y rr. 5 ® iA help loving him when you know how really Planting Corn in Georgia. Committee Wants Correct Names of Cen John Hcalsney Patton In Prison for Debt. Berra Yan Bellefonte, Pa., June 9, 1905. HII THE THREE AGES OF MAN. He swore that for true love he'd marry; - In a cottage he’d much rather tarry With love by his side, Than take for his bride A girl who had millions to carry. .He was twenty. Years passed; he was thirty and single, In society’s gay whirl he’d mingle; He had loved half a score, He was loving once more— A lass? No. Her coin’s golden jingle. He was thirty. A bachelor still, the old sinner! Met a maiden and tried hard to win her, Not because she was fair * Or had money to spare, But—because she could order a dinner. He was forty. ————————— A DIVIDED DUTY. BY LEIGH GORDON GILTON. In the Voque. His mother’s voice, eminently sweet and gentle, yet delicately distinct, drifted in to Dallas though the open windows of the library. He knew that neither of the two on the balcony sdspected his proximity, and he was equally aware that the pro- prieties demanded that he should apprise them of his presence or go away; but the conversation in progress held for him an interest too vital to admis of either; 80 he compromised with his conscience and stay- “I don’t mind confessing myself a ‘ma- noeuvring mamma,’ my dear,’’ Mrs. Keith was saying, ‘‘I tell you frankly, Constance, that when I asked you here it was with the hope that one of my boys might love you and that you might learn to care for him in return. Your dead mother was the dearest friend of my girlhood, and it has always been a fancy of mine that her daughter should marry one of my sons. I didn’t quite count upon Roger. He’s too much absorbed in his books to be more than vaguely aware of the existence of any woman; Dallas is, as usual, engrossed with | some butterfly fanoy—the tender passion is chronic with him; so it was really Cathcarton on whom I builg my hopes. It seems I builded even better than I knew where he is concerned, bus forcing Fate's hand is always rather a dangerous proceed- ing and I begin to fear thas in planning for his happiness I may have subjected him to possible pain. I do not pretend, Constance, that you are the only woman he has cared for—he’s had scores of trifling affairs, but you have inspired him with the firsts real passion, and unless you can return his feelings in some degree it will go very hard with him. 9 Dallas leaned forward eagerly, bus the girl’s answer was inaudible. “I think I must confess,” Mis. Keith went on after a moment, ‘‘that Cathcart is my favorite son. He was always less strong than the others and more like the husband I adore. Like my husband, $00, he seems doomed to an early death. He has in- herited his father’s weak langs, and it is only a question of time—a few years at best——"’ the sweet voice faltered. *‘Ah,”” the girl breathed, “I did not know—I did not dream—-’ ‘‘It is trae, Constance,’’ said the mother sadly. ‘‘As with his father, I must sit helplessly by and watch him die by de- grees. You will understand now how doubly dear he isto me, how I would do anything, make any sacrifice to secure for him the happiness which must be brief at best. This is why I have put aside delicacy and reserve and venture to speak to yon. Cathoart knows the truth. We tried to keep it from him, but be has known almost from the first and he does not complain. Only Le craves, before he goes, the little meed of happiness which he feels is eve man’s done. He said to me yesterday: ‘I don’t mind dying, Mother, only I have never lived. If I might have my heart’s desire I could diecontent. If I could feel that I had loved and been loved, that I had once really lived, it wouldn’t beso hard.’ You see what it means to him, Constance, and I'm sure you will forgive my apparent indelicacy and answer me freely and frank- ly when I ask you if yon think you could learn to care for him or if thereis some one else.”’ There was a moment's silence. The listener held his breath to hear the girl’s answer. ‘Dear Mrs. Keith,’ she said simply, ‘I shall answer you as frankly as I would bave answered my own dear mother. There is—or was—some one else. When 1 was scarcely more than a child I met—and cared for—a man many years my senior, one of my brother’s friends. He has since achieved distinction, he was even then be- ginning to be famous. He wae the em- bodiment of my ideals and I deified rather than loved him. I never hoped or fancied that he might care for me, bus he did. He went away because he found he was be- ginning to care when he was bound in honor to another. He told me that, though hie had no right, be loved me, should al- ways love me, and that if ever he should be free he would come back to me. He did not ask if I cared—but I think he knew. That was eight years ago, Mrs. Keith, and I have never seen him singe, but always his image has stood between me and any thought of love or marriage, antil —.7? ““Until?”’ Mrs. Keith echoed breathless- ly, Then there is someone now?’’ The girl sighed. ‘*No,”” she answered, ‘‘There is no one —nothing—in my life—only ideals and dreams.” ‘My dear,’”” Mrs. Keith said quickly, ‘Few women marry the men of their ideals. Rather they idealize the men they marry. We are so prone to deify the com- monest of clay. We begin it as children when we lavish devotion on a rag doll, and we keep it up through life. The aver- age woman can make a hero ous of the least promising materials. Love is largely a thing within ourselves, and it is capable of transforming the moss commonplace object into an idol. I may be prejudiced, Coustance, bat Cathcart seems to me not unattractive. He is handsome, certainly ; you must admit the charm of bis manner, the sweetness and fineness of his nature— forgive the babbling of a doting mother, dear! I've confessed, you know, that Cath- cart is my idol.” There was a little silence, then the girl eaid slowly: *‘I am fond of Catheart. I care for him very, very much, bus I'm afraid not— quite —in that way. I've never thonght of bim so. My feeling for him is more shas which one might give a dear friend —’ The listener caught his breath sharply. “That will come in time, believe me,”’ the mother interposed eagerly. ‘“You can’t fine and dear he is! Ah, Idon’s want to urge you unduly, Constance, but if you only coald —?? ‘‘Mrs. Keith,”” Constance answered, steadily, ‘‘if you are sure it is best, I—it shall be as you wish. My life means very little to me as it is. I have only my brother, and though we love each devoted- ly, be has his wile, kis children, his out- sideinterests, and I am merely an inoi- dent, not a pecessary to his happiness. I should like to feel that my existence was not wholly wasted, that someone was the better for my having lived. If you feel I can make Cathcart bappy, if you think I can make the inevitable suffering before him less hard, I am willing to try.” The man beside the window set his teeth hard. He half rose, then sank back into his place. ‘‘Ah, my dear, my dear!” he heard his mother say with a tremor in her voice, “I cannot thank you enough! Bat you will not let Cathcart know I have spoken. You won't let him feel that he is taken on snf- ferance.”’ ‘Dear Mrs. Keith,’’ the girl cried, ear- nestly, ‘‘I mean to try with all my heart to love your son; but whether I succeed or fail, it shall make no difference. I shall try to make him happy.” A moment later Dallas Keith followed his mother into her own room, closed the door and turned to confront her with set face, and eyes whioh held an expression she had never seen in them before. ‘Mother,’ he began, and the tenseness of his tone was eloquent of his struggle for control. “I overheard what you were say- ing to Miss Fleming just now. I deliber- ately listened, indeed, because the matter concerns me more nearly than you imagine. Ilove her, mother. You needn’t smile! It isn’t a butterfly fancy this time. It’s a deep, absorbing passion which has taken hold upon me. I didn’t understand at first. Indeed, I bored her with my fancied fond- ness for the little Maize girl. You don’s know how I love her, Mother. And of late I’ve fancied that she was beginning to care for me. I didn’t dream Cathoart loved her, and I only waited to speak until I should be sure of her. And now—I don’t think you quite realize what yon’ve asked of her —what it all means—what a fearful saori- fice you have called on her to make. It’s cruel, monstrous, inhuman. I beg your pardon, mother. It means #0 much to me thas I forget myself.’’ Mrs. Keith stood for a moment survey- ing her son in something nearly approach- ing dismay, though she managed skilfully to conceal the emotion. She was a little creature, fine and fragile. The sweet face, framed with waves of soft gray hair, was quite unfurrowed, and her figure was as trim and slender as that of a girl. Her three sons adored her, and, though she did it with a charming grace, she ruled them all. Never before bad one of them ventured to question her judgment. ‘My son,’’ she said quietly, ‘“‘since you listened to what I.eaid to Constance, you probably heard me speak of your brother’s misforbune. I had not told yon before. Cathcart did not wish you to be saddened with the knowledge; but his lungs are seri- ously affected, and Dr. Holmes gives him a year—two years at most. He is dying, Dallas, just as your father died, and I can only stand and look on.’* She threw out her hands in a little des- perate gesture, but quickly controlled her- self and went on: “It has seemed to me thas for the little while he is spared to us,nothing that you— thatany of us—ocaun do for him would he too much. Sarely, dear, if Constance is will- ing to sacrifice her life, herself, to Catheart, you, his brother, should have the strength to give up for him what is at best only a hope.” The words went home. Dallas laid his arms on the tall mantel shelf, and bent his face down upon them. His mother watoh- ed him quietly, without fear of the out- come. She knew her son for the thorough- bred be was, and she was sure he would not fail her. There was a long silence in the room. Then the boy lifted to hers a face out of which the boyish look had gone, leaving it haggard. “Mother,” he said quietly, ‘‘you’re right. It is Cathcart we must consider. I'll stand aside. Only—I'm not brave enough to stay. You must let me £0 away till after.” He laid his head down upon his arme again, and the mother stole away and left him so. Continued next week A Very Pretty Tale. The wearing of orange blossoms a wed- dings is accounted for in various ways. Among other stories, says she Chicago Chronicle, is the following popular legend from Spain: An African king presented a Spanish king with a magnificent orange tree, whose creamy, waxy blossoms and wonderful fragrance excited she admiration of the whole cours. Many begged in vain for a branch of the plant and a desire to introduce go great a ouriosity to his na- tive land. He used every possible means to accomplish his purpose, bus, all his ef- forts coming so naught he gave up in despair. The fair daughter of the court gardener was loved by a young artisan, bus she lacked the dowry which the family con- sidered necessary toa bride. One day, chancing to break off a spray of orange blossoms, the gardener thoughtlessly gave it to his daughter. Seeing the coveted prize in the girl’s hair the wily ambassa- dor offered her a sum sufficient for the dowry, provided she gave him a branch and said nothing abous is. Her marriage was soon celebrated, and on her way so the altar, in grateful remembrance of the source of all her happiness, she secretly broke off another bit of the lucky tree to adorn her hair. ’ Whether the poor court gardener lost his bead in consequence of his daughter’s treachery the legend does not relate, but many lands now know the wonderful tree, and ever since that wedding day orange blossoms bas been considered a fitting adornment for a bride. “Liquid Capital,” Deposit banks are little more than olear- ing-houses; and the laws permit their own- ers to pay nine-tenthe of their debts with money literally made by themselves—ont of nothing—which they coolly call *1i- quid capital,” or “bank credit,” although it is neither capital nor credit. The real pature and far-reaching effects of shis modern practice are not olearly under stood by one in twenty even ofthe bank- ers themselves—and none of them dares discuss it publicly. The most of those that do not fully understand it feel “that there is something wrong ahout it; and Hives hat do tnderssod it ksow that, people once n to study ‘‘the eys- tem,’’ they will demand radical changes in it—or its entire abolition.—From Tom Watson's Magazine. On such a day, such a cloudless, radiant, flower-sweetened day, the horseman slack- ens the rein as he rides through lanes and Quiet flelds; and he dares todream that the children of God once loved each other. On such a day one may dream that the time might come when they would do so again. Rein in and stop, here on this high hill Look north, look east where the san rises, look south, look west where the sun sets— on all sides the scene is the same. In every field the steady plowman and the children dropping corn. Close the eye a moment and look at the picture fancy paints. Every field in Geor- gia is there, every field in the South is there. And in each the figures are the same—the steady mule and the ‘steady man, and the pattering feet of the children dropping corn. : In these furrows lie the food of she re- ublic; on these fields depend life and Bealth and happiness. Halt those children—and see how the cheek of the world wonld blanch at thought of famine! Paralyze that plowman—and see how national bankraptoy would shatter every city in the Union. Dropping corn! A simple thing, you say. And yet, as those white seeds rattle down to the sod and hide away for a sea- son, it needs no- pecnliar strength of fan- ‘| oy to see a Jacob’s ladder crowded with ascending blessings. Scornfully the railroad king would glance at these small teams in each small field; yet check those corn droppers and his cars would rot on the road and rust would devour the engines in the roundhouse. The banker would ride through those fields thinking only of his hoarded millions, nor would he ever star- tle himself with the thought that his mil- lions would melt away in mist were those pin corn. The bondholder, proud in all the security of the untaxed receiver of other people’s taxes, would see in. these fields merely the industry from which he gathers tribute; it would never dawn on his mind that without the opening of those furrows and the hurrying army of children dropping corn bis bond wouldn’s be worth the paper it is written on. Yet it is literally so. Feed the world, and it can live, work, produce and march on. Starve it, and what becomes of railroads, banks, mills, mines, notes, mortgages and bonds? How much of your gold can yon eat? How many. of your diamonds will an- swer the need of a loaf ? But enough. It is time to ride down the hill. The tinkle of the cow-bell follows the sinking san-—both on the way home. So with many an unspoken thought I ride homeward, thinking of those who plant the corn. : And bard indeed would be the heart that, knowing what these people do and bear and suffer, yet would not fashion this prayer to the favored of the republic: *‘O rulers, lawmakers, soldiers, judges, bank- ers, merchants, editors, lawyers, doctors, preachers, bondholders! Be not so unmindful of the toil and misery of these who feed you I’? —Tom Watson in his magazine. A Valuable Publication. The Passenger Department of the Penn- sylvania Railroad Company has published the 1905 edition of the Summer Excarsion Route Book. This work is designed to provide the public with descriptive notes of the principal Summer resorts of the United States, with the best routes for reach- ing them, and she rates of fare. It con- tains all the principal seashore and moun- tain resorts in New England, the Middle, Southern, and Western States, and in Canada, and over seventeen hundred dif- ferent routes or combinations of routes. The book has been compiled with the greatest care, and altogether is the most complete and comprehensive handbook of Summer travel ever offered to the public. The cover is handsome and striking, printed in colors, and the book contains several maps, presenting the exact routes over which tickets are sold. The book is profusely illustrated with fine half-tone cuts of scenery at the various resorts and along the lines of the Pennsylvania Rail- road, This very interesting book may be pro- cured at any Pennsylvania Railroad ticket office at the nominal price of ten cents, or upon application to Geo. W. Boyd, General | Passenger Agent, Broad St. Station, Phil- adelphia, Pa., by mail for twenty cents. Do Vacations Pay. Russell Sage is out flat-footed against vacations; bus everybody laughs, because be is generally regarded as an awful exam- ple of thrifs and industry gone mad. Still, are there not many young men who pro- fess serious intentions in the matter of sno- cess and not mere flirtation who might profitably ask themselves, Can I’ afford to take a vacation? To the young man whose thoughts are on vacation all the year round this is of no importance; but to the young man whose work is his main, his paramount interest, a wo weeks’ break of the continnity may be a hurtful set-back. The exciteful arises chiefly from the delusion that impairs the health. The truth ie, of course, that work affeots the health only of him who spends most of his energy in some form of self- indulgence; and if it weren’s for the health- ful regularity of work he would break down altogether. A great many very wise and long-lived men have taken vacations in order that they might be free to work harder than ever.—Saturday Evening Post. ——Let a man learn that everything in nature goes by law, and not by luck, and that what he sows he reaps.— Emerson. ——Grace—Weren’t you very nervous while Jack was proposing ? Phoebe—I should say so ! I was so afraid he would be interrupted. ——He—Why do you think judge of human nature ? ~ She— use you have such a good opinion of yourself.” Iam a poor ——Money can buy many things, but there is a combination that it can nos pur- obase: A frolicsome dog at the gate, a laughing baby at the window and a smil- ing wife at the door. ——The greatess failure in life is the man who spends so much time wishing he could accomplish big reforms that he has no ime in which to assist in minor reforms. ——— ——Father—You have debts amounting $0 $20,000, eh? Well, I'll have so look into things before I give my consent. Suitor—But, my dear sir, the longer you wait the more debts there will be to pay. —Flegend Blatter. tiny hands never more to be found drop-. tre County Sodiers. In order to secure absolute acouracy in the names aod spelling thereof on our sol- diers’ monameut, we will publish from time to time the lists of certain companies 80 as to enable those who are interested to suggest changes in initials or spelling, and also to soggest the names of any persons This is the last opportunity which will be given to our people and to the survivors or friends of deceased soldiers who served from Centre couuty to have these names ocrrecs- ed. The Committee, therefore, appeals very earnestly to all who are interested in the subject to carefully scan all the names to ascertain. : 1st, whether any bave been omitted ; and ‘contained in the rolls are properly spelled. It is also very importaut that the names of soldiers who enlisted in organizations outside of the county or State should he secured, in order that they may find their place among the nation’s defenders upon the monument. This is perhaps the most important thing which the Committee has in charge, the organizations from our own county heing already well known. It, therefore, any person, in or ous of the coun- ty, bas knowledge of a citizen of Centre county who enlisted in organizations out- side of the county and State, it is especially mportant that their names should be as- certained, so that they may find a place among those who enlisted as home. Any communication in regard to these names addressed to Gen. John I. Curtin or William H. Musser, Bellefonte, will re- eive prompt attention. 93RD REGIMENT. Company “EY J. B. Shearer Captain, Edward H Rogers « W. W. Rogers, Ist Lieut. Henry Fishel Corp. Marion Tw Robert Tate wr Spring uP Chas. H. Robb 4 alker John Buckheimer Private " se Philip Banks 4 se ae Rob’t R. Campbell 56 ‘ 18 James Cortnor a fe ae David Felamalee ’" Marion Francis Gault a Spring « Henry Irvin “ alker Oliver Irvin . i s¢ illeam Osburn £6 Marion ¢ B, B. Snyder of Walker « Abram Snyder ‘. “ 1 Theodore Snyder ve £8 46 Joseph Shelby ,’" " 5 John Smith e ‘8 tw John Tate % Spring « Lemuel Warner oe alker « “ Ll * Thomas P, Young a 110TH REGIMENT. Rev. John R. Kooken Capt. Co. C David Copeland 1st Lieut Co. A Martin W, Lego Sergt. William H. Adams Co, D. M. Albert “im Alexander Amey “ K Worth * John Bennett wooso Taylor W. D. Brown "os Bellefonte Jacob Beahl “ E Taylor ¢ Emanuel Beahl $e 4 a” "ey Wm. E. Crombie « « Worth Panels) Prow) eu oe . James Dixon “a... Taylor % Thos. Daugherty « % * Henry Faust 6 «s .“ a John Fink .“ ““ “ 13 John A. Fink "iu .“" “ Michael Fink 9" 1" ." David Henderson ¢« « nd 1" Levi T. Jones 49.48 14 " Thomas Lego “ou " fo John Mark ey 66. o“ 6 Yilliam Mayes “u ow Suce ose aylor John Nearhoff 40 Vid uP Benj. Newman 9 “ s John Newman ik bd a" a Richard Newman « « “ ie Join A Syerman eeu Rush + erry ttler “ou. Taylor * John a illghe ow James Kreps 6“ 6“ 6“ 6“ A. Stonebraker 5" a hid 3 Porter Woomer ¢ « 4 . 125TH REGT, MISCELLANEOUS NAMES, William Miller, Corp. Thomas McGill Taylor Twp. George ¥aughan y vo Henry Vaug han “ ‘ . Henry H. Ccok, Co. K, Bellefonte 186TH, 9 MO. REGT. MISCELLANEOUS NAMES, William P. Dale, 1st Lieut. Co. I. J no. Morgan, 2nd Lieut. Co. C,Rush Twp Edward Dowling, Corp. Ferguson *¢ Benjamin Morgan, * Co, Hale Ammerman ' Co. C. Rush Geo. Cornelius “ I. Ferguson * Joshua Cornelius 3" ray “ Benjamin Crain $0 Rush ¢“ Shere Denney . Dinges, . Bellefonte JOTCIn Dinges “ ** Ferguson Twp. Henry Dangherty ru hy . {ssae Dos 5 h 6 ." “ euben Eme ‘“¢ Ferguson * William H. Fo "a ard John kb Haines af " ohn Anderson “C Rush Tw William Kennedy “¢ Ferguson “Pl Albert Kinsloe eo Rush John Kinch “I Fergusen Henry 8. Laid £6, 08 xe ae David L. Moore Sete Patton “ Jobers jb Reedar oo ¥ Howard erry C. Randa ‘ Ferguson Tw William Russell ee Er up Geo. W, Sims idhad 14 * LI “ “ CIR} LL i“ “6 a“ “" Henry Stiver William E. Tate John H. Thompson Hardman Thompson Patton Frederick Weston ‘“¢ Ferguson * David Wagner hc erty * 137TH REGIMENT, MISCELLANEOUS NAMES, George Fehl Corp. Miles Green Brewer “ “ George Degan " . John Delong i “ Benjamin faust “* °* William Fler Ror | m Fulger Walker John G, Ker 6 id Jacob Righter Miles Henry Kling Marion « Thomas Reed Howard ANDERSON TROOP, 15TH CAV, James B, Curtin, 1st Lieut. Co. i 2 MNignael A Musser, Sergt. promoted to nd. Lieut. Co. K, wets M, Repuars, private, promoted to ut. Co. H. Joseph D. Thomas, id oe 2nd Lieut. Co. A. Harvey S. Lingle, y“ ” id 1st Lieut. Co. G. Francis Baker § Thomas Carleton se Robert Gordon “ Yilliam E Irvin 3 yeurgus Lingle David McKinney " Solomon Herman “ Lemuel Holt “ Samuel Huston “ James H. Huston o James B. Holter " Samuel Miller "” A. N. Parker “ Samuel Showers “ ¥ fustus Schnell se William Thurson $e George Ulrich i William Wagner 4 George Westmore .“ Charles F. Wilson a J. Calvin Wilson 9; William J. Thompson * John 8, Thompson $ 8TH cAv. Frank Bowers Bellefonte Samuel Bowers “ Jacob Bowers " James Boyle “ 9TH CAV, Joseph Miller Co. I. Walker Twp Isaac Myton yo. Bellefonte Porter Shannon * Huston Twp 12TH CAV, Alfred Biddle Alexander McDowell Huston Twp who may have beeu omitted from the rolls. 2nd, whether the names of those already | Benner Lraory. Taylor Twp ) fof 5 a“ . John Peters John Stine Francis M., Etters Henry Clay Etters "noon John Shuman Etters id Ellis W. Etters foam 18TH Cav. Isaac Miller Bellefonte 18TH cav. Frank M. Huston Lieut. Col. R. C. Allen Ist Lieut Co. M. John Noll Q. M. Sergt “A John Callahan F. 8, Crombie Worth Twp Jessie Stuart Bellefonte George Rogers “ Alfred Kinsloe 218T CAV. Emanuel Noll Co. C. 22ND CAV. John G. Love 1st Sergt Co. A. MISCELLANEOUS NAMES IN MISCELLANEOUS REGIMENT, Jno. H. Graham 18th Regt. Co. K Rush Jere. Ketler 12th ‘* « PF Haines Harvey Stee! 18th “ « « Patton Henry Deitrich 107th “ *¢ « Marion Henry P. Funk 145th Ferguson Jacob Fillmer 150th © Patton A. Harshberger 127th Walker Luther Neff 115th *¢ “« 1 Sol. Pulmer 109th Potter Thomas Redd 7th " Jas, C. Miller 5th 5 16 William Minas 5th # od Tomson Bilger 5th se ‘Wm. Beemer 5th ’e .e James Reed 5th 3 " Nathan Tubbs 1st Bucktails © Dav. Williams 42nd Regt Simon Sellers 104th ae R. E. Sellers 107th * se G. Rumberger 5th bd J.C. Sankey 6ist *¢ § T. Singleton 42nd Jere, Sheffer 38th * ot Jacob Sizer 46th © Pat. Shannon 10th Joseph Shook 1st Reserves ‘¢ C. Smith 149th Regt Daniel Smith i se F. Smith a Josias Snook 7th Cav. T. Snyder 1st Regt. H. Spangler 1lth Hez, Wantz ge James Smith Frank Worth Benj. Aston 143rd * Wm. Neiman ¢ « W.W.Hampton * $e oa Geo. Funk ge . Wm, Beightol ¢ ¢ Thos. Bathurst * « o" Ezra Smith te.“ HH QO be Qo Miles Liberty Nearly Every Human Quality Is Un- like In the Sexes. “A man is a man down to his thumbs, and a. woman is a woman down to her little toes,” writes Dr, Havelock Ellis in his book “Men ana Women.” There is hardly a measur- able quality of any sort which is not unlike in the two sexes. Women even button their garments on the other side from that chosen by men and choose Sunday instead of Monday as their favorite day for making way with themselves. So far as laboratory tests go Dr. Ellis says that women are unquestionably superior in general tactile sensibility and probably su- perfor in the discrimination of tastes, with no advantage either way in the case of the other senses. Women have better memories, read more rapidly, bear pain better, recover better from wounds ard serious illness, are less changed by old age and live longer, Furthermore, according to the same authority, women have relatively larger brains, especially in the frontal region. It has long been said that women are the more like children, but Dr. Ellis says that men are the more like apes. Women, in short, are more civilized than men, and civilization it- self is but the process of making the world ladylike. In fact, the only thing left in which man is superior is mus- cle. Men are two, three and even four times stronger than women, and the occasional exceptional woman hardly reaches the level of the average man, Even between the ages of eleven and fifteen, heavier, boys still retain their single advantage in strength. Men, too, if slower of mind and quicker of body, have greater lung capacity and more blood corpuscles and exhale nearly twice as much carbon’ dioxide. But men are less able to endure confine- ment and bad air. This physical su- periority man shares with the males of all the higher animals. Few Wild Creatures’ Can Compete With the Fox In Craftiness. Those familiar with the “Fables of Zgop” will remember the reputation which reynard bears among the rest of the animals. It is questionable whether any wild creature can com- pete with the fox in craftiness. To look at him generally, even in his or- dinary habits, he exhibits an amount of cleverness which astonishes one. Should a fox catch a hedgehog, whose spines effectually protect him from most of his enemies, he does not waste time, as a fox terrier will do, in en- deavoring to worry his prey. He mere- ly rolls him to the nearest water, knowing that a drop or two will cause the animal to relax his hold. It is a rare thing to catch one in a trap laid at the door of his “earth” even. If he is inside when the trap is set he waits until some other animal springs it and then emerges to eat the | victim and the bait. Only when driven by the terrible pangs of hunger will he tempt fate in his own person. Most animals gorge themselves when they are fortunate enough to come across a superabundance of food. Not so with reynard. Should he find a poultry yard well stocked and ill protected he fills his larder first. Nor does he, as the proverb says, “put all his eggs in one basket.” He puts one fowl in a hedge, hides another in a bush, places a third in a hole in a tree, rapidly digs a cavity for a fourth and covers it up again, remembering in each case where his stores are concealed. And when his supplies are sufficient in his own estimation he takes a fine fat chicken or duck to his ‘“‘earth” for present en- Joyment.—London Field. : A Straight Tip. “Say,” growled the first hobo, “why didn’t yer go ter dat big house an’ git a hand out?” “Why, I started ter,” replied the oth- er, “but a minister lookin’ guy gimme a tip not ter. He sez: ‘Turn from yer present path. Ye're goin’ ter de dogs.’ ” —Philadelpbia Pre=- He who loses hope may then part with anything.—Congreve. when girls are taller and: The way the Law is made to Fit the Case in E nqland. It is commonly supposed that in these days there #3 no impssonment for debt in England, but the sSupposi- tion is wrong, both in substance and in fact. True, the term “imprisonment for debt” is done away with, perhaps be- cause the debtor does not pay his debt by going to prison, yet to prison he goes for it all the same, although in the eyes and in the phraseology of the Iw he goes there for “contempt of court,” whereas in 90 per cent of such cases the poor defaulter suffers his seven, fourteen or twenty-eight days “close confinement” solely because of his inability to pay the monthly sum ordered by the judge or the magis- trate. Nor, as already said, does the incar- ceration pay what is owing. For if the creditor chooses to do so he can have the debtor committed again immedi- ately after one term has been served and so on as long as the debtor lives, because the judgment goes on forever unless the amount of it be paid. But a second commitment on the same judgment is very rare. At the jail in a certain eastern coun- ty, where the writer of this article spent fourteen days, he was not re- ceived quite as a felon would be, but decidedly not as a nonlawbreaker should be received and treated. The time of arrival was 2 p. m. He had no dinner, so after his pock- ets had been emptied and the articles tabulated he was given six ounces of brown bread and four ounces of “Har- riet Lane”—i. e., tinned Australian mutton. He was then put into a ‘receiving cell,” eight feet by four feet six inches, with a concrete floor six feet below the level of the earth and decidedly damp, as was proved by the wet salt kept there for the prisoner's use. Two hours later he was removed to another receiving cell, this time with a wooden floor, twelve feet long and six feet wide. At 6 o'clock there came his supper, a pint of weak oatmeal gruel and eight ounces of the ubiquitous brown bread—the staple article of diet and the best. His bed was a two inch thick mat- tress of cocoanut fiber laid on three boards supported on crosspieces about three inches from the floor. The bedclothes were ample, but the pillow and bed boards were of a decid- edly hard nature. At a quarter to 8 a loud bell rang to go to bed, and at 8 o'clock the gas (in a small hole in the wall and shut out of the cell by a piece of thick cor- rugated glass) was turned out. All debtors get this treatment. On the following morning at 7:30 there came breakfast—a pint of weak tea and eight ounces of the brown bread. Then the doctor called. “Are you all right?” “Yes, thank you.” And the door banged like a clap of thunder, Then came the chaplain, a clergy- man from outside, rather old, much crabbed and certainly unfit for his post. He snapped like a terrier with tooth- ache, yet there was a growl in his snap. “Umph! What are you here for?” “Debt.” “Debt! Umph! Why don’t you be honest and pay your debts?’ And the door banged louder than before. Final- ly came the governor on his daily round of inspection. : A day’s routine was simply this: Up at the ring of a bell at 5:45, dress in the dark; then came lights, beds and bedding were put away, cells and cor- ridor swept and dusted and cell utensils cleaned; at 7:30 breakfast, each pris- oner being then locked in his cell till 8:30, at which time all were mustered and marched to chapel. Then from chapel to cells again, to be locked in until the governor made his smart pace round of inspection, say- ing as he sped past each cell door, “Any complaints?’ but one had to be there a week before the two words be- came clear enough to be understood. When he had gone all the debtors were put into a room to pick cocoanut fiber. Then came an hour's exercise in a large yard, after that dinner and another locking in till 1:30 p. m., fol- lowed by another hour's exercise and more fiber picking up to 5:30, At 5:35 there was tea, when each man was again locked in till 6 o’clock next morn- ‘ing. The debtors were allowed to speak to each other while at work and at ex- ercise; they wore their own clothes if they wished to; there was no stipu- lated amount of work to be done, and here ended the only practical differ- ences between them and the lawbreak- ers in the other part of the prison.— 'Pearson’s Weekly. Some English Words. Why is one who bets a “better,” while a man who estimates is an “esti- jmator,” and what is it that causes so many words like these to differ in the spelling of their last syllables? A mmarian explains that the differ- ce is due to the fact that the English language comes from two great sources, some words being Germanic and others Latin, For the Germanic roots add “er” in “worker,” while the Latin roots add ‘“‘or” in “factor.” There is the Ger- ‘manic “speaker” and the Latin “ora- or.” And no one would dream of writ- ing either of a “makor” or of a “cre- later.” The things we want most in this world are always those beyond our ch. If we had them we wouldn't be ‘a bit happier. Cause For Sympathy. Mabel—Yes, I'm sorry for poor, dear Helen; that horrid George sald she must either give him up or her lovely pug. Mary—And she had to give up the dog? Mabel—No; she gave up George, 8nd the pug died next day.