Deworvaic Waldan
Bellefonte, Pa., May 15, 1891.
Rs iS a
THE MIRROR OF A LIFE.
“The sun is up,” he gayly cried ;
+1 think it meet that I
Should get my spade and rake, and haste
My garden luck to try.”
‘And so he toiled until he saw
Where he waa digging squirm
A corpulently beautiful,
Enticing fishing worm.
“I will a-fishing go,” said-he ,
And toward the stream he went;
But presently a toothsome duck
Its course near by him bent.
“My gun,” he thought,*‘I should Iaave
brought; :
.Ill.go and get it straight ;”
And so he homeward took his way,
Although the hour wasd ate. -
“The traveling I have done,” he vowed,
“Has use 1 me most severe ; .
I'll take the opportunity
To rest while I am here.”
And so he laid him down and slept,
And ere his sleep was done
The lake beside the western hill
Gleamed with the setting sun.
Alas! to see so poor a day
With good intent so rife !
Alas! how oft it may be found
The mirror of a life.
— Washington Post.
——————
AFTER ALL.
Tom:Barclay and Elizabeth Murray
never understood each other very well,
and yet they had been engaged for a
year. They had known each other
long before the engagement, too, but
although a man seldom quite under-
stand a woman, Tom was even more
dense in this respect than most men;
and Elizabeth, more difficult than most
women: for any man to comprehend,
unconscious of the fact, wondered at
‘Tom’'s'mavny failures in this direction.
They were good friends, however,and
thought they loved each other—had
even said so in strict confidence ; and,
as I said, were engaged to be married.
In fact, Miss Murray was already at
the mercy of dressmakers and miili-
‘ners, : for it was December—late De-
-cember—rand the wedding was set for
‘the: 10th of .January.
One night,the dressmakers and milli
‘ners having kindly waived their claims
for a few hours, Mr. Barclay called to
-gee his prospective bride. He was not
in the best possible humor ;:.:au ugly
-east wind: drove the sleet into his face
.as he walked the few blocks from the
cable cars to Miss Murray’s home, for
‘Tom thought too much of his horses
‘to take them out on such a night; a
man had failed him in an important
‘business appointment, and it is quite
‘possible that he was a trifle bilieus; at
-all events, he was about as cross as he
-ever allowed himself to become.
Now it happened that Elizabeth was
nearly worn out with the turmoil inci
dent to the preparations for a fashion-
able wedding. She was nervous and
irritable ; probably the east wind affect-
ed her also. - She meeded some one to
smooth her hair; talk tender, comfort
‘ing words—in short, pet her ‘ntil she
was rested ; for the woman never yet
lived who did not like occasional pet-
ng.
Now Thomas Barclay wag not a de-
mmonstrative man,and petting was some-
‘what out of his line. How was he to
iknow, especially in his unamiable
mood, that the young girl soon to be-
«come his wife was in no comdition to
meet im patience patiently ?
“Thank fortune,” he said ungraci-
ously,kissiag her as a matter of course, |
and dropping into a chair, “this: dress-
making row will soon be over. I've
scarcely sees you for a month. I won't
have a dressmaker on the place after
we are married.”
Mr. Barclay did not.mean anything
by this speech ; it wassimply an ebulli-
tion of temper, and Elizabeth should
have met it as such. It suited her
mood, however, to retort with :
“Indeed! I mean to have a dress
maker in the house all the time.”
“I wouldn't if & were you,” disagree-
ably, “especia'ly against my wishes.”
“And it I should ?’ she returned de-
fiantly.
“Well—--" then common sense assert-
ed itself, and he laughed. “Do you
know, Beth, we are just ready toquarrel
about nothing? My wife will probably
do as she pleases.”
Miss Murray did net smile. She was
morbidly sensitive,and au ugly thought
had lodged in her brain. She said
quietly,—
“Tom, I don’t like that remark of
yours at all. I wonder if it is poseible
that after our marriage you would at-
tempt to coerce me in the least?”
Tom was cbstinate. It would have
been better not to have asked the ques-
tion. He said:
“A woman promises to obey when
she marries.” .
“Not always ; the word is frequently
left out of the marriage service. Lt
would be better left out of ours.”
“Do you mean that you will not
obey ?"” asked he, looking at her cu-
riously,
“Just that.”
“A man is the head of the family ; it
is a wife's duty to obey.”
“So I have heard. I never thought
of marriage in this light before—a bon-
dage. It seems to me that a woman's
freedom is. something not to be given
upglightly. I have never heen dictated
{fo by any one since I left school, and
do not believe I should take it kindly.
Tom, I don’t believe I want to marry
you or anybody ; why,” with a sudden
flash of passion, “if you laid a com:
mand upon me after our marriage, I
really believe I should hate you 1”
It erossed Tom’s mind that it might
be as well for a man to curb his temper
till after the wedding day. He rose,
walked across the room, pushed aside
the heavy curtain, and looked out.
The prospects was not pleasing; the
sky was black, and the driving sleet
pelted against the plate glass. He
came back to where Miss Murray sat
looking into the fire and apparently
lost in thought.
“Elizabeth, I thought yoy loved me,” '
“Did you ? I thought so too, though
I have been told often «enough that I
didn’t.”
“Who told you so ?”
“Mamma for one, Aunt Clare for an-
other. You see, mamma married papa
for love when he was a poor man, and
| Aunt Clare's husband died before the
{ honeymoon was over. She mourns
him “yet. They always-said that I
didn’t known the first principles of
love ; perhaps they were right.”
Mr. Barclay was never so thoroughly
| astonished in his twenty-eight years of
| life ; he asked, rather stiffly—
“Will you kindly state why you en-
gaged yourself to me?”
“Well, Tom, I always liked you.
{ We've known each other for years.
‘Our familiesare intimate. What more
natural than that -you, the only son,
and [,theonly daughter, should marry ?
Besides,” with a little break in the clear
voice, “until to-night I thought you
loved me.”
Tom pulled his chair close to Eliza-
| beth’s and drew her head down to his
shoulder. He ought to have done that
earlier in the evening. Then he said :
“My dear, what possesses you? You
known 1 love you.”
For an instant the yellow head re-ted
where he had placed it; then Miss
Murray drew herself away and rose
{ to her feet.
“Na, Tom, it is too late to make me
believe that. Weare not fitted to make
each other happy; I am quite certain
of it. Let us break oft our engage-
ment.”
“And all on account of that speech
of mineabout a dressmaker!” he .ex-
claimed savagely.
“Not entirely that. I feet that you
de not love me, and something tells me
that I ought not tobe your wife.”
Mr, Barclay, man:like, loved the wo-
man who was slipping :away from him
at this moment, better than ever be-
fore, and he had loved her always in
his way ; he had made a mistake in
not showing his affection more plainly.
“Seth,” he said, “forgive me. I
didn’t mean it. I was a brute. As my
wife you will be free as air; you must
know that. Think a moment ; it is not
an unpardonable offence, is it?"
“ tell you it is not hecause of what
you said,” she reiterated, “It is be-
cause I know you do not love me, and
that I am not sure that I love you.”
Mr. Barclay’s temper began to rise
again. He remarked :
“This is a nice statement for a man
to hear three weeks befor: his mar-
riage 1”
“Much nicer than it would be three
weeks after,” she retorted. “The in-
vitations are not out ; no one outside of
our families know that the day was
set. I will takemy finery,” she added,
with a smile, “and go to Italy. Take
your ring, Tom, and say good-by,”
drawing off the diamond.
Mechanically Tom dropped the ecir-
clet into his pocket. Suddenly he took
a step toward her, caught her in his
arms, kissed her once—twice—three
times, with all the passion of a man
who loves, then, releasing her, turned
and left the room, while Miss Murray,
white and trembling, sank into her
chair, hid her face and cried bitterly.
Much to Elizabeth’s surprise Mer.
Barclay made no attempt to see or
speak to her again. She explained,
where it was necessary :
“Mr. Barclay and I have changed
oar minds.”
A month later she and Aunt Clare
were outward bound, with Italy for
their goal. The remainder of the win-
ter and the following spring aad sum-
mer were speat roaming from place to
place; then one of those financial
cyclones called a panic swept over the
United States, and Miss Murray and
her aunt were called home. Thomas
Barclay, though a young man, was a
large dealer in coffees, teas and spices.
His was one of a dozen firms that tail-
ed that autumn, Dishonest and un-
fortunate creditors had cost him a
hundred thousand dollars. But that
cut no figure in settling up his own
affairs. He cleared his stables, sold
every inch of real estate, and when his
own creditors were paid dollar for dol-
lar, Mr. Barclay had a clean con-
science, a stainless record, and five
thousand dollars in cash.
He went West, and Miss Murray
heard no more of him. Her father,
an importer of silks and foreign fabrics,
curtailed expenses, and, aided by a
generous loan from Aunt Clare,weather-
ed the storm,
One summer two years later, Eliza-
beth and her mother joined a party
who were going to make & tour of the
northwest, penetrating even the wilds
of Alaska before their return.
It was in Portland that Miss Murray
met with an accident, and a treacher-
ous banana peeling was to blame for it.
She had goue out alone to make some
small purchases, and stepping on the
deceitful peel fell to the ground.
A crowd was gathering. A gentle-
man offered his assistance, and Eliza-
beth was taken to the nearest store,
while the gentleman called a carriage
and then accompanied her home, It
was Tom Barclay.
In spite of the pain, Miss Murray
could not help looking at the man who
was to have been her husband. That
individual met her eyes and said :
“Well
Miss Murray blushed, paiafally con-
scious that she Lad been staring.
“It is so long since I have seen you,
and we used to be such good friends,”
she replied gently.
“Whose fault is it that you have not
geen fe forso long?” he demanded ;
and then, noting her fading color and
pale lips, he said. “What a brute I
am to question you se, when you are
suffering such pain! I was never gentle
enough to win your love, Beth.”
“Did you ever try, Tom ?"
“I thought I did.”
“Did you take everything for granted
~that you loved me, and that I cared
for you, and that in the course of hu-
man events it was natural and proper
that we should get married ?”
“Perhaps so,” he answered quietly ;
and then the carriage stopped, the
driver was at the door, and Elizabeth
was carried up to her room.
It was an ugly, obstinate sprain, and
*held its victim a prisoner for six long
weeks. The party went on to Alaska,
leaving Mrs. Murray and her daughter
at the hotel, and quite as a matter of
course, Tom Barclay called often. He
was wonderfully gentle toward the wo-
man who had refused to be his wife.
Elizabeth did not know that he was
trying to win her love, but Mrs. Murray
was well aware of that fact, and well
satisfied, too. Tom was established in
the old business in Portland, and again
on the road to wealth. She had al-
ways liked him,and shrewdly suspected
that his presence on this planet had
something to do with her daughter's
strange 1udifference to certain brilliant
matrimonial chances,
As for Elizabeth, she was utterly
content and happy during the period of
invalidism that confined her to the
house. What cared she for the beauties
of Alaska, of which her friends wrote
such glowing descriptions ? Did she not
have long talks with Tom every other
evening ? Though she took care that he
knew nothing of her quickening heart
beats and bounding pulses whenever he
approached.
Elizabeth had been able to walk for
a week, Her friends were due in two
days un their return trip, and she and
her mother were to join them and start
immediately for home.
Mr. Barclay asked the convalescent
to take a ride with him. He was thirty-
one, Elizabeth twenty-five. Mrs. Mur-
ray did not think a chaperon necessary ;
neither did Tom. They went alone.
They were far better acquainted than
in the days when they were engaged.
Miss Murray admired the honest cour-
age, the persevering independence,with
which her friend was rebuilding his
fortune, and Tom loved her as he al-
ways had, as he always would, and had
learned to show his affection in many
of the thousand ways, that delight a
woman's heart.
They talked of the scenery, of her
accident, and then of the coming part-
ing. Suddenly Tom exclaimed :
“Oh Beth, my darling, give me a
word of hope before you go! You were
mistaken in the old days. I always
loved you, and now that we have met
aga, I cannot let you go out of my
life forever.”
“If you always loved me, why have
you been silent all these years?” in-
quired Elizabeth.
“Because I was stunned that night
when I left you, realizing that by my
own stupid blundering I had lost you.
Then I set myself to do a penance. I
said, ‘I will wait three years; if an-
other wins her I shall know that she
could never love me; if not, I will try
again to gain her love. Perhaps I
shall know her better.” You know the
rest. The crash came. I hadto come
West and begin over again. Iam not
as rich as I was then, but there is every
prospect that I shall be, and I know,
Beth, that money makes no difference.
I can give you everything you want,
even the dressmaker; and indeed, in-
deed, darling, that speech of mine was
only the out-come of bad temper, and”
(hesitatingly) “perhaps I understand a
woman’s moods little better now tban
then.”
There was a short silence, while Mr.
Barclay, having made his plea, waited
for the verdict. At length Elizabeth
said softly ——
“Perhaps I loved you then, Tom. I
could never care for any oneclse. I
alway compared other men with you,to
their disadvantage. 1f you care to
eome after me, souie time, I will be
your wife.”
Out of an inner pocket Tom took a
tiny morocco case,and opening it, Miss
Murray saw the solitaire that had been
her engagement ring.
“I have always carried it with me,”
he said simply, “because you had
worn it”?!
Somehow the tears sprang to Eliza-
beth’s eyes when he slipped it on her
finger.
Mrs. Murray was not at all surprised
when her daughter announced with a
blush, that she was going to marry
T'homas Barclay.
“I always thought you would,” that
lady replied calmly.
The next winter Tom went east after
his bride. They are happier than they
would have been without that quarrel,
a blending of comedy and high tragedy,
but it does not follow that any one
should go and do likewise.— Yankee
Blade.
June, July and August.
The most charming Summer Resorts,
of which there are over three hundred
choice locations, are to betound in Wis-
consin, Iowa, Minnesota, South Dako-
ta and the Peninsula of Michigan,
along the lines of the Chicago, Milwau-
kee & St. Paul Ry. Nearly all are lo-
cated near lakes which have not been
fished out.
These resorts are easily reached by
railway and range in Variety from “full
dress for dinner’ to the flannel-shirt cos-
tume for every meal.
SEPTEMBER AND OCTOBER.
The finest shooting, grounds in the
Northwest are on and tributary to the
lines of the Chicago, Milwaukee & St.
Paul Ry. The crop of Prairie Chick-
ens will be exceptionably good this year;
also Ducks and Geese. In Northern
Wisconsin and the Peninsula of Michi-
gan splendid Deer shooting is to be had.
Full information furnished free. Ad-
dress, Geo. H. HeEA¥ForRD, Gen. Pass.
Agt., Chicago, Ill., or to Jorn R. Port.
D. P. a,. Williamsport, Pa.
CHEERING [NTELLIGENCE.—Rejected
Suitor (dolefully )—You say you will be
a sister to me ; what do you mean by
that ?
Sweet girl (cheerfully)-—~Why, when
I get marrjed, you may send me a nice
wedding present, you know.
A GREAT CATCHER.—“Jimmie hard-
ly got rid of the chicken pox before he
was down with scarlet fever.”
“George, that boy will make a boss
detective.”
“Why 7"
“He catches everything.”
THE DESERTED HOUSE.
Back from the road, up the old path,
Unmindful of harvest and aftermath,
With empty casements, drear and gray.
The house stands, facing down the bay—
And either side of the slanting gate,
The faithful sentinel lilacs wait.
Deep tangling vines with close embrace
The porch’s fluted columus trace.
And busy swallows dart and call
From out the rain-stained, sagging wall—
And longing, watching, de:olate,
The faithful sentinel lilacs wait.
At dusk in the old house I see
A dancing light’s weird mystery.
Is it a firefly’s fitful gleam,
Or some ghost candle’s flickering beam ?
Is it for this, when the hours grows late
The faithful sentinel lilacs wait ?
—Boston Transcript.
Picking the Ears.
People who are in the habit of “pick-
ing their ears” with the heads of pins,
earspoons, etc., frequently suffer from
small abscesses in the parts irritated.
These are called aural furuncles, and
are not only exceedingly annoying, but
are often very painful. A wise old doe-
tor once cautioned a patient never to put
any thing in his ear but his elbow. This
is good sound advice, which all should
follow, and if they do they will seldom
ever be troubled with the abscesses in
question. When one of them forms it
is well to use the following mixture:
Menthol, fifteen grains; sweet oil, five
drams.
‘Wet a small piece of cotton with this
and gently press it back into the passage
to the ear until it lies over the abscess.
Renew the application twice a day. Ap-
propos of this, a sad case of ear trouble
has recently been brought to the notice
of the writer. A few weeks ago a bug
crawled into the ear of a young man,
causing, of course, much discomfort.
He sought a physician, who endeavored
to remove the intruder, using instru-
ment wholly unsuited to the purpose.
The result was that he tore out com-
pletely the drum membrane of the ears
and yet the bug remained behind. Then
he syringed out the ear, as he should
have done in the first place, and so ex-
pelled the offender. The victim of the
operation is “stone deaf” on the affected
side -— Boston Herald.
——Just now the moths are so plenti-
ful it is well for housekeepers to bear in
mind that it is not the flying moth that
causes the trouble. The moth lays from
18 to 140 eggs at a time. In from three
to seven days these hatch out into little
worms, which spin a tiny case for them-
selves from the carpet, fur or other ma-
terial containing animal substance in
which they were laid, All the damage
is done in the thirty-six days from the
time the eggs are laid until the grab
reaches its full size. Two things are
sure death—benzine spray and Paris
green or any arsenical preparation, but
they are both so dangerous that few can
use them. Camphor, or even camphor
tar, are only partially repellant to the
flying moth and have no effect whatever
on the grub, so that furs and garments
may be locked up with pounds of cam-
phor and when opened found eaten to
pieces. The benzine spray is the best
known preventive against moths, but a
light should not be brought in the room
where it has been used until it has been
well aired.
The Housekeeper.
SALT AS A MorH EXTERMINATOR.—
For moths salt is the best exterminator.
The nuns in one of the hospital convents
have tried everything else without suc-
cess, and their experience is valua-
ble, as ther have so much clothing of the
sick who go there, and strangers when
dying often leave there quantities of
clothing, etc. They had a room full of
feathers, which were sent there for pil-
low making. and they were in despair,
as they could not exterminate the:
moths until they were advised to try
common salt. They sprinkled it around
and in a week or ten days they were al-
together rid of thea moths, They are
never troubled now.—Chicago Herald,
To Destroy FrLiEs.—It is perhaps
not generally known that black pepper
(not red) is a poison for many insects.
The following simple mixture is said to
be the best destroyer of the common
house fly extent: Take equal propor-
tions of fine black pepper, fresh ground,
and sugar, say enough of each to cover
a ten-cent piece ; moisten well with a
spoonful of milk, (alittle cream is bet-
ter,) keep that in yourroom and it will
keep down the flies. One advantage
over other fly poisons is, that it injures
nothing else ; and another, that the flies
seek the air, and never die in the house
—the windows being open.
ToueH.— Say,” said a man to a
butcher of whom he purchased his daily
supply of meat, “that last piece of steak
I bought of you must have been from a
steer old enough to vote.”
“Was it tough ?’’ inquired the man of
meat.
“Tough! “Well, T should say it
was. I could hardly cut it.”
Oh, is that all ? Well, you ought to
have heard another man kicking a day
or two ago. He bought a piece that he
said was so tough he couldn’t get his
fork in the gravy.”
Like A MiLrioN.—- Jack, I tell you
what, Maud makes quite a figure in so-
ciety.
Tom—Yes. When I see her at a
party with her dude admirers she re-
minds me of a million.
Jack--? 7?
Tom—She is one followed by half a
dozen nothings.
A Long JourNey.—He (as they
wondered through country lanes)—I
could go through life contented with
you at my side.
She (in a burst of rapture) —Jack, if
you’ll buy a carriage it’s a go.
His TFaraer’s Own, — Bridges--Is
your new baby goed looking ?
Brooks—No ; ugly as gin.
Bridges— What does your wife say ?
Brooks—She’s zontent ; says it looks
like me.
——The galvanized telephone wires
in London, England, weighing 220
pounds to the mile, have been replaced
with silicon bronze wires weighing
thirty-six pounds to the mile.
Ee ——————————————— a —— i —————— sae
Remarkable Facts.
Every One of Which You Will Find
Most Interesting.
Postal cards are made at the rate of
4,000 per minute.
The city of Chicago in its present
boundaries contains 173 square miles.
On dark nights a white light can be
seen farther than any other color; on
bright nights red takes the first place.
One hundred and seventy-five million
cells are 1n the lungs, which would cover
a surface thirty times greater than the
human body.
The average pulse in infancy is 120
per minute; in manhood, 80; at 60
years, 60; the pulse of females is more
frequent than of males.
A bundle of spider webs not larger
than a buckshot and weighing less than
one drachm would, if straightened out
and untangled, reach a distance of 250 |
miles,
England is the greatest pin-making
country in the world; its product i®
about 50,000,000 pins a year, and Bir-
mingham is the center, with an outturn
of 87,000,000.
Not including Alaska, Brazil is lare-
er in extent than the United States, it
possesses within its limits an area of 3,-
287,964 square miles, with a population
of 12.338,375.
Vegetable flannel is a textile material
now largely manufactured in Germany
from pine leaves ; the fibre is spun, knit-
ted, and woven into undergarments and
clothing of various kinds,
Of 13 million barrels of salt annually
consumed in the United States Michi-
gan furnished two-sixth, New York
one-sixth, ten other salt producing
states one-sixth and two-sixth are im-
ported.
Sweden is perhaps the most Protest-
ant country in the world ; of a popula-
tion of 6 millions there are only 2,000
Reman Catholics, the remainder of the
population belonging almest entirely to
the Lutheran church,
Tax stamps have been established in
Switzerland to enable the poorer classes
to pay their taxes in small installments ;
the taxpayer can buy weekly a few
twenty-five or thirty centime stamps,
and so gradually clear off his debt to
the government.
The longest reach of railway without
a curve is that of the New Argentine
Pacific railway. from Buenos Ayres to
the foot of the Andes, for 211 miles it is
without a single curve, and has no cut-
ting nor embankment deeper than ‘wo
feet or three feet.
Twenty-one observatories are now en-
gaged in the international undertaking
of photographing the entire heavens; |
each observatory will have to take about
700 photographs in the zone assigned to
it, and it is hoped to finish the work in
three or four years.
Tle tottast region on the earth is on
the south western coast of Persia, where
Persia borders the guif of thesame name;
for forty consecutive days in the months
of July and August, the thermometer
has been known not to fail lower than
100 degrees night or day.
In water in which vegetables have
been infused, the microscope discovers
auimalculi so minute that 100,000 of
them would not exceed in bulk a single
mustard seed, and these infinitesimal
creatures are supplied with organs as
complete as those of the whale or ele-
phant.
The amount of coloring power stored
in coal is such that one pound of the
mineral yield magenta sufficient to color
500 yards of flannel, aurine for 120 yards
of flannel, 27 inches wide, vermillion
scarlet, for 2,560 yards of flannel, aliza-
rin for 255 yards of Turkey-red cloth.
1t is calculated that a range of moun-
tains consisting of 176 cubic miles of
solid rock falling into the sun would on-
ly maintain the heat for a single second;
a mass equal to that of the earth would
maintain the heat for only ninety-three
years, ar.d a mass equal to that of the
sun itself falling into the sun would af-
ford 33 million years of sun-heat.
The gold beaters of Berlin, at the
Paris exposition, showed gold leaves so
thin that it would require 282,000 to
produce the thickness of a single inch,
yet each leaf is so perfect and free from
holes as to be impenetrable to the strong-
est electric light; if these leaves were
bound in book form it would take 15,-
000 to fill the space of ten common book
leaver,
The Fastest Mile Yet Made.
The following items will prove of in-
terest to little folks:
The fastest mile run by a 1ailroad
train was made in 40; seconds.
The record for the fastest mile made
on skates is 2 minutes 12-8-5 seconds. .
The fasiest mile made in rowing in a
single boat took 5 minutes 1 second.
The fastest mile ever made by a run-
ning horse was run in 1 minute 35
seconds.
The fastest mile by a man on a tri-
cycle was madein 2 minutes 49 2-5 se-
conds.
The fastest time on snow shoes for a
mile is recorded as 5 minutes 393% se-
conds.
The best time for a mile by a man on
a bicycle is recorded as 2 minute 29 4-5
seconds. ;
The fastest mile ever made by a man
swimming was done in 26 minutes 52
seconds.
The fastest mile ever accomplished by
a man walking was madein 6 minutes
23 seconds.
In ranning, the fasts mile made by a
man was accomplished in 4 minutes
12} seconds.
The annual statement of the pie in-
dustry in New York city shows that
there are 20 establishments that bake
pies exclusively. Of these one com-
pany turns out 8,500 pies a day, or 2,-
660,500 pies a year, not counting Sun-
days, and another averages 7,000 a
day, 2,191,000 a year.
SE ES A RE
“A Corinna farmer,” notes the
Angusta Journal, “recently sold 1,600
bushels of potatoes, of his own raising,
for 85 cents per bushel. This means
$1,360, and would indicate that farm-
ing must pay in Penobscot county.
Tn
TROT
Who Are You?
And Who Can You Prove It By ?
!
| A citizen of Detroit, who has resided
here for nearly twenty years, and who
has for the past dozen years run a small
carpenter shop on his own hook, got a
check on one of the banks the other day
and stepped in to have it cashed.
“You have to be identified, sir, 7’re-
plied the casher, as he handed back tke
paper.
{ “But Iam John Blank, the carpen-
ter.”
“Possibly you are, but you'll have to
bring some one who knows you.’’
“Ill bring twenty in five minutes!”
‘somewhat tartly exclaimed the man as
he walked out.
Standing on the steps of the bank he
scanned the faces of the passers-by, and
to his own great surprise it was ten
minutes before he saw the phiz of a
friend: The two entered the bank, and
the latter said to the casher:
“I know this man to be John
Blank.” :
“But, who are you ?”’
“I'm Stephen Dash.”
“Never heard of you. He must bring
some one whom I know is respon-
sible.”
“See here!” This is all nonsense?’
exclaimed the owner of the check, who
was in a hurry.
“Perhaps so,” was the cool reply.
“Mr. Dash, do you positively know
this man to be John Blank ?”
“Of course I do.”
“Have you ever had a legal paper
with his signature ?”’
“No-0,”
“Ever pay him an account or collect
one by that name ?”’
“I guess not.”
“Could you safely make affidavit th at
that is his real name ?” r
“I--I—don’t believe I could. I've
just heard him called John Blank.”
Mr. Blank brought in three other
men, each one of whom started in with
the greatest confidence, but came out of
the little end of the horn when asked
the usual questions. At len~th he re-
membered a man to whom he sold a
piece of property three or four years
ago, and he walked half a mile to bring
him to the bank.
“You identify him as John Blank, do
you ?” queried the teller,
“Well, he signed that name to the
deed.”
“Would you make oath that he is the
same person ?”’
“Um! Um! I think he is!”
“But will you sign a bond to make
this $200 good if he isn’t 2”
“On, no! Now, that I begin to look
at it more closely I see a difference.”
“What !”” shouted Blank. “Haven't
I lived within stone’s throw of you for
ten years ? ”’
“Y-a-s,”” was the hesitating reply.
“Didn’t I build a barn for you ?”’
“I—I guess you did.”
“Haven’t you se=n me almost every
day for years and years?’
“Well, I've seen you or somebody
who looks very much like you. I think
you are John Blank, but of course I
can’t swear to it.”
The money was paid and the teller
afterwards said :
"He was the right party, of course,
but had I carried out our rule to the
letter I doubtifhe could have found a
man among all his neighbors to swear
to his identity. I don’t believe we have
ten men in Detroit who can prove their
| legal identity without taking an hour’s
time to do it. A man knows another
as Smith, Jones or Green, but that isn’t
legal knowledge, and it would bother
some of our leading merchants to tur-
nish legal proofs to establish the fact
poet they are the persons they claim to
e.”’
Baby McKee’s Break.
WASHINGTON, May 3.-—A telegram
went out from this city on Saturday
that caused a gleam of satisfaction to
spread over the Presidential face on the
Pacific coast. It was to the effect that
Benjamin Harrison McKee who had
been left in charge of the Government
while the rest of the family went swing-
ing around the circle, had donned
pants. In the exuberance of his de-
light the favorite grandson of the Presi-
dent strutted all over the building,
calling upon everybody to take notice of
his manly appearance.
All would have gone well had it not
been for the fact that the youngster
met the wife of a Cabinet Minister
in the East Parlor, who had several
young ladies with her. Young McKee
called out to the lady in a loud voice:
“Do you wear pants? Ido.”
There were blushes, a slight scream,
and Baby McKee was rushed off to the
conservatory.
AnD Famma FrownED.—He hadn’t
seen her for a long time, and, of course,
they had an infinite deal of nothing to
say to each other. Little sister, there-
fore, was very much de trop.
“Run along upstairs, dear,” she said
to the littie one. “I’ll give you some
candy if you will.”
“There’s a good girl. Please do.”
“But 1’d rather stay here.”
“I won’t let you come into my room
while I'm dressing if you don’t.”
But even this direful threat had no
effect, and little sister remained. Pres-
ently mamma came in and the conver-
sation lagged a trifle. Suddenly a
thought struck little sister.
“Say,” she asked, “what did you
want me to go upstairs for a while
ago ?"'— Chicago Post.
-
Just iN THE NICK oF Time.—The
father of the family, disturbed by the
noise, entered suddenly.
“Who is doing all this loud talking ?”’
he inquired.
Master Tommy, who was standing on
the centre-table, took off the pair of his
grandmother’s spectacles he had on,
looked solemnly at the congregation of
neighbor’s children seated in front of
him, glanced at the dumb watch he car-
ried, and said :
“My hearers, leeve this subject with
you. Services this evening at the usual
hour. "We will now take up our regu-
lar collection. A considerable amount
is needed for incidentals, and friends
will please respond liberally.”
It cost Tommy’s father $1.75 to get
out of the room gracefully.--Chcago
Tribune.
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