Bellefonte, Pa., August 26, 1904.
I ER A THAR IRs.
HIS DEFINITION.
And what is a girl ?
A morsel of ribbon and feathers and lace ;
A mischievous elf with an angel’s face :
A thorn that will tease you, :
A rose that will please you.
A wil-0’ the-wisp for eluding your chase—
And that is a girl!
And what is a girl?
A riddle whose meaning no mortal can guess;
With “No” on her tongue when her heart would
Say “Yes I”
Half artful, half simple,
Half pout and half dimple,
Whose eyes will betray what her lips would
repress—
And that is a girl!
— Harlem Life.
THE MESSAGE OF THE ROSE.
Must you go, Mis’ Summers?’ Miss
Jane followed the stiffly starched, rustling
skirts of her portly visitor to the front
door, and stood standing on the threshold,
ber thin arms folded under her blue and
white kitchen apron as a protection agains
the chilly wind. *‘If you’d stay an’ eat a
bite, Elviry will make some hot crumpets,
the kind brother Luke used to be so pow-
erfually fond of, poor soul! An’ how’s
your garden, Mis’ Summers ?”’
“Mr. Summers ain’t had time to tend to
plantin’ yet,’”” Mrs. Summers replied com-
placently, fastening her black-cloth ea
secarely around her pink, creased neck.
‘‘He’s heen spendin’ the week in court.
Them great lawyers there are jest wild for
his opinions, an’ nothin’ would do but he
had to set on the jury. They feed them
grand. He writ home he was havin’ a
splendid time eatin’ at the hotel there.
Mr. Summers alius was found of society an
dissipatin’.”’
‘*Ain’t that pot of roses in your back
window a handsome sight? Is it General
Jacq’minos, Mis’ Jane? The one Elviry’s
brother, Jasper’s wife, Matildy, gave youn
off his grave afore she took up with shat
second handed man she married? How
many buds has that rose got?”’
“*Twenty-four,”” answered Miss Jane
promptly, as her guest cast a last admir-
ing glance at the gorgeons plant on its
table in the sunny window. ‘‘Them little
green bugs nearly eat him up last week;
but the General’s real hale an’ hearty, an’
he jest seemed to get his temper up an’
fight them away. What do you think,
Mis’ Summers?’’ Yesterday a greenhouse
man had the impudence to come here an’
ask me to sell the General. Sell him?
think of it! Why, I set morestore on him
than I do on my own flesh an’ blood! It’s
not a rose to me; but it’s a message from
Jasper, lyin’ there forgotten in his grave
- while his widow goes an’ puts on airs a-
marryin’ a second-banded man from town,
‘Oh, I’m not a-critisizin’ anybody, Mie’
Summers. Matildy stopped bein’ one of
my family when she went back to her peo-
ple the day after the funeral; but the Gen-
eral has more than took her place, an’ he’s
as much a member of my family now as me
or Elviry is. An’ money can’s buy him!
Miss Jane declared most emphatically, ber
eyes flashing in determination all the time.
‘‘What did he offer yon ?”’ Mrs. Sum-
mers bad a commercial appreciation of
values which few of her neighbors possess-
ed.
‘‘Ten dollars, pot an’ all,”’ Miss Jane
announced importantly.
“Well, it does seem to me that I'd wait
a mighty long time afore I refused ten dol-
lars when you can get another message
from Jasper when the thaw sets in. I
guess, if instead of rememberin’ the dead
so much youn’d not he forgettin’ the livin’,
folks wouldn’s talk so much, Miss Jane.
Elviry ain’t lookin’ well this winter. Of
course when a girl gets to be over twenty-
five an’ unmarried, she begins to be an old
woman. I tell my Emma if she’s goin’ to
be an’ old maid I jest want her to pattern
Elviry Osmond. I’ve sent to the city for
a new dress for her. She's goin’ to wear
it to the minister’s pound party next
week.’’
‘‘Elviry ain’t but two years older than
your Emina,’’ Miss Jane retorted quickly,
biting her narrow lips to conceal a rising
irritation.
Mrs. Summers coughed discreetly behind
a fat, red hand. ‘‘Well, folks says she
looks much older,”’ she amended. ‘‘She’s
that slim an’ faded lookin’ I said I thought
she was eatin’ her heart ous for Tom
Drake. Funny, ain’t it, Mis’ Jane, that
be paid ber so much attention afore he
went away, an’ now he’s back he won’t
look at her? Oh, well, a man is jest like
a big bumblebee buzzin’ around the flow-
ers: he finds ont the sweet clover for him-
self. Now, come over real soon an’ bring
your carpet rags along with yon.*’
Miss Jane watched her neighbor depart,
a vigorous wrath gathering active shape
within her. That her niece should be
made the comment of the villagers and
ber changed appearance criticized added
fuel to a slumbering fire.
Miss Jane entered the house and noise-
lessly stepped out to the kitchen, where
stood the red rose in all of its glorious
beauty. Looking down on it silently, her
thin hands working nervously together,
her weather-heaten face bent over it so that
its rich, spicy aroma could delight her nor-
trils. Every morning she performed this
silent devotion to the flower. Every night
before the same shrine she paid homage
before covering it from the chill of the
coming darkness. The velvety, crimson
leaves were as the soft, rosy cheek of an
endeared friend. The hardy branches had
become comforting arms against which she
often leaned her head in the early twilight,
when there was no one looking, longing
for the cool, soothing, moist touch of their
tender foliage.
More than all thie, it was a symbol to
her of the nephew she had loved with the
same unreasonable fervor. She bowed her
gray head over a barsting, satin petaled
rose and weakly cried. The taunt that she
should not forget the living in remember-
ing her heloved dead stung her to the
quick. Times had been bard with her
ever since Jasper was stricken down in his
manhood. With his wife, he had made
their home in the little cottage, exerting
bis energies to keep a roof for his kin on
exhausted foundations. Only the incessant
thrift of Miss Jane’s fingers had kept the
truth from her neighbors after he was
gone.
After enduring privations of the body,
she could not tolerate further goading in
in idle disparagement of herself or her kind.
She deposited the plant on the floor, and
fell on her knees, softly kissing it as if in
farewell ; then with trembling fingers she
wrapped papers securely around the bush,
drawing over this a stout gunny-sack
which disguised its outlines altogether.
Her much-worn, black cashmere dress was
taken out of a closet and warmed before
the stove before she put it on. She placed
ber shabby, black bonnet and old fashion-
ed dolman on the table so that Elviry
would pot notice that anything was miss-
ing.
& Elviry I" ‘she called up the stairs,
where she heard the tread of the girl as she
made the beds. ok AS. 4A BB
Elviry glided deprecatingly into the
room, her arms fall of gay, red and yellow
carpet rags; a needle in a long, black thread
dangled from ihe Nitto, I akfast shawl
around her shoulders. aunt scanned
her sharply, with a sinking heart. The
faded prettiness of her face was accentuat-
ed by the uncompromising smoothness of
the light brown hair brushed back from
her high forehead. An ugly, dark brown
calico dress tock away all of the remaining
freshness expected of youth.
“Take down your hair,” commanded
Miss Jane sternly, ‘‘an’ go get me your
comb!’
Elviry, acoustomed to submission, obey-
without any questioning save an astonish-
ed expression in her blue eyes.
‘Sit down!” Her aunt pushed her with
decision into a straight backed chair as she
returned, taking out the few bair pins thas
held in place the stiff, little knot at the
back of head, letting the silken mass fall
unconfined.
“La me, Elviry, what beautiful hair
ou’ve got—an’ hidin’ it so folks can’t see
6!
she commented alond. ‘‘You jest take
after your father—brother Luke’s whiskers
was the grandest sight I ever see, all
glintin’ with little, golden lights like the
fun shinin’ on a copper plate. An’ they
was wonderful growers, too. Cousin Joe
Stetson’s wife stuffed an elegant cushion
with them; an’ people didn’t know but it
was real swan’s down, it was that soft.
He had promised her all of the next cuttin’
but I guess the Lord thought it was sinnin’
for him to come up to the golden gates
with nothin’ on his face, bein’ a man, so
be was took jest before be had them cus
in. Cousin Myra was real disappointed
like, for she had embroidered the cushion
all ready with harebells.
“Now you jest let me fix your hair as I
see it ina Piciare the other day.’’ Miss
Jane twisted the shining mass into a thick,
graceful braid, pinning it at the nape of
the neck ; then she fluffed the front, roll-
ing it in her fingers 80 that it made a soft,
cloud-like frame for the girl's thin face.
She stepped back to survey her handi-
work. :
‘‘La me, Elviry, but it jest takes five
years off of your face ! Look!’ She held
the bit of mirror up to the girl’s face.
Elviry stared at the reflection, bardiy
believing its flattery. ‘‘You—you don’t
think it’s wicked, do you, Aunt Jane?”
she said in awe.”
‘‘It’s wicked to hide it as you’ve been
doin’!”’ her aunt declarea stoutly. ‘‘Now
change yonr dress quick, an’ I'll go an’
hitch the horse. Hurry now, Elviry !*’
Elviry looked in amazement at her;
there was a strange inconsistency about her
aunt’s actions and. recent speeches. ‘‘But
—you said last night that I must seed over
those onions for plantin’, an’ there’s these
rags to—’’
“I’ve changed my mind,’”’ her auns an-
nounced authoritatively, ‘We're goin’ to
town.’’ She whisked out to the little
barn where the horse was peacefully
munching fragrant wisps of hay, and in a
trice brought the light road wagon around
to the front. ‘‘I guess I ain’t done right
to the livin’ all this time,’’ she was saying
severely to herself; ‘‘bnt them gossips
tehan’t say it.”
The trip to town stood out in the gray
routine of Elviry’s life as if suffused with
a roseate vapor; such pleasures were infre-
quent, and she epjoyed every minute of the
jogging drive.
er aunt left her at a dilapidated look-
ing hotel which reeked of the orders of
fried meat and food, driving off with the
queer, brownish ‘object in the back that
had engrossed her constant attention dur-
ing the journey. When Miss Jane reap-
peared there was an air of suppressed ex-
citement about her and a little streak of
red in her cheeks. They ordered a cup of
muddy coffee and a dry-bread sandwich,
and then drove to the only store in the
place.
Elviry was amazed at the purchases her
aunt made, all of which were for her.
Shopping with Miss Jane, however, was a
Spartan duty; she had been overcome at
parsivg from her rose at the florist’s, and
er grief had moved the clerk to assure her
that if she was able to reclaim the plant
within a month it should be her privilege
to do so for the same sum at which she had
sold it. Her jubilance was checked by
the realization of the futility of her being
able to produce such a sum; ehe thought of
it during all the time that she selected a
dainty pink, rosebud ohallis for Elviry.
When they reached home, the empty
table in the window arrested her troubled
gaze.
Elviry’s eyes followed the directness of
hers. She gave a balf uttered exclamation
of surprise. ‘‘Why, Aunt Jane, where’s
Lin
‘‘Don’t you say a word!” Miss Jane
cried sharply, ‘‘I jest decided it was a 3in-
nin’ for me to make an idol out of a flower.
80 there!”’
There was a heaviness in Miss Jane's
heart during all the next day. She felt as
if some one had died. Work with her was
purely mechanical.
she set about at once to collect what ap-
parel she could that might be turned into
money; but what with repeated making
over and over year after year neither she
nor Elviry possessed any. Jasper’s gar-
ments still bung in their old place. She
assorted them silently, feeling as if it
brought her into a fleeting companionship
with the dead. A host of memories strug-
gled within ber at sight of his old, blue,
jumpers, mud stained and threadbare in
places. This was more Jasper than the
manifestly new store clothes in which he
had been married. :
Au inborn habit made her turn each
pocket inside out. It was because she did
not expect to find anything that she was
all the more surprised when in ong pocket
of the jumpers her fingers did encounter
something firm that rustled like paper,and
brought to light a letter. Her feeble eyes
discovered that it bore a date many months
ago, the day that Jasper had been stricken
in the flash of his manhood. It was ad-
dressed to Elviry, and in one corner
Drake’s name showed plainly as a precan-
tion against its being lost.
She yearned to read it; but honor was
religion with her, and tolerated no equivo-
cations or compromises. There was only
one thing to do: it must be delivered at
once to its rightfol owner, Drake. She had
a dim idea that perhaps the message he
then had penned might be totally foreign
to his present intentions. She donned her
dolman and set out across the fields with-
out a word to Elviry. Midway in ber
course she saw a man with his hand over
his eyes, reflectively measuring a probable
space for plowing. The rough gray of his
clothes she recognized at once; it was
Drake himself.
He turned quickly around, hearing the
fall of her foot behind him.
You'd ought to be ashamed yourself!”
To divert her mind |
Miss Jane was breathless; hut it was
She thrust the white, square missive to-
ward him before she bad gained his side.
‘I jest found it, Tom’’—she fell into her
‘old vernacular unconscionsly. ‘It was in
| Jasper's: jampers. 1 guess he got it at
the poss office the day be! ore he was took ;
‘an’ bein’ so dick an’ goin’ off so sudden-
like, heforgot it? = =
~~ Drake opened the letter, too astonished
to find his voice to answer, and read it
hastily.
{* “It it badn’t been for the General, I
never would have found it,’ Miss Jane
added solemnly. ‘‘It’s jest a message from
Jasper all the way through.”
The young fellow stared at her uncom-
prehending. ‘‘Does—Elviry know?’’ His
voice had a queer sound. >
“I ain’t sold ber yet,’’ Miss Jane said.
*‘I guess I'd better tear it up,’’ he langh-
ed forcedly. ‘‘It’s too old now.”
**Don’t!’’ Her baud fell on his, staying
his action. ‘'It will be just as new to El-
viry—what you say in there—’’ Her
sharp eyes never left his face. ‘‘Of course
—if you're feelin’s have changed to her
ad?
“I always will love Elviry,” he said
simply. ‘I loved her when I wrote this
letter the day after we quarreled, askin’
her to send me one word that she forgave
me. Ididn’6t want to go West unless I
knew I could come back to claim her as
mine. An’ when she never wrote, I
thought she didn’t care.”’ His voice broke
curiously. *‘I guess it’s writ up in heav-
en in the great, white book that I should
go on always a-lovin’ Elviry,’’ he said rev-
erentially. :
‘‘I guess you’d better say that to El-
viry,”’ advised Miss Jane. ‘‘It was the
General's fault you foond the letter. If it
hadn’t been for him it would never have
happened.”’
“The General?’ Drake repeated blank-
1
7 Miss Jane laughed ; but there was a pe-
culiar break in her mirth. ‘I sold him
yesterday,’’ she explained gravely. ‘‘He’s
the rose off of Jasper’s grave, an’ he was
full of buds. The greenhouse man gave
nae ten dollars for him—I jest bad to sell
him.’”” She stopped with a convulsive lit-
tle movement of her lips. ‘‘He—he said I
might buy him back in a month—if I
could—he can’t hold it any longer—an’ so
I was lookin’ over Jasper’s old clothes to
sell to Matlidy’s second banded husband
when he comes tourin’ through—an’ I
found your letter. It’s a letter from the
dead hisself.”’
Drake said nothing; he looked out across
the reddish brown, faded fields that were
beginning to quicken with the throb of
inner life. ‘‘Do—do you think Elviry
would see me—if I came over—to-mor-
row?’’ he asked buskily.
‘I do.”’ Miss Jane’s voice sounded as a
benediction.
Time passed slowly the morning after.
It was only by maintaining the strictest
guard over her tongue that Miss Jane suc-
ceeded in being able to keep her ~ecret from
ber niece; but as the hours went hy and
there was no eign of Drake, she hegan to
grow apprehensive and restless. Perha
he had cbanged his mipd ; the doubt kept
her nerves vibrant so that she started a
the sight of she least black object moving
along the road.
Early in the aféernoon as she took up her
carpet rags by Elviry’s faithful little bas-
ket, the click of the gate sounded.
“What's that?’ Miss Jane sat upright
on her/chair; with a‘quick glance at El-
viry. ¢
The girl glanced in the direction of the
window. ‘‘It’s just the wind, Aunt
1 Jane,” she replied, quietly, in blissful
ignorance of the excitement that threaten-
ed to mar the placidity of her life.
Miss Jane rose and went oat to the
kitchen on a pretext of getting a drink,
Far down the road an indistinct speck was
moving. She was afraid to watch it for
fear of being disappointed.
“Elviry,”” she called out abruptly.
‘You'd better look up that pattern Mis’
Sanderson’s cousin’s wife cut for yon two
years ago, an’ we’ll begin on your dress
to-night. You must wear it to the minis-
ter’s pound party next week. /
‘Ok, aunt, I don’t want to go!”’ Elviry
expostulated.
‘You've got to go! That’s what I got
that dress for,’’ Miss Jane said sternly. *‘I
jest won't have them gossips talkin’ any
more!”
Her heart gave a spasmodic leap as a step
fell-on she front stoop. She clung dizzily
to a chair as Elviry answered the knock at
the door.
The girl’s exclamation, half tearful, hall
joyous, cut her sharply. Miss Jane sat
down in the chair to keep from falling.
completely unnerved by Elviry’s emotion.
Drake’s nervous laugh filled in the si-
lence. ‘‘Where’s your aunt?’’ he asked,
before he had crossed the threshold.
Miss Jane walked unsteadily out of the
kitchen. There was a familiar, brownish
objeot held carefully in his arms. He de-
posited it safely and tenderly on the floor.
“I've brought the General home, Miss
Jane,’”’ he said awkwardly. ‘‘I thoughs,
seein’ as .he had sent the m
wouldn’t be polite if we didn’t have bim
here to help celebrate. I couldn’s give
you a ring—like I conld to—to—Elviry.”’
He grew red over the girl’s name, although
he spoke it boldly. ‘‘SoI got the General
for you—you don’t mind, do you?"
‘‘Mind?”” Miss Jane sank piously on
her knees, tearing off the brown wrap-
pings with ice-cold hands, frantically kiss-
ing each soft, green leaf and velvety. red
bud as they were released.
She buried her face deep in their spicy
fragrance in silent worship, unable to
speak. There was a feeling of suffocation
in her throat.
“It’s just a message from Jasper—all
the way through!”’ she quavered broken-
ly.—By Luellen Cass Teters.
Do It To-Day.
Ii you have a flower to give, give is to-
day. One throb or gladness is worth more
to the living heart than a wealth of costly
blooms laid, however tenderly, above the
dead one. '
If you have a kindly visit to make, make
it today lest another step in and lay his
quiet hand npon the longing heart and still
forever its fret and pain and power or glad
response. In the city of the dead, is ‘the
silence of the grave, hearts are never lone-
ly any more. They bave no heed of need.
If you have kisses to hestow, let the dear
living lips their sweetness know today,
If you’ve smiles to give, give them to-
day. Living eyes are often hungry.
: Though their gaze be seemingly so calm,
80 guiet, and mayhap so proud, the smile
may be a touch of heaven for them. If
they are closed in death, tomorrow your
fondest smile wonld matter naught. 4
It you have a helpful, hopeful, loving
word to say, say it today. It may keep
some hears from breaking, some soul from
falling. No word or cry can break the sea
to-morrow—if death whispered then—to
ears that hear today.
mote from excitement than from haste. |
e, it.
Book on Reptiles of the State is in Prep-
i aration.
Professor Surface Asks That Specimens Be Sent
Him From All Over the State.
- Hw
wih So be = yo 4
“State Economie Zoologist H. A. Surface
is preparing a book on reptiles: of Pennsyl-
vauia. - It will take months, possibly
years, to complete the work, bus its publi-
cation is sare. Professor Surface, however,
wishes aid from almost everyone in the
State who may be interested.
The book’ is to be a treatise upon the
babits of both reptiles and amphibia, two
closely allied divisions of the vertebrate
form of life. Reptiles include snakes,
turtles and lizards; ampbibia- include
frogs, toads and salamanders. :
To the non-students of -animals there is
little difference between a lizard and a
salamander, but Professor Surface can give
plenty of points about that. One main
difference is that lizards have scales and
salamanders have not. They want both
in the zoological department, however,
as well as other kinds of reptiles and
amphibia. :
Many specimens have already been re-
ceived and preserved. As fast as any are
gent in they are pus away in preservatives
and kept for study. Daring the Summer
when they are husv collecting specimens
employes of the office have little time for
analysis. That will come during the cold
weather. ;
Then the exterior and interior construc-
tion of the animals wiil be studied and the
data carefully tabulated and filed for use
in the forthcoming book. A copy of this
book will be seus to each person who
shows sufficient interest in the work to
send in any specimens, bus Professor Sur-
face has made a particular request that no
one write now for the book. It will not
be published for months, bat sending a
specimen will be sufficient to insure cne’s
pame being placed upon the mailing list
for use when the edition is struck off.
It does not matter if specimens are ‘du.
plicates, Professor Surface says he can-
not have too many and will be glad to re-
ceive and care for all that shall be sent.
In sending specimens notes shall be made
of the manner and locality in which they
are caughsand any of the habits or pecnl-
iarities which may have been observed. No
ove need fear handling any reptiles in
Pennsylvania except the rattlesnake and
the copperhead snake. Those are the only
two of any kind which are poisonous.
Other snakes, the lizards, thesalamanders,
ete., are all harmless.
Evangelist — Bully,
A Methodist minister of this city tells
the following story about the late Sam
Rozel, the great Virginia evangelist, who
in his day was oue of the best known pul-
pit orators in the South :
‘‘Sam Rozel wae a very big man and bad
a wide reputation for physical strength.
In his college days he came off the field of
combat, usnally a circumscribed and
secluded area of the campus, wearing the
laurel of victory on many occasions, and
PS | after he became a: preacher stories of his
physical powers were spread far and pear.
‘‘One day he went to a village to hold a
protracted meeting. The village black-
smith. who was'a very big man, and who
was recognized, especially among the tavern
habitues, as a pogilistic wonder, heard
about the coming of Rozel, and the vil-
lagers did not fail to tell him all they bad
beard about the size of the parson’s arm
and the length of his legs, and of the con-
vincing way he had of closing an argument
with his fists. s
“All this nettled the smith considerably,
so when Rozel reached the town he sought
him out and asked him to fight.
‘‘Rozel, of course, said he did not want
to fight ; but the smith kept on’ insisting.
and finally Rozel became angry and agreed
to gratify the fellow.
**They. fought. Rozel literally wiped
op the ground with the big man. When
he bad pounded him until the poor, van-
quished bully was gasping hard, Rozel
picked bim up and threw him over a
fence. "
‘‘The blacksmith had not said a word
since the affray began up to this point.
As he rolled over to the other side of the
fence, however, he called out: .
‘‘Say parson, kindly throw my horse
over, too, I’m going away.’
*‘But Rozel followed the man to his
home, and had him sitting on a front
bench at the meeting that same night sing-
ing louder than any one else.”’— Baltimore
A —————————————————————
Artificial Cotton.
Made at Milan From Cellulose of Fir Tree.
Thornwell Haynes, consul at Rouen,
writes of an artificial cotton now being
made at Milan from the cellulose of the fir
tree freed from bark and knots, The
fibres, alter being pulverized by a special
machine, are placed in a horizontal, brass,
lead-lined cylinder of some 3500 cubic feet
capacity and steamed for ten hours, after
which 2000 cubic feet of a bisulphate of
soda wash is added and the whole is heated
for thirty-six hours under a pressure of
three atmospheres. Then the wood, or
fibre, which has become very white, is
washed aud ground by a series of strong
metallic meshes, after which it is again
washed and given an electro-chemioal
bleaching by means of chloride of lime.
Passage between two powerful rollers then
dries the matter, producing a pure cellulose,
which when reheated in a tight metal boil-
er containing a mixture af chloride of zino
and hydrochloric and nitric acids, to which
isadded a little castor oil, casein, and
gelatin te give resistance to the fibre, gives
a very consistent paste. Threads are then
Produced by passing this paste through a |
ind of drawplate. These threads after
being passed over a gummed cloth, are
immersed in a weak solution of carbonate
of soda and passed between two slowly
turning drying cylinders. Finally, to give
‘the necessary solidity, the thread is treated
to an ammoniacal bath and rinsed in cold
water, after which the product is pliable
and works well.
In Bavaria experiments have recently
been made to produce cotton from pine
‘wood, and it is claimed that the trials have
been very successful.
——The ordinary ‘microscope reveals ob-
jects of the size of a thousandth of a milli-
meter, or a twenty-five thousandth of an
inch. But the improvements lately made
by Siedentopf and Zzigmendy have lower-
ed this limit very much. These inventors
concentrate on the field the direct rays of
the sup, and thus render visible particles
whose diameter is only one to five mil-
lionths of a millimeter.
-—=—80 you lost'your position as’ under-
taker’s assistant 2"? :
‘Yes. You see I used to be a conductor
on a street car, and. I.conldn’s get out of
the way of telling people to step lively,
please.”
Commonsense.
A man of original ideas will never he
lost in the crowd, a. a
Fill each hour well—live in the NOW
and learn contentment.
If a man bas faith ip*himself be has lis
tle to fear from the outside world. :
~ Every human being in the universe has
his special talent ; successful men are those
who have kept that talens, before the
world. v
Objections can be raised to every course
of action. Be governed not by the objec-
tions, but by the points in favor.
The only real failure is a failure to at-
tempt the accomplishment of that which
one would do. :
Take firm hold on life just where you
are. Many men fail from always reach-
ing out for the unattainable.
The eye of each individual marks his
own horizon. Likewise each man limits
his career by the boundary he himself
fixes.
The measure of a man’s character is his
power to resist the dragging back inflaence
of his environment.
Nothing worth doing is unimportant.
Give thought to every phase of an inter-
view which yon are about to have, or a
proposition you are about to make. Pon-
der well your words before yon speak them.
Do not be discouraged when you seem
to be accomplishing little. Look back over
the past ‘and you will find that when the
most important changes were taking place
in your life you did not realize it.
Remember that ‘‘every ship is a roman-
tic object, except that we sail in.”” From
being at close range we fail to see our own
life work in its true aspect. Get into
‘‘another ship” for awhile and view your
work at a distance; you will then see it at
its right valuation.
Don’t keep pulling the other way. Get
in harmony with the spirit of the concern
you are with and carry out its plans ac-
cording to established methods. When
you can improve on these methods, sug-
est a means to do so, but if your sugges-
tions are not appreciated, fall in line and
' help materialize the plans of others.
An erroneous idea prevails among some
people that the self made man is a success
and the college made man is a failure.
Many men fail—some of them are college
men and some are not. It all lies in the
man and his determination to win. This
determination leads him, if a college man,
$0 apply his learning ; if not a college man,
to acquire the necessary knowledge by
special study’ and application. : One thing
is certain, the unqualified man never wins.
—Common Sense. 8
e———————
Provisioning a Steamer.
Of more interest to ocean travelers is
the department over which the port stew-
ard presides. His task is to provision the
ship, and 1s kept working almost night and
day preparing for the hundreds of passen-
gers who will board the ship on her next
sailing day. As soon as the amount of
provisions needed for the next trip is esti-
mated the requisition sheet for the voyage
is made ous, and the port steward, with
his assistants, begins the marketing, and
the purchases run something like this :
Thirty thousand to 40,000 pounds of fresh
meat, 600 to 800 chickens and ducks,
4,000 to 6,000 pounds of ham aod bacon,
3,000 pounds of fresh fish, 2,000 quarts of
fresh milk and cream, 5,000 ponnds of
butter, 1,500 quarts of ice ‘creant, 150 to
‘200 barrels of flour, 25 sons of potatoes,
several tons. of sugar and other. things in
proportion. ¥, 58 Sa :
ot long ago the sea voyager, after de-
livering himself into the hands of the com-
pany, ate what food was offered him and
said nothing, but nowadays he is as fassidi-
ous at sea as he would be in his own home.
The result is that the port steward must
proportion the provisions so thas the pas-
sengers may get all they want of what they
wans, and this is perhaps the moss difficult
problem he has to meet. Then there is
another consideration. Certain provisions
perish and there is waste and a consequent.
loss. The companies, however, realize
that it is better to suffer thie than to make
a mistake in the other direction. Besides
the provisions for use during the voyage,
which will take from six to nine days,
there is a certain stock of non-perishable
foodstuffs, which may be called the *‘emer-
gency supply.” Thies is in case the liner
meets with ap accident and ie delayed in
ber passage. This, however, seldom hap-
pens, but if it should the passengers could
eat without discomfort for over a month.
The Companionship of Books.
A book is good company. It is fall of
conversation without loquacity. It comes
to our longing with full instruction, but
pursues us never. It is not offended at
our ahsent mindedness, nor jealous if we
turn to other pleasures—of leaf or dress or
mineral or even of books. It silently
eerves the soul without recompense—not
even for the hire of love. And, yet more
noble, it seems to pass from itself and to
enter the memory, and to hover in a sil-
very transformation there, until the out-
ward book is but a body, and its soul and
spirit are flown to you, and possess your
memory like a spirit. And while some
books, like steps, are left behind us by the
very help which they yield us, and serve
only our childhood or early life, some oth-
ere go with ue, in mate fidelity, to the end
of life—a recreation for fatigue, and in-
struction for our sober hours, and a solace
far our sickness or sorrow. Except the
great out doors, nothing that has so much
life of its own gives so much life to us.
Se———————
Curious Condensations,
An Italian engineer now residing at
Brussels had, it is said, invented an instru-
ment which he calls the telescriptographb,
and which will produce in print all conver-
satlons held over the telephone. If he has
really done this the doom of the typewrit-
er has been sealed. since one would then
have only to talk into a machine which
would grind ont the typewritten letters as
fast aa they were dictated.
England has for many years given prizes
for the destruction of venomous serpents
and dangerous wild beasts in India, but it
does not seem to diminish theannual num-
her of victims. In 1903 over twenty-three
thousand persons were killed by snake
bites, over a thousand by tigers and almost
a thousand by hears, leopards and panth-
ers, together with a total of over twenty-
five thousand victims. 3 :
Obsolescent Honeymoons,
The honeymoon, thas institution beloved
of all previous generations, is now more
bonored in the breach than in the ob-
servance. ‘Of course, I had to be married
in June becanse everybody is,”’ said a
recent bride, ‘‘bus it was a horrid nuisance,
losing a whole week of
the season.’’
—Ladies’ Field.
Useful Housekeeping Hints,
3 FE ae { i
An ice cream freezer of ordinary cape ity,
says the Chiengo Record-Herald, pil
practicable for use in preparing individual
recipes of ices and ereams. A haby ice
-eream freezer is to. be had which holds a
pint when frozen and which is very desir-
able, bus several substitutes may be men-
tioned. A five:pound lard pail, one-pound
baking powder can, silver-plated knife and
spoon complete one out-fit. A double
boiler and Dover egg-beater may he used
for another. Sabstitute, for the baking
powder can a jelly tumbler, if the mixture
to be frozen contains fruit acids, as the ac-
tion of the acid on the tio is liable to pro-
duce a poisonous compoand.
Ice and Salt. Ice and rock or coarse
salt are used for freezing ices and creams.
Salt has a great affinity for water, causing
the ice to melt rapidly, thus withdrawing
heat from the contents of the can, which
causes the mixture to fieeze. The prin-
ciple of latent heat is here demonstrated.
In one case the ice, a solid, is changed to a
liquid; in the other case the lignid wix-
ture is changed to a solid. -
To produce a smooth, fine-grained cream
use three parts ice to one part salt. Wrap
the ice in a piece of burlap or bag and crush
it fine with a wooden mallet or with the
flat of a hatchet. If less salt than the pro-
portions given is used the cream will take
longer to freeze with no better results ; if
more salt is employed the cream is coarser
and less smooth in texture.
For freezing water ices the proportions
should be one-half ice, one-half salt, ifa
granular consistency is desired, as is the
case in frappes or granites, not for water
ice. :
Manipulating a Baby Freezer. If a baby
ice cream freezer is used, after placing the
can in position and securing the dasher
and handle, pack the tub with ice and
salt, alternately, in the correct proportions,
placing a good layer of fine ice first and
using a #paon handle or stick to press the
packing duu. Torn crank slowly at first
thas the contents nearest the can may be
acted mpon by the salt and ice. After the
mixture is frozen to the consistency of
mush the crank ‘should be turned more
vigorously. Do not draw off the water
until the freezing is accomplished, unless
there is a possibility of the salt water get-
ting into the can.
With Pail and Can. When a pail is
used cover the hottom first with crushed
ice, put in baking powder can or fruit jar,
with cover sorewed on and surround with
ice and salt in correct proportions, adding
them alternately until the pail is two-
thirds full. Turn the can, jar or tumbler
with the band, and as soon as the mixture
begins to freeze scrape the frozen portion
from sides of receptacle and beat with a
spoon, so continuing until the entire mix-
‘ture is frozen. If the lid is securely bound
around the edge with a buttered strip of
cloth to keep the water from soaking into
the can the cream may he kept in the ice-
box for several hours.
Lemon Ice. One-guarter cupful of sugar,
one-balf cupful of boiling water, two table-
spoonfuls of lemon juice. Make a syrup
by hoiling sugar and water five minutes.
Cool,add lemon juice; strain and free, using
three parts finely crushed ice to one part
rock salt. Serve in frappe or champagne
glasses.
Orange Ice. One-quarter cupful of sugar,
one-half capful of boiling water, one-third
‘ouplul orange juice, one-half tablespoonfal
lemon juice. Make syrup by boiling sugar
and water five minutes. Cool, add fruit
juices, strain and freeze. To obtain orange
juice cut oranges in halves crosswise, re-
‘move pulp and juice, using a. spoon, then
strain through cheese cloth. A glass lemon
squeezer may be used if care is taken not to
break 'the peel. Take out all tough ‘por-
tions and remaining pulp from peel and
points tops, using sharp scissors. Fill cups
thus made with joe for serving.
Pineapple Ice, One-third cupful of chop-
ped fresh pineapple, one-quarter cupful of
cold water, one-quarter cupful sugar, juice
of half'a lemon or less. Bring to boil, set
aside until cold, strain through cheese
cloth and freeze.
Raspberry Ice. Three tablespoonfals of
sugar, one cupful of raspberries, one-third
cupful of water, one teaspoonful of lemon
juice. Sprinkle raspberries with sugar,
cover and les stand one hour; then mash
and squeeze through cheese cloth to ex-
press as much juice as possible. Add lemon
juice and freeze. Strawberry ice is made
in the same way as raspberry ice, the quan-
tity of sugar depending upon the acidity
of the fruit.
Vanilla Ice Cream. One-balf cupful of
thin cream or one-quarter cupful of heavy
cream and one-quarter cupful of milk, one
tablespoonfal of sugar, one-quarter tea-
spoonful of vanilla and a grain of salt.
Mix ingredients and freeze.
Caramel Ice Cream. One-third copful
of thin cream or one-sixth cupful of each
of heavy cream and milk, one and a-half
tablespoonfuls of granulated sugar, one
tablespoonful of boiling water, one-quarter
teaspoonful of vanilla, a grain of salt. Put
sugar in a small sancepan; place on range
and stir constantly until melted. Add
water and boil until mixture is reduced to
one tablespoonfaul. Add cream very slow-
ly, vanilla, salt, then freeze,
Coffee Ice Cream. One tablespoonful of
ground coffee, one-quarter cupful of milk,
one-quarter cupful of heavy cream, one
tahlespoonful of sugar, a grain of salt. Add
coffee to milk, cook over hot water five
minutes and strain. Add remaining in-
gredients, strain through cheese cloth and
freeze. ?
Chocolate Ice Cream. One-quarter square
of chocolate, one tahlespoonful of sugar,
one tablespoonful of boiling water, one-
third cupful of thin cream; a few grains of
salt and two drops of vanilla. Melt choco-
late in small saucepan placed over hot wa-
ter, add sugar and boiling water gradu-
ally, stirring constantly. Pour ou slowly
ihe cream, add salt and vanilla, then
reeze.
Wise Counsel.
Don’t he too anxious to get a hushand,”’
said the wise matron. ‘‘Don’t go around
hunting for one.”
‘Think I should just sit down and wait
for one, eh ?’’ replied the maiden.
“Yes, for you'll sit up and wait for one
often enough after you've got him.”
Queer.
* 'He—Why didn’t you answer my letter?
She—~Why, I never 1eceived it.
He---Yon didn’t?
She—No ; and, besides, you wrote it in
such a funny hand I couldn't make it out.
eS —————
We're Never Satisfied,
The sort of weather most folks like,
In this or any clime
Is what we do not happen to
Be having at the time.