THE MAN WHO WINS. The man who wins is the man who works — The man who toils while the next man shirks; | The man who stands in his deep distress With his head held high in the deadly press— Yes, he is the man who wins, The man who wins ix the man who knows The value of pain and the worth of woes— Who a lesson learns from the man who fails And & mora! finds in his mournful walls : Yes, he is the man who wins. The man who wins is the man who stays In the unsought patns and the rocky ways, And, perhaps, who lingers, now and then, To help some failure rise again, And he is the man who wins! And the man who wins i« the man who hears The curse of the envious in his ears, But who goes his way with his head neld high And passes the wrecks of the failures by— For he is the man who winx. THE DREAMERS. “You see,’ explained Mrs. Pennington, “1 knew that you had known her when she was a child, so I accomplished one of the miracles of she age and secured her consent to come this afsernoon.”” “Then she is the =ame. She was a dreawy, reticent, sell sufficient little mor- tal always, with no need of playmates, and seldonf apy who care! to supply such a need. What ages ago!” Mrs. Maitland shook her gray head, even as the Sphinx might have dove, “It is likea different lite, with the Atlantic between as the Styx. We have recrossed the black torrent, Ulysses and I, and what changes bave we found !"’ “It is strange you should bave dropped everything of this hemisphere when you went to Evgland,”” said Mr«. Peonington, begioning of a sndden to realize that there were good grouuds for being patrioticaily offended. ‘“‘You were a born American, anyway." “It was George's ill health that made me forges everything,’’ replied Mre. Maitland, with a momentary reflection of the past years’ weariness in ber kindly eyes. “‘It is strange Jodith ever married.” +] think every one was surprised. And be was quite different trom her, fall of life and fond of entertainmens.” Mrs. Pen- niogson fell into the trap easily and forgot her impatience over her friend’s Angliciza- tion in the universal pleasure of frievdly character dissection. “What do vou mean by ‘was’?’ de macded Mrs. Maitland. “Well, after marriage they both settled down, and yon never hear anything about either of them. He is positively submerged in his business, —he never speaks a word of anything else withvas a painful effort, and ghe—she has entirely lost in her obild what little individuality she ever owned.” “Then she bas children ; [ am very glad of that. She always loved them so. How many bas she ?"’ “Only one, I think. She only speaks of ove. a little girl, and apparently a re- markable little person.” ‘‘Have von never seen it?" Mrs. Mait- land looked snrprised. “No. You see, they live in such an ber with her sash tied in fronts. She in- sisted it belonged where the wearer could see is, and seemed to consider it the height of altrnism when [ told her we wear our clothes with a view of pleasing our peigh- bors rather than ourselves.’ As Judith laughed softly, Mrs. Maitland smiled; somehow she felt that she bad heard this story before, and she was won- dering how it was possible. | Once started, Judith ran on without | difficulty. She described the child mi- 'nutely. Truly, thought Mrs. Maitland, is | must bave been identical with ite mother. Judith’s stories of the little girl all rang with the same strange familiarity in Mrs. Maitland’s ear, and in some cases the list- ener seemed to behold the little anecdote enacted before her eyes. Suddenly the | truth dawned upon her with a shock. She | bad heard these things before, she had wis- | nessed moss of the incidents, long helore | vhe Styx, when a little girl lived next door ! 10 bher—a child named Judith. . . | Could it be trae that history repented | isgelt wish such mcourscy of detail? Or | wae Jodith eking out her ohild’s small ad- | ventures with her own infant memoirs ? | The woman talked too seriously, her mind | was soo evidently recounting recent things, for sach a supposition to seem probable. { There wae never a flaw in the story. never | a pause for recalling acts so long past, so vague as those of one's childhood must he- come unless the memory is continually re- . freshed and stimulated. “Why, Jodith, it is vour very self!" | exclaimed Mrs. Maitland at last, Judith stiffened and a look flashed into her eyes that startled the elder woman, | first by its intensity, and then hy her utter | inability to interpret it. | ““Why shouldn't the child be just like me?” said the little woman, and her eyes | glowed strangely Then she turned away her head and smiled between her soft half- closed lashes. “Often,” she added, gently, —*‘often I | play she is the shadow of my childhood come back to me."’ Somehow their little tete a-tete was | hroken ap as this poius, and they had only time later for a mote or less hurried and formal adieu, when Judith left early so | onto a train back to her remote babita | tion. | Mis. Maitland stayed after the others | had gone. She wanted to find out wore about Judith, and Mrs. Peoniogton ap- peared to be competent to supply the in- formation. « | “She has developed passion.’’ said Mrs. | Maitland. “I find her even dearer for it. | I should like to visit ber ; in the rush she | forgot to give me her card, but I knew youn bad is "’ “I'll give yon her address before you go," replied Mr~. Penviogton. “Iv is up- stairs in my desk. Yon see, she pever has is put on her cards; it is so long and clumsy that it would look like s wedding invita. sion or un milliner’s announcement. And do you know, I am half inclined to helieve that she keeps it off to prevent visitors as well.” “Why, it youn think—"' begau the vther, flashing. ‘Ob no, of course not. You and I are different —especially you. I saw her when she was talking to you. She never looked happier or more interested. She'd he delighted to see you, I'm sure, and she has a lovely home, if it were only within sight of civilization.” ‘By the way,” exclaimed Mrs. Mais- land, suddenly, “I baven's the slightest idea what her married name is. I was wo busy watching her and wondering over her out-of-the-way place we've ouly visited them twice ; once was for dinver, and you pever think of children at night affairs. The other time was an afternoon call, but she did not mention the subject, and vou know I am not the one to encourage people to exhibit the perfection of their off=pring. She bas very few visitors, hecanse,a® I said, it ia worse than a trip to Chicago to yet to where she lives. and she herself acldom goes anywhere at all. I heuged her to come thi« afternoon, and it made me posi- tively conceited when sbe accepted. hope she is not going to he late.” - Hall an hour after, Mis. Maitland in- stantly recognized a short, slim figare standing in the doorway, though she bad not seen Judith since she was many times shorter and wore quaint little frocks with blue ribbons. Mis. Pennington introduced them, and the look on the elder woman's face told her she did not need to bother about them for the rest of the afternoon. And, in good sooth, the heart of Mis. Maitland was heating rapidly with all jhe Pleanure and pain of recognition. * There been startlingly little change in the woman hefore her. She had always heen a thin-faced child, with long, deep gray eyes and a mouth that drooped a listle in re- She had a way of fixing her eyes upon the objects hefore her, lingeringly, as one fests the hand. She wasslow of speech, and had heen unusually reticent as a child, therefore Mrs. Maitland had loved her for opening her heart to her in the days before the Styx, and therefore she had hope for the present. © A child is twice as reserved as a wom- an.” thought she ; “if I won her confidence then, why should [ hesitate now? She is utterly unchanged.’’ Not utterly, she perceived later, for the mouth drooped more and the dreamy eyes had ap nnmistakahle look of suffering, not poticeable at first ; and in the hrown hair was a faint sprinkling of gray that served as conclusive corroboration of the other signs. Mrs, Maitland wondered vaguely whether her hushand’s personality might pot have led to their seclusion and ber passionate engrossment in her child. They spoke of casualties as first, hut Mrs. Maitland’s maguetism goon overcame the air of almost childish bashfnlness that had always marked Judith in company, and had added to the illusion of her being en- tirely analtered. Bat in spite of the com- parative intimacy they fell into after a while, it remained for the elder woman to mention Judith’s child. “Mrs. Pennington told me you havea listle girl,” she began, with a genuine ring of gladness in her tone. She was a bit startled when Judith drew back slightly, flashing, before answering with some hesitanoy in her voice : “Did she? You see,—I didn’t think— she had ever seen Judy.” “She hasn't, but she said you told her of the child. [Is is Jodith, too ?’’ There was an irresistible motherliness in Mrs. Mait- land’s tone. Judish found the sunshine presence of her impossible to withstand ; she cast aside all indifference and all reser- vation. When she spoke again, there was a passionate strain in her voice, a mother’s love so deep that it implied tragedy. Her eyes shone with a light that shritled Mus. Maitland. The little nentral-tinted wom- an became almost majestic in the glow of ber emotion. “‘Yes, it is Judith ; she is my ouly child. She looks exaotly like the photographe of me hr might have posed for them , Itisa queer affectation of mine, you might say, bus I like to carry oat the pretense and dress her precisely the way I used to he dressed. One day I found that I forgot to listen when you introduced us. \ “Barrett,” replied Mrs. Pennington '¢ Her busband is the architect ; you've | probably heard of him.” “Heard of him!" repeated the older woman, laaghing slightly. “How could I, uuder the world and beyond the Styx 2" ‘Leicester Hunt Barrest,—why, he's—"' But Mrs. Maitland suddenly interrupted ber, placing her band impetuously upon her companion’s arm “Are they Philadelphians?” she de- wanded. “Yes, be—"' “[ know him! Oh, Lanra, who on this earth would believe it?" The recognition of a name so prominent did nos seem to Mrs. Pennington suflicient wariant for her visitor's excited tone “Why. of conrse you kuow him,’ she said, somewhat impatiently. ‘‘Every one does. It ix not unlikely shat he is known even in England. Why, io Paris—"' “No. that is not what I mean. It was | long hefore,—even before we lived near Judith. I used to know his wother in Philadelphia. They lived very near to me, and as be took a fanoy to my big dog, as all real little hoys were apt to do. he would pay me namberlessimpromptn visits, and we grew to be great chams. I know it must be he, because he used to tell his name on all occasions, and always finished br spelling the I.eicester parr, since it was difficalt. Is is kismer. I see the bare band, even the ar, of Fate. That the two precocicus infants of my yonth should dis- cover each other and marry ! It's like a beautifully connected dream.’’ Mrs. Mait- land rose to go. “Visit them late in the afternoon, so that you will have the chauce of meeting him as well. He gets home around five o'clock, I helieve.'’ soggested Mrs. Peo- vington. “I almost envy you your dream. You see, it doesn’t take long to renew the old-world life after having recroseed the Styx. Wait until I get you the address.” In writing, the address was an odd mix- tare of numerals, Euglish vature stndy, and Indian poetry, after the manner of all saburban addresses In reality it was a rather large, low country house, situated in the centre of extensivegrounds, theatrical ly lovely in the mellow autumn afternoon, “The very place for shildren,” thought Mrs. Maitland, gazing approvingly about her as she was driven up to the house ; and abe luoked eagerly for some sign of the lit- tle white and blue connterfeit of Judith, whose image in her mind bad grown more distinot daily. But all was quiet as she rang the door bell, except for she soft rattle of gravel as the hack that had conveyed her from the station retreated ; and the somewhat violent pumpings of her heart marked ihe veconds. When Judith appeared the flush of sar- prise was still on her cheek. but in her eyes shone nomistakable pleasure. “Iam glad you have come,’ she said, ‘Let us sit on the veranda ; it is so pleas. aot there.” “It is heansilul,’ breathed Mrs. Mait- land, as she stood in the low afternoon sunlight, drinking in the glory of the rich trees and the long shadows of the smooth lawn. ‘This is the precise spos in which to educate Judith the Second so that she may become a poet. . . . Whereis she though ?"’ “I'm sosorry you have missed her. She's visiting a friend of mine overnight.” Judith looked almost distressed. ‘You see, she chums with the (friend's daughter, but they don't live near enough to pay ordinary calls.” | This was she first radical difference from she old Judith who bad lived sufficiens unto herself and had demanded no childish comrade. *J am disappointed at not seeing ber,” admitted Mrs, Maitland. “‘I looked for- ward to it as rdoalling an old memory. It was partly y description of her thas led me to brave perile of the journey out here withous an explicit invitation from you. “It is a pity,” mormored Judith, and Stopped abruptly as if she bad more to sy. “I shall be entirely hovess, now shat I bave begun,” smiled the other, confiden- tially, after a shors pause. *‘Little Judith certainly did add to my desire to come here, hut I had another motive as well. I have made a remarkable discovery."”’ ; “A discovery ?"’ repeated Judith, flash. Dg. “Yes, ooncerning your husband. It seems that [ have been acquainted with bim even longer than with you. I knew him ages ago in Philadelphia, when he was a very small child.” “You did ! When ! How old was he ?"’ The loving eagerness in her voice as she spoke of her hushand convinced Mis. Mait- land that the tragic lines on the young woman's face were not due to any delin- gneucy of his ; still, at one time Judith’s wanner pozzled her considerably. “He used to recount long-drawn-oeat ro- wances to me,’’ Mrs. Maitland was sayiou. “They generally began with a pirate xhip that had for a cargo bears and lions, some- how. Then there wasa white-heard maui- cian mixed up in it, until I arsed to be sure he bad become acquainted with Merlin in some mysterious way. They never ended ; they wete too heautiful and too real to bim | for that. He had a wonderful imagination for #0 active a child.” And bere Judith langhed, a soft little laugh with a catch in it, and theo sighed. | “He put it all into bricks and stone and | iron,”" she replied, with a rather pathetic attempt as sprightliness. ‘It’s looked up ! in them like the Prince in the iron chest | shat Judy is wo fond of. He isa business wan wow, an architect with a name. If he dreams he dreams of louie columns and steel construction.” Here, then, was the rnb. It seemed strange to Mrs Maitland that all the glorious imagination had been crushed ons of Barrett when he probably ueeded it wost. +I want to meet him again,’ «he said. “You mast stay over for the five thirty | srain. He always arrives here hy five It won't be long now. ['m atrmd you'll find him changed, though.” Judith smiled again as if with an ouderstandiog to an inner elf. During a very dainty little tea that followed they chatted even more intimate ly. Mrs Maitland told endiees tales of the voung Leicester, and recalled bit of Judish’s life that Judith the Second bad not performed for the refreshing of her mother's memory. | Five o'clock arrived before they were aware of iv, and with is came Leicester bimeell. He seemed surprised to ~e- a | visitor, and, natarally enough, did not tind | anything familiar in ber name or face when Judith introduced her simply as Mrs. Maitland. “I am glad to meet youn,’ he said, with some vagneness. “I met your wife after a very great in. terval of time,’ declared Mre. Maitland. “I had wot seen her since she was a wee little girl. I knew you, too, longer ago thao you can possibly remewber. So you see I feel a8 if you were both my children. When Judish told me of your baby I came here to find ont which of you it resembled most ; bus my plan bas been nipped io the bod, since the chile is not at bome."’ There was a minote's silence. Jodith wae leaning against a pillar of the verauda, aud her face was as white as her dress. She caught her lower lip in her teeth, and her eves, large with pain aud hopelessuess, were fastened upon ber husband. He started and looked at her for an instant, then seemed to choke down something in his throat. He tursed to Mis. Maitland al- most genially. “Iam sony you did not see him,’ he exclaimed. ‘You could not have helped recognizing me in every move he makes.” Judith exhaled a soft trembling gasp, like the commencement of a sob. The ten- sion of her figure slackeved, and the hope- lesspess in ber eyes turned to bewilder- went and somtehing else. Mrs. Maitland averted her head and tried not to blush for them. Meantime Barrett seemed to be sun- dering dreams with heavenly ingentious. “His name 18 Leicester Hunt Barrett, the same as mine ; and by Jove ! you could pot have told ns apart at oneage ! He looks just like me, and Jndy bas a queer mania for dressing bim the way I used to be dressed. Were yon the person I used to tell fairy tales to ? He does the same to me. We walk atoand the grounds every even: ing before diuner, and he strings ‘em out to me galore. All about pirates and wild beasts and a wise old magician chap—"' “Leicester I" gasped Judith, in an odd voice, "this is your very sell I" ret, with feverish abandon. *‘Olten I play he is the shadow of my boyhood, come back.” Mrs. Maitland’s eyes smarted with an- shed tears ; like the wings of a ministering angel, she heard the opportune sound of wheels on the giavelled driveway. “There's my carriage, —I must catch my train,” whe stammered, hysterically. “Next time I come I shall want to see—to know both obildren.”’ She paused and took their hands. bi § can,” she affirmed slowly, in a steady voice looking from one to the other. “I can.” They watched the back disappear in the distance, shen they glanced at each other. Judith's eyes were overflowing. “I told her it was a girl—bamed Judy,” she whispered, huskily. ‘'I never guessed . . . I never kuew . . . in that little lone- some walk . . . before dinner . . . Why didn’t you tell me ?"’ He took her in his arms gently, as il they had just mes after a long separation. “How could I tell you, dear? The dreary blankness of it all was auguish enoagh for you to look to—without koow- ing—how I cared. . 3 “Leicester,” said Judith, softly, ‘‘may Judy and I come with you, when you walk about the garden... with the hoy ?'—By Josephine A. Meyer, in Har- per's Monthly Magazine. Mis. R. P. Monfort, of Lebannon, War- ren Co., Ohio, writes : ‘I bave received the Medical Adviser, and very much pleased [am with it. I think it quite a puize to get such a hook for so small a sum. do not think a orisp five dollar bill could tempt me to pars with it. My husband said to me yeterday, “Thas book ie worth five dollars so you.” Dr. Pierce's Medical Ad- viser is sent free on receipt of stamps to pay expense of mailing only. Send 21 one- cent stamps for the r-covered book, or 31 stamps for the cloth binding to Dr. R. | V. Pierce, Buffalo, N. Y. . . “Why shouldn't it be ?'’ demanded Bar- g Fishing for Ball-Heads. No doubt there still are bull-heads. The bess ones nsed to have habitat in the old millpond (or likely enough you called is the “‘slough,’’ or the ‘‘crick,” or “Mad Lake,’ or otherwise christened it “lake ), within nice trudging distance of *‘home.”’ To catoh them required a barefoot hoy ten years old, » sore sole, & ten cent cane pole fitteen feet long, a baking-puwder can of dirt and worms commingled, a line tied to the pole’s stiff tip, a vivegar-jug cork for a hohher, and a book. When along the bank aspot bad heen found not pre-empted by other hoys pres- ent. and when the haking-powder can bad been set down, and the line had heen un- wound from she length of the pole, and a rebellion worm bad heen slipped upon the book, and worm, hook, hobber, line, and almnat pole itself had been thrown with a splash into tae pond (or the “slough,” or the * orick,”’ or she “lake’’), and when the pple and the derogatory comments arons- had somewhat subsided, then there was a jigule to the cork, making ripples afresh. That is, it “‘they’’ were *‘bitmn’’’ (a dis position of fishy mind most wysterions ) ; and ball heads usually were, At the land end of the pole a hoy,clutch- ing bard the hats, ngid aod intent, glares with hated hreath as the symptoms ; ven- suring only to utter a wild, 1aucons whis- per. “I got a hite!"’ Forthwith. while all the world gazes, at the proper psychological moment he ap- heaves with hoth arms mightily ; and if he has heen blessed hy forsnne, instead of merely incited, at the extremity of the fif teen feet of pole aud the ten feet of line added thereto is hoisted high into the air, sod tern firmaward, three inches of bull head. Slimy and wriggly and wicked, the black imp jerked thus unceremoniously from the depths, small as he is compared with his captor. his captor’s machirery, and the world about, handicapped also by adverse climatic conditions, nevertheless he puts up a fight for his life. He is slippery, he in elusive, he is indefatigable, his ‘‘horns”’ ate ontstanding with rage and as sharp as needles, and he has swallowed the hook ! Oh, strenunnn scene of dogeed defense. on the one hand, and of soramhling offense, punctuated with ‘Ouch I’ and “Ow !"” on the other; and oh, sigh of srinmph when at last, having disgorged the hook from his cavernous galles (so large for a heastie so small), he is strung. Now, in company with fellow anfortanates herded along she cord and tethered to the root or the stake at the water's edge, helplessly he gasps and swave his tail, The sun burns, kingfishers oackle, drag- ouflies perch upon the hohbers. “How many you got?’ “Seven. How many yon?” “I dunno.” Rat, hy the v: ry tone and the evasinn, evidently not seven—yet. However, hope springs #teroal —and a chap | aan epit on his hook.—Edwin L. Sabin, in | Lippincott's Men Born 1809. Munsey’s Magazine makes mention of great men whose centeoaries will be cele- bras-d next year. They are as follows: Felix Mendelsohn Bartholldy, the great German masican, horn Febroary 3rd, 1809. Edgar Allan Poe, the famons American poer and writer of tales, horn January 19th, 1809. Abraham Lincoln, sixteenth Presidens of the United States and one of the greatest figures of American history, born February 12th, 1809 Edward Fitzgerald, the translator of Omar Khayyam, horn Mach 31st, 1809. Richard Monckton Milues (Lord Hough: ton). statesman and poet, born June 19th, 1809. Oliver Wendell Holmes, the American puet and essayist, born Angort 20th, 1809. William Ewart Gladstone, the famnas R-itish statesman, hon December 29th, 1809 Alexander William Kinglake, the histor- ian of the Crimean War, born August 5th, 1809. Frederic Francois Chopin, the famons Polish musician, horn March lst, 1809. Allred, Lord Teunveon, the foremost English poet of the Victorian era, bore Auogsut 6th, 1809. Charles Darwin, the English naturalist, chief fonnder of the theory of evolation, born February 12th, 1809. ——The September Century's leading article is the first popular account given to the publio of the Wright Brothers’ aero plane, written by themselves and liberally illastrated with piotures from photographs supplied by the aathors, Their experi- ments—which are among the most inter esting and important now being carried on in the scientific world—place these men at the head of American aviators : and their article is of special interest in view of the fact that they have contracted to deliver to the United States government a machine, the trials of which are planned for late Au- ust. Of far reaching interest and importavoe in the September Century is the discussion of “The Future Wheat Supply of the United States,” by Edward C. Purker, of the University of Minnesota Agricul tural Experiment Station. He points out the many means which may be utilized to meet the future demands for wheas,pioph- esying that agriculture, still only in its in- fancy, is bound soouer or later to have a rapid and widespread development, aud shat she limit of ite possibilities will be ex- tended by each wunoceedine generation. Sinoe writing the article Mr. Parker has been called to Manchuria by the Chinese auihiouisies to organize an experiment sta- tion. -—- Quite the most interesting hit in the alluring pages of the September St. Nich- olas is the story of how that dearest of all children’s classics, ‘‘Alice in Wonderland," came to be written, told hy Helen Mar- shall Prast. It is a charming tale of the friendship of a quiet, reserved, hookish young lecturer at Christ Church College, Oxford, and of three dear, dear children, daughters of the dean of the cathedral. “So little did the author understand what a wonderfully ingenious and fascinat- ing book he had written, that he did not expect the first edition would ever be sold. But the swo thousand hooks were very quickly disposed of. Every one wanted to read ‘Alice,’ and to have his friends read it. Is has hecome a classic and holds a place on children’s hook shelves with ‘Robinson Crusoe’ aud derson.’ ‘There is not a spot in the civil- ized world, not a library with any preten- sion to literature where the Jabberwosk and the Cheshire Cat ere unknown." The frontispiece of this September issue is a reproduction of Elizabeth Sparhawk- Jones's ‘Roller Skates,” which was ex- hibited at the one hundred and third ao- nual exhibition of the Penveylvania Acad- emy of the Fine Arts. "Subscribe for the WATCHMAN. ‘Haus Christian An- y U. 8. Civil Service Examinations. Competitive Examinations Under the Rules of the | U. 8 Civil Service Commission, for the Following Positions will Soon be Maid Throughout the United States. Aid, Coast and Geodetic Snrvey. Apprentice, Bureau of Eugraviog and Printing. Assistant examiner, Patent Office. Bookkeeper (male and female), Depart mental Service. Civil engiueer, Departmental Service. Civil engineer and draftsman. Civil engineer aud superintendent of con- struction, Clerk (male), Isthmian Caval Service. Compater : Nautical Almanac Office. Naval Observatory. Supervising Architect's Office. Dreftsman : Architectural, Supervising Architect's Office. Copyist, topographic. Engineer, Supervising Architect's Office. Heating and ventilating. Junior architectural. Topographic Electroty pe tinisher. Electrotype wolder. Engineer, [ndian Service. Farmer. Farmer, with knowledge of irrigation. Fish cultunise. Law Clerk. Local and assistant inspector of hoilers. Local aud assistant inspector of hulls. Matron, Indian Service. Pharmacist, Pablic Health and Marine- Hospital Service Physician, Indian Service. Physician, Isthmian Canal Service. Po<tal Clerk, Isshmisn Canal Service. Scientitic assistant, Department of Agri- calsare. Steno-rapher, Departmental Service. Stenographer and typewriter,all services. Saperintendent of constraction. Snigeon (noting assistant sargeon Pab- lic Health and Marine-Hospital Service and sargeon Coast and Geodetic Survey ). Teacher, Indian Service. Trained naree, Indian Service. Trained nurse, Isthmian Canal Service. Trained nurse, Philippine Service. Typewriter, Departmental Service. Veterinary inspeotor, Department of Ag- rioultare. Application forms and information in re- gard to these examinations mav he obtain- | U. 8. Civil Service nD C, or the ed hy addressing the Commission, Wa-hington. Secretary of the Board of Examiners at | Philadelphia. Pa. How to Make n Rabbit Hutch. The cheapest and least offensive pets are rabbits. They multiply so fast shat it doesn’t pay dealers to keep thew. Rabbit breeding is a hoy’s indastiy. Iu every sabarb, town or village there ix a boy from whom you can huy a pair of white or brown sud white rabbits tor fifty cents. They oan be kept for almost nothing. be- canse they eat vegetable refuse from the kitchen, stale bread and very little grain, In spring plant twenty oents’ worth of Swiss chard seed. Cat the outer leaves for the rabbits aud yon need no other greens for them. In winter there are cabbage husks, celery tops and potato parings To make a ranhit hutch ont a small door- way ina box near the floor so that the rabbits can rau in and ons. Have the ceil ings high for air and hinged on, so it can he opened and the hedding removed aod the place thoroughly oleaned dnce a week. Set the hutch on posts at least a foot high Then rats can’t hide under it, and is escapes dampness, A roo ten by three feet, with a fence two feet high, is suffi- cient for several rahhits. Use one-inch mesh wire fencing, otherwise rats can get in and young rabbits get oat. Rabbits never escape and get into my garden, hecanse I dig out the dirt eighteen inches deep hefore making the rans and lay in a three foot strip of wire fencing ten leet long, joining it with side and end fencing before I fill in the dirt again. Now, they may burrow down a foot and a hall, but they strike the fence it they try to ®e: ons. To overcome the sluggish nature of rah- bits set boards on edge across their 1un- way. Nothing better thav taking hurdles for general exercise. [tie good fan to see them go over. The rabhita soon learn to jump into the hatch from the ground. Then the sloping plank walk can be taken away. Place the rabhit hutoh under an apple tree, if von have one. Rahbite like a shady sitaation in saommer. Don’t keep them in or near a barn or outbuildings. In breeding time exclude the males. which fight and often eat the young. — [James Beckwith. —— References. When you engage a servant, especially in a position of trust, von demand refer- | ences “ou aie not content to just read these refercnoes and take them for what they say. You inquire into their gewuineness. When you po your health into the care of a medicine shonld von not exeroise equal care ? Anybody can claim cures for a medicine. But proof is a different matter. The closest scrutiny of the claims of Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical Discovery is iu vited. Does it cure dyspepsia, “stomach trouble,” weak heart, sluggish liver, worn ont nerves ? Does it enrich and purify the blood and make new life by making new blood ? Handreds of thousands of people testify that it does. Look up the testimony and decide whether you can afford to he sick with snch a remade within reach. ————————— Refused a Preosel. Little Haos was watobing bis father fish from the drawbridge. *‘Pa," he exclaimed as he peeped down into the water, ‘what kind of fish are dose switmamin’ around near der satface?’’ “Dey vas German carp,’’ replied his father, as he hated another hook; “German carp, mive son." Little Hans looked doubtful. 1 don’t helieve ut, pa." “And vy vot?" “Because I dropped a pretzel over-board und dey nefer even noticed us. If dey had been German carp dey vod bat nibbled as, sure.” ——— ——*I'm afraid Miss Pepri has a poor opinion of my intellect.” “On the contrary. I heard ber paying oun high compliment last night.” “Indeed? What did she say?" “She said she had no doubt that there were bigger idiots in the world than you.” Johnny —*‘Does the hen sit or ret ” Ma —**I don’t know or care, but when she oaokles I want to know whether she’s layiog or lying.” — First Roommate—*‘*What’s that you got, hillet doux ?" Second Ditto— ‘No : a bill over-due.”’ Fife, | FOR AND ABOUT WOMEN, DAILY THOUGHT. | I am convinced that skepticism applied to the | tender years of childhood, boyhood and girlhood | fs n corrosive acid, eating deep at all the founda- | tions of character that we wish to strengthen and support.—Lord Roseberry. The Directoire waistcoat promises to last over another season,and provision has been | made for very original and elegant effects | in this regard. Ribbons have heen taken up enthusiasti- eally by milliness durivy the summer, and | in eatin apd velvet are to bave a great vogue iu she winter willivery also. | | Quantities of buttons of every diserip- | gion continue to adorn all the latest modes, | Sleeves bave buttons placed close together | down the seam fiom shonlder to wriss, | while she corsage and skirt aleo possess a | great many hattons; in fact, wany of the | lntgest creations rely entirely lor decor- | ation ou she batton. Buttons of all kinds, bus particularly | those covered with »atin or with the cos- | tawe material, are heing used more lavish- | ly shay ever upon the early sutumu mod- els. Chiffon broadcloth appears in all she | new colorings avd of a lightness and sofs- | ness even surpassing that achieved by the manufacturers last vear. Fancy broad- | oloths in ove tone colorings and woven | satin or chevron stripes are numerous. The time wa# when woman was under ! the despotism of the frilly and the starch- | ed. The time was when she delighted in | she rustle of her silk and lingerie petticoats | and when the latter must be stiff and an- | uncompromising as a brand new college | diploma. That was the good old period | when wowan's approach was as frank as | shat of a road engine and when the vovel- | iss delighted to speak of the (frou-fron of | his heroine's vkirts oo the stairs beyond | which se expectans hero waited. Nowadays, however, all this is changed. | The eutry of woman is heralded no longer | by a poise akin to signboards in a fierce 'noreaster. No longer is her parting in- junction to the lanndress ‘‘get everything i good aud wiff.’? The cling dres« of this | latter day has interrupted the resign of the frou-irou and now skirts must not even | murmar to the floor on which shey fall. | The stiff aud sibilant petticoat bas indeed | gove and in its stead we bave undergar- | ments of supple silks and vnohtrusive ap- | pearance, uudergarments that are lithe and sinuous and serpentine. Delightful little Russian blouse costumes for children. Made of white duck, with piproge, sailor collars, knotted sailor ties and belts of scarlet duck. White duck bats, wish red underbrims. Crowns sofs and round, brime rolliog, so that they may be bent down at auy point and all-over stitched. Small social note paper, edged with deep tints of blue, pink, cerise, green, etc. velopes to match, ohlong iv shape and open at the end. The flap is pointed, but the sealed end bas a square lap. Foreign novelty papers—white envelopes lined with pink or blue, thus finting the outside. White paper, edged with blue or pink to match. Gilt edges the more ex- peusive variety of the ame clase. Another style resembles pale-tinted, finv, figured wallpaper. Juvenile frocks and swart little jumpers for coo! days wade of hurdered cnallie, with the border used as trimming Challie launders beautifully when such renovation is desirable. Mayonuaise Dressing. —Put thé yolks of two egg+ in a perfectly cleun bowl or plate. Add a quarter of a teaspoonful of sale aod add gradnally drop by drop one gill of salad vil. Now add a few drops of vinegar, aud continue adding oil until you have the desired quantity. Add a grain red pepper, and allow in all one sablespoontul of vine- gor to each gill of oil. If you wish the | dressing light in color, a few drops of lem- on juice will give you the desired results. Apricot Brown Betty.—Battrr a deep baking dish, place in it a layer of fine, soft crumbs; add a layer of cavned apricots (evaporated will do,) two tablespoons of sugar, one hall teaxpoon of cinuainon and more crumbs. Repeat this outil the dish ia fall, she upper layer of crumbs. Pour * ever it one-half cup of milk (or one cupful it the fruit isdry), and dot with butter. Bake under a plate half an hour, then re- move the plate and brown. Serve with hard sauce. First it was reported that taffeta might be rabberized ; shen pongee took kindly to ! the process, and vow mohair has hecome | water aud dirt proof. This last isa ureat | acquisition to enthusiastic motorists, for the | material is light aud cool, and at the same | time it wears like wire. Pongee aud silk | may hold their places in the esteem of | womankind for raincoals to be worn $0 | nocial fauctions, but for driving, antomo- | bile and coaching mobair will be tound | snperior. | The prettiest coats are of white, and | many are made in models so charming that no one but the initiated would suspect them of being any more veefal ina storm than a light and lacy opera coat. — i i For early fall or late summer the new styles in soft felt hats may be depended upon. There hats come in all colors of grays, browns and white, and various shapes and sizes. They are trimmed with soft scarfs, wings and net, while some are worn with just a ribbon baud. College women and school girls will be sure to wear them. The Nie Ruffle’ hat of coarse pet, with a bow of the same material on the nght side and a hlack buckle in front, is a distinguished style for any occasion. The net hat made into a severe shape, with folds on the brim aod around the | crown, and trimmed with wings and satin ribhon, is a very practical and becoming wyle for most any one. e satic and silk hats trimmed with the same material, or lace and orushed roses, or wings and buckles, are among the newest styles. For young and old, black hats are very much worn, but must be light and airy, and trimmed very simple. If spoons are stained from eg they oan he cleaned hy rubbing with ammonia; also | by patting them in a bowl of wet ealt.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers