Demorraic: Alla
Bellefonte, Pa, December 12,1890.
“THEY SAY.”
Who are the vague, mysterious “They”
Who always have so much to “say”
Of you and me and every one,
And every thing that’s said or done ?
Wherever human souls abound
There “They” are certain to be found,
And be as careful as we may
There's no escaping their “They say.”
“Tney say”—they really do not know—"
“Tis ramored Mr. So-and-so
Is soon to wed Miss What's-her-name”
No one knows whence the rumor came,
“They”slyly whisper this and that,
Of your and my affairs “They” chat
And keep us busy day by day
Refuting silly things “They say.”
“They say” that nearly every one
Has something wreught or left undone
That's “really shocking, yet you know
You must not say who told you so!”
“They” intimate such awful things
And give to lies such airy wings
That truth itself is led astray
That hearkens to the words “They say.”
“They say”’—Who says it? Let them dare
Their personality declare,
For let them long and slyly seek
To hide the words they dare to speak.
Why should they parentage refuse
To words which they have put in use!
With whispered rumors let's away
Nor lend an ear to what “They say.”
———
“FIFTY CENTS A VICKET,”
She was spreading towels and table-
cloths on the crisp, short grass to
bleach, when he saw her first—a slim,
Diana like young creature, with large,
limpid eyes, a brown skin not entirely
innocent of freckles,and a mass of jetty
shining hair, which had broken loose
from its coarse horn comb and fell in
ink-black ripples down her back. There
was & little brook twining its transpar-
ent sparkles around the gnarled roots
of an ancient tree, and a back-ground
of biack-green lanrel, which with the
sun-bathed meadow in front, made a
sort of rustic picture that struck Paul
Gressner’s artistic fancy as he crossed
the wooden bridge.
“I should like to sketch her,” he
thought to himself. “I wonder, now,
what she would say to it!”
Bat before he could get his pencil
and mill-boards out the young Diana
had poised her empty basket lightly on
her head and was gone.
“I’m sorry for that,” soberly ponder-
«d Gessner. “She had abril nt Char-
lotte Corday sort of a face that would
have stood the test of perpetuation on
paper!”
And then Mr. Gessner went into the
inn and set himself at work to elabor-
ate the notes of his lecture on “The
Literature of Queen Anne's Time,”
which was to be delivered the next
evening at the village hall.
There were plenty of people at the
inn.
sort of. place, which attacted people in
the summer season. Every farm house
and cottage in the vicinity was crowd-
ed, and a “lecture” was something to
stir the stagnation of their every-day
life. Moreover, Paul Gessner had a
reputation for scholarly polish and
graceful wit which had reached even
to Brookbridgze. In our New England
villages the cooks are often @sthetie,
and tne hired meu critics, and every-
body was talking of the lecture.
“Cant LI go?” said Natiy
“Qh, 1 wish I could go!”
The towels and table-cloths were all
Purple.
bleached whiter than #now, between |
the daisied grass and the July sunshine,
and Natty was sprinkling and folding
them now, with quick, deft fingers, in
an obcare corner of the kitchen.
“You go, indeed I” said Miss Carry
Podham, who condescended to wait at
table during the crowded season.
“You've too much to do in the kitchen,
and besides the tickets are fitty cents
each!”
Naty Parple sighed dolorously.
“Fifty cents!” she repeated.” “Qh
then of course it's out of the question!”
For Naty's slender wages were all
of them expended in the support of a
good-for-nothing old grandsire who,
when he was not drinking a great deal
too much wiisky, was suffering un-
heard-of agonies with the rheumatism.
She never wore anything but calico,
and drudged away in the inn kitchen
like a modern Cinderella, without any
of the eclut which, in ancient story, ap-
pertained to that young person.
But later in the evening the head
stable-man looked into the kitchen,
where Cinderella was darning a well-
worn table-napkin and Mrs. Podham
was preparing brook trout for a break-
fast for the morrow’s early travelers.
“Where's Jim ? said the head sta-
bleman.'
“Gone out,” said Mrs. Podham.
curtly. :
“I want some one to row one of the
boarders out on the lake,” said the
stableman.
“He's a picter-painter, T guess. He
wants moonlight effects, he says’ (with
a chuckle.)
“I'd a deal ruther hev feather-pillow
effects my self. Then where is Dick?"
“Dick never's on hand when he's
wanted,” Mrs. Podham replied. ¢I
haven't seen him since supper.”
“Then he'll lose a 50 cent job,” said
the stableman. “Well, I s’pose I can
hunt up some one somewhere.”
“Fifty cents!” cried Natty Purple,
springing to her feet. “Ill go, Thomas!
I'm handy with the oars, and I'm just
perishing for a breath of cool air from
the water.”
“Them napkins isn’t wended,”
croaked Mrs. Podham, discouragingly.
“I'll finish 'em when I come back,"
said Natty. coaxingly. “Do let me go,
just once I”! t ;
So that when Mr. Gessner came out
to the edge of the lake with his pictur-
esque Spanish cloak thrown across the
shoulder, and his sketching apparatus
under his arm, Nattie Purple sat in the
boat ready to row him whether he
would go.
“Hello!” said Paul.
a girl I”
“Yes, I'm a girl,” apologetically
confessed Natty. “But I'm a good
hand to row, and I know all about the
lake. I can take you straight to Echo
Cove, where the water-lilies grow
“Why you're
Brookbridge was a wild, sylvan
thickest, and pass the Old Ludian rock,
and——" :
“Agreed,” said Paul, good-humor-
edly. “Bit was there no man about
the place to undertake this disagreea-
ble gob 2” : :
“04, it isn’t disagreeable,” said Nat-
ty, earnestly. “I like to row! And,
besiaes, I do so much want to earn 50
cents!”
“Do yon?’ said Panl, as the little
boat, propelled by Nuuy's skillfal
strokes, vanished into the deep shad-
ow of the overhanging birches that
fringed the lovely sides. “May I ven-
ture to ask why?”
“Oh, yes,” said Natty. “It's no
secret. I want to zo to the lecture to-
morrow night.”
Paul Gessner smiled to himself in
the moonlight, as he sat there like a
Spanish gondolier.
“Do you suppose it will be very in-
f teresting?” said he.
“Interesting!” echoed Natty, “Of
course it wili be. Haven't yon heard ?
Mr. Gessner is to deliver a lecture on
the literature of Queen Anne's time.”
“And who is Mr. Gessner?” de-
manded the young man,
“If you don’t read the magazines, of
course you can’t be expected to know,”
said Natty Purple, with some natural
impatience. “But [ have read every-
thing he writes, He is stopping at onr
place now, they tell me.”
“Is he?” said Paul. “You are the
landlady’s daughter, I presume 2”
“No, I am not,” acknowledged hon-
est Nutty, “IL help in the kitchen. “I
am Natalie Purple.”
“Well then, to be honest with you,
Miss Purple,” said Paul, feeling a sting
of conscious. “I am Paul Gessner!”
Nattie gave svch a start that the
boat careened dangerously to ove side.
“You!” she cried.
“Yes, I! Now. if you will take me
safe to the E:ho Cove I will give you
a complimentary ticket. So there!”
“No,” said Nattie, with true woman-
ly pride. *I accept no favors, even
though I am nothing but a working
girl. If I am to have a ticket at all I
prefer to earn it.” .
Paul was silent. In trath, and in
fact, he feit a little ashamed in the pre-
sence of this flute-voiced, independent
young beauty. :
“You must have read a great deal,”
said he at last.
“Oi! I have,” said Natty, “We
are not =o busy in winter, you see, and
besides,all the girls lend me their news-
papers and magazines. Bat I never
expected Lo see a gentleman who wrote
books.’
“I hope he comes up to your expec-
tation,” said Paul.
i “I must have time to make up my
{ mind about that,” said Natty, with all
good faith.
And once again our hero found him-
self at a loss for something to say.
But when he came ont into the moon-
bathed glories of the Echo Cove, where
all the world was steeped in silver soft-
ness and the matted masses of water-
lilies were swinging to and fro on the
tide like emerald carpets, his tongue
was loosened once again, and before
tiiey came back, he and Nattie Purple
were on terms of the pleasantest ac-
quaincanceship.
Bat he had not sketched half so
much as he had expected.
“The light was so uncertain,” he
said, “he could reproduce it better by
the next day’s memory.”
Nettie went to the lecture with her
50-cent piece and listened with a grave
and critical intentness, which spurred
Paul Gessner on to his highest elocu-
tionary eflects.
“It was very good,” she said the next
day, “very good, indeed. It has given
me something to think about. And,
oh, dear! I have so much time for
thinking 1”
“Natty,” said Mr. Gessner (every-
body called the girl ‘Natty” here). “I
have been wondering why you stay
here at all.”
“Where else should I stay?’ she
questioned him, with simple directness.
“Why d> you not go to Boston and
teach schooi ?” he questioned.
“Oh!” cried Natty, clasping her
hands eagerly, “do you think there
would be any possibility of my obtain-
ing a situation there?”
“We must see what can be done,”
said Paul, reflectively.
So Grandfather Purple was left in
charge of a thrifty neighbor and staid
by himsel! that winter, while Natty
went to Boston to wry her luck in one of
the grammar schools. In the spring
she came back, apparently transform-
ed into a new creature.
“I didn’t want you,” growled the old
man. “The Widow Malley takes good
enough care of me. To tell you the
truth, we was married last week, and
Mrs. Purple she don’t want no step
granddarters around.”
“Oh, grandfather, I am so glad!”
cried Natalie, tarning pink and white
in one breath. “Because I am not
coming back to stay, Mr. Gessner —-"'
“Oh, I understand,” said Grandfath-
er Purple,chuckling hoarsely. “You're
going to be married, too,”
“Yes,” said Natty, “I'm going to be
married.”
Thus ended the little Brookbridge
idyl. Natalie was happy. So was
Paul Gessner. As for Grandfather
Purple and his elderly bride, let us
hope that they were not very unhappy.
For the roses and nightingales of life
| can not be enjoyed by every one and
| the springtide of the world comes but
once.—Amy Randolph in N. Y. Ledger.
————
Pattison and the Guards.
The Militia Will Probably Attend the
Governor-elect’s Inauguration.
HARRISBURG, Pa, Nov. 80.—Ad-
| jutant General Hastings recently had a
| conference with Governor-elect Pattison,
at Governor Beaver’s instance, on the
question of the attendance of the Na-
| tional Guard at the inauguration on
| January 20, and it is stated that Mr.
| Pattison expressed himself as willing
| that the Guard should be present on that
occasion. General Hastings is reported
to have said that the matter now re-
solves itself into a question of trans-
portation,
TS ST 0 XT EL,
A Reliablo Recipe. i
i
How to Make a Good Husband Out of |
Very Ordinary Material. :
¥
A good husband, it has been wisely !
remarked, like the hare, must be esught !
- before he is cooked. He can not always
be told at a glance, and sometimes he
must be su: mered and wintered before
his real character is discovered, but it is
sufe Lo say that when caught he should
he found to be composed of the follow-
ing ingredtents in saitable proportions :
| Mother wit, good nature, gentleness,
strength, manliness, purity, courage,
But even when the full measure of sone
of these necessary qualities is lacking a
very good hushand can be secured by a
persistent use of the following recipe :
Wifaly tact......... =
| Wifely forbearance .
Wifely good nature..
i God housekeeping.
Good cooking .... :
Wifely love....... se wesseena... 50 parts
There are some brutes upon whom
even such a precious mixture will be
wasted, but they very few, and a persis-
tent application of it, morning, noon
and night for two years, is warranted in
nine cases out of ten to make a man and
a gentleman out of very. commonplace
material:
Some high authorities on husbandry
have insisted that all that was necessary
to make a good husband was one hun-
dred parts of wifely love freely applied,
and that tact, forbearance, good nature
and even good cooking were only mani-
festations of wifely love. However, it
will be evident to our readers that this
is all, only a difference of terms.
It is necessary to add that this recipe
has been tried for many gencrations.
In certain families it has been handel
down from mother to daughter for
many years, and up to date no reliable
substitute has been discovered for mak-
ing a good busband.—-Golden Rule.
——————————
A Big Crop of Icebergs.
I was tatking to an old sea captain,
one of those men who, although they
have abandoned active work, yet listen
to every story they hear which relates to
the business of their lives. “Do you
know,” said he, ‘that in ten years there
has been no such namber of icebergs
seen in the lane routes to Europe as dur-
ing the pust Summer. Nearly eve y
ship that came in from the first of June
to the end of September. reported ice.
Of course we suppose we get most of cur
Atlantic ice from Greenland and the op-
posite Hudson Bay country, if there be
glaciers to the far north on this side.
Exactly why the formation of glaciai ice
to the North should have been so great
during the Winter of '88—89 I do not
know, but it must have been something
unusual to account for the crop of bergs
we bad last Summer. A berg,you know,
is the broken offend of a glacier. The
glacier moves slowly down the sides of
the mountains, forced ¢. travel on by its
uwn weight. It pushes its end into the
sea and goes ahead until the hfting
power given to the water by the differ-
ence 1n specific gravity between water
and ice is sufficient to overcome the co-
hesion of the mass. Then the end sim-
ply cracks off and floats, and a berg is
born. From the number of bergs seen
we can argue back to the amoantof gla-
cial ice formed. I see that Captain Roc-
quet, of the Britsh steamer Maine, re-
ports having seen a berg 2,600 feet long
and 450 feet high. That would make a
fair-sized berg, but not a great one.
Berus have been seen fivé miles long
and 600 feet high. Captain Rocquet’s
report is interesting from the fact that
the bergs seem to have turned up again,
h ving disappeared for some six weeks.”
—New York Star.
How a Fire Startep.—Says the
London Daily News: How the terri-
ble fire which has destroyed the vil-
lage of Moot, in Hangary, originated,
is thus tuld by our Vienna correspon:
dent: A farmer's wife was ironing in
her kitchen, using a flatiron filled with
charcoal, when a spark flew out and
set fire to her muslin dress. In her
fright she ran into the courtyard
where her husband and his people were
threshing barley. The barley canght
fire from her and was no sooner ablaze
than the wind blew the sparks in all
directions, setting fire to the thatched
roofs of the houses which stood in two
long rows, forming the main street.
All was so sudden and the people were
so dumbfounded that for a little time
they could not even call for help. Most
of the heads of families were in the
vineyards and their help was not avail-
able until they had been recalled by
the alarm bell. The old people and
children in the houses had not presence
of mind enough to save themselves, It
had not rained for a long time, and the
wells contained no water, so that noth-
ing could be done to save even a single
honse. In all 109 houses were destroy-
ed and 134 families are without a roof
above their heads. The harvest was
over and the corn in the barns was
consumed in the general conflagration,
which was a teriible spectacle as night
came on. Ten bodies have been found
and some children are missing. Near-
ly everybody in the neighborhood is
suffering from burns received in rescue
work.
Cleveland and Hill in Harmony.
W asHINGTON, D. C., Nov. 29.—Con-
gressman Tracy, of New York, ex-Presi-
dent Cleveland's friend, is quoted as say-
ing that there is no such antagonism to
Mr. Cleveland in the State of New York
as many people outside of the State sus-
pect. There are many friends of Gov-
ernor Hill who would like to see him in
the Presidency, but they would not hols
the ticket if Mr. Cleveland were to be
nominated, There is no feeling to
amount to anything. Mr. Cleveland
would lose no more Democratic votes
than Mr. Hill would if he were running.
If a demand from the country for Cleve-
land comes all New York will be for
him.
There is no other country on the
globe in which the construction ~of ean-
als and the canalization of rivers would
be attended by greater advantages than
in the United States ; but we bave been
so absorbed in railroad building that we
have only thought of and talked about
such enterprises ; but the time will come
when their great importance will be re-
cognized.
OLD MAN THURMAN.
A song for old man Thurmgp,
And sing it clear and sipong ;
His life has been a sermyy,
Now let it ve a song,
And this shall be its byrden
To give us greatest joy,
He calls his old wife “Sweetheart,”
And loves her like a boy.
There is Bo fairer story
In all onr nation’s life;
No better, purer glory
In all its peace and strife.
True 1s that man and steadfast,
Fine gold with no alloy,
Who calls his old wife “Sweetheart,”
And loves her like a boy !
Who cares for his position,
On questions of the day ?
He has a higher mission,
A nobler part to play !
Smiling and patient ever,
Though Age and Pain annov,
He calls his old wite “Sweethear:,”
And loves her like a boy!
A fig for flowery diztion
Of specious eloquence !
A fig for all the fiction
Of wealth and vain pretense !
Here is a man whose glory
Noenvy can destroy,
He calls his old wife “Sweetheart,”
And loves her like a bo. !
We well conld spare the splendor,
And tinsel of these days;
Give us true hearts and tender,
And plain old fashion ways !
Of men like Allen Thurman
This world will never cloy,
Who calls his old wife ‘Sweetheart,’
Aud loves her like a boy !
—Georce Hortouin Chicago Herald,
He Thinks The: e's Millions in It.
It isn’t often that a newspaper report-
er is approached by those who have a
dead sure thing on a fortune and given
an opportunity to literally “waller in
wealth,” but such an opening came to a
member of The Free Press city staffa
few days ago. It was a young man from
Corunna who had the scheme, and, re-
garding the world as his oyster, he was
intent upon opening it without unneces-
sary delay.
“D> you want to make more money
in one day than you are now muking in
a month ?”" he asked the reporter.
The reporter said, strictly in con-
findence and not for publication, that
he did
“Well, you 2an do it. Now here is
ENE TLL LE TR ITE th ee
7
Aunt Shaffer’s Whim.
An Old Lady Who is Put to Sleep by
the Beating of a Drum.
Among the queer people in this part
of the world, says a letter from Findiay,
Obio. is Mrs. Ann Shaffer, familiarly
kuown us “Aunt Ann.” Shelives on a
farm with her husband about ten miles
from this city, is over 79 years old, and
in fuil possession of all her faculties.
Her chief peculiarity=for she has a
number—is that she cannot sleep unless
her husband beats the drum in front of
mer or winter, night ater night, the
roll of old Jacob Shaffer's drum can be
heard by the neighbors for miles around
as he leads the charge which his wife 1s
making into dreamland. He hasa
snare dram which he made for himself
during the early years of the war, and,
us he was incapacitated from going nto
the army by reason of. physical disabili-
pany of “home guards” which drilled
in his neighborhood,
first developed her strange mania. Be-
ing of a highly-nervous temperament
and much wrought up over the war, she
could not sleep at night unless her has-
band wus awake.
mitted to sleep until his wife
journeyed into the realms of slumber,
he put 1n time practicing upon his
drum. In this way “Aunt Ann’ grew
into the habit of falling asleep to the
systematic music of the drum, and soon
it became a necessity. She could not
sleep without solacing sound, and thus
the years have gone on, every night the
same. About 8 o'clock :
gets out his drum and goes to work as
it ne were leading a chargeon a battery,
and then gradually drops into slower
and more soothing music, until, at the
end of an hour's steady beating, he feels
convinced that his wife is sound asleep.
Then he puts aside his sleep-producer
and joins the partner of his joys and
sorrows on her excursion to slumberland.
er ——
“Do I Look Like a Lady ?”
About thirty years ago a young girl
my scheme, and I'll let you in, because
you're just the sort of a man I want in
this thing. Here is a stick of Dr. Wind-
gall’s medicated candy —six sticks to the |
pound —warranted to cure coughs, colds,
influenza, brouchitis, laringitis, tonsilitis
and all troubles of the thorax, and ,
borax, and things of that sort. That's
your rack: t, and you'll have to study up
s0 you can jingle it off and never ship a
cog. Butthis candy is all right as candy,
the medication being extra. It costs us
thirteen cents a pound and we sell it for
toirty, or five cents a stick, with the |
chance of drawing vold orsilver money, |
every seventh or eighth package con-
taining a $5 gold p eceor ten silver
dimes. Now our plan is to hirea vacant
store in some town wherever we go,
engage a brass band and geta crowd.
You’ve no idea how they crowd around
a brass band in a country town.”
“But how can we afford to give away
a $5 gold piece every seven or eight
sales and pay rent and pay the band ?”
asked the reporter.
“I'm coming to that. When the band
has finished its first piece you get up
behind the counter and begin to warble
your little warb, and sell the stuff 7
“Oh, yes; Isell thestuff. And you
—what do you do 1” :
“Why, I'm the young farmer that
finds a gold piece in every package he
buys, see ?"
BD —
The American Nomad.
A curious outgrowth of the rivalries |
of American cities is the practice that '
obtains so generally of offering bonuses
and pecuniary inducements to manutac-
turers to move their piants. After a
fire that burned down a part of a sewing
machine factory the other day the own-
ers received so many proposals from as-
piring cities that wanted to take them
in that they were obliged to publish a
notice to the effect that only a small
part of their works had been burned,
and that they were not open to proposals
for adoption. Any factory or establish-
ed business employing labor can have
its choice nowadays from a long list of
cities, new and old, any of which wiil
give it a site for a factory, pay the ex-
penses of moving, and perhaps contri-
bute substantially toward the construe-
tion of a new building. People who
own land oraae engaged in business in
cities realize that it pays them to have
their cities grow, and they are willing
to hire desirable inhabitants to come to
them. They rely upon getting their
money back in the increased value of
land or the general increase in business.
The result is that the migratory disposi-
tion already so pronounced in these
days is intensified, and it has become a
familiar thing not merely forindivinuals
to move but for great aggregations of
workingmen to shift the scene of their
activities from one city to another,
sometimes thousands of miles away.
Time was when where an average man
found himself living there he continued
to live, unless circumstances of excep-
tional urgency impelled him to change
his residence. It 1s different now.
Transportation has become so cheap,
and travel so easy, that the ties of local-
ity sit very lightly on the average Amer--
1can, and the fact that you find him set
tled this year in New York or Pennsy I-
vania affords you a very uncertain bass
for expecting to find him next year in
the same place. When you hear of him
again, if he hasn’t moved to Texas, or
Tacoma, or Southern California, or
Maine, or Norta Dakota, you feel that
he must have had some excepticnally
good reasons for staying at home. Men
used to wag their heads and croak about
the inability of rolling stones to gather
moss. We have changed all that,
Moss is at a discount and there is a pre-
mium upon rolling. — From “The
Point of View,’ in Scribner.
——The Russian czar’s wardrobe vies
in extent and variety with that of Hen-
ry Irving. His imperial majesty has
forty-five different uniforms, all of
which he has worn save one, that of a
Russian field marshal. Although the
titular head of his army, the czar has
vowed never to wear the dress of a field
marshal until this rank shall have been
conferred upon him by the other field
marshals after a victorious war.
{in a western city was given charge of a
| Sunday school class of” rough boys, as-
{ually known as “river rats,” who had
i never been in any school house before.
| When she entered the room she found
them lounging on the desks and benches
| wearing their hats, puffing vile cigars, a
| defiant leer un every face. They greel-
ed her with a oud laugh, and one of
them exclaimed :
“Well, sis, you goin’ to teach us?”
She stood si.ent until the laugh was
(over, and then said, quietly :
“Do I look like a lady ?”
An astonished stare was the only re-
ply which they gave.
“Because,” she continued gently,
“gentlemen, when a lady enters the
room, take off their hats and throw away
i their cigars.”
The lowest American secretly believes
i himself to be a gentleman, and in a mo-
| ment every hat was off aud the lads
| were arranged in orderly attention.
| So remarkable was the success of this
‘girl in managing and influencing men
of the roughest sort that she made it the
work of her life, says the Youth's Com-
panion. She established clean and
"respectable boarding- houses for sailors
and boatmen, and reading and coffee-
' rooms for laborers, and founded an Or-
der of Honor, the members of which
strove to live sober, christian lives them-
{ selves and to help their fellows to do the
| same.
| LE ES SAE
Clever Defense.
Baron Dal Borgo, the Danish envoy
at Madrid about fifty years ago, was
the soal of honor and good nature,
though the had neither the cleverness
nor the brilliancy belonging to certain
-diplomatists. One incident, however,
{ shows that he could act, when occasion
arose, and that with boldness and even
dramatic power.
| During the childbood of Queen Isa-
bella there were frequent political com-
motions, and one night Espartero, the
regent, baving incurred the displeasure
of the adverse party, was pursued
| through the streets by an infuriated
mob. He ran into the house where
Baron Dal Borgo had an apartment,
rang the bell wildly, and as soon as the
door was opened slipped inside and
barred it.
arrived und threatened to break open
the door if the fugitive were not deliv-
ered to them at once. Baron Dal Bor-
go himself unfastened the bolts and ap-
peared on the threshold. He pointed to
the Danish flag, which he had laid
across the entrance, and said calmly :
“The man you seek is here. Come
and take him if you like, but if one of
you steps on the colors of my country 1
will make Spain responsible to Denmarl
for the insult 1”?
The ‘attacking party paused, awed
into sobriety, and then turned about
and marched quietly away.— Youth's
Companion.
N> DANGER.—*“Beg pardon, sah,”
observed the tough looking waiter sug-
gostively. “Gents at this table usually —
er—remember me, sah.”
“I don’t wonder,” said the customer
cordially. “That mag of yours would
be hard to forget.”
And he picked up his check and
strolled leisurely in the direction of the
cashier.
——
—— Last year’s floods sent about 400,-
000,000 feet of lumber down the Sus-
quehanns, and a lnmberman’s exchange
was organized at Columbia to reap some
benefit from logs caught. To-day they
have 10,000,000 feet of lumber in stock
in the yards of their saw mill, and to
date the exchange has divided $300,000
among its members. It is estimated the
profits will reach $500,000.
——Did you ever think of how much
space the people who die every year re-
quire for decent burial ? If one could
be content with a grave 2 by 6 feet,
3,630 bodies could be interred 1n one
acre of ground, allowing nothing for
walks, monuments, roads, ete. On this
crowded plan London’s annual dead,
numbering about 81.000, would fill a
cemetery of about twenty-three acres.
the house for at least an hour ; and su:- |
ties, he did what he could for the coun- |
try by acting as the drummer for a com- |
It was during this period tha: his wife |
As he was not per- |
had first |
Uncle Jacob |
Presently the ringleaders of the mob
EERSTE
A Financial Genius,
He Offered to -Suve 240,000 Fraues
and Faieed, but Got a Free Dinner.
A needy Frenchman once heard that
a marringe was on the tapis between the
daughter of a certain wealthy nerchant
and the son of a rich banker. The dow-
ry that was to be given with the bride
was 500,000 francs. The merchant was
well known to be on the lookout for a
| good bargain or to save a dollar, so on
| this the Parisian founded his h pes of a
good dinner at least.
| Heaccordinsly called at the mor-
| chant’s residence and asked the privilege
| of seeing him on very important busi-
ness. After alittle while he was aduit-
: ted to his presence.
“The matter, sir, on which I called”?
"be began, “involves for vou the prac-
| tical saving of two hundred and iy
| thousand frances. I7- :
“Oh, my dear sir,” interrupted the
merchant, “this is too seriou: a maer
to be discussed before dinner, and us 1t is
{now my hour for dining pray take din-
| ner with me, and we will afterward con.
{ sider your proposition at our leisure.”
Having partaken of a meal that lef %
{ pleasant flavor in the anfortunate’s wom
| ory the rest of his life, they retired 10
| the merchant’s study.
| “And now 1 am readv to hear your
prop: <al,’’ he remarked.
The Parisian aftera moment's thoucoht,
| began : :
“I understand, sir, your daughter is
to be shortly married to the son of the
banker D’Argent 77’
“Yes, that is‘true.”
“And that her dowery is ha'f a mill
ion 7”?
This was also assented to.
“Well, then, here is my idea: I am
ready to take her with half that sum
and thus you will save or gain exactly
250,000 francs. y
The merchant could not but smile at
the proffer, though he did not profit by
it.— Philadelphia Times. :
emacs coger se——
A Stroke of Lightning.
So long as women will be foolish
men wili be deceptive. One day I sat
behind a couple on an Ohio and’ Missis-
sippi tain, and it wasn’t 10 minutes he-
fore IT discovered that the girl was a vil-
lage belle who knew nothing of the
world, and that her companion was a
traveler who saw in her a victim. Sev-
eral others noticed them as weil, but it
was hard to see how anything could be
done. He professed great admiration
for the girl, and she blushingly queried :
“But how am I to know you are not
a married man 2”
“Oh, but I assure
that I am not.”
“Where do you live 27?
“In Louisville.”
“And you have neither wife nor chil-
dren.”
“No,”
At that instant the conductor came in
with a telegram and called out the ad-
dress. “That's for me” said the man in
the seat ahead.
It was handed to him, and he was
siiling when he tore it open. Next
moment he fell forward in a heap and
rolled into the aisle ina dead faint.
Half a dozen of us, including the girl,
read the dispatch. Tt was dated Indian.
apolis and read :
“Your wife and baby burned up with
the house last night. Come at once.”
It took usu quarter of an hour to
bring him to, and it was half an hour
later when he left the tiains He
had forgotien the girl who shared
his seat, and she was crouched down
and crying like a baby.
——————
Generosity in a Dog.
you on my honor
Mr. J. A Bartlett, who discourses
of “The Fighting Instinct” in the pages
of Longman’s Magazine, knows a
Newfoundland dog who can drink de-
light ot battle with his peers, and yet
can show himself on occasions a gener-
ous foe.
One day this noble creature had what
the vulgar call a row, though Mr. Bart-
lett prefers to refer to it as “a smart al-
tercation,” with a predatory mastiff. Tt
was about that proverbial source of con-
tention, a bone, of which the predatory
mastiff had sought to possess himself
at the expense of his neighbor, and it
happened that in the course of the
struggle the combatants fell over a
bridge into the deep stream below.
Of course the Newtoundjand swam at.
once to the shore; but not s0 the mas.
tiff. The Newfoundland after a good
shake, was preparing to depart, when he
caught sight of his antagonist wildly
beating the water and arowning as fast
as he could.
“One look,” says Mr. Bartlett, “was
enough. In went he of the shaggy
coat, and. seizing the other by the col-
lar, Lrought his late enemy safe to
land.”
The little story ends with the state-
ment that the two dogs then eyed each
wther with a perfectly indescribable ex-
pression for some seconds, then silently
and solemnly wagged their caudel ap-
pendages, and with dignity departed.
« Such romantic generosity between
dogs of this sort is not likely to have
been thrown away. Can we be wrong
in assuming that the little ceremony
which Mr. Bartlett has noted embodied
a silent and solemn compact of mutual
respect for each other’s bones ?
TEP.
Warned in Time.
Yabsley-— So young Bjinx is to mar-
ry Miss Grimme, I hear. I might have
proposed to her myself if a rat had not
run into the room one evening when I
was calling on her. -
Wickwire—And when she jumped
up and screamed you got disgusted, I
suppose? You shouldn’t be so critical,
Yabsley A woman can’t help acting that
way. You mustn't expect a woman to
act otherwise.
Yabsley—But she didn’t do anything
of the kind. She coolly picked up a
book and smashed the life cut of Mr.
Rat the first time. She has entirely too
much nerve to suit me.— Terre Haute
Eapress.
Not many years ago the aban-
doned timber lands in Aroostook county,
Muine, away up near the British prov-
ince, were almost worthless for agricul--
tural purposes. Later on Swedes and
other industrious foreigners moved in,.
and now Aroostook county is the great-
est potato-growing county in New Eng-
land.
ee
74
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