I went to the fourth counter to the left, and showed my sample to a salesman. He looked at it, and said:

"You'll get this down on the first floor-calico department."

I turned on my heel, descended in the elevator, and went out on Broadway. I was thoroughly sick of red calico. But I determined to make one more trial. My wife had bought her red calico not long before, and there must be some to be had somewhere. I ought to have asked her where she bought it, but I thought a simple little thing like that could be bought anywhere.

I went into another large dry-goods store. As I entered the door a sudden tremor seized me. I could not bear to take out that piece of red calico. If I had had any other kind of a rag about me-a pen-wiper or anything of the sort -I think I would have asked them if they could match that. But I stepped up to a young woman and presented my sample, with the usual question.

"Back room, counter on the left," she said.

I went there.

"Have you any red calico like this?" I asked of the lady behind the counter.

"No, sir," she said; "but we have it in Turkey red."

Turkey red again! I surrendered.

"All right," I said, "give me Turkey red."

'How much, sir?" she asked.

"I don't know,--say five yards."

The lady looked at me rather strangely, but measured off five yards of Turkey red calico. Then she rapped on the counter and called out "cash!" A little girl, with yellow hair in two long plaits, came slowly up. The lady wrote the number of yards, the name of the goods, her own number, the price, the amount of the bank-note I handed her, and some other matters, probably the color of my eyes, and the direction and velocity of the wind, on a slip of paper. She then copied all this in a little book which she kept by her. Then she handed the slip of paper, the money, and the Turkey red to the yellow-haired girl. This young girl copied

the slip in a little book she carried, and then she went away with the calico, the paper slip, and the money.

After a long time-during which the girl probably took the goods, the money, and the slip to some central desk, where the note was received, its amount and number entered in a book, change given to the girl, a copy of the slip made and entered, girl's entry examined and approved, goods wrapped up, girl registered, plaits counted and entered on a slip of paper and copied by the girl in her book, girl taken to a hydrant and washed, number of towels entered on a paper slip and copied by the girl in her book, value of my note, and amount of change branded somewhere on the child, and said process noted on a slip of paper and copied in her book-the girl came to me, bringing my change and the package of Turkey red calico.

I had time for but very little work at the office that afternoon, and when I reached home I handed the package of calico to my wife. She unrolled it and exclaimed:

Why, this don't match the piece I gave you!"

"Match it!" I cried. "Oh, no! it don't match it. You didn't want that matched. You were mistaken. What you wanted was Turkey red-third counter to the left. I mean Turkey red is what they use."

My wife looked at me in amazement, and then I detailed to her my troubles.

66

'Well," said she, "this Turkey red is a great deal prettier than what I had, and you've got so much of it that I needn't use the other at all. I wish I had thought of Turkey red before."

"I wish from, my heart you had," said I.

-Scribner's Monthly.

THE MILLER OF DEE.-EVA L. OGden.

The moon was afloat,

Like a golden boat

On the sea-blue depths of the sky,

When the miller of Dee

With his children three,

On his fat red horse rode by.

"Whither away, O miller of Dee?

Whither away so late?"

Asked the toll-man old, with cough and sneeze
As he passed the big toll-gate.

But the miller answered him never a word,
Never a word spake he.

He paid his toll and he spurred his horse,
And rode on with his children three.

"He's afraid to tell!" quoth the old toll-man,
He's ashamed to tell!" quoth he.

66

"But I'll follow you up and find out where You are going, O miller of Dee!"

The moon was afloat,

Like a golden boat

Nearing the shore of the sky,

When, with cough and wheeze,

And hands on his knees,

The old toll-man passed by.

"Whither away, O toll-man old?

Whither away so fast?"

Cried the milk-maid who stood at the farm-yard bars

When the toll-man old crept past.

The toll-man answered her never a word;

Never a word spake he.

Scant breath had he at the best to chase

After the miller of Dee.

"He won't tell where!"

Said the milk-maid fair,

"But I'll find out!" cried she.

And away from the farm,

With her pail on her arm,

She followed the miller of Dee.

The parson stood in his cap and gown,

Under the old oak-tree.

"And whither away with your pail of milk,
My pretty milk-maid?" said he;

But she hurried on with her brimming pail,
And never a word spake she.

"She won't tell where!" the parson cried.
"It's my duty to know," said he.

And he followed the maid who followed the man
Who followed the miller of Dee.

After the parson, came his wife,

The sexton he came next.

After the sexton the constable came,

Troubled and sore perplext.

After the constable, two ragged boys,
To see what the fun would be;
And a little black dog, with only one eye,
Was the last of the nine who, with groan and sigh,
Followed the miller of Dee.

Night had anchored the moon
Not a moment too soon

Under the lee of the sky;

For the wind it blew,

And the rain fell, too,

And the river of Dee ran high.

He forded the river, he climbed the hill,

He and his children three;

But wherever he went they followed him still,
That wicked miller of Dee!

Just as the clock struck the hour of twelve,
The miller reached home again;

And when he dismounted and turned, behold!
Those who had followed him over the wold
Came up in the pouring rain.

Splashed and spattered from head to foot,

Muddy and wet and draggled,

Over the hill and up to the mill,

That wretched company straggled.

They all stopped short; and then out spake

The parson; and thus spake he:

"What do you mean by your conduct to-night,
You wretched miller of Dee ?"

"I went for a ride, a nice cool ride,

I and my children three;

For I took them along as I always do,"

Answered the miller of Dee.

"But you, my friends, I would like to know
Why you followed me all the way?"

They looked at each other-" We were out for a walk,
A nice cool walk!" said they.

ᏃᏃᏃᏃᏃ

LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN, 1863-BEUTELSBACH, 1880. GEORGE L. CATLIN.

"Yah, I shpeaks English a leetle; berhaps you shpeaks petter der German:"

"No, not a word.”—“ Vell den, Meester, it hardt for to be oonderstandt.

I vos drei yahr in your coontry, I fights in der army mit Sherman

Twentieth Illinois Infantry-fightin' Joe Hooker's commandt."

"So you've seen service in Georgia—a veteran, eh?” “ Vell I tell you

Shust how it vos. I vent ofer in sixty, und landt in Nei

York;

I shpends all mine money, gets sick, und near dies in der Hospiddal Bellevue;

Ven I gets petter I tramps to Cheecago to look for some vork."

"Pretty young then, I suppose ?" Yah, svansig apout; und

der beoples

Vot I goes to for to ask for vork dey have none for to geef; Efery von laughs; but I holds my head up just so high as

der steeples.

Only dot var comes along, or I should have die, I belief."

Ever get wounded? I notice you walk rather lame and unsteady.

Pshaw! got a wooden leg, eh? What battle? At Lookout? don't say!

I was there too-wait a minute, your beer glass is empty

already,

Call for another. There! tell me how 'twas you got

wounded that day."

"Vell, ve charge ope der side of der mountain, der sky vas all smoky and hazy;

Ve fight all day long in der clouds, but I nefer get hit until night

But I don't care to say mouch apout it. Der poys called me foolish and crazy,

Und der doctor vot cut ofe my leg, he say, 'Goot'-dot it

serf me shust right.