Year: 1874

A SCRAMBLE IN THE DARK.-A resluent
of ward 16 in Boston, believing that drinking
liquor was pernicious custom, resolutely set
his face against the saloons, and put barrel
of ale in his cellar. On the first evening OF
the purchase he repaired to the cellar to tap
his ale, taking kerosine lamp with him. On
reaching the barrel he very thoug ghtfully sat
the lamp on the floor in direct line with the
spot he was about to tap, and taking the
faucet in one hand he drove in the bung, and
meant to have applied the faucet at once.
But the power at the vent was so great that
the faucet was knocked from his hand, and
the lamp being in direct range was upset and
put out in flash. A less sanguine party
would have straightway plunged upstairs tor
another lamp, but he'd find the faucet in the
dark ifit took him seventy-fve years to do it.
He dropped on his knees, and deserted various
circles with his hand, while the foaming,
suffering ale whistled uninterruptedly. He
moved around swifter and swifter, losing the
calmness born of his determination, at every
unsuccessful return of his encircled hand.
He bumped his head against other barrels
and scratched his knees on the floor, and was
bombarded in the face and neck and under
the coat tail by the fierce steam. But he
would find that faucet. He beat the cement
ed surface with his fist, and prayed, and
howled, and screamed, and wept. But he
wouldn't 90 after light. The flying ale got
into his throat and choked him, and ran into
his nose and made him sneeze. 1t ran from
his eyes and his ears, and down his neck and
face from his hair. But he wouldn't give up.
And down there on his knees in the dark and
flying liquid, he stayed like an honest and
honorable citizen until he had found that
faucet, and jammed it into the barrel. Then
he felt his way upstairs, and appeared to his
family with a want of congruity painful to
behold. The blood from scratch over the
eye had mingled with the fecks of foam and
trickling ale, and those in turn were loaded
with dust and cobwebs. His hair and cloth
ing were saturated and one eye was complete.
ly closed, while the other glared upon the
horror.stricken family in unconscious ferocity.
But he had found that faucet, and he would
have found it if he had stayed down there
until Canada had frozen over 1--WE think he
said Canada.) Then he went up stairs and
got into bed.-Danbu'y Ne,rs.


A LADY LAwYER-About the year 1776
Nicholas Linguet, the celebrated Partisan
journalist and lawyer, was at the height of his
fame He enjoyed great reputation for his
skill in getting up cases, and for surrounding
them with such dramatic accessories as were
likely to tell on the minds of excitable French
Judges. One day beautiful lady, Madame
de Bethune, came to ask his professional SER
vices in an action about some land, which she
wished to bring against the Marshal Duke
de Broglie, great grandfather of the present
minister. Linguet had scarcely heard her to
the end when he said, "You are 30 lovely,
madame that your face is worth speech in
itself. What III do is this l will write
speech. You shall learn it by heart, and
then rehearse it to me. When you deliver it
in court you must be dressed in light blue
silk, the color best suited to your style of
beauty, and ifyou speak as shall direct you,
l defy any bench Of Frenchmen to find for
the defendant" The event proved that Lin
guet knew human nature and his own coun-
trymen WE'LL Madame de Bethune turned
out the most apt of scholars She learned
her speech thoroughly, and delivered it with
all the graces of style and manner that might
nave U6lOuSGu W uulSIlCu dCtICos. IL laSt0u
seven hours, and seven hours she held the
judges entranced.


Midway in the speech, and probably with
gallant care of the lady's fatigue, they ad-
journed to dinner, but it was already pretty
evident which way the judgment inclined.
Irascibility would seem to be indigenous to
the De Broglie family. During the interval
that the sitting was suspended, the marshal
sought out Linguet in the Pleaders Hall, and
shaking bis cane in his face, cried, angrly,
"Just make your client speak her own words,
and not yours, Master Linguet, or it will be
the worse for you-do you hear?" Linguet
bowed low, and replied, with ready wit, ely
Lord, you have taught Frenchmen never to
fear their enemies, and l mean to remember
the lesson"


The delicate piece Of fattery more than
counterbalanced the unpalatable determine
ton it conveyed, for we hear of no unpleas-
ant consequences to Maitre Linguet, and we
are told that the beautiful Madame de Be-
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