6
A MOTHER S SONQ.
While you sleep, I—'watching—hear,
Utile hearts, how strong you beat
With the pure young life-blood. *weet,
Unpolluted yet by fear;
Till my own proud pulses leap,
While you sleep.
Hid behind the fast-closed eyes
What entranced dreams must He!
V.any a lovely fantasy
■Veiled from us who are grown wise—
We, who sometimes watch and weep
While you s-leep.
little hands, that closely hold
Favorite toys which soothed your rest;
Here a doll clasped to the breast.
There a book with tale oft told—
All your treasure safe to keep,
While you sleep.
While you sleep, the calm dark night
Passes by so cruelly fast,
little hearts! Time seems so vast,
is fain to hold you tight.
One more kiss; away 1 creep
While you sleep.
—Constance Farmar, in Chambers' Jour
nal.
I BORN TO SERVE
By Charles M. Sheldon,
Aathor nf "IN HIS STEPS, '• ' 'JOHN KING'S
QUESTION CLASS," "EDWARD
BLAKE," Etc.
—M—Wg«Bll ■— ■ i —a—
(Covy 1 I'Mi, by Charles M. Sheidou.)
CHAPTER I.— CONTINUED.
Vet she hail herself said many times
during her college course in the study
of social economics that service was a
noble thing. And, as she went lip to
her room that night after a long and
tender conference with her mother, in
which the two had grown nearer to
gether than ever before, she seemed
to call to mind the many passages of
the New Testament which speak of
Jesus not only as a household servant
but even as a "bond servant." And it
came to her with heaven-born courage
that if the Son of God became "full
grown" through 11 is sufferings en
dured in ministering to others, why
tnight it not be the way in which she
and all other of God's children should
develop their real lives and grow into
power as kings and queens in the King
dom? It is doubtful if ever before
that evening Barbara had caught a
■real glimpse of the meaning of serv
ice. She did catch something of it
now. She opened her New Testament,
and it was not by chance that she
turned to the passage in Luke, twenty
second chapter:
"And there arose also a contention
■among them which of them is account
ed to be the greatest. And He said
unto them. The kings of the Gentiles
have lordship over themj and they that
have authority over them are called
benefactors. But ye shall not be so;
but he that is greater among you, let
him become as the younger, and he
that is chief as he that doth serve. For
which is greater, he that sitteth at'
meat or he that servetli? Is not he
that sitteth at meat? But lam in the
midst of you ns he that serveth. But
ye are they which have continued with
me in my temptations. And I appoint
■unto you a kingdom even as my Father
appointed unto me, that ye may eat
and drink at my table in my kingdom."
(Luke 22:24-29.)
Then she kneeled and prayed:
"Dear Lord, make me fit to serve,
use me to the glory of Thy kingdom in
the new life before me. Make me
worthy to be a servant, to be like my
Waster. Amen."
So Barbara Clark began her new ex
perience, which profoundly affected
not only her own life for all time to
come, but the lives of very many other
souls in the world. And that night she
slept the sleep which belongs to all
the children of the kingdom, whose
«arthly peace is as the peace of God.
CHAPTER TT.
IT IS SWEET TO TOII,.
It was four weeks after Barbara
Clarlc bad been at work as a "hired
girl" in the Ward family. She was
sitting in her little room at the lack
of the house, writing a letter to one
of her classmates in Mt. Holyoke.
She. wrote slowly, with many grave
pauses and with an anxious look on
her face.
"The fact Is. Jessie." the letter went on,
•after several pages describing a part of the
four weeks' experience, "1 have come to
the conclusion that I am not born to be a
•reformer. It was all very well when we
studied social economics to have our hero
ic Ideals about putting certain theories into
practice, but it is quite another thing to
do It. I thought when I came here that I
might do some great things; but there are
*>o great things about it, just nothing but
drudgery, and thankless drudgery at that.
And yet Mrs. Ward—but I must not say
•ny more about her. I have stayed out
my month as I agreed to do, and to-mor
row I am going to let her know that I can
not stay any longer. I think I shall try a
.place in Bondman's after all. It seems like
a poor.sort o! position, after all the dreams
-we had at Mount Holyoke; but anything
Is better than what 1 have been doing. I
•would not have mother know this, and I
•lave not sr.ld as much to her yet. Poor
mother: She must be disappointed in me.
X am in myselt. 1 am glad you are so well
suited with your school. There is a good
•deal of the blues In this letter; and, lo tell
tbe truth, It Is just as I feel. 'A Hired Girl
for Four Weeks!' How would it read as
title to a magazine article? I might get a
few dollars tor my experiences il 1 chose to
exploit them. Instead of that, I have given
them to jou gratis. Shed a tear for me,
•Jessie, over the grave of my little, useless
experiment in practical economics. Your
classmate, BARBARA CLARK."
Barbara wearily folded the letter,
put it in the envelope, directed it,
stamped it; and then, being hardly
more than a girl, and a very tired
4T' r '> and tit the moment one disap
pointed with herself and all the
world, she laid her head down 011 the
little table and cri»d hard. To tell
"the truth, it was not the first time
t,hthe little table in the little room
at the back of the house had seen
Barbara's tears since she had come
to work at Mrs. liichard Ward's as a
girl."
So this was the end of all her he
roic enthusiasm for service. It had
all turned out in disappointment. To
begin with, tiie weather had been in
tensely hot all the time. The work
was harder in many ways than l!ar
bara had anticipated. Her mother
&ad not beet» well. One week Mr*.
Ward had gone to bed with a succes
sion of nervous headaches. And so
on with ceaseless recurrence of the
drudgery that grew more and more
tiresome. At the end of the month
Barbara had summed up everything
and resolutely concluded to leave.
She had not yet gathered courage
to tell Mrs. Ward. The woman had
been very kind to her in many ways.
But she was not well, and there were
days when things had occurred that
almost sickened Barbara when she
recalled them. When she went down
stairs the next morning after writ
ing the letter to her former class
mate, Barbara had fully made up her
mind, not only to give notice of her
intention to leave, but to give Mrs.
Ward all her reasons why she could
not work as a "hired girl" any longer.
About ten o'clock in the forenoon
Mrs. Ward came into the kitchen for
something, and Barbara, with a feel
ing that was almost fear, spoke to
her as she was turning togo back
into the dining-room.
"I ought to tell you, Mrs. Ward,
that I have decided to leave you. My
month is up to-day, and 1—"
Mrs. Ward looked at her in atrtaze
raent.
"What! You are going to leave?
Why, we are more than satisfied with
you!"
"But I am not with you or the
place!" replied Barbara, so spiritedly
that it was the nearest to an exhibi
tion cf anger that Mrs. Ward had
ever seen in her, during the whole
month.
Mrs. Ward sunk down In a chair,
and a look of despair came over her
face as she looked at Barbara. Bar
bara, with a white face and trembling
hands, went on with lier work at the
table. She was preparing some dish
for baking.
"Why—what—haven't we been kind
to you? Haven't the wages —Mr.
Ward was saying to me this morning
that we ought to give you more. I
am sure," Mrs. Ward continued eager
ly, noting Barbara's set expression,
"I am sure we would be glad to make
it four and a half a week, or possibly
five."
"It's not that," answered Barbara,
in a low voice. She took up the dish
and put it in the oven, and then, after
a moment of hesitation, she sat down
and looked at Mrs. Ward very
gravely.
"What is it, then?" Mrs. Ward
asked hopelessly.
"Do you want me to tell you all
the reasons I have for leaving?"
Barbara asked the question with a
touch of the feeling she had already
shown.
"Have you made out a list?" Mrs.
Ward asked carelessly. It was that
characteristic of the woman that had
oftenest tried Barbara.
"Yes, I have," replied Barbara; and
she added, with a different tone, as if
she had suddenly put a check on her
temper: "Mrs. Ward, I don't want
to leave you without giving you good
reasons. That would not be fair,
either to you or to me."
"I ought to know," replied Mrs.
Ward, slowly. She still looked at Bar
bara sharply, and Barbara could not
tell exactly what the woman was
really thinking.
"Then, in the first place," began
Barbara, "my room is the hottest
room in the house. It is right over
the kitchen, it has no good ventila
tion, and it is not attractive in any
"I DON'T MIND IT DURING THE
WEEK."
way as a room at the close of a hard
day's work."
"It is the room my girls have al
ways had." Mrs. Ward spoke quickly
and angrily.
"Maybe that is one reason you have
had so many," said Barbara, grimly.
The memory of the hot nights spent
in the little back room framed Bar
bara's answer.
Mrs. Ward started to lier feet.
"This is impertinence," she said,
while her cheeks grew red with an
ger.
"It is the truth! You asked me to
give my reasons for leaving. That is
one of them," replied Barbara, calm
ly. "It is true of a good many other
houses in Crawford, too. The small
est, least attractive, poorest room in
the house is considered good enough
for the girl. I know it isn't true of
a great many houses that furnish as
comfortable a room for the servant
as for any other member of the fam
ily. But it is true of this house. I
am not blaming you for it, but who
ever made the house for the express
purpose of planning to give the hired
girl of the house that particular
room, which in this case happens to
be the hottest, most uncomfortable
room in the building."
Mrs. Ward sat down, and again
looked at Barbara keenly. Her anger
vanished suddenly, anil she said, with
a faint smile: "1 don't know but you
are right about that. Will you go
on?"
*'la the second place," Barbara
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, AUGUST 22, 1901.
went on, slowly, "I have not had any
regular hours of work. Four nights
this week I worked until ten o'clock.
Three nights last week I sat up until
11 with the children while you and
Mr. Ward went to entertainments or
were out to dinner."
"But what shall we do?" Mrs. Ward
suddenly cried out despairingly.
"Some one must stay with the chil
dren. And Mr. Ward and 1 have so
cial duties we cannot neglect. I am
sure we go out very little compared
with other people."
"I can't answer your questions,"
Barbara replied. "But I know one
reason why I feel like leaving is be
cause I never know whether my work
is going to end at eight or nine or ten
or eleven o'clock. There is no regu
lar hours of labor in a hired girl's
life, in this house."
"Neither are there any regular
hours of labor in a mother's life in a
home," said Mrs. Ward, quietly. "Is
your burden harder than mine? Or
is it any harder than your own will
be if you ever have a home and chil
dren as I have?"
The sudden question smote Bar
bara as a new one, and in a moment
she felt conscious of an untliought of
i problem in the social economics of
| housekeeping. She had not thought
| it all out, as she had told her mother.
! If the home life was never to be free
i from the necessary drudgery of life,
I why should she complain if in the
| course of service in a family exact
hours and limits of service could not
i very well be determined? She was
i somewhat troubled in her mind to
have the question thrust upon her
I just now. She was not prepared for it.
"In any case," she finally said, re-
J luctantlv, '"the hours are so long and
| so uncertain that—"
| "But you have Thursday afternoon
and nearly all of Sunday. You have
| more real leisure than 1 have."
"But you would not be willing to
change places with me?" Barbara
asked, looking at Mrs. Ward doubt
fully.
"It is not a question of changing
places. I simply want you to see that
| in the matter of time you are not
abused. But goon with the other
reasons." And Mrs. Ward folded her
hands in her lap with a resigned air
that made Barbara wince a little, for
what she was going to say nfrxt
| would in all probability anger her.
j "Another reason why I have decided
|to leave is the Sunday work. During
the four Sundays I have been here
| you have invited in several friends
to Sunday dinner. This makes Sun
! day morning my hardest day."
I"it has happened so this last month,
; that is true," Mrs. Ward confessed
reluctantly; "but it has been rather
unusual. In three instances I remem-
J ber the gentlemen invited were par
ticular business friends of Mr. Ward,
and he was anxious to please them,
'and invited them home t with him
from church rather than send them
to a hotel. But such social courtesies
are a part of a man's home life,
j What shall he do? Never invite a
| friend home to dinner for fear of
giving the girl a little extra trouble?"
; "I don't mind it during the week,"
Barbara replied, thoughtfully, "but ft
does not seem to me to be just the
; thing on Sunday. A good many fam
ilies make it a rule not to have ex
' tra Sunday dinners. Do you think it
is quite fair?"
"We haven't time to discuss it. Go
! on," Mrs. Ward answered, not sharp
! ly, as Barbara thought she might.
I There were traces of tears in the
; older woman's eyes that disarmed
I Barbara at once. The excitement of
i her nervous tension was beginning
; to subside, and the attempt to nar
! rate her grievances in their order was
helping her to see them in their just
light. Besides, Barbara had received
some new ideas since she sat down to
give her reasons for leaving. The
next time she spoke it was with a
feeling of doubt as to her position.
"There is another thing that I have
felt a good deal, Mrs. Ward. You
have asked me to give reasons. You
will not think me rude if I goon?"
"I asked you togo on," Mrs. Ward
replied, smiling feebly.
"Well, during the four weeks I have
been in the family, you have never
invited me to come into the family
worship, and you have never asked
me togo to church with j r ou, al
though I told you when I came that
I was a member of a Christian En
deavor society in Fairview before we
moved to Crawford. I don't inind so
much being left out of the church
services, but I cannot get over the
feeling that as long as I am a hired
servant I have no place, so far as my
religious life is concerned, in the fam
ily where I serve."
Contrary to Barbara's expectation,
Mrs. Ward did not reply at once; and,
when she did, her voice was not an
gry. It was, rather, a sorrowful
statement that gave Barbara reason
to ask herself still other questions.
"There are some places in a family
that are sacred to itself. Mr. Ward
has always said that he thought the
hour of family devotions was one of
the occasions when a family had a
right to be all by itself. Of course,
if friends or strangers happen to be
present in the home, they are invited
into this inner circle, but not as a
right, only as a privilege. We have
had so many girls in the house who
for one reason and another would not
come into worship, even if asked, that
for several years we have not asked
them. But the main reason is Mr.
Ward's. Is there to be no specially
consecrated hour for the family in
its religious life? Is it selfish to wish
ior one spot in the busy day sacred
to the home circle alone?"
Barbara was silent. "I have not
wished 11> intrude into your family
life. I only felt hungry at times to
be recognized as a religious being
with the rest of you. Would my oc
casional presence have totally de
stroyed the sacred nature of your
family circle?"
"0, 1 dou't know that it would,"
sighed Mrs. Wnrd. "I hare only given
j-ou Mr. Ward's reason. He feels
unite strongly about it. As to tlie
church. Do you think I ought to in
vite my servant togo with nie?"
"I would if you were working for
me," replied Barbara, boldly, for slio
was on sure ground now, to her own
mind.
"Are you sure?"
"I know I would," Barbara replied,
with conviction.
Mrs. Ward did not answer, but sat
looking at Barbara thoughtfully. Bar
bara rose and looked into the oven,
changed a damper, and then went
over to the table and stood leaning
against it.
"Your other reasons for leaving?"
Mrs. Ward suddenly asked. As she
asked it, Carl came into the kitchen
and went up to Barbara.
"I want a pie. Make me a pie, Bar
bnra, won't you?" he asked, climbing
up into a chair at the end of the table
and rubbing his hands into the tlour
still on the kneading-board.
Barbara smiled at him, for they
were good friends, and she had
grown very fond of the child.
"Yes, if your mother thinks best
and you will sit down there like a
i good boy and wait a little." Carl at
[ once sat down, only begging that he
| might have the dish that Barbara had
: used to mix eggs and sugar in.
"1 have told nearly all the reasons,
I think," Barbara answered slowly,
! and she turned toward Mrs. Ward.
! "Of course, there is always the rea
son of the social loss. I don't know
any of the young women in Craw
ford; but, if I did, I do not think
that any of those who have money
or move in social circles would speak
I to me or recognize me for myself if
! they ever knew I was a servant."
Mrs. Ward did not answer. Barbara
I silently confronted her for a moment,
i and it was very still in the kitchen
| except for the beating of Carl's spoon
! on the inside of the cake-dish.
"And then, of course, I see no op-
I portunity ever to be anything but a
liired girl. How long would you want
; me to work for you, Mrs. Ward, as I
have been doing for the last four
weeks?"
"Indefinitely, I suppose," answered
Mrs. Ward, frankly.
[To Be Continued.]
SULPHUR MATCH WON BATTLE
An IntercMtlnK Incident of the llnttle
Between the Germuiin a nil French
at Uravclotte,
Tt is said that at the battle of
Gravelotte, during the Franco-l'rus
sian war, there was for some hours at
a critical point of the field an appear
ance of greater success on the part of
the French than of the Germans. Von
Moltke had been made aware of the
perilous position of his forces in that
quarter, and he hurried to the spot.
For some time it was observed by those
.around him that he appeared much
more anxious than usual. He gained a
prominent position, where he was
greatly exposed to the enemy's fire.
He held his cigar between two fingers
of his left hand, from time to time
striking a fusee and applying it to the
weed, but always neglecting to put the
cigar between his lips. When the
crisis of the day was evidently ap
proaching the last fusee had been
burnt, and nothing but the cold ashes
of Moltke's cigar remained. At length
Bismarck's attention was directed to
the great general, upon whose sagacity
the fortune of the light so largely de
pended. Moving up to him, Bismarck
quietly struck a fusee, applied it to
Moltke's cigar, and the welcome sight
of the blue tobacco smoke curling up
from the commander's lips rewarded
the attention of the chancellor. Bis
marck, drawing back in his solid way,
said, with exultation in his voice: "All
must now be well, Moltke smokes
again." The battle was won.
Kimlieilcy After the Siefte.
A city relieved after a siege is a
queer place. Julian Ralph, in "An
American with Lord Roberts," says
that there never were so few horses
in the streets of any modern town as
were to be seen in Kimberley, when
its four tragi;- m n hs were over. Of
course there were no horses; the peo
ple had eaten them. The dogs con
sisted of bones, with n tongue hang
ing out. They looked like frames of
dogs in process of construction.
The shops were open but the clerks
had grown to be as automatic as
cuckoo-clocks. Instead of saying:
"Cuckoo! cuckoo!" they kept on re
marking: "All out, ma'am! All out,
sir!" in reference to the necessaries
of life.
"Milk for my coffee," ordered the
newcomer.
"The regulars has the only milk
there is," replied the restaurant
keeper. "Likewise the jam, and they
won't give it up."
"Give me a match," was the next
request, and the host replied:
"There's the candle. The matches
run out in November."
lie Wanted Too Much.
"You say you thiuk your boy has
too great an appetite," said the physi
cian to an anxious mother. "Do you
realize how much a growing boy can
eat?"
"1 should think I ought to, if any.
body does," returned the boy's par
ent. "I'll just put the case to you,
doctor.
"Where we were, up in the moun
tains, this summer, the waitress would
come in and say to my boy: 'We have
fried fish, steak, liver and bacon, bakeiil
and fried potatoes, rye biscuit, muflij, t
and dry toast.'
"And that boy Ned would say: 'l'b
take it all, please—and some eggs.'
Youth's Companion.
The Woalhar Man.
The weather man is unquestioi
ably a storm-sceuter- —Chicago Dail
New*.
WORK OF THE WORLD
All People, Rich and Poor, Should
Do Their Share of It.
California Juris* Dfclarra It In the
Duty of a Wife to llenr Some of
the Financial licMponalbll-
Itlea of the Home.
Judge Waldo M. York, of Los An
geles, Cal., id not the most popular
man in southern California just now.
He has brought down wrath upon his
head by declaring from the bench
that women should have some of the
responsibility of the support of the
family, and that the husband's failure
to support the wife was not neces
sarily valid grounds for divorce. This
is the judge's ruling:
"A wife might easily earn enough
to support both herself and husband.
I believe that women should bear
some of the responsibility of the sup
port of the family upon their own
shoulders. We ought all of us to
work and do something to keep the
world going. The mere fact that this
woman and her daughter have had
to help support the family is not in
itself sufficient grounds for divorce."
The decision, which is holding first
place with the weather and other
topics of conversation, was in the di
vorce suit of Mrs. Flora E. Stephens
against Henry G. Stephens, which
was decided in favor of the plaintiff.
Mrs. Stephens brought action for
| freedom from her husband on the
, ground of cruelty and nonsupport,
and told a pitiful story.
The wife left the husband, but the
case is one which under the law con
stitutes a desertion by him, as Ste
phens told his wife she would have
to go. They were living at the time
| in East Los Angeles, and she took her
I two children, who were living at
| home, and left the man who had
failed to support her.
Before the Stephens family moved
to Los Angeles they resided at Po-
JUDGE WALDO M. YORK.
(He Thinks a Wife Should Help Support a
Family.)
mona, where the husband's neglect
of and cruelty toward his family
aroused such indignation that the
citizens threatened to tar and feather
him if he did not leave town. The
man has no trade, and, according to
the woman's story, no ambition and
no inclination to work. Since leav
ing him Mrs. Stephens has been com
pelled to take in washing in order to
support the family.
Although poor, the plucky little
woman is ambitious for her children,
and is putting one son through a
college at Healdsburg. The boy, un
like his father, is energetic and a
hard worker, and he is paying a part
of his tuition by working before and
after school hours. The oldest son,
Amos, has a situation in Riverside
county, but does little toward the
support of the family. The oldest
daughter, Mrs. Myrtle Woolacott, is
happily married and does much to
assist her mother. The youngest is
a child of eight.
After these facts had been proved
to the court, Mrs. Stephens' attor
ney, Charles Lantz, submitted the
case, and Judge York rendered his
decision. Touching upon the matter
of nonsupport, the judge said:
"A wife might easily earn enough
to support both herself and husband.
"The fact that the husband has not
contributed to the support of the ]
family without proof of his ability
to do so, or proof of his neglect to
do so by reason of his idleness, prof
ligacy or dissipation, is insufficient to
justify a divorce. Besides, the law
does not contemplate that a poor
man, relying solely upon his labor
for support, should be the only la
borer in the family. In this case
the wife and her daughter, by honest
and honorable employment, were
able to earn a living and had the
courage to do so. Their work was no
harder than that ordinarily done by
laboring people, and for aught that
appears the husband may not have
been able to find employment, and, if
able to find employment, may not
have been physically able to labor.
All people, rich or poor, should do
their part of the work, and not be
drones, whose existence is useless.
"But it does appear in this case
that the husband, prior to the sepa
ration, was extremely cruel to his ,
wife in many ways, and that without
cause he inflicted upon her grievous
mental suffering and physical inju
ries, and upon that ground she is en- i
titled to a divorce.
"I do not look upon this mattetr ol
•women helping to support the family
as such an extraordinary state of af- 1
fairs as to warrant anybody apply- '
ing for legal separation upon that 1
ground." <
j EXTRAORDINARY PLANT.
It Devours Animal Food Greedily
When (iiveil to It in Small auil
| Tasty Morsels.
We all know that certain plants ab
sorb and live on insects, but it has only
recently been discovered that th«r»
• are some curious species of plants
that actually devour animal food whea
given to them in small morsels.
The leaves of these queer plants ap
pear in doublets, like oyster valves.
This double leaf is closed up from its
p base to within about three-quarters
• of its entire length. In the front part
' it is detaclu-d, the two pointed tops
i forming, as it were, a pair of lips, or
a mouth, which the plant can open at
will.
Inside this mouth is a kind of a pas
- sage or throat which extends toward
i f
f
I
MEAT-EATING PLANT.
(Devours Animal Food When Given to It
in Small Morsels.)
, the body of the plant. This passage
has a number of hairy bits about it,
s which are very fuzzy, and at the end
• of each bit there is a sticky substance.
When the plant opens its mouth it
! is evident that the trap is then set, for
> upon any insect entering it the lips
• close upon it at once, forcing it to the
; gummy substance of the throat. This
I substance has properties similar to
those contained in the gastric juices
I of the human stomach, which help to
• decompose and digest the food. When
so digested the food resolves itself
into a liquid which is carried all over
the plant to nourish and revive it.
The most marvelous thing about this
newlj'-discovered species, says the
New York World, is that it can digest
such food as small morsels of beef, fish
and egg gelatine, some of which,
dropped into the open leaf, were re
tained and apparently digested. At
the same time anything of a starchy or
fatty substance the leaf or plant is
not able to retain. It does not, there
fore, close its lips upon it, and if al
lowed to remain in the mouth the
plant will decay.
FORTY YEARS A JUDGE.
John .lay Jackson, Jr., of West Vir
ginia, Has Sat on Bench Longer
Than Any Other Man.
Judge John Jay Jackson, Jr., of
Parkersburg, W. Va., celebrated the
fortieth anniversary of his appoint
ment as judge of the United States
district court of West Virginia on Au
gust 3. He has sat upon the bench
longer any other judge, either
federal tate, in the history of the
United Sta
Chief Justice Marshall, Judge Field
and others sat over 30 years upon the
bench, but no one has come within
four years of the length of Judge Jack
son's term of service.
Seventy-seven years of age, Judge
Jackson might several years ago have
JOHN JAY JACKSON, JR.
(Virginia Jurist Who Has Sat on the Bench
for Forty Years.)
retired, but he expects to die in the
harness, and to judge by his present
vigor it will be many years before he
does. For he is to-day one of the most
energetic of all the federal judiciary
and his opinions are noted for their
strength and vigor. During his term
of 40 years of continuous service on
the bench Judge Jackson has missed
but one term of court, and that was
when the confederate troops und«r
Gen. Loring were in possession of
Charleston.
Itohlnson Crusoe's Mnsleet.
A Philadelphia firm of auctioneers
recently offered at one of its sales
Robinson Crusoe's musket. It was a
fine old flintlock. It was in the pos
session of a grandniece of Alexander
Selkirk, flnd its pedigree is much
more unclouded than is usually the
case with objects of this kind.
Wenrs u Copper Dress.
The bride of William A. Clark, Jr.,
the son of Senator YV. A. Clark, the
copper king, has a dress in her trous
seau made of hairlike copper wire
that was created in Paris especially
for her. The effect is said to be
unique.
Dainty Menu for Servants.
King Edward of England has or
dered that the lower servants shall
have in future not only joint for din
ner, but also on alternate days a first
course of fish or soup.