see and recognizeThe rich crown jewel love of Paradise.When life falls from us like a withered husk."

HONEST OLD ABE.

Ox the Caes, April 12.?"How didLincoln ever come to go into that gro-cery at Salem?" I inquired of Mr. Green.

"He and a man by the name of Berrybought it out," replied Mr. Green,"thinking they were getting a great bar-gain; and they were, had they knownanything about business. But Lincolnwas no financier, and Berry was an un-reliable sort of fellow, and the resultwas not very encouraging."

"Who did they buy of?""Of me.""You?""Yes. You see it was this way. A

man by the name of Ratford came fromIbe South and started a grocery at Salem.His wife's sister lived near here, andthey wanted to be together. It was thefashion then to keep liquor in the grocer-ies, and once in a while a crowd fromsome of the surrounding settlementswould gather at Salem, get to drinkingand make things iiveiy nil o --

above us here there was such a crowd,and those composing it used to be calledhe 'C'lary Grove set.' Ratford's brother-n-law knew them pretty well, and thefirst time he went down to Salem he toldthe former that he was afraid he wouldhave trouble with them.

"Why, I'llfight any of 'em," said Rat-

ford. .

"That won't do any good,' said hisbrother-in-law. "If one can't lick you,two will try, and if two can t do it, thewhole crowd will jump on him. Thebest way is to wait quietly tillthey comeand try to make friends with them. Don tgive them too much whisky, and may

be you can do it.""So Ratford sat down to wait. A week,

two weeks, three weeks passed, and thedreaded pang did not come. Finally hiswife, wishing very much to visit her sis-ter, they concluded to leave a youngerbrother in charge of the store and go upand spend Tuesday with her. They went,and that very evening the Clary Groveset rode into town. They wanted a drinkand they pot it. They wanted anotherand got that. When they called for athird, the young man in charge told themthey hail enough and he could not sellthem any more.

"You won't!" said the leader.'Boys!" he yelled, "he ain't goin' to sellus no more pizen! Oh, no, uv course

he won't!" aud a yell of derision went

up."Hie boys tenderly lifted the little

weights from the counter and merrilybegan plugging the glass jars on theshelves. Remonstrance was useless, andin ten minutes the tloor was strewn withcopperas, alum, spice, ginger, sulphur,nutmegs, etc. etc., anklo deep. Thenthey tapped the whisky barrel, and fil-ling themselves full of Iteuzine, rodeont of town yelling like a band of SiouxIndians.

"The homes of the 'set' were in theneighborhood of Ratford's brother-in-law's, and about i o'clock in the morn-

ing the yelping of dogs, the clatter ofcow-bells, and the whoops of the 'set' re-turning home aroused Ratford and thehousehold.

"That," said the brother-in-law, "isthe Clary Grove set. Ratford, they'vebeen to Salem, and I'm afraid the gro-cery is gone up."

"Ratford was very much excited, andgoing to the stables mounted a horseand started away for Salem.

"It happened that the same morningI, then a boy still in my teens, hadstarted on horseback witl» a grist for thenull at Salem. The mill was a smallaffair, and unless one was early on theground he had to wait a long time forhis grinding. Iwas riding into Salemtbont daylight when Ratford dashed byme, bis horse covered with foam, andreined np at the door of his grocery.There was a small'window at one end,and aa he got off and stood is the door Irode alongside of the window and lookedis.

"You see that picture on tho wallthere," said Mr. Green. "Well, that isa rough drawing of the grocery, anil ofmyself and liatford, and the town as itwas that morning. As I was wonderingat the ruin inside, Ratford, almost burst-ing with anger, struck his lists togothorand cried?

"I'll sell this grocery to tho lirst manthat makes an offer for it."

"Looking .iu at the window I sangout, 'I'll give you $400 for it."'

"Allright, you can have it," said he."I didn't know what I was buying,

but it looked to me as if it was stillworth twice that. I told him who I was,that I didn't have the money, but wouldgive my note, and there and then thotrade was made. I was still standingamid the broken jam, hardly knowingwhat 1 had done, when Lincoln cameacross from his boarding-house andlooked in.

"What's up, Bill!"said he."Itold him what I had done, and he

laughed till he nearly cried. It lookedso funny, he said, to see mo standingthere in the copperas and sulphur, anewly fledged merchant. "You musthave an inventory right away," said he.iTemember that was the first time I hailever heard the word inventory, and Ihad kind of a dim sort of notion that itmeant another smasli-up; so I said,"Much obliged, Lincoln, but I don'twant any more inventories here." Thenhe laughed, and explained, and prettysoon came over and helped mo to take anaccount of stock. We found when wegot through that there were about §1200worth of goods, and I felt pretty wellover my bargain. Then Berry cameround. He talked to Lincoln, andfinally they offered to take up my noteto liatford, give me a horse, saddle andbridle that Berry had, and $250 cash formy bargain, and I accepted it. Thomoney was all in silver, and that night Istarted home (I had sent the grist backduring the day) feeling pretty proud.

"It was rather late when I got to thehouse, and when I opened the door,father, who slept in the room, grutHvcried out, 'Who's that?'

"It's me," said I."Oh, it's the marchant," he exclaimed,

derisively. "Who you goiu' to get toclerk for you? You pack off to bed now,mighty ipiick. I'll give you 'store' inthe morning."

"Ho was very mad, but instead of go-ing to bed I threw some kindling on thetire, and it blazed up, making a brightlight. I took a handful of silver out andthrew it on the table. "

"What's that?" said father."I've sold the store," I replied."O, you bev," said be. "And how

much did you make?""Idon't know," said I. "I want to

get it out of my clothes," and I l>egantossing the silver in all directions, draw-ing it out of every pocket. Pretty soonhe raised up on his elbows and lookedat me.

_

said1

he? Still I went on until be openedhis eyes in amazement, and then I told

him what I had done."Here. Lizzie," be cried to mother, as

I got through. "Get up, and get thisboy a good supper. He's had a harddav's work."

"It was all right then?""Well, the result was that Ratford

wouldn't give me up my note and take

Lincoln and Berry 's, but let it remain as

it was, and it afterwards gave Lincolnand mvself infinite trouble. The war

broke "out and things went wrong withthe new tirm. The note went into thehands of Peter Yanbergen, still livingin Springfield, and we renewed it sev-

eral times at twenty-five per cent.Finally it reached ??000, and Lincoln,while dolefully discussing the slim pros-pect of ever paying it, used to call it thenational debt. A few years later I went

into Kentucky to teach school, and Lin-

coln removing to Springfield, U'gan to

earn something at the law. and lietween

us we at last paid it. It was several yearsthough, lwfore lie got ahead enough topay me for my share, but he did at last,

and that was the end of the grocerybusiness." .

"Did Lincoln feel bad over bis fail-ure ?"

"Well, be felt bad at bis inability to

pay the note, which he had agreed to

pav, but he became satified that he was

not cut out for a business man. Douglastold me after his famous campaign withLincoln that he thought one day he

would give the latter a rap over the sa-

loon business, as he calls it, and so betauntingly referred to the fact that he

practiced ltehind the bar at Salem, anddid it with much grace if not with re-markable success.

"Lincoln received the taunt good na-

turally, and, replying, said that thoughhe did not achieve wealth or distinc-tion while engaged on his aide of the

bar at Salem, he was able to testify to the

constancy and aaiduity with which Judge

Douglas practiced on the other side dur-ing the era of grocerykeeping. The audi-ence yelled, and Douglas frankly ac-

knowled tl.«t his tall antagonist had thebetter of him."

"Were you with Lincoln during theBlack Hawk war?"

"Yes. It was not much of a war, outduring our term out many amusing in-cidents occurred. I remember at ltockIsland there was a big fellow namedSam Thompson, who was being 1 jacked

by bis company as the cliampionwrestler of the camp. Finally we j)UtLincoln against him, and bet every dimewe could scrape together. They tookhold, but Thompson got the crotch lockon Lincoln and threw him flat. Theytook hold again, and Lincoln told meafterward* that he knew that Thompaoncould throw him, bat he thought he'd

| let the boys down a* easy as possible, sohe dallied around and pat off the

I fell m long *\u25a0 po««ible. Alter aome

minutes Thompson took the crotch lockon him again, and they came down, butit was not so fair a fall as the first, andour boys claimed it was a 'dog fall.' Theother crowd demanded their money, andin about a minute there were 200 coats

off and a prospect for a free light.Lincoln's influence was then shown.Brushing the sand from his clothes hecried:

"Give up your money, boys! If hedidn't throw me fair he can. I'm will-ing to admit that."

In a moment the angry words werehtuhed, coats wero put on, and with an"All right, Abe, if you say so," thecrowd quietly dispersed.

A year or so after Lincoln's electionI was sitting with him ouo day at theWhite House when he suddenly brokoout with:

"What's become of that man Thomp-son, Bill?"

"What man Thompson?" I inquired."Why, that fellow that threw me in

the camp at Hock Island during theBlack Hawk war," said he.

"I don't know. I haven't thought ofhim for twenty years. Why?"

"Oh, nothing," said Lincoln. "OnlyIthought if you knew where he was I'dgive him a little 'appintment' just toshow him that I didn't bear him anymalice."I don't believe he found Thompson,

anil if the latter is alive I don't knowwhere he is."

1 inquired of Mr. Green aboutLincoln's father, but he never saw himbut onee. That was after the elder Lin-con had married his second wife.

"I was going to Kentucky, said Mr.Green, "and Lincoln insisted that Ishould stop and see his father, as it was'just a little out of the way." He gaveme a letter to him, and I stopped,thoughI fouud that the 'just a little' was verynear fourteen miles. I found his fatherliving in a little cabin that cost perhaps815, and with many evidences of povertyabout him. 1 was disposed to apologizefor my coming, and go away as soon aspossible, but I found out that thoughLincoln was poor he was mighty hos-pitable, and a very entertaining host inspite of his surroundings. He insistedon my staying all night,and when I won-dered'where I would put my horse hetook the animal, hitchcd him to a roughshed, and poiuting to a kettle that stoodthere, said there never was its equal fora horse-trough. It was a manger whichwould hold grain, hay and water, andLincoln seemed to regard it in his drollway with a good deal of pride and satis-faction. He was a capital story-teller?better than his son, if possible? andkept me laughing a great deal. He tookme out of the cabin, and, pointing to acorner where the logs ran through eachother, some of them long and someshort, explained in a serious waythat he bad studied convenience in theerection of that house, and that itwas really something to be very proudOf a lOg lulii iritQcvwu-ways and was high up, 'here is wherewe hang a deer to skin it. 'That,' point-ing to a shorter one, 'is for a calf, and'that,' pointing to a still shorter one, 'iswhere we h»n»; a hog or sheep. It costme time, but it's worth it.' The old mancould not re»d, atd when I handed himthe letter from Abe he passed it over tohis wife, who read it for him. He askedhow his son was gating on, and said hehoped the bqv wouUn't disgrace himself.1 left the old manwith a very warmopinion of bim.I

"I am told," said I, as ML Greenpaused in bis recital, "that yiu werepresent when Lincoln thoulderU thebarrel of whisky, and dink out \f thebnng-liole. How is that? \

"Well, he didn't exactlj drink,'\ saidMr. Green, "for Lincoln never (tankliquor, but he took a swjlow inihismouth, and then spit it at againA Itwas done to win a bet. Y»j see, a iauby the name of Etui top, wi lived utrSalem, was a great fellow t be alwiLaletting with the boys, and Vjning fr<V

I them, on his own tricks. Hhad l>eati4. ?- ? ? ami f»?,. I 1.7

lue a great many times, aml'ter be hdone so one Jay, Lincolnold meought to stop betting with la. 'He',always beat you,' said Lincc, *a nd hiknows it or he wouldn't b» Sow, ayau'll agree to stop it I'lltellm bow toget even with him.' I proved, andLincoln told me to bet Eostatbe nexttime he tame to town, thatcould take up a barrel of wky anddrink out of the bung-hole, hardlybelieved Lincoln could d<Jt ( buthe showed me how easy wu>by getting the barrel on l%nees,to do it, and so the next oppojjty j

tackled Eastep for a bet. He 'cageito do it, but when I wanted to | fon ,

dollar hat ho looked a little Ajged,However, he took the bet, and tyowdgathered round to see the fun. coißtilted the barrel on an end, and.i onto his kees, then rolled it slowlj tillhe bad it in the right position, «th«bung was taken out and he took tya j.low, a* agreed, Eastep lookec jDblank amazement, but bought t,a taud left. I never knew him pet

again after that."We bad listened now to the V

teresting conversation of Mr.-from 10:30 until after 3 o'clock, an eforced to quit our hospitable and ..

taining host to cateh the trainsinterview was a genuine treat to n>

if I have reproduced itwith any Jin these letters, the readers of theOcean have probably been repal

their perusal. They add a mite tstore-house of incidents treasured 1

Nation regarding the great Pres

and, as soeh, possess a value wliicbe increased as the years go by.-Chicago Tribune.

Epitaph for a tram-car conductor!

took hi*laat tar*wall.

Indian fiupertt t'.ons.

A correspondent, writing from Ponca,Nel)., says: Tlie Sioux entertain manyfanciful ideas concerning the futureworld and the condition of those who in-habit it. They believe that for some timeafter death the soul lingers about thebody, in consequence of which idea theyare unwilling to visit "or approach anewly-erected scaffold on which hasbeen deposited one of their dead. Thisfeeling of dread is enhanced by a beliefin the vicious propensities of the latelyfreed spirit, which is inclined to harmthe presumptuous mortal who venturestoo near. A spirit blow is liable to pro-duce death, and is, I believe, alwaysfollowed by direful consequences asdelirium, paralysis, or some permanentinjury. The Sioux, following the prac-tice of many other tribes, place thebodies of the dead on a scaffold raisedon poles some eight or ten feet in height.The corpse is wrapped in folds of clothor blankets and buffalo robes. The oc-cupants of old scaffolds, which are oftenmet with on the plains, resemble Egyp-tian mummies. Persons of distinction,as noted warriors and chiefs, includingsometimes the families of the latter, ireceive more honor in sopulchral rites,their remains being frequently inclosedin boxes?a dry goods or shoe box, ob-tained at the trader's store, answeringthe purpose. Sometimes in the grave-yards of our frontier posts may be seentowering above the stone that marks thewhite man's burial place the scaffold onwhich reposes the body of the Indianchief.

The soul of the doparted Sioux Anallyascends to the milky way, which, in theirsystem, is a highway leading throughspace to the happy hunting-groundswhich lie somewhere in the far-distantregions beyond. To sustain the spiritduring this long journey food and drinkare required. The noted warrior andchief should bo ushered into thoserealms in becoming state; to providewhich, one or more horses must be sacri-ficed. There is an element, of lcfinementin the savage idea Attending the disposi-tion of the supplies thus furnished. Itis not believed that the material food iseaten, nor the actual water drank, northe veritable horse ridden; but in allmaterial resides the soul, and this resi-dent spirit of the food and drink is con-sumed by the spirit of the deceased, andthe spirit of the horse accompanies thespirit of his master to the Indian para-dise, where they are both received intothe spirit land. These provisions ap-pear to be needed only during tlie jour-ney from earth, the probable suppositionbeing that the blissful regions to whichthey are destined wiilbe amply suppliedwith everything that can contribute tothe happiness of its inhabitants.

The Sioux, or at least some of the Da-kota bands, seem to possess quite ancientrecords, embracing prominent events inthe history of the tribe. These relicsof one generation being recorded by anindividual who has received the appoint-ment of historian, in virtue of which hewrites the history of his people duringhis life. On his death another is ap-pointed. Thus the more interestingevents are perpetuated. Among themore prominent that appear in thesebarbarian annals is the account of thecoming of the first white man who ap-peared among them. He is representedin a very favorable light. At first ho-?ame poor and defenceless among theIndians, who gave him a cordial wel-come and ministered to his necessities.He (lid not prove ungrateful, but afterleaving them, returned to the tribebringing articles useful to the Indians'with which he is engaged in trade, the'traffic being continued to the satisfac-

both rod and white men. The recordsinscribed on this parchment, or skinprepared by savage skill, extend back toa remote uate, perhaps reaching overnine huudred years. Tho early portionappears to be of a legendary character, |relating to the creation of man on thiscontinent, or at least the first appearanceof the Indian race. The Black Hillswas

I the theatre of the earliest of those his-toric or mythological events. Perhapsthe fondness of tho Sioux for this specialterritory, and their reluctance to partwith it, was owing to the associationsponnected therewith, as in Dakota annalsllio Black Hillsappears to have constitu-te! a new-world garden of Eden.\ The superstitious element of IndianJaracter is manifested in the peculiarHKard paid the medicine man of thetibe, and the implicit confidence withwuch his meditations are received andhiladvice followed. Perhaps among allfefcion known to mankind the priestsexat no greater influence over themi ills of their followers than does theDieacinc man of the North Americanw. v5«. His incantations were watchedwitlmhe most profound respect, and theresul thereof awaited in fear and trein-

bnnd Their fortune in hunting andtheirkucceas in war are foretold by, andperlu*>s depend ui>on, the invocationsand ni sterious charms of the medicineman. IHis rude lodge is invested with amysteious awe equal to that whichhallowlthe stately temple whose granddome ftiwers above the habitations ofhalf a million worshippers in otherlands. Many of their dances and othereeremoqes partake of the Bame reliuiousiharactef. The great Dakotah festivalthe sun lance, appears to partake both*m a religious and patriotic character

iiin? T° continuance, which is Ken-;rally forkhreo days, various ceremonies»keplac«i perhaps the moat prominent

u 7 lb® self-torture inflicted byaeyoungknen to give evidence of their

their endurance. Therhite visit*to the scene is attracted byhe ghaatU, spectacle of men in Tar-?".* undergoing all the pun

m capable of sustain-

ing. Vitrorous methods are devised toexhibit the courage of the sufferer, andparticularly with the design of attractingthe admiration of the spectators. Onefavorite method is to cut incisionsthrough the skin of the back, and thenthrough these pass thongs, the ends ofwhich are secured to some support aboveafter which the victim throws his weighton the rope and remains in this positionuntil unconsciousness or the settingsun gives relief. There appears to bea like element pervading all bar-barous or semi-barbarous religions. Thepriests of Baal cut themselves andlifttheir bleeding hands in supplicatiouto heaven. The followers of Brahmainflict physical torture as a powerful aidto their invocations. The worshippersof Odin and Thor delighted in pain andbloodshed. The druidical priests offeredhuman sacrifices. The natives of theNorth American plains, in their greatannual festival, indulge in ceremoniessimilar in nature to those practiced cen-turies ago in the mountains of Syria, theforests of Scandinavia and Germany, anduntil a recent day in Hindostan.

RormonUm.

The decision of the Federal SupremeCourt in the Miles ease records again thefailure of the Government to secure theconviction of a Mormon guilty of per-sistent and long-continued crime againstthe laws of the United States. The ma-shinery of the law proves powerless topunish a crime in whose defense an en-tire community is united, chiefly be-cause the law attacks tho crime from afalse position. In a polygamous mar-riage, as in all illicitunions followinganillegal marriage ceremony, there are twolistinct crimes. The illegal marriage)r bigamy?and adultery. A polyga-mous family is not merely a group whosomembers are guilty of bigamy, but it isilso a household in which a man and wo-man are living together in an adulterousinion which is too often shared bymother and daughter, by aunt or niece,ay sisters and in some hopeless and re-volting cases by grandmother, motherind daughter.

As this foul and reeking crime hasbeen preceded by a marriage ceremonyDotween tho man and all his so-calledwives it is natural to attack it as bigamy;but the very essence of bigamy, theimpulse which gives edge to pros-ecutions for this crime in health-ier communities the protest and ven-geance of the earlier wife whoserights are defrauded, are wanting.Every criminal lawyer is familiar withtho difficulty of obtaining convictionunder an indictment for bigamy wherethe women concerned both refuse toippear. This is the organized condition»f affairs in Utah. Hut thoro is no diffi-Julty in securing conviction if the attackis shifted and the man is indicted foridultery for which he is also guilty.

Tho law rightly assumes guilt upon

the sexes. The constitution of a Mor-mon household itself offers open lejral\u25a0djUteiy and forniflcation be--ween jts walls, and tho Government willaot succeed in stamping out polvtramv

until it attacks this crime under a lawwinch attacks all.illicit unions betweenthe sexes as crimos and make thorn pun-ishable as such. They are so ~mushedin this State and,while such prosecutionsV "buxo(l blackmail, their effectis in the main healthy. Such a law wouldmake polygamy dangerous in Utah itmight endanger some of tho men whokoted for it in Washington; but it wouldbe just, artd it is the only sound method>o crush a flagrant crime whose real of-enso is not seoret marriage ceremonv,but the open, flagrant ami adultroui

union ot the sexes in tho name of reliir-on and in defiance of the common law.

Tbe Horrible F jId India.One of In, peßt)) is the metallieblue-fly. Yon sink Hie legs of vour fur-niture into metalio sockets filled withsuit and water, un.l pack your clothing intight tin boxes, to prevent the incursionsof the white unts; but you have no rem-edy against the ; metallic blue-fly, whichfills every crevice, every key-hole, andevery key itself with clay. This fly isan artistic as well as an industriouswoiker, and he works always with anobject. He first selects a hole, a key-

hole or an empty space in any metallicsubstance is preferred, but in the ab-sence of such material the holes in thebottom of a cane-seat chair or any iier-forated wood will answer the purposeAfter seeing that the hole is clean hecommences operations by laving on' thebottom a smooth carpet of clay; then theiwhes of several defunct spidersare triumphantly placed upon theeay carpet. On top of those spiders'jje '*>lU'4,e % «re deposited,rhe tomb is then ready for closing; the

i? Mi"ial y covoml OTt>r with clay, butitmll a " look; this iaremedied by a thin coat of whitewashand then the fly looks upon his work

, l.,r"nouu<-es it good. When thistomb is opened there are more motuilictbß W°rld than we«h fore. You are anxious to examine orwearsome of your valuables, which youalways keen under lock and koy, and youtuke your key and endeavor to unlockyour trunk, but it is only an endoavorliiere is resistance in the key-hole. Yonexamine the key, and find that it isnicely sealed np with day, and the key-| hole in the same condition. It is a workof pahence to destroy the nursery oftniniT, *"d ,a>' hi» eastle iaruins, but a determined will can accom-plish much. k Cane-seatedsometimes so occupied by these olavhomes mto itjwrdZ d!Tm£what the original substance ? ? [ r?Uy Utter Z NaUoaal UpuWW.