Her Hirthday Present. a* jam it'Btim Lr.r : "I. IM,. »■> H'"W» ftotw"! u. tlm lull breaker. hmdeillt ' i at* tiniiii inn. MM Ml MMM >*lll l„«t,.rv «r:. r vrrj * here annoum-ln* I i- art rat m IVek* Vaudeville thru Iff, !• tin of Ihe w unitorftal feiits he would perform Kiiittiliiit! N'fon- one if them> piwi.-rs a fa"e<l tlrc'l tlrl <>n hr way In mil- from the office It was Iti' red I hie think Hint n ninn •miiii ii« the thing* mlmiM to mm* a innn break nut of Jail. lo un !ork fh« dreaded handcuffs Iwfore your very eyes' t tit, no, It was too wonder ful to N-llcte! Slip had often watched n crowd of urchins following n mnn who tiinl twen arrested nml oner tintl seen htm taken to Ihr lockup, hut thnt ■ man could get out of his own free ivlll this seemed Incredible. She gnve n final look at the picture of the man on the pouter. tucked her novel tightly under her arm Hud raov ed Slowly toward home. It wax her "I WANT TO GO HOME. I'LBASE TAKE ME." birthday, and her mother hud given her a dollar to buy herself a present. She still had the dollar, and the thought occurred to her that she could take a girl friend to the vaudeville tonight and see this wonderful man. Then she recalled that her mother objected to girls going to the theater alone. After eating her dinner she decided that she was too tired. She would stay at home. The ringing of the doorbell after din ner aroused her from her lethargy. She went to the door and opened it. "Flello, Janet!" "Why, Billy, won't you come in, or shall we sit on the stoop? It's pretty warm inside." "I came around to see if you would go with me to I'eek's Vaudeville to night. The handcuff king is there, you know, and today is your birthday." "Oh. Hilly, will you really take me? Fvc been longing togo ever since X rend about him. You sit hero on the stoop, and I'll be ready in a jiffy." Billy snt down to wait, and Janet was soon in the midst of her toilet. She donned her best brown frock and flower trimmed hat because she no ticed that Billy had put on his best gray suit and had his cane with him. rhey found the theater packed and were fortunate in securing two bal cony seats. The noisy songs and tire some dialogues which came before the handcuff king's appearance on the bill seemed Interminable. No. 7 finally ap peared his number. He came out— not the strong, big man she had pic tured. lint a lithe, muscular foreigner, and ;he.v chained him hand and foot, locked and relocked the leg irons and handcuffs on and left him there ;« get out ns. bust lie could .lanet hung over trie iialcouv rail, ana Billy's eyes feasted on the bright and happy face beside him. The little fel low on the stage began his act. Slow ly twisting, turning anil writhing, seemingly In great pain, for several moments he made no headway. "Billy, he is being hurt! Why don't some one help him ?" Janet implored. "Of course It hurts Mm, but no one •an help him He must get out alone." "Yes, but that's cruel. Just see the veins in his arms: Oh, Billy, I can't stand it to see a poor man suffer so! fxiok. Billy! Ills face is getting red der and redder every minute'" she cried as she bid her face in her hands There was a deathlike silence in the house. You could hear a pin drop In the awful stillness in which the man held the audience. Janet peeked out between her fingers, but dared not really look. Billy leaned a litlie closer and gave her arm a reassuring pat. It encouraged her to speak. Leaning close to him, she whispered: "Billy, I'm ashamed to tell you, but I want togo home. Please take me. I'm so frightened." "Why. of course, little girl, but 1 thought you wanted to see him get loose." "I—l didn't know It would hurt him." she whispered. Out in the street, with a tight hold on his arm. her fear left her, and when Billy suggested (Jreen's for a plate of Ice cream she nadlly agTeed. Away from the atmosphere of the theater •nd the picture of that writhing, suf fering man she was once more herself. Suddenly .lanet stopped eating, her eyes stared straight ahead, and In stinctively Billy turned to see who had attrnt tad her attention. It was the hand ruff king, not a king after all; Just a mortAl man thirsting for a dish of Ice cream. "Oh, Billy, I'm so glad he got out. I never could have slept with the picture of that poor man iu chains." "Of course he got out, you silly child. He always does. Janet, you women are a funny lot You never know what you want I came home this afternoon and parted you as you were sttedlng there ggmlna ■* —« : ——— look yon tint** joii don't Itkr my |in**eiil In inn il'i ,toft?" "Imi I It Hii Hill) ? Ml til) life I have l<een planning to do things, and when the Hue entile* to do Ihem B».t attibl Hon i- gone 1 long for something dtf ferelit perl'St* something | ought not In lime Ili ti when I git It I don I want It It « I'i*t n« If IMh kN i"it ■nd toil' bed a passing bubble, and, nt ni) toiii h. It btirst Vet there |« nl wai< that longing In my heart for nn unknown something, and It lurks there still " "Janet, little girl, my present to yon wn« not tntt< hof n success. I wanted to iiui.e yon happ). and I onl) succeed ed In frightening you suppose we tttrti tlie Ini lc* and yoii gl\ e me a present?" "W by, I never heard of a girl giving a present to some one else on her own birthday What under the sun do you inean ?" "1 mean this, dear 1 want n present that only you can give me. It's a big. precious present. You say yon don't know what you loug for, but 1 know what I am reaching for.and that some thing is you, Janet. Will you give yourself to me. a present to keep al ways and to love forever?" "Billy, that waitress heard every word yon said. It's not fair to propose to a girl In nn Ice cream parlor. 1 wouldn't dare say 'No' If 1 wnnled to." "lio you want to say 'No,' Janet?" almost whispered Itllly. "Well, to be perfectly honest. 1 don't think Ido Billy, may In*, after all, It's you I'm longing for. maybe It's you I've I teen reaching out for all the time. I guess It must lie. Billy, dear, liecause I have la-en happier In these past few minutes than I've ever been in all my life before. If you'll take me, Billy, I'm yours." SQUARED ACCOUNTS. Also Won a Reputation and Saved Himself Further Trouble. I'ress agent*, like other Individuals, have their troubles, but there is one in Philadelphia who lias fewer them than the ordinary man. Askedtme day how ho managed so well to get along with everybody, he explained: "Well. I won a reputation. You see, when a press agent is able to give a man heart disease from which he ac tually dies his troubles cease if persons have a proper regard for tbeir lives. I was the press agent for a German singing fest. I naturally used the Ger man papers. "There was one editor who had the idea that he wasn't getting all that was due. Nevertheless he published column after column of type and pic tures. "Afterward the managers of the show received a bill for SB2O 'for ad vertising' They were in a rage. 'What shall we do?" they demanded. 'Don't get excited,' I cautioned 'ein. 'l'll fix that all right' "I went to the office of a friend, and, going to the type cases. I stuck the finest billhead you ever laid eyes on. I printed It in two inks. It read, 'The Two Continents Engraving Company; John Smith, manager.' Next I wrote this account, 'To Peter Jacob Sehmid theiser. Dr., to cuts for German festi val. sßoo.' "When Schmidtheiser received the bill be fainted. He revived and Sent for me. " 'For vot is it you scharge me fer der cuts vot I could puy fer 40 cents abiece, yet?' he demanded. " 'That's all right, old man,' I as sured him. 'You might buy those cuts from anybody else for 40 cents apiece, but not of me.' "He refused to pay the bill, but not long afterward he was stricken with heart disease and died. Ills executors found the bill, with Its balance of S7O In my favor. They asked me what I'd take to settle, and I told them SSO. They paid It cheerfully, and since then I haven't had any trouble."—San Fran Cisco Chronicle. CAISSON WORK. How Foundations of Great Steel Structures Are Built. The foundations for the great steel structures are built by tueans of cais sons in which the men can work under ft great pressure of air. It is a very Interesting sight to watch them, and the best of it is that any one may see them at close range from an adjoining ridewalk. The caisson Is a hollow steel cylinder open at the bottom and Just large enough to permit n man to work. The workman climbs down a ladder in this tube and digs away the earth at the bottom. As the earth is taken away the steel tube is gradually low ered. The earth is taken out by a bucket, which Is lowered and raised by a tall derrick at one side. As the caisson sinks, air is pumped into the compartment containing the man. This Is to force back any water or dirt that might fill the hole from the outside as fast as the workman removes it from within. The pressure of this air is of ten so great that a man can work but an, hour or so at a time. At the top of the caisson is a steel cylinder with an air tight door at either end, which serves as a kind of vestibule to the tube below. When one of the caisson workers starts togo to work lie opens the door or lid at the top and cPtubs in. when the opening is once m 0' tightly clos ed. This door or lid is air tight. Aft er the opening to the outer air has been closed the workman opens the door at the bottom of this steel com partment and lets in compressed air from the caisson below. It takes a few minutes to become accustomed to breathing this atmosphere, for the heavy air makes the head ring. As soon as the workman can do so he climbs down Into the funnel below, closing the lower door of the steel antwoom as he does so. All this must be done In the dark. If the workman wishes to signal the outer world he may do so by striking the steel sides of his narrow prison with his shovel. He usually signals in this way when the bucket Is to be rnlsed or lowered.— Frances Arnold Collins in St Nicholas. The modem "coon" or plantation songs and the popular form of synco pation called ragtime are all easily to be traced to their Bource In the older negro songs, which are probably to be regarded as European la melodic ori gin, translated Into rhythms that have been banded down from the genera tions of slaves who actually came from '"V " --Grove's Dictionary of Music I ■ I A Lucky Hit. Martha I «M» !lt«t«r<l A idii•> «at on the brow of a hill and kirki-d hlw«elf Incidentally he WIIS smoking n cigarette and watching the tllhuet Why, oh. why, had he ever thought thai be needed slisolule reel and ipllet • Ihnt lie didn't want ever to bear op plause ngaln or to look Into people's fares: A si llil week of this coveted toll tilde had made him "a sadder and a wiser ttinti " What wouldn't he give this %ery moment for something to bapiient lie Jumped Up suddenly. Something hud happcnwl. something very nggra \ RtltiK A* he stoo|ied down to pick up the little green apple that bail hit him square on the shoulder a boyish Inugh rang out on the other side of a nearby fence lie threw the apple back over the fence again and reversed Ills opinion on the value of absolute ipllet. The next night the same thing hap penetl, only tills time when the apple roused htm from his reverie the sun had I icon some time set and darkness mid silence stealing over the hill. "I'll catch that klil this time," he said, jumping up. With n run anil a iMtund he made the fence and landed lightly oil the other side face to face with a young fellow almost as tall as himself. "Well, bless my soul!" lie exclaimed. "1 expected to find a kid. I was com ing over to lick you." "Forget It," returned the youth, lead ing the way to a seat under a luxurl "MY BROTHER WAS DETAINED IN" TOWN " ous grape arbor. "I've been watching you every night; thought perhaps you'd like company, so threw you an invita tion." "You struck it, or rather me, just right, young man.l do like company. What's your name?" "Nix." "That's easy to remember." "Short for Nixon. What's yours?" "Vin." "What?" "Vin—short for Vincent." "Oh, I see." And the boy laughed merrily and slapped his knee. "Boarding down at the farm?" "Yes, and beastly tired of it. You live here all the year around?" "Good gracious, no! Just staying a few weeks with my grandparents. Dead slow! You're the only civilized man I've seen siuce I got here." A brief silence followed, in which Vincent struck a match and lighted a cigarette. "Have one. Nix?" "No, thanks." "Too young. 1 s'pose. I contracted the habit long before I was your age. though." "Oh, 'tisn't that," answered Nix carelessly, crossing one well shaped leg over the other. "But the grandpar ents. you know—they think it's a crime." "They won't be out here, will they?" "Oh. no. But I have to kiss 'em good night. I'm their son's only son. you see—the baby of the family." Vincent laughed heartily at the boy's tone of disgust. "Any pretty girls iu the neighbor hood?" he asked after a puff or two. "You seen any?" returned Nix. "Not one—more's the pity." "You like 'em, then?" "Bet your life! Don't you?" "Oh, so-so. I get on better with fel lows. though." "You'll get over that," laughed Vin cent. "But I must tie going. It's near ly pitch dark, and I'll lose my way down to the farm." "Coming up tomorrow night.'" "Sure thing! You won't have to waste any more green apples on me. Good night!" One night a week or so later, in which time Vincent and his young friend had become great chums, the rormer proposed a fishing trip over the mountains, hut Nixon shook his head listlessly. "No hit, Vin," he replied. "Never could stand fishing. Gets your hands so messed up taking the flapping things off the hook." Vincent looked at the boy's fastidious OOTil uttu iu inugu; • wuuiuu i ici uit go out in the evening. So I used to pretend togo to bed early, and then 1 put on those clothes and climbed down over the shed and—oh, you know th» rest!" "But what, made you throw the ap pies at me?" persisted Vincent holding her little hands captive. "Boys always throw apples at peo pie," was her unexpected reply, "and you were the only man—l mean person —ln sight" "It was a lucky hit for m«, dear est" commented her lover, drawing her close and kissing her boyish moath again and again. while h*w«V> nnd i-ottld hardly Mama htm I'M >m off for t-nn," ttrffprl Vln petit "I rllltr IB* ■ N«, think* BmWm, I've irrrt In fn up In tnan tamm'tnH affcrnmtn with gmndmnfber " "I've n gnod mind lo en mvself," •aid Vim-nut ' Thla i-ntintrt life'* *et tin* mi fin mtvri What train are yntt ifHn* mi?" "IIIVI- If up." ati«werod flip boy re •IfwAly "Grandmother change* bet mind every five mitinfp* lint you'll Hud p«mtltfj life all right after In night. »M mmi I'm going to brim my «|«Ip1 back with Ml* "Didn't know yon had one. Nit That's Jolly What's slip like?" "Thp freshest ever." "flood: l« «hp pretty?" "People fpll her *n. She pretend* not lo like It, but I bet *he does." "Introduce me the very flr«t Ihlng?" "A* soon n* yon like." Then the boy nlghpd "What's the matter with you. Nix?" "<»h. ,ln*t thinkluc how II will lie all over with tne after *he come* I pan *ep you fulling In lovp with hpr now What doe* It feel like. Vln. to lie In love?" "Tell yon, my child, wlipn I've lieen there." "Oh. fudge! You've been there a dor.en times." • "Honor, I haven't; thought I wan sometime*, of course, just ns you will Nl*. when all the girl* begin to run after you." "They never will," sighed Nix. "Don't you believe It. Olrls adore eve* like yours. Are your sister's pyes that same wonderful blue, nnd has she curly brown hair like yours?" "«ih. quit it!" Nix replied petulant ly and walked off toward the house In the darkness. The next night, In order not to seeic too eager, Vincent let the sun disnppent nnd waited for the young moon to hang up her crescent before he took his usual way up the hill, lie discard ed the short cut over the fence nnd made a very proper entrance through the garden gate. As he near.il the grape arbor he could see the white folds of a woman's skirt, and his heart fluttered with an tlclpatlon. "Mr. Vincent?" asked the young girl, standing hesitatingly nt the other end of tin- arbor. "My brother was detain ed in town, lie asked tne to"— "Nix, you witch, come here!" laugh ed Vincent, crushing the girl to him in nil her freshness and kissing away hei little gasps of expostulation. "When did you find it out?" she managed to net breath enough to say nt Inst. "1 knew it all the time," answered Vincent softly. "Oh. oh!" exclaimed the girl and hid her hot cheeks iu her hands. "How did you know It?" "I had seen you in those charming boy's togs before, little actress, and recognized you the moment I jumped over the fence, though I could scarcely believe my eyes." "You were at those theatricals?" gasped tlie girl. "Goodness gracious! You aren't John Vinton, the actor, are you, the one we girls rave over?" "The very sa I mean I'm John Vin cent, the actor. But, honor bright, 1 didn't expect to find my own partieu lar star"— The girl gave him a reproachful look. "1 wonder why I didn't recognize you ?" she asked. "Probably," he answered laughingly "because I'm not a lady on the stage. But tell me, dear, what made you play such a prank?" "Well, you see, grandma" (here thev SAVED BY QUICK WIT. Ths Escape of Sir Archibald Douglas at Poitiers. In the battle of Poitiers (135t!) a num ber of Scottish soldiers fought on the side of the French, and several of them were taken prisoners by the Eng lish. Among them was Sir Archibald Douglas, half brother of I.ord Wil liam Douglas. Being dressed in a suit of splendid armor, the victors thought they had captured—as indeed they had—some great nobleman. Several of the English were about to strip (iff Ills armor wlien Sir William Ilanisay of CoHuthie. who was also a prisoner, happening to catch Sir Archibald's eye gave him a meaning look. Pretending to be very angry, he cried out: "You rascal, how is it that you are wearing your master's armor? Come here and pull off tny boots!" Douglas, seeming ly thoroughly cowed, went humbly for ward and drew off a boot, with which Sir William began to beat him. The English onlookers at once interfered on Douglas' behalf, saying that he was a person of great rank and a lord. "What!" shouted Bainsay, shaking with laughter. "He a lord? Why, he is a base knave and, I suppose, lias slain his master. Go, you villain, aud search the field for the !>ody of uiv cousin, your master, and when you have found it let me know, that I may give it decent burial." All this was acted so naturally that the English allowed Bamsay to ransom the pre tended manservant for 40 shillings. The money having been paid. Sir Wil liam gave Douglas another thrashing and then bade him begone. Sir Archi bald lost no time in effecting his es cape. which he owed solely to the in genuity of his friend. The Gallant New Yorker. Two men and a woman waited for a Broadway car at the Twenty-seventh street corner. Presently one of them said, "Let's walk down to Twenty sixth street and take a car there." "What is your idea for that?" asked the other as they started on. "So we won't have to give that wo man a Beat," was the reply. "When a car comes along it Is likely to be pret ty well filled. However, there may be one or two vacant seats. If we get In before the woman does we stand a chance of getting them, but If we get In with her we will have to let her sit down. I always keep that In mind, and for that very reason I avoid boarding a car with a woman whenever I possi bly can."—New York Globe. In certain towns in Germany house holders are compelled by law to sort out their house dust. They have to provide threo receptacles—on* for ash es and sweepings, one for cooking ref use and one for rags and paper. The rubbish is utilised by the town au thorities. The Little } Red ftouec. By fTOoMfi msom. t»n t.v l ««i» an 0 « Brad} wltlMlftg along In liU big automobile. wa« n lonely mnn Itrfnrp hp had mad* Mm money he had ll*<-d tm n fnrm. and In rip* l>a<k and fnrth frmn town there hud liepfl HIP (trnrtlliß« nf *'><>< l tu'lghlmr* and tlir wnli'iiMiP nf the fnrm hand* nml nt homo the t»l 11 112 y nf Hi# fnenl* at the grent tnlilr. * here tnalda • nil mm gathered with the family. Tlmre wa* no sociability In New Votk lor liny* ho had wnndered Info Iht theater* and through fh«* hotels, avoiding Instinctively the men who would have cultlvatpd him mprely for what thpy cOOlil gpt out of him. Imt finding no frlptiil* At Inut, in dpsperatlon. he tod learn pil to drive nn automobile afid *pent hi* day* In making long trip* Into the country, hobnobbing with the farmers who leaned over the fence rail* to tnlk to him and leaving thorn wistfully when Ihpy rpturnod to their toll. Today n* IIP sped down the drive, with It* row* of clldllke building*, ha yearned for some cheery spot whore he might pat nnd drink with a friend. And It was at thla mompnt that his eyi was caught by a sign In the window of the little red house. The little red house was set at the edge of a vacant lot. and It seemed a very shabby neighbor to the stately white apartment house that flanked It on the left. It had a sloping roof, a few vines clung to'the porch, and just above the door was the sign that had attracted Brady's notice, nnd the sign read. "Fresh Cherry Pies." Brady swept up to the curb and clinil od out of his machine. His great form filled the low doorway and shut "I DON'T WONUSK JHAT PF.OVLE CAME," COMMENTED BRAD*. out the sunlight, so that at first he could not see clearly the figure behind the counter. "I came into ask about the cherry pies," he said. "Can I eat one here or must I carry It away with me?" There was a ripple of laughter, and Brady moved to one side and saw that the person in charge was a girl, fresh faced, pretty and trim. "You can eat it here," she said, tak ing a pie out of the case. "People usu ally take them away, but there Is a little table and a chair, and I could make you a cup of coffee." "Could you?" Brady's tone was eager. "I'm awfully hungry, and It Is so pleasant hero." She was cutting the pie. but she looked up as he said that. "Oh, do you like it?" she asked. "1 hope every one will. I aiu just beginning business, and I want to make a fortune." Brady, who had made his fortune In oil, was much Interested la this more picturesque method. "Do you sell many?" he asked. "Twenty yesterday." she confided. "I worked at night to get them ready, but It seemed as if every one wanted cher ry pies. The people in the apartment house came, and I have sold out every thing today except this one pie." It was a beautiful pie. with a deli cate brown crust overlaid with pow dered sugar and all rosy and juicy and delicious within. "I don't wonder that people came." commented Brady as he sat dowu at the little table, whfch she had spread - "u « *3nofW»«« rlnfti She was like a child in tier delight nt ills compliment. "It was the only thing In the world that I knew bow to do." she said, "and when I was left alone and lost the lit tle income that my father had left me 1 decided to bake for a living." She was sitting opposite him. and he liked the unconsciousness with which she gave him her confidence. "I lived !n the conntry when 1 was a little girl, nnd my mother taught me to cook." "I'm from the country, too." Brady said. "I thought so," she said, with a wise nod. "I think that is why 1 could tell you things. One can't nlways he sure of city tnen." "Don't you hate the city?" Brady asked. She shook her head. "No," she said. "It would be beautiful If one had friends or any one to care." "Well, that's what I mean," Brady said. "It's so dead lonesome." lie had finished his pie, and he got up reluctantly. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I guess I'd better go." She went to the door with him. "What a beautiful automobile!" she said when she saw It. "Yes, It's pretty nice," Brady agreed. "But it Isn't much fun driving around by myself." "No, I suppose not," sympathetic ally. There was a moment's silence. Then Brady spoke his thoneht* hnMW Rhp bp«lfntM "1 ilrtti't belter# t "itßhl, «lip Mid tirsdt look fit down at bet )oi| ttmt hp «*krd Her eye* itiPl hi* »lrmlt h!*te one*, "tin " »he Mbt •Implf nnd wpftt In fit nn ber hnl "ttm »op " she fold bin fi« tb< > swept along between fhe green ftekto, "If | «p|| twenty Wm a d«y at 2ft cent* that will l>p |*i a day I onvbl to - |p«r »U*> a month " And she leaned iHn-k, with a uleh of content Itrady, wh»»e Inmme wa* 1100 or more a day, a«kpd with Interest, "What are yon going to do with all lhat money?" "Ka\e It and buy a cottairp In fhe eouniry, with a flrep'aee and a caf and a dog and a cow " ftrady'a soul was stirred by this pic ture of domeotlcltj', and he asked en vlously "Will yon bake cherry plea?" "Yea," she planned. "I am gnlng to have a cherry tree and an apple tree. Yon have never tnated auch apple tarta aa 1 ean make." Brady turned In his seat and looked at her "I am going to taste them,** he Informed her. "I am going to come nnd see you In your cottage." She laughed. "Such air castles!" was her wny of settling the question. But Brady's chin waa set with squareness, and there was determina tion In his tones. "I don't see how 1 can wait for you to build thnt cottage. I shall do It myself, nnd there ahall be a fireplace such n fireplace— with two big chairs on the hearth"—he paused expressively—"and a cat, a comfortable tabby cat, and a nice, confiding dog. and a mild eyed cow, and 1 am going to invite you to my cottage to make my apple tnrts." She smiled at him without self con sciousness. "What dreamers we are!" "Well, maybe you think It's a dream" Brady's tone was dogged—"but some day I shall ask you to come." There was no mistaking what he meant. "Please don't," she bogged. Brady gave her a whimsical glance. "Weil, I suppose It Is too soon to talk about it," ho agreed. "But that cot tage will need something besides a cow and a dog and a cat fur me to bo hap py. It will need a wife and a woman worth loving—and until today I hadn't seen such a woman." "You have kuown me but three hours." "Three hours or three years! What's the difference when I know I have found the one I want?" They were back again on the city drive, and the little red house was in sight. "We don't have to settle anything now," Brady told her quietly. "Of course I couldn't expect you to feel the way 1 do. But what I want to know is this—may I come again?" She hesitated; then, as he lifted her out of tlie car with his strong arms, she smiled up at him. "Yes," she said, "if you like you may come a en In ." PINEAPPLES. A Time When They Sold For $lO Each In San Francisco. In IS3I pineapples wore rare In San Francisco. One day in that year one of the passengers who had crossed the Isthmus of Darien before leaving Pan ama purchased from one of the na tives of lhat place a dozen pineapples for n quarter of a dollar, and when he landed in San Francisco he had six , left. He was carrying these from the ! landing place at the foot of Yallejo I street, where there were boat steps at the end of a twenty foot wharf, which new arrivals approached by Whitehall boats from the steamers that in those days anchored in the stream 300 yards from shore. The man was accosted suddenly by a stranger who asked i him what lie wanted "for that lot of pineapples." "They are not for sale." "But I want them." said the Cali fornlan. "I'll sell you three," said the new ar rival, who on the voyage had heard that San Francisco people were liberal buyers, and he added, "but they'll cost you $5 each." "Take 'em," was the curt reply, and the fruit changed owners, the resident passing over a Spanish coin known then as a gold "ounce." worth sl(s in trade. Before the new purchaser had mov ed across Battery street, whore the transaction had taken place, he was accosted by an acquaintance, who ask ed him to let him have the fruit. A dicker followed for two of them, the acquaintance paying $lO apiece for. them. Later in the day the first pur chaser was boasting of the rapid man ner by which he had cleared $5 and still had a fine pineapple for supper.— San Francisco Call. An Ideal Sitter. A Washington artist while sketching lu North Carolina was one day in search of a suitable background of dark pines for a picture he had plan ned. At last he found the precise situ ation he was seeking, and. best of all. there chanced to be a pretty detail in the figure of an old colored woman in the foreground. The artist asked the old woman to remain seated until he had sketched her. She assented with the greatest good nature, but in a few minutes asked how long the artist would be. "Oh. only about a quarter of an hour." he answered. Three minutes or so later the old darky again inquired—this time with manifest anxiety—how long the opera tion of sketching would take. "Not long." was the reassurlug reply. "But why do you ask so anxiously?" "Oh, nuthln', sah." the old woman hastened to respond, "only I's sittln' on an ant hill, sah."- Harper's Weekly. The Wisdom of Dorothy. Dorothy does not relish lieing left alone togo to sleep. One niglit after she is tucked In bed by her mother, who then leaves her, she calls to her j father and asks if he Isn't coming to bed after he finishes his dinner. "Yes; I'll goto lied as soon as nay dinner digests." "All right; come upstairs now. Your dinner will digest upstairs Just as wet] aa down," argues the young hopeful.— Judge's Library. The strongest things are In danger from the weakest.—Disraeli. mow twr moon tonics Qo«*r VtriUfir* In M ♦ * Ih* Htm* Oh|»M I n«k<d mt mfii in rnfnfmf*' »h# nf fftP full rnnnti In thdt nt anm» nh Jm I hrlil In lb* Mnd at arm* l*m>»h I f«ptnlfir»l lb* rarpfnlly and finfhnt the* #pfp to itmPHWi ill oli(«'i i Jtt«i "urge en«»tgh when •»«•»! at arm'a length I" emer thp wbnle tiinm, Mi DM of ii. ,i Iwglns »« 112 •• •> fjtmrtrr rrf n dollar, fnlr ulred ranta Imtpp; m lht> hnrlfnn large dlntw plafp; di««erl plate mf watch, *l* Inebe* In dlamelpr allvnr dollar. hundred tlme« •• large aa mt wateh. mnn'a hpad, fifty rent p|pe» nine Irrfir* |ri dlariipfpr. (rrnjx* fnilt, carriage W-IIPPI. liniinr plate, orange ten fpet, two ItichP* ntif r* nt plec, arhonlroom < lo«'k, n pea anup plat*, fountain fwn. lemon pip. palm of the hum). three feet In dlameipr enough In klio* ngnln the o*prwhelming man lfoidne*«« of thp Impression* received To lh« surprise of my render* per hnp* It may I* added nt once that th* only mm who «*« rlitht was the on* who compared It to a |w»a It In mnt prolmhip that thp results would not have lieen dtffprpnt If I hurt asked the question on n moonlight night with th* full moon overhi'til Thp siilmtltutlon of the mptimry linnge for the linmpdl ate tx-rcpptlon cnn hardly have lm pntr<-<| HIP porrnlnnw of the Ju<lg ments. If In any court the size of a distant object were to lip Klirn by witnesses. and one ninn declared It as large as a pea nod the second ns large ns n lemon pip nnd the third ten feet in diameter It would hardly l>e fair to form nil objective Judgment till the had found oat what kind of n mind was producing that esti mate. Professor Hugo Munsterlierg In McC'lure's. Clean Chopsticks Sure. "Seeing these quill toothpicks done Up In paper envelopes In the hotels here." said the man from the far eaat, "reminds me of the Japanese eating places. In the bigger hotels or restau rants they hand you the chopsticks done up In a sealed en\elope. This Is with the idea of convincing you that they never have beeu used before, which is not always so. In the cheai er restaurants they have a much bet ter plan for settiug your mind at rest. There you get a piece of wood as Lroad as two chopsticks split to with in an inch of one end. When you take this piece of wood you split it the rest of the way, and there you have the two sticks. You can be sure then that no other persou has used them."—New York Sun. The City of Glorious Sunshine. Of all the living works of man which I have visited I think none is the equal of Moscow in Interest and beauty It is a city of glorious sunshine, of gold en domes and silver crosses aud of multicolored cupolas, of palaces and temples. In It are found all the re finements of the west and all the cu rious fascinations of (be east. Even the incidents of ordinary comftionpiace civilized life are touched by a flavor of romance.—Wide World Magazine. Compensation. "Gut suppose you awake from yonr dream to find that the feet of your idol are but clay?" "That will be all right if 1 litid the* rest of him turned into dust."-lJous ton Tost. Luther said that If a man were not strong at twenty, handsome at thirty, learned at forty and rich at fifty he never would be strong, handsome learned or rich. Curious Westmorland Custom. A strange custom is observed yearly in the small hauilet of Week. In West ■norland, in commemoration of an in cident that happened in the year 18-11 v That year there was a plague of wasps and many persons throughout the country succumbed to the poisonous, sting. The little hamlet holds the rec ord for its number of victims, and in memory of the occurrence a memorial tablet was erected on the moor there. Now each year there Is a procession. Most of the inhabitants turn out, car rying insect powder and oiher devices for killing wasps, aud march to the memorial stone, where a short service, is held by the minister of the parish.., W hen the service is over a general cru sade is made in search of wasps' nests, which are immediately destroyed. Some carry guns, some rag>- saturated in turpentine, while others carry par affin, which is poured into the nest and a match applied. The anniversary Is considered the most important event of the year.—English Country Gentleman. "Are you superstitious?" "Not a bit." answered the man who is rather ashamed of his little weak nesses. "1 have nothing to do with superstition. In fact, I have observed that whenever I begin to take notice of signs I always have bad luck."—Wash ington Star. Sturgeons arc the weakest of all fish in proportion to their size. A huge sturgeon is perfectly helpless if attack ed by a small swordfish." SOMETHING M! A. Reliable TIN SHOP Tor all kind of Tin Roofing, Spoutlne and Canaral Job Work. Stoves. Heatora. Ran««a, Furnace*. «to. PRICES TBB LOWEST! QMLITY TOE BEST! JOHN IIIXSON NO. lit a FRONT ST.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers