afc,
Bellefonte, Pa., Sept. 6, 1889.
THE ART OF PROSPERITY.
Tell me not that advertising
Is at best an empty dream,
For its charms are more surprising .
(And everybody who has tried it wisely
and well will acknowledge that its effects |
are far more astonishing) i
Than its dull, old-fashioned practioners
could ever deer.
And whichever way thou turnest
Thou will find upon the whole,
Those who advertise in earnest
(Yes, we have oniy to glance at our
wealthy eommercial firms and we shall
admit that those who do the thing prop- |
erly) ‘
Soonest reach the wished-for goal.
Wonld<€'t'thou then a lesson borrow ?
Would’st thou know the royal way ?
Advertise then so to-morrow
(Don'tlet a little expense deter you ; you
are merely casting your bread upon the
waters, and you will soon have the satis-
faction of knowing that each to-morrow)’
Finds thee richer than to-day.
Advertise then! No retreating!
Letthe senseless croakers rave ;
While your heart with hope is beating
(You will always find a lot of people in
every community who are blind to their
interests; but while yon are making fame
and fortune)
They will find oblivion's grave.
Printers ink will lead the battie—
Printer’s ink, the balm of life;
Printer’s ink—no din, no rattle—
(No, it does its work quietly ; and in_the
great war of competition, when judicious-
ly and thickly laid on, it always)
Leads the van amidst the strife.
Advertisers oft remind us
We can make success sublime,
Make our pile and leave behind us
{Exactly that’s just where it comes in.
We not only feather our own nest, but
we provide for the prosperity and well-
being of generations yet unborn, and so
leave behind us)
What defies the toueh of time
Seeing which, perchance another
Struggling man with weary brain,
Some non-advertising brother,
(A good example is always to be com-
mended, especially in the matter of ad-
vertising; and many a struggling busi-
ness man seeing the secret of another’s
suceess)
May with wisdom try again.
Advertise then ! Up and doing!
So avert a meaner fate ;
And, the wiser course pursuing,
(You will find that you will soon be in a
position to look the world in the face if
you will only)
Learn to advertise and wait!
—New Zealand Tune.
AN INDEPENDENT PAIR.
They Were Too Spirited to Marry to
Please Others.
“Philip, ”" said old John Briggs to
his son, “you are twenty-eight years
old to-day.”
“So the family record says, father,”
responded the elegant young gentleman
addressed. “I am disposed to place im-
plicit reliance upon it and on you.”
“You have done nothing since you
left college but kill time.”
“It is only retaliation in advance,
sir. Some day or other the old chap
with the sealp-lock and seythe wiil kill
me.”
“You are to flippant. Since your
Aunt Priscilla left you five thousand a
year you have done nothing but spend
the money. Your income ought to be
enough for a single man, but you draw
on me, too.”
“Ill try to draw on you less, sir.”
“It is not that, Philip. You are
quite welcome to a check now and
then, for I know that youuneither game
nor revel, andjI don’t mind your hors-
es, your club, your natural history
craze, nor your luxurious tastes. But
still you spend more money and get
less for it than most young men of
your age—have too much, in fact.”
“I don’t find it too much, sir. In
fact, I was thinking what a graceful
thing it would be if you would double
it—a mere trifle to a gentleman of your
means. | have to nse the most pitiful
economy, I assure vou.”
“Oh, that's it, eh 2 Well, there is a
mode to increase it very much. You
have heard me speak of Philander
Spriggs, of New York ?”
“Money-lender and skinflint ? I have
heard of hun.”
“Nonsense, Philip. He is a quite
worthy as well as very wealthy man;
and if he prefers to invest money ia
short loans, what of that? I lend my
money, or some of it. sometimes.”
“But nct at cent per cent.”
“No matter. I don’t propose that
you shall borrow of him. Ie has an
only child, a daughter, who will inher-
it all his vast property, just as you will
mine.”
“Does she shave notes, father?”
“Phil, be kind enough not to indulge
in chaff. I have seen ber and talked
with her. She is young, handsome,
well educated, and has good taste—a
society gentlewoman with domestic
tastes.”
“Well, father, vou are not =o old, and
since you admire her so much, .[ see no
reason why on
“Stop yonr nonsense and listen.
Spriggs and I had a talk over it when
I was in New York, and we have con-
cluded if you two come together, to
chip in equally and settlea half million
on you on your wedding day. With
what you have vou’il do well enough
for awhile.”
“But,” demurred Philip.
like Spriggs for a father-in-law.”
“Stuff! you don't marry Spriggs.”
“And the name!
Spr-i-ggs!”
“What of that ?
name is changed.
gain much by it.
Six of one and half dozen of
er.”
“T’d like to oblige vou, father. I
With marriage the
I don’t think she'll
the oth-
suppose I must marry some day; but it |
love; and then,
Philadelphia like,insist on a woman of |
will be some one I
good family.”
“Some one you love! How the duce
do you know you'll not love her till vou
see her? Good family! Of course you're
ertitled to that. The peerage of Eng-
land is full of Viscount Brigges. The
Briggses are found in the Almanac von
Gotha among the erlaucht families.
Your grandfather made $300,000 in
hides and tallow, and if he had not in-
“I alon’t |
Think of it!|
Spriggs—Briggs ! |
vested it in real estate that mutiplied
itself more than ten fold before he died,
I should have been in the same busi-
ness to-day, and you in the counting-
room, or warehouse. Family, indeed!
Your: a foolish boy, Philip, and your
aunt's legacy has ruined you.” :
“I wish, sir, there were a half-dozen
wore old aunts to continue my rain in
the same way. It is of no use getting
angry, father. You can’t keep it up.
I'll take to anything yon say—law,
physic, or divinity; sell my horses,drop
my club, read by the cubic foot, but to
marry--excuse me.’
“See here, Phil,” exclaimed the fath-
er, who by this time was at white
heat, “you never knew me to break my
word. I merely ask you to marry for
yoar own good. I point out a wife in
every way suitable to yon. Marry to
please me, and I will not only start you
fairly mn life now, but leave you all I
have when I am gone. Marry to suit
some foolish fancy of yourown and I'll
—yes, I'll found an asylum for idiots.
Now you understand me.” And Briggs
marched off, leaving his son to his
meditations.
“If I stay here,” said Philip to him-
self, “father and I will quarrel. Better
give the dear old gentleman a chance
to cool off. I'll ruralize a little.”
That afternoon Philip packed a port-
mantean, and with a fishing-rod and
mineral hammer started oft to Mont-
gomery county, where an old college
mate of his had married and settled,
one whom he had long promised to
visit. When he arrived there he learn-
ed that Boudinot and his wite had gone
to Long Branch for the season,and their
servants with them, the house being in
charge of a care-taker. Philip heard
of good fishing in a stream four miles
off, and eoncluded to try it. He found
lodgings at a farm-house, near the
place, owned by a man named Seth
Cooper.
His quarters were quite comfortable.
The house was an old stone building
of ante-revolutionary erection, and was
roomy. He was assigned a chamber
upstairs, looking out on a trimly kept
garden, in which old-fashiond flowers
and pot herbs were grown side by side,
and which sent a pleasant fragrance
through the open window. The room
itself was adorned with pictures and
knick-knacks showing feminine taste,
and the bedstead was furnished with a
hair mattress, and not the bag of feath-
ers of the vicinage.
“Decidedly,” said Philip to himself;
“there is another female on the premi-
ses than the substantial Dame Cooper,
and with some refined taste.”
But neither that day nor that week
did he see any woman other than Mrs.
Cooper or the hired girl. However, the
cooking was good, the country air and
his walks round about gave him an
appetite and he was content. He fish-
ed the stream closely, he rambled here
and there, hammer in hand and bag at
side, leaned on fences and talked with
farmers about “craps” and the weath-
er.
In a week’s time the thing grew mo-
notonous. The fish were not always
inclined to bite, good specimens in
quarries and in sifu grew scarcer and
his stock of talk on farming was nearly
exhausted. He began to think of go-
ing to the Branch and hunting up
Boudinot. As he sat upon the veran-
da ove afternoon debating the matter,
a wagon was driven up the lane and
stopped at the door. Lightly out step-
ped a young woman in a neat travel-
ing dress, and the driver followed her
with a large trunk, under which he
staggered, burly as he was. Mrs. Coop-
er came from the kitchen and ex-
claimed; “Why, it's Gwenny, I de-
clare!”
“You dear old Aunt Ruth!” said the
newconier, hugging and kissing the far-
mer’s wife. “I came to have a good
time for a month.”
“And so you shall, my dear,” was
the hearty reply.
Philip took an ocular inventory of
the looks, dress and manner of the
newcomer as he too : off his hat. “A
sweet face and graceful figare and pre-
sentable anywhere,” was his internal
comment. “Here's luck. I shall not
visit the Branch yet.” :
, “You have a boarder, aunty,” said
the girl, when up stairs with Mnps.
Cooper.
“Yes. He'sa Mr. Bee,” said the
other. “It don’t look as if he had any
call to work for his living, judging by
his white hands and his fix-ups, and
he’s plenty of money.”
“Bee? Then he isn't a busy bee.
But he's good looking ; if he be agree-
able he'll do for a walking-stick.”
Mrs. Cooper's mistake as to Philip
was natural enough. When she had
asked his name on his coming he had
said, in his airy way, “Philip B., at
your service,” and she had taken the
sound of the initial for his surname.
After she lad called him Mr. Bee sev-
eral times Philip saw the blunder,
smiled at it, and, as the naval officers
say, “made it 80 ;"’ and when Gwenny
came to the table she was introduced,
“Miss Gwenny, Mr. Bee.” Asshe was
the niece, he concluded her name to be
Cooper, but as the farmer addressed
her as Miss Gwenny, and the farmer's
wite as Gwenny, Philip chose the more
respectful of the two.
As Philip was a gallant young gen-
[tleman, and as the young lady was
' charming in manner, he naturally paid
her much attention.
rman and a young woman are thrown
together under such circumstances. 1t
is not unusual for a flirtation to follow.
[t is generally a foregone conclusion.
| Philip soon learned that “Gwenny"
| was diminutive of Ewenllian, and not
of the more stilted Gwendoline, which
interested him. Philip’s mother had
been a Powel, with Welsh biood in her
veins, and bore the same name. This
latter Gwenllian was amystery to him.
For the niece of a rather coarse farmer
—for Cooper, though a worthy mau,
was the reverse of refined—she display-
edunquestionably gentle manners. Then
she showed a fair knowledge of any
subject touched upon in conversation.
What was she—a teacher? She had
not the look nor the way of a school
ma'am. A governess? Possibly. If
When a young®
s0, in a good family. But her belong- |
ings were not of the second-hand kind. |
Philip had a keen eye for female ap-
parel. Her lace was of the rarest; her
gloves were perfect and of the newest.
her dresses were pretty and well-fitting
though quite in tone ; and though she
displayed little in the way of jewelry,
a lace pin was unmistakably a diamond.
She had been well cultured and every
word and action showed a purity that
fittted her name.
On the other hand, Philip was as
much a mystery to the young girl.
He was a gentleman beyond doubt.
But what was he doing there, a man of
culture, refinement and esthetic tastes,
ing of Boudinot, which would have ex.
plained it. With a little affectation of
cynicism which did not ill become him,
the man was as clear as water, frank as
air. But why did he loiter there with
no apparent purpose ? The girl did
not first deem that she was the attrac-
tion, but it came to her after five weeks,
and she grew shy, and her shyness for
the last week of her stay infected Phil-
1p, who became shy too, and lost all
ease. At length she announced to
Murs. Cooper that she had to return
home, and that her tather, who was in
Philadelphia visiting friends there,
would come for her on the following
day, and his friend with him. Philip
heard this with a depression that told
him he had wet his fate and that it lay
in the power of this girl to make him
happy or miserable for life.
All the night that followed, Philip
lay and tossed restlessly. Ie could not
sleep. He felt that his father would
be as @ood as his word, but he would
win a wife then or never. Near morn.
ing he arose, dressed, and set at the
window until the sun showed itself.
Then he slipped out of the house and
strolled toward a glen a few yards off,
intending to reman out until he heard
the breakfast bell. It had been a fa-
vorite haunt of the two, and yet for the
last few days both had avoided it. He
made his way to a mossy rock which
formed a sort of rustic seat, and there
be saw—Gwenndy.
“Miss Gwenllian !”” he exclaimed.
She rose with a rather embarrassed
air. “I rested badly last night, Mr.
See, and 'T came out at day break. I
have been here ever since. The morn-
ing air seems to refresh me.”
“I have the same experience,” he
-said ; “I have rested badly, or rather
have not rested at all. I—"
She looked up inquiringly, and at
something she read in his eyes, drop-
ped her own, while a flush overspread
his face and neck.
“Giwenny I” he said, desperately, and
took her hand. The fingers trembled
in his, but were not withdrawn.
“Gwenny, darling,” he said, “are we to
part to-day ? Do you know that I love
you dearly ?”
“Do you—Philip?”’ she murmured ;
but she did not look up.
“Giwenny,” he said, “I have been
sailing under false colors, but innocent-
ly enough. I have a way among my
gentlemen friends of using my initials,
and so I am called among them P. B.,
or Mr. B. When your aunt asked me
my name [I said Mr. B. and I did not
care to undeceive her; but I desire no
concealment from you, unless you do
not care for me. Then we will part as.
we met; but I shall be a changed man.”
He waited for a reply. There was a
slight tightening of her fingers on his
as she half whispered :
“You must know that I care for you,
Philip.” ,
“Now, darling,” said the exnltant
Philip; “you must let me speak to your
father to-day.”
“I fear yon may find him rather ob-
stinate,” she said. “He sets an undue
store by his daughter.”
“I can satisfy him of my position in
society and that I am able to maintain
vou. [ have means of my own, and
have—well I may say I had, great ex-
pectations; but my father, who is sev-
eral times a millionaire, has 1aken into
his head to fit me with a wife. I pre
fer to choose for myself. If you wil!
be content to share what I have, Phil-
ip Briggs does not care for more.”
“Briggs—Philip I" cried Gwenny, re-
leasing himself from his grasp and
looking at him wonderingly. “Is your
father's name John ?”
4Yes."
“And he lived in Philadelphia 2”
“Yes!
Gwenny burst into a peal of silvery
langhter.
“Do not feel vexed, Philip,” she said
at length. “I am only laughing at
the similarity of our positions. My
father chose a husband for me in the |
same way, and it was to escape discus-
sion of the matter that I took these few
weeks’ rustication. Mrs, Cooper is mv
old nurse, and I have cailed her ‘aunty’
from the time I conld toddle around. |
She was married from our house. Her |
husband had very little money, and |
father hought them this farm and
stocked it. Bat, oh! think, Philip, dear, |
how your fatherand mine will chuckle!
You are Philip Briges, and I—I am
Gwenllian Spriges!”— Boston Advertis-
er.
——
Tue WoRLD SUFFERED BY COMPAR-
SoN.—Committeeman (ordering badges
for the graduating class of Columbia
College)—¢The design is to include au
graduate in uniform and a representa-
tion of the world in relief.” Jeweler—
“How large would you like ‘he figures?”
Committeeman—¢ Oh, make the giad-
uate about two inches high. And the
world about half an inch in diameter.
—Jeweler’s Weekly.
A ot ARE A
—A very peculiar ailment Fas broken
out among the inhabitants of Peru, Ind.
It is 'he result of the string of an insect
which resembles the ordinary house fly,
though a trifle larger. The patients do
not feel the bite, but after 24 hours the
{ parts which have been bitten become
i swollen and feverish, and there is the
| most intense pain, indicating blood pois-
{ oning. Some of the patients have lain
for days in the most critical condition
and fatal results are anticipated in some
cases
in that farm house ? He had said noth- |
Review of Fashions.
' Nowadays Style is Said to Tuke Prece-
dence of the Material,
In the days when fashions were re-
stricted by more conservative ideas,
the material of the costume was the
the stone that sparkled on the head of | principal and all important point to be
| decided ; the stylein which it was to
| be made was already fixed, and the
| adventurous fair one who ventured to
suggest a change from the prevail-
ing mode was looked upon aa little
short of revolutionary in her ideas.
To-day the style takes precedence of
the mat rial in importance; and she
who is the fortunate possessor of “fairy
fingers” to successfully carry out in
simple materials the ideas of an artis-
tic brain, is usually voted the “best
dressed” woman in any assemblage,
irich fabrics and elaborate garnitures
| counting nothing in comparison to ar-
tistic effect.
It one possesses artistic taste in dress
but not the nieans to indulge in expen-
sive materials, the soft challies and
veilings and other inexpensive goods of
the same class offer ample opportunity
for the exercise of individual fancy,
and a pleasing combination of tints,
the graceful arrangement of the drap-
ery, the fortunate disposal of the gar-
niture, or the use of some simple de-
vice to heighten a natural charm or
render a shortcoming less noticeable,
will often impart the clic, the individ:
uality, to what might otherwise rank
as an ordinary dress.
There is always safety in selecting
plain materials, from an artistic as
well as an economical point of view.
Plain goods are becoming alike to slen-
der and fully developed figures, and un-
less the color is very pronounced
or distinctly a fancy ot a particular
season, it will not be noticeably old-
fashioned the next. A favorite com-
bination of colors this season (and one
that is very generally becoming) is
green and gray in all tints. Usually
the same grade of shades is used, pre-
ferably soft, undecided tints; but a
light shade of gray with a dark shade
of green, or vise verse, is not unusual.
Cream-white and the more decided
cream-color are also associated with
light grays and greens, and the effect
is often enhanced by the judicious ap-
plication of gold or silver soutache on
the white, which, as a rule, is chosen
for the accessories only —a short
V-shaped piece back and front on the
full waist, like a yoke, V-shaped cufls
on the full sleeves, and for facing the
foundation skirt, which is disclosed at
one side by the looping of the drapery.
The drapery looped at one side of
tha front in the simple fashion made
familiar to us by the pictures of Mar-
guerite is a general favorite for sum-
mer costurnes, and young ladies fre-
quently copy the entire design (the
plain waist with its full guimpe, high
frillabout the throat, and puffed sleeves)
which is easily and effectively repro-
duced in the pliant silk, wool, and silk-
and-wool fabrics that possess the addi-
tional merit of being inexpensive,
Changeable tafteta silks, either plain
or with fine stripes, are made into
quaint-looking gowns witn a rather
scant skirt made of straight breadths,
and a ronnd full waist with shirred or
smocked yoke and full-sleeves; and a
long sash of solid-colored silk, match-
ing the most prominent shade in the
dress grods, with fringed ends, is tied
around the waistand has a long-looped
bow at the back. The foot of the
skirt is bordered with a full pinked
ruching of the same color as the sash,
or the two or three colors in thechange-
able silk are combined in it, the light
er color in the center.
Quaint fichus made of a square of
plain imbroidered lawn, mull, or net
edged with lace and foided diagonally,
furnish graceful drapery for untrim-
ed waists, and, as they are very gener
ally becoming, are very popular.
The back coraers are rounded, and
the front corners are usually tucked
inside the wide belt or sash. Marie
Antoinette fichus are also revived.—
Demorest's Monthly.
Bank Of England.
Something About the Rich Old Lady of
Threadneedle Street.
A recent trial in London, Eng. in
which the conversion of a New York
draft into Bank of England notes formed
a perfecting link in the chain of evidence
by which the prisoners were convicted,
suggested to the New York Graphic a
brief description of the bank method
with regard to its issue.
The paper
printed is made by a private factory in
Yorkshire under strictly guarded condi-
tions as to the water-mark, which is so
conspicuous a feature. It is of silver
white and so strong thut it will sustain
fifty pounds in weight when suspended
at the corners. The printing is perform-
"ed at the bunk in Threadneedle street,in-
cluding the signature of the nominal
maker of the draft. The dratts or notes
used formerly to be signed by assistant
cashiers, but the issue eventually became
too large to admit of a sien manual be-
ing issued, so printing was substituted.
Sach individual note as soon as issued
! has its number, letter, date and denomi-
nation placed to its debit in a ledger uc-
count, the per contra being filled on the
return of the note, perhaps the next day.
Some years ago some £1 notes issued in
the middle of last century were handed
in for payment. A reference to the
ledger of that date showed the credit side
of the note with corresponding num-
bers to be open, so the dratts were auiy
honored.
The lowest denomination now issued
is of £5, the highest of £10,000. A not-
able feature of the Bank of England
note, when compared with that ot other
issues and counties, is its crispness and
clearness. The simplicity of design and
clearness of lettering and figuring ave
very conspicuous. ‘The reason why we
never find tattered and foul Bank of
England bills or bank notes, us the Eng-
Lishman perfers to call them, avises from
the customofthe bank never to issue one of
its notes a second tune, This rule is so
scruplously observed that should a thou-
sand notes of £5 each issued in the
morning in exchange for gold at the is-
on which the notes are!
sue department come into the hands of
‘the banking department as a customer's
deposit in the afternocn, possibly with-
out having been untied they would be
immediately canceled. This cancella-
tion is performed by tearing off the sig-
nature corner of each note. the number
and date being first recorded by the re-,
cieving clerks on his counter cash book.
The mutilated bills at the banking de-
partment rea collected at short intervals
by aclerk from the accountant’s depart-
ment, where they are assorted into their
respective denominations and placed to
their individual ledgercredits. They are
then stored, and after ten years’ interval
consigned to the flames.
The detection of the forged bank note
is almost inevitable under this system.
{ Simply to imitate the paper is difficult,
the best imitation being readily percep-
| tible to a practical touch. To counter-
| feit the printing is almost impossible,
| owing to the absence of complexity to
| confuse the eye, and a third reliance for
the paying teller as he rapidly scans the
| notes before shoveling out the gold in
| exchange is a peculiarity known only to
! the initiated.
Should a forgery slip through these
| guards the number and dates and de-
| nomination must all correspond with the
{ ledger entry, and should all these agree
| the chances are that the legitimate note
| will have already filled up the bank.
| Itis the rule in all London banking
| houses and in most private establish-
ments fo record the date and number of
every bank note passing through their
hands, together with the name of the
The Bank of
person presenting it.
| England, morever, requires the endorse-
{ ment of the holder of every note or par-
| cel of note presented for exchange for
| gold or for notes of other denominations.
This system greatly facilitates the detec-
tion of fraud, and in the case which gave
occasion to these remarks was the direct
means of establishing the prosecuting
attorney’s theory.
The actual cost of each bank of Eng-
land note issued is about five cents. An
ordinary day’s issue of notes with a cor-
responding number of canceled, is from
20,000 to 30,000, but when a forgery is
known to be afloat all of that particular
denomination are poured in by their
holders for exchange orredemption, and
as many as 80,000 notes under such cir-
cumstances have been presented and can-
celed in one day.
An offset to this expense the yearly
gain to the bank in notes destroyed by
fire and water amounts to a large sum,
which, however, is taken into account by
the Government when adjusting its Na-
tional debt and exchequer arrangements
with the bank.
The «Old Lady of Threadneedle
Street,” as the Londoner lovingly calls
the institution, which next to his Qneen
he most deeply reveres, is very liberal
when dealing with cases of notes destroy-
ed or mutilated. The secretary ’s office at-
tends to those matters, and there may
be seen daily remnants of notes which
have undergone every conceivable ordeal
short of absolute destruction.
Little pulpy masses that have passed
through the digestive apparatuses of
dogs and children, half burned pieces
that have unwittingly done duty at ci-
gar lighters, remnants of every kind of
which enough is left to indicate in the
faintest degree the original worth—all
receive full consideration and the owners
lose nothing. Even the total destruc-
| tion whenrgood security against possible
| mistake is given. :
| Ir ————————
1
|
|
Some Millionaires’ Incomes,
i A Cleveland, Ohio, correspondent
writes that Mr. II. M. Flagler said a
short tine ago that Mr. John D. Rocke-
feller’s income had reached $9,000,000
a year. This startling statement from
a man so well intormed as Mr. Flagler
regarding the affairs of the Standard
Oil Company was the basis of a care-
ful inquiry among brokers and well
informed financiers as to the wealth of
Clevelanders generally, and it can be
| safely said that there are uo less than
i sixty-three millionaires within the
limits of the Forest City, to say no-
| thing of immense estates owned jointly
! by heirs,
Mr. Flagler’s statement regarding
| Mr. Rockefeller's income would make
| the head of the great Standard Oil
t trust worth £150,000.000 on a 6 per
i cent basis, He said his own income
was $3,000,000 a year, and estimated
| Col. Oliver Payne's wealth at about
| $22,000,000.
| But the Standard Oil people are
| not the only wealty residents of Cleve
| land whose holaings are represented in
| seven and eight ficures, Selah Chan -
berlain is worth $16,000,000, most of
[which is invested in the hest of railway
I securities, and the S. V. Harkness es-
tate, divided but a short time ago be-
{tween Mrs. Anna M. Harkness and
{ three sos, is «aid to have footed up
C$28,000.000. The combined wealth of
Jepaha II. Wade and his grandson
Homer Wade, who has already inherit-
ed an immense fortnne, is certainly
net less than 87,000,000.
om ————— 7 ———
He Knew the Owner.
The late Judge Walker, of Aurora,
Ind. was, itis said, the personification
of pomposity. He was proud of himself,
of his family, and of all his possessions.
Ilustrative of this trait of character a
story is told of the old Judge. Shortly
before his death he built a splendid man-
sion on the high hill back of Aurora.
Judze Walker was inordinately proud
of this house, which could be seen for
miles up and down the river. One day
he was returning home by steamer from
Cincinnati. Judge Walker no sooner
caught sight of his residence than his
whole attention was fixed upon it. He
wondered if every one else appreciated
the beauty and striking location of the
house. Finally he walked up to a strang-
er and said. “[ beg pardon, but---ah—
can you tell me who is theowner of that
—ab—palatial and beautiful mansion on
the hill!”
Yes, sir?
promptiy.
“That old barn belongs to Judge
Walker, the biggest fool in Indiana, al-
thoueh he thinks himself a sage.” The
Judge's curiosity was entirely satisfied
replied the stranger,
Tue REASON. —“ What is the matter
with Hellowly, Brownly 2 He used to
be one of the quietest men going; now I
hear he is in constant hot water with
his neighbors.” “Well, he bought a dog
u few weeks ago.”’— Boston Courier.
All Sorts of Paragraphs.
—Tiere are 170,000 Mormons - in
Utah Territory.
—Maine has a baseball club called the
Pennesewassee.
—A Maine man has raised a blue pie,
which he will exhibit at the State Fair.
—A watermelon was raised by D. M.
Reaves, of Chico, Cal., that measured
53} inches by 33 inches.
—Nearly every vessel clearing from
San Diego, Cal., nowadays, carries from:
10 to 11 tons of honey.
—The town of Milford. Conn., is cele-
brating the two hundred and fiftieth an-
niversary of its settlement.
—A 16-pound cannon ball came up
in” Walter Dixon's oyster dredge in
Newark Bay the other day.
—James Lee, of Patton Valley, Ore.,
recently shot a cougar that weighed 200
pounds and was seven feet in length.
—The oldest public house in Eng-
! land is “The Seven Stars,” at Manches-
ter. It dates back to the time of Ed-
ward ITI.
—At Jamestown, Dak., recently, a
French woman 106 years old took out
citizenship papers and ‘proved up’ a
claim to a homestead.
—W. R. Shadman, of Glynn county,
Ga., has three acres of olives. His'is
believed to be the only olive grove east
of the Rocky Mountains.
—In Galway itis considered so unlucky
to catch sight of a fox that fishermen
will not put to sea if they notice one
while going to their boats.
—A mid air combat between a hawk
and asnake afforded amusement for
over 20 minutes to a party of picknick-
ers near Mossville, Blair county, Pa.
—A Mohammedan mosque has been
builtin Woking, England, and a Bud-
dhist temple has been opened in Paris.
There are about 300 Buddhists in Paris.
—A Californian named John Fessler
has a quartz mine that has paid him
$30,000 in two years. He does his own
work, and his only mill is a hand mor-
tar.
--Sir Edward Watkin is the leading
spirit in a movement looking to the erec-
tion of an iron tower 2,000 feet high in
London. They are determined to beat
that Eiffel at tower building.
— Ernest R. Ackerman, of New York,
has an umbrella that he bought in Liv-
erpool in 1880. It has been all over
Europe and America with him, and Mr.
Ackerman estimates that he has carried
it 100 000 miles.
—A white kitten playing in the front
window of a store on Broadway got
caught in the neck by a fish hook and
hung there for some time. When re-
leased she at once went to play again
among the hooks and lines.
—Paul Smith, a watchman in a Belle-
ville, N. J., manufactory, had a terri-
ble fight with a six-foot blacksnake in
one of the buildings the other night.
After half an hour of hard work he suc-
ceeded in vanquishing the reptile.
—Amorg the marriage licenses re-
cently issued in Philadelphia was one
permitting Wtaidystawa Butezrinska
to wed Piotrowicy Ntadystawa, and an-
other that will be the means of cement-
ing Stanislau and Maryuna Skinatowiak.
—A young alligator, 3 feet long, was
discovered lately basking in the sun on
the banks of the Little Blue river, near
where it empties ‘n the Missouri. It
was shot by Gabe Carlton, a farmer.
How it came there is a mystery, as no
alligators have ever before been known
to come north of Memphis, Tenn.
— Washington, D. C., has a policeman
of a original turn of mind. Being de-
tailed to watch a dwelling from which
the milk can had been stolen early every
morning for more than a week, he hid
in the limb of a tree in front of the
house, and when the thief appeared lo v-
ered himself quickly and took the rascal
into custody.
\
— Adrian, Mich., can just now exhibit
a curiosity to the world in the shape of
a sunflower-bearing tree. The freak is
located in a large oak. The sunflower
is growing from the top of the tree, and
has a stalk about five feet high. Itisin
full bloom. How the seed got thereis a
question, as it is too large a tree for any
boy to climb.
—A story somes from White House,
N. J., to the effect that one Weil, living
there, while feeding a sick cow last
November, lo t a valuable gold ring.
He thought the animal swallowed it.
Last week the cow wasslaughtered and
the ring found, none the wor e for hav-
ing been in the quadruped’s possession
tor over eight months.
—A remarkable instance of telephonic
communication occurrad in Charleston,
S. C., last week. A young man employ-
j ed in the W stern Union telegraph of-
fice in that city conversed without any
ldifficulty with his brother, who was in
| Omaha, 1,500 miles away. The broth-
| ers talked an heur with hardly any
| pause between questions.
—J. C. Ruff, Gloucester, Mass., has
! four tomatoes vines trellised on his pre-
| mises, which have reached a height of 9
feet 4 inches and are still growing.
. There ave over 100 green tomatoes grow-
ing on the vines. He has also a pea
vine which has grown to 10} feet in
height, from which 77 pods, each pod
containing seven peas, have been picked.
—One of the most surprising features
of the modern business world is the large
use of cotton seed, formely considered
worthless. Over 800,000 tons of these
seeds are now pressed fur their oil, from
36 to 40 pounds being obtained from
each ton. The consumption of cotton
seed oil is increasing both in this coun-
ty and in Europe, and new uses for the
oil are constantly being discovered.
|
—Seventy-three years ago Mrs. Sally
i B. Weeks Bucknam, then a blushing
! bride, went to housekeeping in a snug
farmhonse on the west slope of Mount
Prospect, N. H. The other day in this
same house, where she has lived ever
since she celebrated her 100th dirthday,
and was strong enough to receive not
only her children, grandchildren and
great-grandehildven, but also au large
number other friends and acquaintances.
#