6
GOING ALONE.
With curls In the sunny air tossing.
With light In the merry bright eyes.
With laughter so clearly out ringing—
A laugh of delight and surprise;
All friendly assistance disdaining.
And trusting no strength but lis own,
The past fears and trials forgotten.
The baby is "going alone."
Crow often the help he has needed
Has carelessly strayed from his side;
The hand of the loved one to sustain him,
112 lis tottering footsteps to guide,
fiee. he has fallen while reaching for sun
beams
Which Just as he grasped them have
flown;
ilrtd tears of vexation have followed--
Hut now he Is "going alone."
All through life he will learn
This lesson again and again.
He will cart'.essly lean upon shadows.
He will fall and weep over the pain.
He. will learn what a stern world we live in.
Arid he may grow cold like the rest;
But keep a warm sunny welcome
For those who are truest and best;
Yet not trusting his all In their keeping.
But stronger and manlier grown.
Chastened and taught by past sorrow.
<He learned to walk bravely "alone."
And yet not alor.e, for our Father
The wandering footsteps will guide
Through all the dark waves of earth life.
And over the river's deep tide.
Ah! here is a strength unfailing.
A strength we can perfectly trust.
When all human aid unavailing
The "dust shall return unto dust."
—Katharine C. Ackerman, In Banner of
Gold.
| A CLEW BY WIRE |
*25 S*
•S Or, An Interrupted Current.
I 1
5 BY HOWARD M. YOST. |j
S Copyright. 1596, by J. B. Lipplneott Co.
CHAPTER IX.—CONTINUED.
Sarah greeted me effusively. The
good soul seemed to have a constant
fear that each time she saw me would
be the last.
"Can you let me have a saw, a chisel
and a hammer?" I asked.
"Acli, yes. Bud vhat for, Nel?"
"I am going to find out what is in that
■cellar," 1 answered.
"How you ged in?"
"By cutting through the floor."
"Dat will be hard work, Nel. De tim
ber under de floor is awful thick."
"I know that. But I have plenty of
•time, and so will be able eventually to
.get through."
The tools were produced, and I start
ed homeward, Sarah sending after me
.an earnest appeal for carefulness and
£he. avoidance of danger.
.1 intended to commence the task of
getting into the sealed apartment im
mediately upon my arrival home. The
thought that danger of some kind
might lurk in the cellar would not deter
me. And the pistol-shot I had heard the
last night seemed to indicate that there
\ might be a degree of peril in the Work.
>1 did not like the idea of the dank,
imusty odors ascending into my sleep
ing apartment, but I could easily re
move to one of the spacious chambers
upstairs, and thus escape them.
On arriving at the house, I took the
toots into my room. I looked over the
floor, and, after quite a time debating
where the hole should be made, deter
mined to begin over in one corner. Be
fore I had time to commence opera
tions, a loud knock sounded on the
front door.
Hastily shoving the tools under the
"bed, I went out through the hall and
opened the door. My visitor was Mr.
Sonntag.
CHAPTER X.
T ushered the old lawyer into the
room. After a few commonplace re
marks he said: "That walling-up of
those cellar doorways has made quite
an impression on me. Suppose we
»have a look at them."
I was very willing. Together we de
scended the stairs to the storeroom.
Mr. Sonntag examined the place
where the door had been, minutely,
aa though he expected to find in the
stones of the wall some intimation of
what was on the inside. He even went
«o far as to scratch off patches of the
whitewash.
"It is rather dark here," he finally
said, glancing around.
"Perhaps the door can be opened," I
suggested.
"I have the key with me, but maybe
It would be best not to use it. Give me
a. few matches."
1 handed him all I had with me, and
he, by the light afforded, examined
closely the places where he had
scratched off the whitewash.
While watching him, the thought
again occurred to me that I had seen or
met him previous to sny arrival at Nel
son vi lie.
"Do you know it seems as though I
had seen you before?" I said.
**Yes, so you remarked during your
visit to my office yesterday," Sonntag
replied, as he stepped back to where I
was standing.
"There is no doubt of that being a
solid wall," he went on; "so if the
room behind it is being used for some
purpose, entrance is not gained from
here. See what pains have been taken
to hide the work. The whole wall has
been newly whitewashed. If that had
not been done, the new mason-work
would be glaringly perceptible. Let us
go into the house cellar and have a
look at the dividing wall there."
It needed but a glance to see that this
wall had not been tampered with. The
whitewash was old, and there was no
spot where it had been renewed.
•*£ have already examined the out
side place," the old lawyer remarked,
as we ascended the stairway.
"That was not whitewashed, and, if
E lemember rightly, the stones used
Looked old and worn like the rest of the
foundation," I said.
"Yes; the stones used In both the
doorways were old ones. But they are
of a different kind of stone," he re
marked, with a shrewd smile.
"Different kind? What significance
would that have?"
"All the stone quarried about here is
limestone. You will find the founda
tions and walls under your house are
built with this kind. If any other kind
was used it would have to be brought
from a distance. Sandstone was used
for the two doorways."
"And was therefore brought from a
distance?" 1 asked.
"Perhaps not in this case."
"But you said there is nothing but
limestone quarried about here," 1 sug
gested.
"And that is true. The Etones used
in the doorways had been used before,
for they are old and weatlverbeaten.
Do you remember a small stone build
ing up at the mountain, which years
ago was used as a schoolhouse?" my
lawyer asked.
"Oh, yes! It was known as the
Mountain school," I replied.
"Well, it is fast going to ruin," Sonn
tag continued; "has not been used for
years, I am told. The point is here:
That old schoolhouse was built of
sandstone. Where the builders got the
stone I, of course, cannot say, but evi
dently not around here. It is my be
lief the stones in the two doorways
were taken from the old tumble-down
schoolhouse."
"And supposing your surmise is a
correct one, does it furnish you with a
clew to the person or persons who did
the job?" I asked.
"Perhaps," he replied, shortly.
As he raised his head to answer, rec
ollection flashed upon me. "Ah!" I
exclaimed. "I have been cudgeling my
brain in the endeavor to remember
where I had seen you before."
lie quickly turned toward me with a
half-smile on his face, but offered no
reply.
"I have seen you in Philadelphia," I
continued.
"Possibly. I used to live there before
coming to Twlneburgh," he remarked,
indifferently.
"You have been in Twineburgh but
six months," I went on.
"Yes."
"And I saw you for the first time
about a year ago. I almost knocked
you over as I was coming out of the
president's office in the Safety security
bank. You were just going in, and I
ran into you."
"Ah, possibly. I have had business
dealings with that concern," the old
lawyer replied.
"And you knew Mr. Perry, the presi
dent?"
"Yes, slightly."
"Then why did you ask me at the
time if I was the president?" I asked.
Sonntag gave a twitch of the shoul
der, and his shrewd sharp eyes
twinkled.
"Did I ask you that?"he queried.
"Do you not remember?"
"Can't say that I do," he replied.
"It seems strange you should leave
the city to engage in the practice of
law in a small town like Twineburgh,"
I said, musingly.
"Why strange?" was his curt ques
tion.
"Oh, well, you are quite advanced in
years, and, with your long experience,
ought to have commanded a larger and
more lucrative practice in a large place
like Philadelphia than in a small coun
try town."
lie did not reply for a few moments,
but stood with a whimsical look on his
face with his eyes turned toward the
floor.
"I became tired of city life," he finally
said. "1 have no family depending upon
me, and so am at liberty to follow out
any whim which happens to take pos-
Mr. Sonntag examined the place minutely.
session of me. There is enough business
here to enable a single man to live well,
besides allowing him more leisure. I
was looking for such a business, and—
and found it in Twineburgh."
"Well, you certainly are an odd fel
low, if you will excuse me for saying
so," I remarked, with a laugh.
"Yes, I am rather odd."
When we reentered my bedroom,
Sonntag's quick eye caught sight of the
tools under my bed.
"Going to cut through the floor?" he
asked.
"That is what I intended to do. I'm
going to know what is down there," I
replied, decidedly.
Then I told him about the noises I
hud heard which had seemed to come
from beneath, the slamming of the
door, and the pistol shot. I also told
of the voices I had heard both in the
attic and in my room, and all I had ob
served regarding them.
The old lawyer listened intently, and
when I had finished walked to the win
dow.
"Do you suppose that the sound of the
voices could in some way have come
from the telephone wireV : I finally
asked.
"Not being an electrical expert, I can
not say," Sonntag answered, turning
from the window.
"It seems impossible the voices could
be heard without the aid of a receiver,"
I remarked.
"Perhaps there is a receiver both in
yotir room and upstairs—not like the
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, APRIL 28, 1898.
ones we are accustomed to, of course,
but one formed by nature. Certainly
there are possibilities in electrit force
which we have not yet discovered. Yju
say the sounds occurred only when a
wind was blowing which caused the
wire to swing against the lightning
rod ?"
"That was surmise, for I have had no
opportunity to watch when tlie wind
blew. But it seemed the most natural
explanation of the Tappings."
"And you had no way of ascertaining
whether the sounds in your room here
and in the attic were produced by the
same voice and at the same time, or
whether there were two voices inde
pendent of each other?"
"Why, you know it was impossible for
me to be in the attic and in my room
too." I answered.
"Perhaps we may be given an oppor
tunity to find out something about the
voices," Sonntag said, with a gesture to
ward the window.
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"There is a thunderstorm coming up.
It will undoubtedly be preceded by a
wind," the old lawyer said.
"Ve3, yes! How fortunate it is that
you are here!" I exclaimed, excitedly,
for I comprehended his meaning l .
"Mow you remain here, and I will go up
to the attic," I went on. "Each of us
must note the exact time the sound is
heard. We had better compare watches,
so that there shall be no difference in
each one's estimate of the time."
I pulled out my watch and approached
Sonntag. His hand went up to his vest
pocket and he was about to follow my
example, when upon our hearing came
that small, soft, high-pitched voice.
We stood gazing into each other's
eyes for a moment, then I made a rush
for the door.
The lawyer detained me, and in great
impatience I waited.
"Take paper and pencil with you," he
said. "Jot down the words and indicate
the raps in the exact order that they
come. I will do the same with the
words and pauses. Now go."
I went up the two stairways on the
jump. The wind was coining tip strong,
and the heavy thunder rolled in the dis
tance. Near the small window, where
I had heard the voice, I took my stand.
The raps from above were louder now,
and besides, in the daytime, lost a great
deal of the uncanniness which the
gloom and solitude of night had given
them.
The voice was Bounding, though not
as distinctly as before, which was prob
ably on account of the loud moaning
and whistling of the high wind.
My paper and pencil were ready, and
I listened with strained attention to
catch the words.
This is what my paper showed:
"Never will (rap, rap, rap) consent
under existing (rap, rap —a grating
noise, probably caused by the wire be
ing held against the lig'-'ning rod by
the force of the wind) the property re
moved (raps) place to bring you (raps)
hid where (raps) never find (raps) talk
wisdom I shall (raps) night and take
(raps) dollar will you ever—"
Right here the garret wan flooded by
a blinding glare, and immediately fol
lowed crash on crash close above me.
Stunned by the noise and too dazed
for the moment to realize that the
threatening storm had burst, I feebly
tottered toward the stairs and sank
down upon the top step.
The rain was coming down in tor
rents and the roar on the roof seemed
but an echo of the thunder. I was soon
able to arouse myself from my dazed
condition, and, remembering the ob
ject of my errand, went back to the
spot where I had stood to recover the
paper and pencil, which had fallen
from my hands. There was no desire to
continue investigations while the storm
lasted; so, picking up the psiper, I
hastened downstairs to my room.
I noticed a strange odor as I went
through the doorway, and saw Sonntag
standing in the middle of the room in
a strange attitude. The pencil he had
used was still in his hand, but the paper
had fluttered to the floor.
The old lawyer not seeming to notice
my approach, 1 tapped him on the arm.
He gazed around at me with wide, star
ing eyes, then drew a long breath.
"What was it that happened?" he
finally asked.
"Oh, did you catch it, too? Nothing
but a little demonstration of electrical
force," I replied. "It was quite close
to us. The house must have been struck
by the bolt; or perhaps the lightning
rod saved it."
"It was awful!" the old fellow ex
claimed- "There was a stream of fire
reached half way across the room. It
came from the Wfill there, right near
the chimney. Well, it's over, and neith
er of us hurt." The old fellow shook
himself together. "After this, no more
experimenting in electricity for me, es
pecially during a thunderstorm. I'll
stick to—to the law," he said, with a
flash of his bright eyes which told me
he had recovered from the effects of
the shock.
"Then you did not take any note of
the voice?" I remarked.
"Yes, yes. Here it is; and you?—ah,
that's good. Now let us compare."
The two slips of paper were laid on
the table. "The first words taken note of
on my paper," Sonntag began, "are, you
have my—then a pause, and yours are:
Never will. Ah!" he exclaimed, in deep
satisfaction, "they seem to run along
well together. Now you begin and read,
and where the raps are indicated pause,
and I will putin my words. Let's see if
we can get any sense out of it."
This is what we read:
"Never will—"
"you have my —**
•'consent under existing— *
"circumstances you have Broken
faith with me in every—"
"way why was—"
"the property removed— **
"from the original—"
"place to bring you—"
"to time what did you do with it
safely—"
"hid where— **
"you can—"
"never find-—"
"it unless you—"
"talk wisdom I shall—f*
"go for it this very—"
"night anil take—"
"it away and not one— **
"dollar will you ever —"
"Bight here is where the shock
came," I said, after reading the last
phrase. "Of course I took no more
notes after that. Have you any more?"
"No. The flame came, and 1 got no
further," Sonntag answered. "This
certainly is curious. There seems to be
a complete circuit formed somehow, or,
more properly, two circuits; when one
is closed the other is opened by that
closing, and vice versa."
While making the foregoing remark
the old fellow was leaning over the
table, intently scanning the two papers.
"You say a flame shot out into the
room?" I asked.
"Yes."
"From where?"
"Between the window nnd chimney, it
seemed to be," he replied, without lift
ing his head.
I stepped over to the place indicated.
There was a large nail sticking in the
Wtaara t had heard the voice I took my stand.
jvall, which had been covered with
whitewash. A flannel coat which I had
hung on the nail the night before was
now lying on the floor, a charred ruin.
The nail itself was blackened, and
was quite hot, as contact with my
fingers told me.
"Great heavens!" I exclaimed, start
ing back, "this is the strangest phenom
enon. What a wonder the house is not
ablaze!"
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
EXTRACTING INFORMATION.
tloiv Mr. Spurgeon Prepared Ills Ser
mon*.
The man who sits in a city railway
station at the "Bureau of General In
formation" must, like "the little busy
bee," gather honey "from every open
ing flower." When off duty, he should
be refilling his memory with all sorts
of knowledge, for at the bureau he
must be "on tap" to every man, woman
or child thirsting for information. A
similar burden rests on lawyers in
large practice, and on clergymen whose
popularity makes the public theii
parishioners.
That eminent preacher, the late
Charles H. Spurgeon, was once asked
by an American visitor, who had no
ticed that an orphanage, a theological
school, a church, and many correspond
ents kept him busy from morning to
night:
"Pray, Mr. Spurgeon, when and where
do you compose your sermons?"
"I am always at that," replied the
preacher. "I get something from every
one I meet. I shall suck a sermon from
you before I am through with you."
A distinguished British seaman, the
late Admiral Sir George Tryon, used
to act on the preacher's rule. When
secretary to the British admiralty he
was obliged to pay the penalty attached
to the post, of dining at city banquets,
guild and private dinners. Being in
vited to more dinner parties than he
could goto, he used to pick and choose
among them. His wife, for a long
time, was ignorant of the rule which
guided her husband in refusing certain
invitations and accepting others.
At last she discovered that he ac
cepted only those invitations which
would lead him to places where he
might meet some one who could give
information of value to him in his pro
fession. lie cared nothing for the gos
sip which makes up the talk at a fash
ionable dinner party, but he was on
the lookout for useful information, and
was ready to extract it from any source.
Like Spurgeon, he learned something
from everybody.—Voikth's Companion.
A Mean Pnmon.
When Wilberforoe became rector of
Brightstone, in the Isle of Wight, he
was waited on by an old farmer, whose
one desire in life was to rent the glebe
land. "Why?" asked Wilberforce.
"Well," said the old fellow, with a look
of business shrewdness, "when t'other
parson was here, he used to farm it his
sclf, and, ther« being so little of it, he
always got in his hay before anybody
else. Then he clapped on the prayer
for raiu."—San Francisco Argonaut.
An Old StoiT,
Frank —Some genius in Birmingham
has invented a buttonless shirt.
Billy—Why, that's old. I'v«» worn
them ever since my wife learned to ride
a bike. —Tit-Bits.
TLe In fun t I'laiM.
"Bobby Longears, give the plural for
•child.' "
"Twins." —L'lllustre de Poche.
COLUMBIA BEVEL-GEAR CHAIN
LESS FACTS.
Stevens' Institute of Technology.
Department ol Texts.
Hoboken, N. J., March Xlth, ISOB.
Pope Manufacturing Co., Hartford, Conn.
My Dear Sir: 1 send you herewith the re
sults in detail of my investigation of the
efficiency of your chainless wheel No 6u3.
which was referred to in the article on the
Overman dynamometer published in"The
American Wheelman," December 23, IVj7,
as affording an efficiency of only 83.9 per
cent, at ol pounds pedal pressure and
about live miles per hour. The substance
of the detailed report is as follows:
The wheel was tested by me in connec
tion with youi engineers before it was sent
to Chicopee, and found to be fuiiy equal
in efficiency to your best chain wheels.
After its return from Chicopee I examined
the wheel and found it badiy out of adjust
ment. Upon readjustment it showed sub
stantially the same efficiency as those at
the first test, and, under conditions as
nearly as posible those I believe to have
existed In connection with the Overman
test, its efficiency wa5 92.7 percent.
My tests wire all made with the Webb
dynamometer, and with the assistance
of your engineers. This apparatus, which
is extremely accurate and delicate, is ex
plained in detail in my report to you which
was published in the "Iron Age" of October
21, 1«97.
Regarding the Overman dynamometer I
knowi but little, as your request that I
might be allowed to witness Mr Overman's
tests was not acceded to by him.
Very respectfully,
(Signed) J. E. DENTON.
Prof. Mechanical Engineering.
Letter from I'rof. It. C. Carpenter, of
fhe Department of Expert mentnl
HnKlnecriiiK. Cornell Lnlveralty, to
L. A. W. Bulletin■
Ithaca, N. Y., March 14, 1898.
Dear Sir: My attention has been recently
called to an extract from a report of mine
in relation to the efficiency of bicycles,
which, from the heading of or from accom
panying references is calculated to convey
the impression that the chain-driven bicy
cle is much mere efficient than the chain
less. The report in question, taken as a
whole will not, I believe, give the impres
sion that there is any material or sensible
difference. The report does show that the
chain-driven bicycle was on the whole
slightly more efficient than the bevel-gear
driven machine, but this difference was
many times less than that due to tires of
different construction and in many cases
less than that due to individual tires of
the same kind and make. It follows from
the fact that riders have been unable to
detect the great difference which existed
In the friction .caused by different tires that
they will be entirely insensible of the small
amount of difference which may be due to
the substitution of the bevel-gear as a
driving mechanism for the chain. I am,
Very Respectfully yours,
(Signed) R. C. CARPENTER
The letters presented herewith from
two such eminent authorities as Prof,
.lames E. Denton and Prof. R. C. Car
penter, stamp as unfair and unwarrant
ed the recent attacks upon the bevel
gear chainless construction, made by
a manufacturer of chain-driven bi
cycles, through advertisements and dis
tribution of other literature.
The bit of inside history conveyed by
these two letters show how easily an
expert report if not given in full, may
be twisted to favor either side of a sub
ject. As soon as these unwarranted
deductions appeared in print. Prof. Car
penter publicly pronounced them un
fair to him and to the bevel-gear chain
less construction. Prof. Carpenter
claims to find by dynamometer tests a
slight but insensible mechanical su
periority for the chain. Prof. Denton,
in his article in the "Iron Age," shows
that no superiority can be demonstrated
by dynamometer tests for either chain
or bevel-gears. Both agree that under
ideal conditions, by the dynamometer
the two mechanisms are practically
equivalent. Our experience, however,
demonstrates that this equality ceases
the moment the bicycles are putin ac
tual service on the road. In a dyna
mometer test the chain-driven bicycle
meets the most favorable conditions,
which do not exist for it on the
road. No bicycle rider need be told
that the moment a chain and sprocket
is exposed to the weather the lubricant
begins to dry, the blocks and teeth to
clog with the dust and mud of the
road and deterioration commences.
Even if protected from the foregoing
influences, stretching will occur with
the best chains and sprockets, causing
back-lash and consequent inability of
the rider to maintain a straight track
in hill climbing, thus necessitating
more exertion. With the bevel-gear
chainless wheel, the high efficiency
shown by the dynamometer continues
indefinitely under actual service. Ow
ing to the fact that its driving mechan
ism is not affected by the weather or
road conditions, and the further fact
that, there is no back-dash, and conse
quently a uniform pressure can be
maintained upon the pedals, this uni
formity of pressure giving the rider
perfect control of the wheel and en
abling him to maintain a straight track,
thus obtaining the benefit of every
ounce of applied power, the Columbia
bevel-gear chainless, by this great sav
ing of muscular energy, enables the
rider to ride at least ten per cent, far
ther with the same effort than he could
on the chain-driven bicycle. Expert
cycle engineers state positively that the
best bicycle chain and sprocket ever
made cannot retain their highest effi
ciency after 700 miles of riding, and
that the rider who desires to concerve
power should not use the same etiain
and sprocket for over 2,000 miles of
riding. After 35,000 miles of road rid
ing a bevel-gear chainless bicycle has
retained its highest efficiency. How
many more thousand miles of riding
the bevel-gears would undergo without
deterioration can only be conjectured.
No radical change in bicycle con
struction has ever caused us so little
trouble as Columbia bevel-gears. We
have had fewer complaints and fewer
difficultioJt than we have ever had with
any new construction during our 21
years exyerisnee in bicycle building.
The change from the ordinary toth«
safety wheel, from solid to cushion
tires, from cushion to pneumatic tires,
and other improvements were not made
without encountering' obstacles and op
position, but Columbia bevel-gears
have proven successful from the t;ma
of their first introduction to the pub
lic.
Up to date we have shipped our cus
tomers over 4,000 Columbia bevel-gear
chainless bicycles. All who have ridden
these wheels admit that they are bet
ter hill-climbers than any chain wheels
yet made. The purchasers of these bi
cycles are unanimous in the opinion
i that in ease and noiselessness of run
ning. in strength and lasting qualities,
in the time saved in cleaning and ad
justing the driving mechanism, they
are vastly superior to any other form of
cycle construction. To ride a Colum
bia chainless bicycle, is to be convinced
of its superiority and to enjoy to tho
fullest the pleasures of cycling.
POPF, MATTFACTURING COMPANY.
March 25, 1808.
" *
A TnnuKhtful I'lirent.
Petted Daughter—Papa, what has
come over you? 1 never had a wish you
were not anxious to gratify, and you
even anticipated my v.ants, and handed
me money for all sorts of things I hadn't
even thought of. P.ut now 1 have to
ask you for every cent 1 need, and you
growl and grumble, and ask iff think
you are made of money, and you rail
at women's extravagance, and invari-,
ably ask me what on earth I did with
the last check, or dollar or dime you'
gave me. Don't you love me any more?
Papa—My darling, I love you as much'
as ever, but you are soon to be married,
and I am trying to gradually prepare'
you for the change.—N. Y. Weekly.
Italaiice.
lie was making a hollow pretense of
being hungry at breakfast.
"Had to stay at the office to balaneei
the books last night, my dear," he re
marked.
She was gazing gloomily out of the
window, and upon the lawn there were
divers tracks.
"I hope the books were better bal
anced than yourself when you got
through," she answered, not without
bitterness. —Detroit Journal.
(In the Vnknn.
Panner —I don't we how you stand
the cold so well, you must have been
born in a very cold climate.
Miner—No. But I got hardened to
the cold in the states.
Panner—llow did you do that?
Miner—l married a woman with cold
foet.—Up to Date.
II Im AHHnrnnee.
01d~~Biilyuns—What assurance have
you to olter that you really love my
daughter?
Anxious William—Why, I have prom
ised to come and live with your family
as a member of it for her sake. I
wouldn't do that for mere money, 'pon.
my word.—Chicago Daily News.
She Mount llunlne**.
Ardent Lover—For ye, my bonnie las
sie, 1 wad lay me doun and dee.
Practical Maid—o, you make me
weary with your imitation Scotch dia
lect, What 1 want is a man who will
get up and hustle for me.—Boston Trav
eller.
DiIMMIMMiIIK « D»lt.
Mrs. P. —I told that girl just what to
do aud ihe hasn't done it at all.
Mr. P. —I presume your orders went
in one ear and right out the other.
Mrs. I'.—Oh, no, indeed! She never
gets anything through her head as
easily as that,—Philadelphia Bulletin.
Only One Omlnnlon.
Landlady—ls the oyster soup to your
liking?
Boarder — I never find fault, madam.
The salt, pepper, water and butter seem
fully up to the standard, but 1 think
you will find that the cook neglected to
use the oysters. —Detroit Free Press.
Not it Popular Klnil.
"They say that ghosts appear in the
windows of that old haunted house
every nig'ht,"
"Boo! I must say I don't fancy that
kind of window shades."—Philadelphia
Bulletin.
Too I'revlou*.
Grace's eyes are full of tears,
She's caught cold, I fear;
She donned her new biking garb
Too early In the year.
<—Up to Date.
AIISOLITELY NOTHINU.
She —But, George, suppose papa set
tles my dowry on me in my own right?
He —Well, my dear girl, it's—er—
nothing to me if he does!— London
Punch.
Serve* as an Alarm.
Ha&sack—A baby is a good thing to
have in the house.
Walker—Yes, if you want to prevent
oversleeping yourself.—Boston Tran
script.
Ilrlef Peace of Mind.
"Clara, 1 love to be wi'.h you." >
"Why, Kdi'th?" . \
"When I'm with you I know you are
not, gossnping about me."—Chicago
Uecoo'd.