Beilefonte, Pa., July 24, 1908.
THE QUEST.
We followed the Rainbow Road
When the storm had grumbled by,
d by the big east wood
3st the sky
The rainbow »
With its top ag
Dot and the dog and [—
The dog with the curly tail—
And a spade to dig for the treasure big,
A spade and a new tin pail,
(She was the company, | la command,
And the dog went along to guard the band.)
The colors came down to the ground,
Somebody told us so,
And somebody told how a pot of gold
Was hid at the and of the bow,
We hurried along, a row,
Ready to seek and find;
I led the lot and next came Dot,
With the curly tailed dog behind.
(She was a girl, and so, in case
Of danger, 1 gave her the safest place.)
O, we were almost there,
And we would have been rich, no doubt,
But the wind came by with a dreadful ery,
And the Beautiful Bow went cut,
When we turned to look about .
The great black dark had come—
We ran so fast that Dot was lost,
And the dog was the first one home.
(And the rainbows come and the rainbows go,
But Dot and the dog and I—we know!)
— [Saint Nicholas.
A PINSTRIPE DIMITY.
‘‘Have you beard the latest?’ quizzed
Janet Robinson, elbowing a place for her-
self among a group of hoys and girle in the
bigh school yard at Masontown. A spirit-
ed discussion as to whether the commence-
ment exercises should be given in the op-
era house or the armory was as pis tide, silk
and Janet's query out short
Moore's statement that the armory was
out of the question.
“That we can’t bave our olass pins in
time,”’ answered Pauline Kaiser, ignoring
Kenneth’s remark $0 present the doubt
that lay closest to her heart at this partio-
ular time.
“That the almanac predicts snow for the
twenty-eighth,’’ laughed Kenneth.
“Or that Armour’s cornered the sheep
market and our diplomas will be made of
crepe paper,” suggested Willis Brown,
with a drollish smile.
“N—o0!" declared Janet with reflected
disgust. ‘‘Frances Harrison's going to
wear a dimity commencement dress !"’
‘‘A dimisy ?'’ repeated Daisy Barlow, in
unbelieving astonishment.
‘‘Yes ; she and her mother were in
Caine’s fast nighs buying, or rather trad-
ing in batter and eggs, for a pinstripe,
twenty-five cente—"’
“Horrors!” in Daisy, whose
cultivated taste placed dimity and oheese-
oloth in the same category. ‘‘And she bas
the second oration. Who ever heard of
the like?”
“0, that’s not so horrible,” declared
Willis. “Kenneth confided to me this very
morning that he was going to wear his
duck trousers creased in a box-pleas.”’
‘‘You boys won’s laugh whea
the whole class disgraced,’ cried Janes in
a tone that bespoke finality. ‘‘I can’ see
why these country girls do not stay where
they belong, or else not push themselves
on the program.”
“She did not push herself on,” flared
Paaline. ‘‘She’s second by right of her
marks, isn’t she, Keun?”
“You bet! And its heen nip-and-tuck
between us for the last three months,”
vouched Kenneth, who had won class hon-
ors by a small margin.
‘‘And sarely you can's hlame a girl for
wanting to go throogh high, even though
she lives in the country.”
Verbal sparke of ‘‘Let her do as ber class
does,” “Country Jake!" ‘‘Pare selfish-
ness’ flashed from the group, with a final
shot from the outskirts of ‘‘Let’s vote out
her oration.”
“Nixy!” blurted Kenneth, turning
away from the girls to join Willis, who had
deserted the group in disgust.
‘‘Maybe she'll look nicer in her twenty-
five-cent pinstripe than we girls will in
our laces,’’ deolared Pauline. ‘‘Is doesn's
take much, you know, to make Frances
look pretty.” Pauline’s tone shriveled
where it touched.
“Well,”” fumed Janet, ‘‘she ought to
think of her class, and do as they do. She
knows the seniors are making an extra ef-
fort this year on account of the Mount Vie-
tory sad Seiayeed vison. Guess the
Harrisons could scrape enough together to
buy Frances a decent dress if they tried.”
“8—h!" cautioned Pauline, but the
scathing words that rose above the sitter
made Frances cheeks burn crimson as she
flashed past.
‘‘She shan’t sit in the front row’’’ en-
joined Janet, back of her band, as the
group moved round the corner and up the
Huplearspel main street toward the north
where the opulent few of the Mason-
town’s 5,000 inhabitants lived.
The modest homes took on a more pre-
tentious size as the blocks distanced the
town square, but here and shere among the
new homes nestled a misfit, time-worn oos-
tage, a reminder of the early days and de-
leted fortunes. Sach was the home of
anet Robinson and her widowed mother,
and from this outpoes on the horderland of
aristocracy, Janes found much joy so com-
fort her foolish pride, Ha
rs. Harrison has been
“You know
ill,” reasoned Pauline as the girls Slopped
at Janet's gate for a parting i er
bas been out there aver so many times, and
I heard him say last week that their bess
horse was lamed the night their barn was
struck by lightning.”
‘0, I don’t care a bit for that,” argued
Janet. ‘‘Frances could have a silk dress if
she'd just put her foot down. Why, mam-
ma didn’t want me to have one,” she con-
fided in a lower tone, *‘but I said I just
must, and that ended it. Frances could,
too, if she’d any spunk.”
After waving a good-bye to Janet, the
remnant of the party walked on slowly.
Janet stood at the gate watobing them. At
No Dest Surber was De. Raters bote,
n, unpretentious roomy, but sug-
gestive of the bappy, wholesome folks that
lived within. Across the street stood
Banker Barlow’s new home, a fantasy of
eri eh gn losed
anes ; e ng gate ©
with a rusty creak i her nerves.
‘“That must be fixed,’! she reflected.
‘“The house needs painting, and my ! how
draggled those curtains look! We'll surely
have to have a new pair—after comm ence-
mens.
She hurried through the narrow, dark
ballway to the dining room beyond. The 3
room was empty. It seemed to Janet, now.
that she really thought of it, that she could
ou see | top
vat recollect a single day since her father's
death, five years ago, that her mother bad
pot =at by the window sewing.
“She's in the yard, perbaps. No,
work is folded on the machine
Janet dropped her books on the stand
and a sheet of tablet paper fluttered so the
floor. Her face flinched as she read the
feehly serawled pote ; then, tossing it aside
she picked up the new fashion paper and
sank into a rocker to forget her aesthetio
complaint in s profusion of new sleeves
and lace- trimmed flonnoes.
her
It was a melting Jane day, hat Frances |
Harrison trudged the san-baked pike, in- |
sensible to the glare that made the top
fence-1ail all zig-zaggy. Two miles of the
rosd’s dusty length bad been covered with-
out a pause. At the three mile post, the
road dipped into a hollow and across a lazy
creek that crept away to the thick, still
woods. Here the air was cool and smelled
of wild grapes and iree-bark and the miu-
gled odors of unknown berbs and of the
moist earth. But Frances did not slacken
her steps, for ber eyes were on the little
white farm home that capped the hilltop a
half mile beyond, and her thoughts on
mother.
“A twenty-five cents dimity ! The class
will be disgraced. She is selfish nos to
think of us Vote out her oration.”
Frances could hear again those decrying
voices jnst outside the school-room win:
dow. She bad tarried to change a para-
graph in ber thesis and was happy in the
thought that pow her oration was ready
for the world, ber world of Masontown
and the farm. To be enre, she had de-
claimed it along the ou way to the birds
aad the SWalwar} wees. And | even Sth
er gestures mir n sleepy creek;
for to be chosen second in a class, a class of
filty, was something of which to be .
and on that night of nights, with all Ma-
sontown for an and she meant to
make the class proud of her.
Frances had not intended to listen, bus
when those words in searing derision burst
upon her, she bad felt stunned.
¢Q, it cannot be,’’ she muttered, ‘‘for
my dimis, fo Deut eh I Soult lave
1m $; bot
doctor's bill, and—and mother must have
Belp. Dr. Kaiser said yesterday he'd try
to as woman in town. If] silk I'm
sure it would mean d wil § some-
thing needed at home, and dimity will do
as well. OI" she cried to she incessant
heart-ache as she leaned against the fence,
“O—ol”
sod Taaaen SOV1A 0 wait $0 go round the
way; it seemed a mile longer today;
80 she climbed the rail fence at the mead-
ow aod wens ap she back lane.
As she n the barn, she could hear
voices off toward the house.
‘Company, or else Dr. Kaiser's found
someone #6 help mother,”” she presued.
“‘I hope it's a woman, for mother will do
things io spite of me.”
Frances steadied herself againet the barn
door, looking off down the hill and across
Jowa'd Mason town. On the far Susie
wae the depot, a mere
een farm fields, and still farther a factory
m whoee chimney was trailing a emudge
of black athwars the oloudiess sky.
Hereand there among the mass of tree:
on the near hillside towered a dormer
window or a patch of roof, while on an
posite hill stood the school with ite .
Ra
‘‘How small it all seems from the bill
!" she exclaimed, waviog a band to-
ward the village, ‘and how beautiful! she
farm! It’s a world all to iteclf, with she
dear old lane, the orchard, the freckled
hen and her chick« browsing in the garden.
Whats if my dress is only a pinstripe?’ she
laughed.
Just then the talking indoors grew loud-
er, and she heaid her mother’s langh.
Frances suddenly fels choky.
‘‘I won't tell her. It'll bart her more
thao it does me. No, she'll never know.”
She tip-toed to the pump to dash away
the tell-tale tears and drown the rankling
lomp in her throat. When she reached
the step she knew that the strange voice
did not belong to company, for it came
from the kitchen, accompanied by she thud
and oliok of some ironing.
“Why, you look as il you'd seen a
ghost!" exclaimed Mis. Harrison, kissing
ber daughter's cool cheeks. ‘‘It’s Mre.
Rohinson come ont to’
‘Yes, Dr. Kaiser hrought me out this
morning,’ Jaoet's mother announced, ply-
ing the iron over the wrinkled surface of
Frances’ skirt, “and it has been likea
holiday; for Sarah and I don’t see each
other very often these days. We've heen
talking over old times,’’ she continued,
“‘for we were girls together, Frances, gradu-
ated from the old log school on the Victory
pike! Do you remember our dresses, Sarah?
They were white lawn with a black ivy
vine, and how we laughed when we found
they were both off the same piece!"’
Frances stood agape. Mrs. Robinson’s
tired face seemed to dissolve into one
bright »mile. but that smile faded when
she added with a smothered sigh: ‘‘Girls
now-a-days have more fine olothes when
they graduate thar we did when we got
married. I tried to persuade Janet to do
with dimity or a swiss,”’ she continued,
“‘but she cried and =aid that all the olass
were going to wear silk with val-trimmed
flounces. I don’t know where its coming
trom, Sarah, for the note was due on the
mortgage last week, and I couldn’s pay
even the interest.”
It was a resolute Frances that faced her
class the next morning and a more resolute
one that waylaid Miss Ritter in the hall at
recess
“Why, Miss Harrison, your theme is
beantiful—really.”
“I'm tive in my decision, Mise Rit-
ter. Take my name off the program, and
say nothing about it— please.”
When Frances raised her eyes from Miss
Ritter's ed face, Kenneth Moore stood
by the cloak-room door, looking straight
at her. She turned to evade him, but he
stoppel in her way.
. bare, Bidives Harvinda, J0u1e ust
going to get off thas way. n't w
out by three marks for nothing.”
“Yes, I am, Ken,” she answered, look-
ing beyond him. ‘‘And if you've heard
what I just said to Miss Ritter, do not
speak of is. I really can’t.”
“Yes, you can and you must. You've
essed what the girls were talking about
night, ’’ he blurted, searching her face
for evidence.
Frances turned on her heel into the
Soke: rous, leavios Kuta to gaelim,
th a fingers, ‘‘That’s a
blamed shame!”
Morning d into noon. A$ noon
Fravoces ate her lunch in the shade of the
koarry old apple trce in the school yard
corner,and then wens to the library to read
awaythe remaining twenty minutes. When
she returned, the junior scholars had de.
serted the bleaching yard for the cooler
classroom, and the seniors were
the Te Deum they were to sing at com.
mencement. :
Frances paused in the auditorium door-
way, but before she had located a vacant
Ra
seat, Pauline Kaiser flirted her book and |
edged over to indicate a place beside her, |
“The fifth weasure,"’ she whispered !
Frances's olear soprano blended beauti- |
fully with Pauline’s rich alto tones. The |
girls bad nvever sung together but there |
were a unison and a harmony that cansed |
Miss Ritter to look in their direstion. {
In the second part of the chorus there
was a soprano and aito duet, but their be- |
ing no two singers qualified to take the |
part, it was sung in chorus.
“Will Miss Frances aod Miss Paaline
sing the aria on page twelve, beginning ‘0, |
gracious Lord. cast down Thine eyes’ 2’
Both girls were natural singers and went |
through their parts without hesitation.
‘““How well your voices blend I" Miss |
Ritter declared. ‘‘You must sing the daet |
at commencement.” !
Frances gave one appealing look at her |
teacher, but Pauline’s vod of approval |
sealed the answer and relaxed the frown |
from Janet Robinson's face. |
The afieinoon dragged on. It seemed
endless to Frances, but at last the gong
sounded.
‘I'll see Miss Ritter a minute,’ she re-
solved, ‘for il my dress is vot fine enough
for an oration, 1t certainly won't do to sing
in.”
Bat Miss Ritter had been called to the
floor above, so Frances waited.
Someone wae talkiog in the ball. She
caught the word ‘‘dimity,” avd involun-
tarily clapped hoth hands to her ears.
“I will not hear another word,” she
sobbed inwardly. *‘Ohb, why don’t they
",m
py A hurriedly penciled a note to the
teacher and gathered up ber books.
was orying. Janet ? Then
Kenneth Moore mumbled in an undertone.
“Is ie too late ?'’ choked Janes. ‘‘Mam-
ma— wanted —me—not—to—bave—-silk."’
It’s not too late for me,’’ assured Daisy.
We've been waiting for samples.”
Several announced that they did intend
to fet theirs the last of the week.
‘I bought a dimity last night,” an-
nounced Pauline. ‘‘A pinstripe, too !"
Kenneth, who, if the truth be known
could not tell a dimity from silk or sack-
cloth flung his cap to the second-floor ceil-
ing witha burst of ‘‘Now you're on the
right track !| And, oracky ! I'll bave my
trousers creased in a double box-pleas !"
Franoes jabbed her batpin into her sailor
and reached for ber books.
“Why, here she is,” called Panline. “I
thought you'd—'"'
's eyes were swimming as she
reached for 's hand.
“gy, girlie,” she sobbed, HI met?
Bat Janet's entreaty was blended with,
‘‘Is wae wicked of us to say what we did,
"" ‘You must give your oration,"’
sod “I'm there was one girl,” it
sounded like Janet's voice, ‘‘in Masontown
who bad spunk enough to stand for what
wae right ; for silk commencements are a
foolish, foolish extra .""-By Blanche
Younug McNeal, In the Christian Advocate.
Unique Postage Stamps.
Japan is the only country which has
given recognition to the floral kingdom in
ibe fsenes of ite Sawpe. Trees
ve been portrayed upon stamps by man
countries, ly those situated in ‘he
tropics, but it is only upon the stamps of
Japan that a flower 3
oh or the national flower
apan, ven a uous place
upon all the postage stamps issued by he
government, snd upon many of the de-
nominations it ocoupies the central portion
of the stamp.
For nearly ten years (it ay be remark-
ed by way of parenthesis)—from 1857 to
1866 —a ous feature of all the
tage stamps of Newfoundland was a -
quet of thistle blossoms within the centre
of a delicately engraved background. This
issue of etamps was exceedingly popular
with greedy collectors and is known as the
‘‘thistle issne.’”
Nervousness is a common feminine dis-
ease. Women try all kinds of nerve quiet-
ing potions which are offered as a cure for
nervousness, in the form of ‘‘compounds’’
or ‘‘nervines.’” And yet nooure is effected.
The relief is only temporary. The reason
is that these ons are and par-
cotics. They pus the nerves to sleep for a
time, but when they wake again their con-
dition is worse than before. Modern
medicine recognizes the relation of this
nervous condition in women to the forms
of disease which affect she sensitive wom-
anly organs. To oure the nervousness the
cause must be removed. The use of Dr.
Pierce's Favorite Prescription will result
in the cure of weakening drains, inflamma.
tion, ulceration and bearing-down pains,
the common causes of nervousness in wom-
en. Nothing is just as good as *“‘Favorite
Prescription,” becanse nothing else is as
harmless or as sure. It contains no aleohol,
and is absolutely free from opium, cocaine
and other narcotics. :
Anticipating Him.
Night after night the exceedingly
quiet and backward youth had called
on a neighboring farmer's daughter,
sitting perfectly mute beside her while
she did all the entertaining. This
night, however, the youth, wishing for
a glass of water, suddenly surprised
her by blurting out, “Say, Sal, will
you" —
“Don’t exert yourself, Reuben,” she
interrupted. “I understand. Yes, Have
you brought the ring?’ — Bohemian
Meagazine,
The Toast of an Irishman.
Michael Meyers Shoemaker wrote
“Wanderings in Ireland.” An old
Irishman read a fragment of it that
related to the reader's neighborhood.
He asked the name of the author.
“Mr. Shoemaker, is it?” he comment-
ed. “A nice gentleman, I'll go bail
'Tis a fine country he chose to travel
iz too. Asfay the heavens be
for choosing it, and may every hair
his Rouor’s head be a mold candle
long as he lives. Secoad
Let's out of this, No money here.
He's every cent.—London Tit-Bits.
At Last.
“Ah, ba” exclaimed the great ex-
plorer joyfully, “at last I have found
the missing link!
And, crawling from under his bed,
he proceeded to put the small gold af-
fair in his clean cuff.—New York Jour-
nal.
PASTIMES OF MADMEN.
Cunning and Inccnuity Displayed by
the Insane.
|
Some of the inventions of the insane |
are of scientific value. A pitient at
Villejuif invented a “pacification mn
chine” by combining a bottle, a plank
and small wetallic tubes, to which he
had fitted faucets. Having set ap his
machine, he produced loaves of bread
the size of 21 wan’s head. The bread
was good--so good that it was decided
to make the machine known. One day
| when it was in action the doctor sug-
gested taking a photograph of it. The
inventor watched him as If petrified
i March,
for a moment; then he fell upon the |
machine, wrenched it apart and tram- |
pled it underfoot. The invention, an
exceedingly useful one, was lost,
cause no one had seen him make it,
and no one dares speak of it to him.
To allude to it is to bring on a furious
attack.
Most lunatics, no matter how content-
ed they may be, generally cherish a
furtive longing to escape. They col-
lect wax from the polished floors, take
the impressions of locks and make keys
from empty sardine boxes, spoon han-
dles or anything to be found. Dr. Ma-
rie’s museum includes a collection of
knives of strange and unheard of
shapes. Some of them have blades
made from pleces of glass or slate and
set in handles of corset steels. Objects
barmiess in themselves become dan-
gerous weapons through the ingenuity
of madmen.
Insane sculptors are as common as
insane painters. The insane sculptor
hews out coarse statuettes, fantastic
animals, ferocious little horned and
grimacing devils. An. ex-mechanic
carves all his soup bon That his old
trade is still in his memory is shown
by the little screws that he makes out
of the smaller pieces of bone. He
works all day at his senseless and
ridiculous task. Another lunatic, who
believes he is the incarnation of the
soul of Beelzebub, passes his time’
carving toy men out of wood. Each
pair of his creations are joined to-
gether, now at the necks, now at the
shoulders.—Helen E. Meyer In Har
per's Weekly.
NATIONAL CONVENTIONS.
They Succeeded the System of Nomi-
nation by Caucus.
Conventions have not always nomi
nated our presidents and vice presi-
dents, For more than thirty years
presidential candidates were named by
a caucus made up of members of the
house and the senate, This system
died when in 1824 the caucus insisted
upon by Martin Van Buren and other
friends of Willlam H. Crawford of
Georgia defeated Crawford, which
threw the election into the house on
account of the scattering electoral vote
caused by the entrance of Clay, Cal-
houn, Jackson and John Quincy Adams
in the race. This fracas elected Adams,
The campaign of 1828 in consequence
was somewhat demoralized, and In
1831 the Republicans followed the ex-
ample the anti-Masonic party had set
the year before and met in conven-
tion in Baltimore to nominate Henry
Clay. The Democrats held their first
national convention in the same city
the following year, nominating Martin
Van Buren for vice president. The
dominating figure of the party, Andrew
Jackson, needed no indorsement of his
candidacy for the presidency.
The Democrats in 1835 and 1840
nominated Van Buren for the presi-
dency in Baltimore, and the Whigs
nominated Clay in the same place in
1844, when the Democrats named Polk.
- In 1835 Romulus M. Saunders intro-
duced the two-thirds rule to the Demo-
cratic convention, and it was adopted.
The customs installed at these earlier
conventions which succeeded the tyran-
ny of the caucus chamber have been
continued and added to from time to
time, and the conventions today are
merely the descendants of those that
nominated Clay and Van Buren.—
Charles Wadsworth Camp in Metro-
politan Magazine.
Horizon.
A man calls it the horizon where the
earth and the sky seem to meet, but a
woman's notion of the horizon is the
families she can see moving in from
behind her front window curtains. If,
further, they hang out their washing
in a spirit of candor, they are, of
course, all the more so. The horizon
is caused by a number of things, chief
among them the gregarious Instinct.
Only for this next door would mean as
little as tariff revision or pure food or
international arbitration. It takes a
star or something of that sort to rise
above the horizon, but a very ordinary
woman may feel above it.—Life.
The Cult of the Hotel.
“Hotel” is a French word, but a
thoroughly British institution. If its
great hotels were suppressed London
would no longer be London—that is to
say, the London of society, the theater,
literature, politics, art and fashion.
The hotel is one of the essential factors
of London life—Milan Corriere Delia
Serra.
A Comparison.
Mrs. Giles (anxiously asking after
rector’s health)—Well, sir, I be glad
you says you be well, but there—you
be one of these “bad doers,” as I calls
‘em (gie em the best o' vittels, and it
don't do ’em no good)—there be pigs
like thet!—London Punch.
First Necessity.
“How would you define a ‘crying
need?” asked the teacher of the
rhetoric class.
“A handkerchief,” replied the solemn
young man with the wicked eye.—Chi-
cago Tribune.
The great and the little have need
of each other.—Shakespeare.
be |
A DISPLAY OF QUICK WIT. |
The American Saved His Pride and
Observed Russian Etiquette.
The Yankee aud the Russian story is
wgzin on its grand rounds, but as all
attempts to name the original Yankee |
have failed, says london M. A. P|
it is safe to pin the anecdote to any
prominent American who may have!
visited St. Petersburg
The Russian has heen identified as
the Grand Duke Constantine, younger
brother of the Czar Alexander 1., and
the incident oceurred about 1810.
The Yankee went ont for a walk in |
when the snow was melting |
efter sudden rain. The street was a
maze of puddles, divided lato sections |
i
by narrow ledges of snow at the cross- |
i
Ings, over which pedestrians carefully |
felt their way. i
The Yankee was just in the middle |
of such a snow bridge when he recog-
nized the Grand Duke Constantine ap- |
proaching in the opposite direction. |
The path being too narrow for two |
persons to pass, the grand duke being |
accustomed to every one getting out of !
his way, the Yankee being too courte- |
ous to turn his back on a brother of
the czar to return whence he came
and too proud to step servilely into the |
slush for a mere prince of the royal
blood—such was the contretemps.
Quick as a flash our American
whipped out his purse, presented it to
Constantine and asked, “Even or odd?”
“Even,” replied the astonished
prince.
“You win!" said the Yankee and
stepped off into a puddle half a leg
deep.
Constantine, highly pleased by this
peculiarly American proceeding, men-
tioned it to the czar, and our Yankee
was Invited to dine at the palace next
day.
HE LACKED TACT.
Bad Breaks of the Man Who Was
Trying to Sell Spectacles.
“The meanest job of my lean days,”
said a millionaire, “was spectacle ped-
dling. 1 still see the sad and scornful
looks, I still hear the reproachful oaths,
which that work brought down on me.
“It was at the seashore. 1 had a
case of spectacles for every age from
forty-five up. 1 paced the beach and
the board walk.
“Once 1 walked up to a lady and
gentleman seated close together on the
sand.
“‘Sir and madam,” 1 said, ‘would
these interest you? The best and
cheapest brand of old age spectacles
on the market. This pair would be
your size, sir—forty-nine years. Lady,
will you try these fifty-four year ones?
“They reddened, and the man told me,
with an oath, to move on. I remem-
bered as I moved that he had been
holding her hand. A seaside flirtation.
Of course they hadn't liked their
thoughts brought down from love to
old age spectacles,
“On the board walk I accosted a
pretty girl leading an old man by the
arm.
“ ‘Would your grandpa be interested
in these, miss? 1 said. ‘Best glass,
warranted, eighty year size, price'—
“ “Tell him to go, Billy,’ said the girl,
“And as 1 went a hot corn man
chuckled:
“ ‘That, you dub, was Gobsa Golde
and his young bride.’ "—Los Angeles
Times.
A Curious Army Toast.
Of all the British regiments the
Welsh fusileers have the most curious
army toast. It forms part of the cere-
mony of the grand dinner given annu-
ally on St. David's day. After the din-
ner the drum major, accompanied by
the goat, the mascot of the fusileers,
bedecked with rosettes of red and blue
ribbon, marches around the table, car-
rying a plate of leeks. Every officer or
guest who has never eaten one before
is obliged to do so, standing on his
chair with one foot on the table, while
the drummers beat a roll behind his
chair. He is then considered a true
Welshman. All the toasts are coupled
with the name of St. David. It is in
much this way that the toast with
highland honors is drunk. Each guest
stands with one foot on his chair and
one on the table, and the pipers, a-pip-
ing, parade the room.
No Place Fer Dogs.
Is it impossible in Japan to keep a
good dog? 1 have twice had my dogs
disappear in a seemingly miraculous
way. As I am well aware that there
is a great demand for dogskins, espe-
clally those of young dogs, we have
been careful in having our dog watco-
ed. Nevertheless he disappeared this
morning. Almost every foreigner has
lost a dog or dogs, and even a sea cap-
tain who was three days on shore had
his dog poisoned the first day he put
his feet on land.—Japan Chronicle.
The World Is Learning.
Briggs — Do you believe that the
world is divided into two classes,
those who borrow and those who lend?
Griggs — No, sir. My experience is
that two other classes are much more
prevalent—those who want to borrow
and those who won't lend.—Life.
The Difference.
“Pa, what's the difference between a
rhyme and a poem?”
“The person who makes a rhyme
stands some chance of seeing ft
printed, even if it is merely put on a
card to be stuck up in an ‘L’ car’-—
Chicago Record-Herald,
Candor.
“Pa, what's friend!y candor?’
“It is generally the first aid to en-
mity.”—Chicago Record-Herald.
* The good you do is not lost, though
you forget it.—Fielding.
| to a shallow hole
| homelike.
A DESERT PERIL.
Yhe Deadly Clear Water of the Death
Valley Pools.
“One of the chief dangers to travel-
ers in crossing such dreary and arid
wastes as the far famed Death valley
arises from ignorance as to the char-
acter of the iufrequent pools of water
along the route,” said a mining engi-
ner of Denver.
“The tenderfoot, growing faint un-
der a blazing sun, will want to quench
his intolerable thirst when he comes
whose water, clear
as crystal, seems absolutely pure. He
can with difficulty be restrained from
drinking it by some experienced com-
panion, who knows that one draft
will probably cause serious if not
fatal illness. This water, for all its
seeming purity and clearness, is loaded
with arsenic, and many a man has lost
his life by its use.
Curiously enough, the only water in
the desert that is safe to drink is foul
looking and inhabited by bugs and
snakes. When you come to a muddy
pool on the surface of which insects
are disporting themselves, however re-
pulsive it may be, both to the eye and
palate, you may drink it with im-
punity, despite its looks, as a man will
who is érazy with thirst produced by
the burning sands and merciless sun.”
~Baltimore American,
THE PALISADES.
Their Counterpart Cannot Be Found
in All the World,
The edge of the world, if such a thing
may be, lies hardly a rifle shot away
from one of the centers of the world
itself—the city of New York.
The Palisades, those mighty walls
whereon the annals of the centuries
are graved—what an edge of the world
their lip presents to him who comes,
perhaps at night, to their rough hewn
elevation! In no other place other than
this near proximity to man and one of
his greatest cities could a physical fea-
ture so profoundly vast and impressive
be so hidden from the world. Their
counterpart cannot be found in all the
world, and yet the Palisades are almost
unexjpivited and unknown to the globe
circling, sight hunting public that year-
ly traverses the continents or seas to
gaze at things less wonderful in some
distant field of nature's marvelous
achievements, for little does any one
know of these titanic walls who has
merely seen them from the Hudson.
Were they somewhere off In a land
comparatively inaccessible, reached by
a transcontinental thread of steel, the
guidebooks would be rich in their pic-
tured grandeur and man would rove
far to explore them.—Philip Verrill
Mighels in Harper's Magazine.
Superstitions of Stage Folk.
A stock actor is apt to have a
prejudice against decorating or fixing
up his dressing room. He is certain
to get his notice shortly after he puts
his pictures on the wall and otherwise
makes the place comfortable and
Actors and managers both
have a horror of the witch lines in
“Macbeth,” and they never will allow
them to be spoken, as it means a fire
in the playhouse before the twelve-
month is over. Sir Henry Irving was
a firm believer in this superstitition,
and he would never allow the fateful
lines to be read when he was playing
the tragedy. I know many players
who fear to have any one pass them
on a stairway when they are entering
a theater. There are many actors who
make the sign of the cross before they
make an entrance.—Chicago Tribune.
Where They Forgot.
“Once, in the rooms of the Fabian
society, overlooking the fresh green
slopes of the Law Court gardens in
London, I heard George Bernard Shaw °*
express his thoughts about English
public schools,” said a Chicago editor.
“He attacked these schools. He said
you learned nothing in them. He told
of a young peer to whom a certain
master at Eton said:
“‘1 am ashamed of you, unable to
work out so simple a problem! Your
younger brother did it correctly an
hour ago.’
“‘l am sorry, sir; the boy replied,
‘but you must remember that my
brother hasn't been at Eton as long as
I have.’ "—Washington Star.
Got Full Weight.
“Sir,” says the aggrieved customer,
approaching the bookseller, “I have
called to express my opinion of your
business methods.”
“What is wrong?” deferentially ask-
ed the bookseller.
“1 bought a set of Shakespeare from
you last year. It weighed fourteen
pounds. Yesterday I ordered a dupli-
cate set for my son's library, and it
only’ weighs thirteen pounds and nine
ounces. I'd have you understand, sir,
that there is a city ordinance against
short weights.”
Thoroughly humbled, the bookseller
made up the shortage with seven
ounces of miscellany.—Exchange.
Anxious For More.
An expert golfer had the misfortune
to play a particularly vigorous stroke
at the moment that a seedy wayfarer
skulked across the edge of the course.
The ball struck the trespasser and
rendered him briefly insensible. When
he recovered a five dollar bill was
pressed into his hand by the grateful
golfer. “Thanky, sir,” said the injured
man after a kindling glance at the
mouey, “an” when will you be playin’
again, sir?" —Argonaut,
The Snake Bite.
“So Wild Bill died of a snake bite?
Whar did he git bit?”
“Oh, th’ snake didn’t bite Bill. Th’
snake bit Tough Tompkins, an’ Tomp-
kins drank two quarts o' th’ remedy
an’ then shot Bill.”"—Judge's Library.