—————————————————————————————————————.. A ——— Democrat acm ES aaa Bellefonte, Pa., November 23, 1906. ————————————————————— THE CHRISTIAN LIFE. Tue Hone THANKSGIVING, O men, grown sick with toll and care, Leave for a while the crowded mart; O women, sinking with despair, Weary of [imband faint at heart, Forget your years today, and come As children back to childhood’s home. Foliow again the winding rills, / Go to the places where you went When climbing up the summer hills, In their green laps you sat content, And softly leaned yeur head to rest On nature's calm and peacefal breast. Walk through tho sere and fading wood, So slightly trodden by your feet When all you know of life was good, And all your dreams of life was sweet, And ever fondly looking back O'er youthful love's enchanted track. Taste the ripe fruits from the orchard boughs; Drink from the mossy well once more; Breathe fragrance from the crowded mows, With fresh, sweet clover running o'er, And count the treasures at your feet, Of silver rye and golden wheat, Go sit beside the hearth again Whose circle once was glad and gay; And if from out the precious chain Some shining links have dropped away, : ¥ 3 i § generations-old car- pet was too threadbare to discover the pat- tern, a room quaint with well-kept Chip- pendale and ae furniture, —although no one there knew that it was Chippendale or Sheraton, —and illuminated with bits of precious china. But they smiled at the spindl ish piano, whose ant ith r Sage; Riokle, had known no tuner in a which might have been worth nearly its weight in gold for its maker, its age, its shape, its inlay of ivory. Poor as poverty, Miss Anna Sparrer sat of le but knew it not. i} chair Mama was sitting when Papa propos- ed; and in the drawers of that low-boy she kept her marriage certificate, and her fav, and ber few love letters; and at this thou- sand-legged breakfast table, larger then by a leaf or more, they bad all sipped their tea or their port after blessing had been asked. The things stood to her ia the place of peo- ple and of family; for they were thronged with memories. And when the old clock in her little vestibule pealed the hour, she heard again “I bave to sell,” said Miss Spar- | Aodrew a dollar for it, and I bought no rer icily, not ber guests to #it down, | more.” and aogry w and with them that | “You paid Andrew a dollar! He never she so violated the laws of hospitality. ve me no dollar ! That's where it is! “Now musto’s be offended,’ said 's where it is ! My Jobuny, I guess | the first one. “It's personal, you | Here I" And she led Miss Aova, without know. It's simply a commercial matter. | asking if she would or no, into the bed- “Yes " from the little dining room where adventared. give you some good modern farnitare, look ing very much like it, only,—well,—made yesterday,—but your neighbors would nev er know the d card ; aud any day, if you should think wel of it, alter turning it over, you can drop us a postal, and we will attend to it at ouce.’ “Only,” said the other, ‘‘we would ad vise you not to delay, because the craze for these things may stop any day and the prices go down. It would be a pity for you to lose the chance. You are sure you don't want to sell today ? That old looking glass, for instance ?'’ That looking glass ! Her mother and her grandmother had dressed to be married , | tell me the truth about them torkeys !” cried the other comi bat *‘Any day you care to sell us the furniture in these two rooms, we can ifference—and —let me see— five and five are ten and ten are twenty, and—yee, all of three thousand dollars in And of course,” she went on so breathlessly that Miss Anna badn’t the chance to put in a word, ‘‘we won's ask you to decide on the spot. But there's our room where Andrew lay boroiog with fever. “Andrew Maclage !"’ she cried. “You jest gis up outer thas bed this minute and There was a moment's silence, and then a sullen voice muttered, *'I told you.” { “No, youdidn’t. Youn told a lie to me. ! Yoo —'* “f told you all I'm goin’ ter,” said the sullen voice. “Ef you don’t say jes’ what happened about them turkeys, Andrew, I'll send youn . | to the poor house before dark ! And I'll | lam ye ’ithin an inch 0’ yer lile inter the bargain ! You bear me ?”’ | ne boy said nothing. “You hear me?’ she said again. t Ob, Mrs. Barrage, don’t i peak eo!" ex- | Slajaed Miss Sparrer. “The child is | sick. : Then Audrew looked up with his big | burning eyes, started avd dazed, seeing | | | the lovely lady. ‘‘Avdrew,’’ said she, | “have ) ou told the truth?”’ | sy] Heclosed his eyes as if to shut outa | nightware; but still he said nothing. Mrs. | Be a eames mete ———" 0 AMEE HAAS PANNA | there are bullfights for amateurs all waiting. thath.” Still obstinate silence. Buirage stood with her bauds on ber hips, | “Audiew, you wust speak,” said Miss | gather woul be useless for a fight, but Anua. “You wust tell Mes, Burrage the ! each bull separately will fight to the i | that a bull will always dash at any- FIGHTING BULLS, : They Are Easily Managed When They Are Massed Together, In Spain accidents to bullfighters are of frequent occurrence, and jt is inter- esting to see the hero of many fights swing into the chapel attached to the bull ring and kneel before the effigy of the Virgin Mary before entering the arena. Bullfighting is the national pastime. Boys play at it in the gutters, and over the country at which only two- year-old bulls are used and young and old descend into the arena. Astound- ing is the enthusiasm, Interesting, too, is the psychology of bulls. When herded together they are docile enough, and it is a picturesque sight to see the bulls brought into the paddock prior to the fight through the streets of the city when all are sleep- ing. A cow trained to the business, with a bell around ber neck, is all that is necessary, and the bulls follow quietly behind her, In the plains where the bulls are reared men on horses manage them quite easily so long as they are massed together. Three bulls in the ring to- death, Bulls literally see red. Were it not a A QUAINTCHARACTER THE ECCENTRICITIES OF THE ITALIAN MARQUIS DEL GRILLO. Grim Joke by Which He Attempted to Revolutionize the Administra- tion of Justice In Home-~Giving to Caesar What Belonged to Caesar. The Marquis del Grillo, husband of the famous actress, Adelaide Ristori, was one of the best known characters of his day. Rich, bearing a title that made him one of the most consp is figures in Roman life, and pe indifferent to what others thought of him, lie indulged in all sorts of pranks. Society called them eccentricities and pronounced him slightly unbalanced, but in reality he was possessed of unu- sually bright faculties. He had a keen sense of humor, loved excitement and was thoroughly awake to the shortcom- ings of his generation. His eccentrici- ties were so many object lessons, which it pleased him to administer in his own quaint way, and they seldom went wide of the mark. His first attempt at a practical joke, if such it may be termed, bade fair to revolutionize the administration of jus- tice in Rome. Punctually at 10 one bright spring morning every church bell in town be- gan to ring “a morto,” a long, peculiar “Andrew!” said Miss Anva. She stood | ¢jyins red the men in the ring would there gazing down on him, knowing that |)... chance whatever. Occasionall she looked dominant and overbearing. But | . , y her heart was full of pity. She didn’s ! bulls have what is called the evil eyo kuow what to do. He muss be made to| And remain indifferent to the red capa speak, of couse, Bat he was so little, so | extended to them, and then the list of r, 80 ill, so weak,—it was sbameful of | casuaities is generally high. er to take advantage of the difference be- | Sometimes a bull which has shown tween them. She seemed to herself an op- | prodigious power and fight is pardoned pressor, a cruel and ignoble creature. She | ,v the populace. A cow, kept for the would let it go. She would tell Mrs. Bur- | purpose, is then sent into the arena, rage there had bees some mistake and she | 4" ot ‘gignt of her the bull forgets Shosld Bave hersen 4 Oflavy When the ext man ap" the fury of the battle and A noise in the other room called Mrs, | Senerall, trots behind to the paddock, Burrage away & moment. Miss Anna was | 28 meek as any heifer. just about to follow. And then the boy | Many are the curiosities about bulls, looked up again with those great shining | which sometimes refuse to attack a eyes and burst out crying. ‘‘I meant to! particular horse and when a man is poy it back!” he whispered between his | aon motionless, disdain even to paw 80 ber grandfathers Ties ate diave do 1he yard on a snowy , e ng cadence after it bad strock was like the Indien in hey vd .) voice When he sat singing songs 0! urns’ and sipping pdr 10 a cut-glase tumbler that he! toddy, the spoon with which he stirred it, with its crest of a sparrow-hawk, were things as’sacred as if he had been a saint in- stead of an immensely good-natured Ssamp, One dav, when Andrew brought ber daily pint of milk from Mre. Burrage who gave him his livi such as it was, for bis chores, she him sis at the table and share her breakfast, and she gave him her own egg, and buttered him generous slices of toast, and madea bowl of coffee and stirred it with this very spoon, ‘‘My father would enjoy ite doinga kind office, I toll used to announce a death. Plus IX. was then reigning pontiff and, hearing the general telling, asked who the great personage was that all Rome was mourning. None of his “suit” knew. but inquiries at St. Peter's ellcit- ed the fact that the Marquis del G had sent the order without who was dead. The pontiff was even more mystified, and when word had come from other churches to the effect he sent for the marquis, who promptly answered the summons. “I hear,” said Pius IX. to the map- quis, that it is at your bidding that every bell in Rome is tolling. Who, theng is dead?” “Justice, your holiness,” was the enig- Then guard with tender heart and hand The remnant of thy household band. Draw near the board with plenty spread, And if in the accustomed place You see the father's reverend head, Or mother's patient, loving face, Whate'er your life may have of ill, Thank God that these are left you still, And though where home has been you stand Today in alien loneliness; ‘Though you may clasp no brother's hand, And claim no sister's tender kiss; Though with no friend nor lover nigh, The past is all your company. before it. It had reflected the young bridal beauty of her great-grandmother ! Sell is ! She opened the door, and the young wom- en found themselves outside, and heard the holt snap without another word spoken. Aud then Miss Anna pulled down her shades vindictively, and eat down and cried with anger, and an assurance of hav- ing been treated with grevious impeitinence Aud then she felt how miserably lonely she was, with no one to screen her from such behavior, and what a barren waste ber life wae, with no one to care for ber, and she caring for no one. Bat as it was prayer- meeting night, and the bell just ringing, she put on her things, and went and forgot herself and her little woes in the service, and walked home in the snapping frost of Thank God for friends your life has known, For every dear, departed day; The blessed past is safe alone God gives, but does not take away; the November night under an immense sky . him. Some bulls make instinctively for | ma ep He only safely keeps above konow,’’ she thought with a smile. She o] ith 1" oried Miss 1 : Puls Hike dns. BOL ve tic reply. For us the treasures that we love. scoured it, however, a little, afterward. 2ull of biasing Stats that 5 Diah wed fen e¥" so on id ol iss Aooa. “I'm | han and will chase him all around | “Justice?” — Phoeby Cary. | “Somehow, it always seems as if an angel “1 wge'm It ’ " bh .| the ring, leaping the barrier if he | «yes, your holiness—justice. The and a—an evi! spirit, were contending in hearted and content forgetting for the mo So'm LOD, som 11 he sobbed, pli THE SPARROW-HAWK. A THANKSGIVING STORY. Miss Auva Sparrer lingered at her break- fast table, dividing her attention between an open letter lying by her plate, and a teaspoon she was balancing on the edge of me,” she murmured, as she did it. But Andrew had enjoyed his breakfast. It seemed to him banqueting could go no further. To have such breakfasts as that —she had added a little of her peach syrup to it—Miss Anna Sparrer must possess un- bounded riches. At Mis’ Barriage’s he ment how lonesome ehe was, and the way in which those young women bad brough home to her the fact not of her wealth but of ber poverty. She had just put away her cup and sau- cer, the next morni when Andrew a Josred at the door with a small tarkey in in ‘Mis’ Barrage said mebbe you'd | aga fally. “I—1I ain't got no cold. It’s jest t | because I done it, ob, I feel so awful bad!” ‘Andrew! Andrew! You poor child!" cried Miss Sparrer, stooping over him. ‘‘[ forgive you this minute! God will forgive you: know He will. You'll never doit fT — vaults over it, and if he falls will kneel upon his body and gore him to shreds. There is no mercy in bulls, and none is shown to .them.—Nineteenth Century. PASSWORDS AT THE BANKS. goddess is no more in the pontifical states.” And thereupon he related to the as- tonished pontiff how, becoming aware of the corruption existing in judiciary circles, he had made an experiment. Claiming that the farm of a poor neigh- would hsve had cold porridge, and nos enough of that. Miss Sparrer had enjoy- ed the breakfast, too; she had liked to see his hearty appetite,—her own picking was very dainty; it bad been pleasant to see his eyes brighten, his freckled face grow rosy, to see him laugh and show all tke white teeth in his wholesome mouth. She had thought him a little dull, maybe; but it was plain that if his little body were well nourished his intelligence might thrive with it. It was a pity, she thought, that bor of his belonged to him, he brought the poor man to court and by liberal bribing obtained possession of the whole estate, to which he had no right whatsoever. The pope, after listening attentively, censured the marquis severely for the method used, but history tells us that the lesson bore fruit and that many changes took place in important civic like ter buy one o’ her turkeys,” he said. | ‘‘Ob, you bet I won't!"’ sobbed Andrew, “She's got ten. An’ they're good ones. | with deep conviction. I've tended on ’em all summer. "Taint - | varry big. You can hev it fer a dollar.” | wy. gt right up and come bome wit! ~ me. I won't leave you here another day!’ ‘“Bless the boy !” eaid Miss Anna. “I| For in the instant there flashed over ber don’t know as I ought to have a turkey, if | the glory of a new world of possibilities. I do, before the real day comes, or before | That furniture! If she sold it for aby such I can get through with is. To be sure,” | gum as those young women said, and in- she thought rapidly, “I can warm it up,for | vested that, the interest would give her all the matter 8f that, and ask the Minister | she money she needed to hring Andrew her cup. It was no one’s affair if she linger —the pity of it, she thought. She lived alone, and feit her loneliness keenly. She was rather a bright woman, and she tried to be a good one; but she wasn’t pretty, and She had never had a lover in her whole e. All the other Sparrers bad gone to try e farther life of the nnknown. Even fhe ouse had been changed, as one half of it had been sawed off and moved away ; and | A Secret Sign Given Thoxe Who Can- | not Write Their Names. The banks give secret passwords to ) | depositors who cannot read or write. When one of these depositors goes to draw out money the cashier leans for- ward and whispers: “What's your password?” The depositor whispers an answer, and if the correct password Is given | positions the scars were covered now by a huge grape little And had fall such hard | and Mrs. Hollis to dinner one day. And | yp, educate him, and then ow id " a vine that grew as if it knew what was ex- | Boor Fut what was the use | If she were | it'll till do cold for supper and bave Mrs. start him in life with the prinoi- the money Ja gn 4 ou A « nero wo. | At another time the marquis, who al- pected of it. She had covered part of the inside wall by her beantiful mahogany sec- retary with its bevelled glass, its brass in. lay and exquisite metal monuts. She ex- Green and Miss——Yes, Audrew, I'll take it. And I hope you'll bave good Inck with There's a bright silver dollar for Mrs. Barrage, and a nickel for you.” ways dressed very modestly, made his way on foot to t!: palace of Prince Massimo, where :: big reception was a rich woman,—Well, well if Rome had never failen London bad never risen, Lebo other, pal. She didn’t want to do it; —she bated to do it;—but she must! You could se- there was something in the boy. She could not leave him here in these influ man sat upon a bench, her face indicat- ing intense application of mind. The cashier nodded toward her and said: : £ pended much time aud labor on that brass; and she always felt that her dead and gone people were doing something for her as she did so, since at such times she was unable to think of her loneliness, Miss Sparrer’s loneliness oppressed her. She looked at othier women with their hus- bands and children with silent envy. If one of those boys were hers! Bat she checked the thought as an indelicacy. And there ! If she had ten sons, what in the world conld she have done with them ? She, who conld barely keep herself ! But it would be 80 pleasaut to see them growing, their minds and souls vxpanding, to have only one of them come storming in in snowy weather, to have his love and com- panionship, bis arms clasped round her neck, his head lying on her shoulder when at twilight she told stories and sang songs and they exchanged the day’s confidences together, Ob, how bitterly lonely she was ! She hadn’t even a cat, forshe couldn’t af- ford meat for one,znd there wasn’t a mouse in the house. And she didn’t like cats, either. She was afraid of them; and they made her sneeze. She would have heen glad of a dog. But there again—a dog liked his hone. So one dull day was like another; and aithough she was not unbap- Py, she constantly felt how much happier she might be, with some one to love and some one to love her. Miss Sparrer held herself rather loftily. Her father had been the village ne’er-do- well, indulged, beloved, pitied and par- doned by every one. Bat his father had been the Doctor, and the father before that the Lawyer aod Squire of the place. There are some things that long descent make oh- ligatory, fine manners, and a certain kind- wv condescension among them. And in ose Miss Sparrer never failed. She main- tained the tradition of her great.grand-’ father’s hospitality by a tea-party in win- ter, along towards March when her hens were laying well, at whioh all the parish was mad2 welcome; the refection of which it was understood, was to be scrambled egge, her famous oream o'tartar biscuits, with some of the honey of her two hives, and a dish of peach preserves. The little peach tree, if the summer were warm, gave her a few jars, and they were treasn £0 long that they were candied. In summer she gave a en-party to the same guests, who each ht her own Qoccasionally the minister came to see Miss Sparrer. He found her one day sewing on xome garments that the Missionary So- ciety wae to send to Sinpooranhad, on the other side of the world. “Yes,” said the Minister, as she dis. played the work. ‘‘Those stitches are ex- quisite. I think they can’t bat satisfy the artistic taste of the natives.” **Why,I thought vou approved of foreign missions !"* she said, looking ap in amaze- ment. “By all means and every means. Bat the duty nearest at hand seems to me the one that claims us first. The families down at Starveley Cove are suffering for clothes, and cold weather coming on.” “Well, I'm sorry.” said Miss Anna, her thimble on hér lips. “But this doesn’s belong to me. It belongs to the Society. And I dou's believe I have a thing myself those people can wear. Bat I'll tell the Society —it wants to do about what's right, you know,’ “Certainly. Perbaps they can do this and not leave the other undone,’’ said the Minister. - “There's that poor little An- drew Maclane, too. That unfortunate hoy troubles me soreiy. He is growing up to bad ends, where he is; and there's good in him. Johony Bur is non compos, hut he's about as bad as if he bad all his wits; and his inflaence—dear me !—What can I do ? I've six mouths to fill, as itis !"’ To be sare he had, the man ! It was a wonder he could do what be did. His overcoat was thin, and shiny and white at the seams, and the weather would soon be bitterly cold ! “Heart alive !”” said Miss Anna, when he had gove. “If religion's worth having, it’s worth payiog for. And that dear man’s going to have a good, sohstantial, new overcoat whether the box goes to Sinpoo- ranbad or nos!” The Minister's visit remained with Miss Anna like something uncomfortable in she digestion. And she was quite low-spirited, with a sense of not hav done all her duty, sitting in the twilight by her small fire whose flicker flashed here and there and made a brightness in the room, when she was startled by a noice outside the win- dow, and then by the sight of the faces pressed so closely sgainst the pane that the noses and lips were mere blue and white blotches. Immediately afterwards came a tap at thie door;—Mise Anna never opened the door after dark without inquiring who basket. And if with any generous inten- | was th tion they brought more could be used the next day Miss Auna made a round of brief visits, taking to Mrs. Green scme of Mis. Brown's delicious cakes, and to Mrs, Brown some of Mrs. White's flaky tarts, and to Mrs. White some of Mrs. Green's delicate rusks,so it could be seen that none of these dainties were reserved hy hersell. On the contrary, she often bestowed obarity. There was Andrew Maclane—how many a time bad she called him in and given hima ole 6t bread 859 Butter great an thickly with brown sugar? How many a Sime Bad whe give) Bits a jenny ? She bad gone without her dinner more onoe,in order to feed a hungry tramp. It gave a sweet sense of the bountiful behavior of some fiotitions lady of the manor. gs Andrew, at any rate, bad an idea that Miss wasn person of vast riches a always ehing oo and swearing at the pital Ww passed by. But Andrew knew nothing of her multitudinous econo- ere. “Oh, it’s only us !"’ came a girl’s voice. “We want to come in just a moment, if you'll let us. We want to see you on some very important business.” She ed the door carefully, the poker in a hand, and two young women came in. re Ring By Jo Sada BA dow were ou badn own I ST A mm n . we saw the shining of Joa won- derful mahogany !"’ cried . “Apd we felt we must eee it nearer ! Oh, do ex- cunse ns!" as Miss Anna's manner grew Hore eiakely, “We shall have to ess the truth. We are dealers in old furniture, and we often xn thi the country vil lages at nightfall, because often then we fan see throogh the windows what there “And ob, if you want to sell we want to buy, any of it, all of it—-"' “And we give good honest prices I" And then she looked for her sweet herbs, and decided that as she had the squash she had raised herself, and some barberries she had picked and made into jelly, she would udding and make a foamy sauce, —you conld make it with one egg,—and have company, not waiting for Thanksgiving. And eo she did. steam a slice of her rich cake for It was the morning after this festivity that Miss Anna Sparrer sat balancing her teaspoon on her cup,and glavcing, between the feats, at the note lying beside ber plate. She had received it yesterday, aud had sen an indignant reply by the Burrage ohild who brought it. “Mis Sparer : Ff you cud pay me terday fer the ten tur- kies jess wells not that Andru soald yon ide be obleeged zi want the munny fer Thanksgivio the wust way. Andru is sum sik obed, his ize run an his knose an his bak akes an his hed akes and hese hot an® coald by spels so Jonny will fech the munny. Your respekle Missis Burrage. Ten turkeys ! What inthe world did i mean ! She had bought one, and had paid turkeys—she conldn’t eat for is. Ten them in a year; and of ccurse she couldn’ pay for them, and shouldn’t ! She bad told ohnny Burrage so yesterday. Bus just now Johnoy bad returned reiterating the Johnny pans big boy, Sau wired, and wholly opeless, pretty al uite irresponsi- ble. She knew exactly what had happen- ed. Johnny had sold those Saricers to ere demand, aod had hunred off. other people one by one, of course. was no one in the village who would buy ten turkeys at once. And he had spent the money at the tavern over by Starveley Cove, Now the question was, should she let the affair go, and remain under the stigma of baving taken un poor woman's property and refused to pay for it, or should she go ove to Mrs. Burrage's and gar altercation with her, and, an challenge Johnny with his w iy. third Either way was difficult to her. way, that of giving the woman ten dol dear boy to love, and the furniture, too. was not only to oa herself aes “Tomorrow is Thanksgiving,” she sal , 88 wrong, but was impossible. Fist Miss Auna looked at the note with ona locked at h iff LD foe er teaspoon as if for inspiration and guidance. She bad always supposed spoon, worn toa mere outline now, was a eparrow, inferring dat that word. But the mioister had told her on the other hand, it was a sparrow: marked the robber . That is to eay t. And she recog- row-hawk in her vature that its smears and blurs, written in blank leaf torn from a hook the crest on that the family pame was a corruption bawk, and probably prowess of her ancestry sheir cruelsy, she nized the would lenge But that spoon—it oY ove which used by ber ne’er-do-weel purse—small though it def Sonfl one. And then she felt the father in her- while wishing she had the ten dollars bad been al father who a kind word and to give and be done with it. notantly Miss Auna warmed her over tying her honnet digoaotly. “‘Ain’s you ‘shamed, Mies Sparrer | A poor feeble-minded boy like rrage,’’ said Miss rer with dignity, “I bought one Mise Spar I paid that !”’ “Mrs. Bu have perbaps a vul- .| Captain : Let him have one of those 12 shoes,and d fod galling ito her close aud and adjusting her sippet. “My Johnny !'’ said Mrs. Burrage in- ences, les come what would come. She would not! She must take him home and make an honest man of him. That is what the Minister meant. And oh, thank heav- en, she would never be lonesome again! Almost at the point of tears bersell with her thronging thoughts, she bent and put her arms about the hot and fevered boy, + | and held his head on her breast, and kissed him, and began to love him (rom that moment, “There—there ain’t nobody kissed me t | since Bates was hung!’’ he sobbed. Miss Anna borrowed ten dollars of the Minister that day, and satisfied Mrs. But- rage. And the two young women who came with their vans the next week to bring her the medern furniture and take away the old, stayed to hang their gift of s | some pretty silk curtains at her windows, and to pat in place the new things made so much after the pattern of the old that she need not leel the difference very keen- ly. : “1 sup, you don’t want to sell that old silver? It's quite thin,” said ove of ¢ | them. “It’s really worth a great deal of money." “Why, no,” said Miss Anna. ‘It is old family silver. And my hoy—Andrew, ~will grow up some day and like it with the family crest on it. make you a present of two of the spoons. For you’ve made me a great,a tremendous, present! You've given me this hoy, and days and nights that will never know lone- liness, and a heart full of thankfulness!” She took the hoy on her knee when they had gone, and tea cleared awav, and told him a Bible story, and sang him an old ballad; it was vet an hour before prayer- meeting. In the firelight the rooms looked much as they had done before. It was only r | a matter of sentiment. That was in a way dead sentiment. But this was alive,alive, , | and made life worth living! She could love her own dear people still, without their old farnitore. But she couldn’t have this she tucked him into bed before the bell rang. ‘‘Baot for you and me, Andrew lad, I think hereafter it will he Thanksgiving every day of our lives!"”’—By Harriet Pres- cott rd in The Delineator. “This Little Pig” in China. The mother of a Chinese baby counts her little one’s toes just as American mothers do. When the gay, embroidered shoes are taken off she pinches one tiny toe and then another, as she sings: “This little cow eats grass, this little cow eats hay This little cow drinks water, this little cow runs AWAY, This little cow does nothing, but just lie down all day. ‘We'll whip her!" A - : Do you see that captain nae De es away ? - Tar : Ay, ay, sir. inch shells in the eye. Tar : Which eye, sir? ” a— ‘Well, son." * “What's a pedestripn?”’ “A pedestrian, son, is one who doesn’t bave time to get ont of the way of an But I’m going to | pered auto.” “She's forgotten her password and is trying to think of it. She came, to the window awhile ago and wanted to get some money. She only wanted a small amount. But she can't write. She's one of quite a number of our depositors who are given passwords when they open an account. When she came in I asked her to give her name and ad- dress. She answered right up. ‘What's your password? I asked her. “M-m," she exclaimed, pursing her lips, ‘let me see. Ain't dat peculiah? Hit done ’'scaped mah mind now. “ ‘Can't you think of it? I said. ‘You know I can't pay the money until you give me the password? “ ‘Lord, honey,’ she exclaimed, ‘Ah’s mighty nigh dat money! But Ah jes’ can't ‘member hit now.’ “ ‘Well, sit down and think it over,’ I suggested to her. ‘It may come to you.’ ” In a few minutes the old woman arose with a happy look upon her face and went up to the cashier's window. She put her face as far inside the nar- row window as she could and whis- “Abrabam Linkun.” “Correct,” answered the cashier, and he paid her the money she was after. “Ah jes’ couldn't place dat man's name at first,” she said as she went out.—Kansas City Star. Over Eight Feet Tall, King James I. had a gigantie porter eight feet six inches in height, but he was not perfect, being round shoul- dered, knock kneed and lame im one foot. Of a similar height was Charles Munster, 8 yeoman of the Hanoverian guard who died In 1676, and seven §ears before there was being exhibited in London a Dutchman eight feet nine inches high anent whom in Pepys’ diary we find the following entry on Aug. 15, 1669: “Went to Charing Cross to see the great Dutchman. I did walk under his arm: with my hat on and could not resch his chin with the tips of my fingers.” Whipped Cream. “Look here,” shouted the irate neigh- bor over the fence, “your youngest son has been stoning my cats and piifering my apple trees! He is a scamp!” “Don’t talk that way about my son,” blurted the fond parent. “Why, he is considered the cream of our family.” “The cream, eh? Well, I'd like to see him whipped.”—Chicago News. Work For Nothing. First Crook—I'm getting tired of work. Second Crook—What's the mat ter now? First Crook—I raised a check from $10 tc $1,000 and tried to get it cashed, and the cuss didn't have that amount of money in the bank.—New | York Press. ' There is a great secret in kno what to keep out of the mind ar as what to put in.--Emerson. being held. As !¢ approached the en- trance a pompous lackey looked him over from head to foot and then barred the way. “No admittance tonight,” he said in- solently. “A rece tion is going on.” The nobleman stead amazed, for even over princes he often took precedence, but then he saw the humor of the situa- tion and, smiling to himself, walked away. Half an hour later a magnificent coach drew up before the palace, and out stepped the marquis, resplendent in a gorgeous court uniform and scintiliat- ing with decorations. In a minute the whole house was astir, and the hostess herself met him and led him in. The night was warm, and soon she invited him to have an ice, an offer which he promptly accepted. Imagine her feel- ings when, instead of eating it, he coolly and deliberately proceeded to spread spoonful after spoonful over the front of his uniform and on his nu- merous decorations, “Why, marquis,” she exclaimed in alarm, “what are you doing?” “Giving Caesar what belongs to Cae- sar,” was the quiet reply. “Your serv- ants refused to let me in in the garb of a plain gentleman, but promptly ad- mitted my costume and decorations when 1 carried them in. Is it not they that should be rewarded?” A peculiarity of the marquis was his refusing to have as personal valets any but the most quick witted of young fellows, who could help him in his lit- tle escapades without having to be coached too much. Many amusing tales are told of his experiences in en- gaging them. In one instance he was ‘sitting at the piano trying some church ‘music when a new applicant was ush- lered in. He didn’t stop playing or even around, but began to ask ques- , the answers to which evidently d not appeal to him, for he suddenly ‘struck a loud chord and, following the e of the music, chanted in a loud voice, “You will never do for me. he rose and without a look at the started to walk out of the room. 12 cents for doing it up. Laundryman —Quite right, sir; we laundered it be- fore we lost it.—Harper's Weekly. Nothing !s easy to the unwilling— Fro "> Gaelic.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers