THE BLOOM UroN THR BREANOH p— The bloom upon the branch must die Before the tree can bear, It is the truth that wakes the sigh, And hope that brings despair The sun that paints the flower to-day Will fade the flower to-morrow; The lopgest joys will pass away, And end at last in sorrow, It is thas thought informs the mind That souls are filled with fear; It is that nature is unkind That starts the bitter tear. The passing air by which we live Still bears our breath away ; The hand which unto life doth give, Prepares the bed of clay. The brighter beams the steady light, The darker falls the shade; The colors most divinely bright Are still the first to fade, It is because all ties must part, “That farewell words are spoken ; It is the love that fills the heart By which the heart is broken. JACK’ LESSON, +*He positively neglects yon, Nannie; I wonder you stand it, Lens Blair touched the light-brown bair of her brother's betrothed very erossed her fine, haughty face, “You love him far too well, listle one,” she said, rapidly, "If you were not so willing to accept any sort of treatment from him, I'm sure he'd not | act as be does, hop I saw your pretty eyes turning | toward him wherever he was—and he wasn't very near you often—I noticed that, too—full of the most transparent devotion, Why didn't you do as he was doing? He was deep in a flirtation with Nell Glynn, Why didn’t you fry | the same amusement? You might find | it as pleasant as he did, or seemed to; | and when Roy Lexon tried to be civil | to you, you actually snubbed him, O, | you little goose! So long as you sub- mit to this sort of thing, so long will | you find 1t continme, You are too patient wr, 1 Am sure you Dever say a word iv Jack about all his flirtations, do you, Nannie?” “The pretty grey eyes fell, and a flickering color, sweet as that of the wild primrose, came and went in Nan- nie May's cheek. It was a very dginty | and flower-like face that Lena watched so closely, yet with a touch of impa- tience in her own dark eyes I couldn't say anything unpleasant to him, Lena,” she said, softly; ‘“‘and I am sure he loves me best always.” “Of course he does; but his conduct sometimes pains you. 1 kuow it does,” There was a slight contraction of the low, white forehead and a sudden quiver of the girlish lips, as they said simply; “Sometimes.” Then they added, hastily: *“I know he doesn’t mean make me miserable. He does it all thonghtiessness, Lena dear,” “Then it's about time you taught hin to consider a little, Your patience will make a confirmed flirt of him.” “What can I do. I never could quarrel with Jack. It would kill me, Lena, if Ispoke 10 him at all on the subject, I know I would cry.” “And then he would kiss you, and call you silly and jealous without ri: son; and you would ask his pardon, and ~he would flirt more than ever.” “Well, what is there for me to do?” “Make him jealous,” “1 never could; I am no { love Jack too weil to make Now, last night at the | lirt, and I Nim miser- you $00 rable, Jack ought to love well to want to make you m “He doesn’t think." “Then teach him to think!” impa- tiently. *‘I have a plan, Nannie, which will work splendidiy if you put it in execution, Sandy Anderson comes here to-morrow, Yon know him?” “0, very well, indeed! He is an old | friend, in fact.” “Well, a secret: We are betrothed.” “Lena, dear!” with a girlish delight, «I never even snapectad! Let me kiss yon, Does Jack ki “No, you childi Do you forget the old feud between them since one-—I forget which —gave the clher a good drabbing at college. And Jack isn’t to know just yet, either, 1 told you Bandy comes to-morrow. Let me lay my plan before you, aud see if there isn’t more of tae comic than tragic in my plot.” They were walking slowly along the beach within sight of the hotel at which | both were guests; both were with their | parents at Atlautie City, sponding = very delightful summer by ‘the sad sea waves.” Jack Blair had joined the party two weeks before, and still had four weeks left of vacation given him generously | by his senior partner in their Baltimore | bank, The two girls talked for some time, | and when they had finished, both were | Ianghing heartily, While their faces were yet dimpling | with mirth, they came suddenly upon a | couple sitting ou the sands, in a very | agroeable—to them-—-depths of an ani- mated conversation. They had a huge light sunshade overthem; and the young man--none other than Jack Blair hita- soll was quite pronounced in his desire to protect his companion’s complexion from the sun, while he was indus. triously swaying a great fan to and fro, quite near, in fact almost tenderly near the pretty, petulant, pink and whate face of Nell Glynn, said to be one of the | most unserunpulous and dustrions of flirts, and certainly enjoying her sojourn beside the sea, Lena and Nannie nodded to them and paesed on, Lena laughed maschiev ously. “Hirike just such an attitude some timo for his benefit,” she said; and Nannie blushed a deep red, but swiled a hittle also. ‘I'he, next evening there was fo be a pleasant hop at a heighboring hotel, and Jack had pro to escort Lena and Nannie, Ho was waiting for them as he had on the terrace, when his sis. him alone “ons Nannie "he naked, “Everybody has gone; Glynn 54 He is—is my lover, Ow! her mother went more then half an hour aoc Lig Nannie has been gone more than half an hour,” Lena responded, easily. Mrs. May was not going.” “She is in the parlor. with Mr. Anderson.” Jack started, “She was to go with us,” “I told you so, but I was mistaken, you see, We will be late, Jack,” Jack offered his arm, and led his sister across the terrace and along the sands, looking a trifle grave, “Nannie will be the belle to-night, Nannie went fully, “She looked beautiful in white satin dress, with pearls on her arms, If I were you, Jack, I'd be a little bit afraid. derson has admired Nannie for a long time, and he is so very agreeable and handsome—rather bandsomer than you are, my dear brether.” “‘A fop and a fool!” Jack exclaimed, disgustedly, and Lena only smiled, filled with waltzers, While they stood watching the cir- | cling couples, Nannie floated by, light | | a8 & zephyr, fair us a flower—held by | | Bandy Anderson, whose head was bent | | —rather too tenderly, it seemed to Jack-—over the fair one of the girl, She was smiling shyly, and, as her Then the other waltzers hid them, near the doorway, although Miss Glenn | him, As the hours went on, he found it nie to say even a word to her; and this | was so nnusual that he felt confused, | injured, indignant and angry altogether, | Miss May had certainly been a belle And Sandy Anderson had been her | constant attendant, When Jack walked back to their | hotel with Lena, he was perfectly | silent, and his sister asked him at last “It was & beastly bore!” he said, half | savagely. i “Didn't pursued “Ask Anderson,” was the eivil an- swer, ‘‘He never took his eyes off her all night ” “I don'ts think he ever cared for any- body else,” Lena said unblushingly. | pity the poor fellow,” And Jack tugged very savagely at his mustache, The following morning, directly after breakfast, he was standing on the ter race when Nannie and Mr, Anderson crossed it, on their way to the beach, They did not return until lunch hour, | and he noticed how bright and pretty the girl looked in her white flannel dress and broad sun hat; and he had been no more particular about the preservation of Miss Giynn's complex- ion than seemed Saody about his com- panion’s, In the afternoon, they-—Nannie and Anderson—went driving on the sands; and, when they finished, Jack heard a pienie planned for the following day, to which Sandy asked Miss May if he might be her escort, and she smilingly assanted, Then Jack became blindly, insanely jealons, and he sent Leona to induce his betrothed to go for a turn on the ter- race, He followed f.ena, and then, when Jack had drawn her arm through his, Leona left them and went in; and Jack commenced upbrawding her pretty love antil he melted her to tears, Surely Nannie May would never have become & queen of tragedy, for she owned everything thet and there, and dried her tears on Jack's broad bosom, and she even informed him of his sis- ter's engagement in her excited con- fusion. “Lens thought you neglected me, and that 1 took if too meekly; so she arranged and planned if all,” she sobbed, ‘She thought you might not speud so much of your time with Miss (iiynn, f you knew how badly I feit about your doing so, and she bade me try to make yon jealous. Bat you're angry, Jack? You're not angry at me?” “His anger didn’t seem very terrible for he kissed her. “Lena ought to be sshamed of her geif,” he declared; “and I think I'll forgive Anderson all old scores. He'll | not find lite fall of flowers if he becomes | my brother-in-law, But, my pet, yon | onght not to think of being jealous of | Miss Glynn, nor anybody else, There | Nannie look lovely?” she 3% iia not, loveable as yourself, and even Lena | shall not say I neglect you hereafter.” “And you are not jealous?” But he had been very jealous, —— AIA A Throw Up Your Uhin, The following bit of advice is well worth heeding by our young girls and boys. There is nothing like a strong pair of lungs, with every muscle in its right place and training, to promote per- fect health of body and mind, More. over, an erect carriage will produce an elegant and refined appearance, The whole secret of standing and walking erect consists in keeping the chin well head upward and backward, and the shoulders will naturally settle backward in their position. Those who stoop in walking generally look downward. The proper way is to look straight ahead, upon the same level with your eyes, or if you are inclined to stoop, until that tendency is overcome look rather above than below the level, Mountaineers are saxd to be as ‘straight as anarrow,’ and the reason is because they are Shige be Ook a A is mply im eo to n ng iu will hood and this rule. ou will notice all round-should- ered persons the chin near the breast and downward, Ir's swear weather, and yet every. body ls dry, An Alpine Layl. Frank de Vaud was climbing up a particularly stiff part of a particularly stiff hill. Sometimes he called in the | assistance of the Alpine-stock he held in one hand, but just as often he clam- | bered on and up without it, Frank de Vand was going to see { pretty little bright-eyed Johanna, the goat-herd’s daughter, and Johanna | loved honest Frank, and he knew it i right well. They were going to be | married before a great many months { were over, and his chief reason for visi- | ting her cottage to-night—she dwelt a | long, long way up the hill—was to press { her to “‘name the day, the happy day,” as the song says. | and they met as true lovers wno are be- at last the storm burst andthe lovers quarreled and parted. Frank spent most of his time among the mountains now. He loved that somewhat ancient gun more than ever, But Frank seldom sang. The joy and the happiness seemed clean gone away from his big heart for ever and a day. He gave the little chalet, at which he had spent so many a pleasant evening, He could not bear the sight of it. He would not have gone near it for worlds, He dread- ed to look upon Johanna, lest the old love should return with such force that meet, They did say that Johanna was think they were not far wrong, | dress became her so, too, and the mo- | sweet voice and deep blue thoughtful his pride, and own he had been wrong and unjust in his jealousy. But was he unjust? He asked himself that What right had she to accept the gifts of that hateful Saxon? How dared she —the affianced bride of Frank de Vaud often and you? Not she, Oh! I don’t know,” she always answered bashfully. “Well, gions with him on the lake? Nay, he had been wronged; he never, never, never would forgive her. ning, ‘“‘say in six months time,” “Oh! dearest, we don’t know what somewhat thoughtfully. And a very successful one His gun, though, was not much to ntricities; to. ttle ecce have worth wouldn’t gun for one One beautiful afternoon, when high up among the Alps, he shot a chamois a long way down beneath him. It was He sat down beside it. He lit his pipe and began to dream and build castles in the air, or, if be did not build castles, he imagined one sweel little chalet, which would be all hisand — Hullo! was that a shout from this He listened. it was again, ringing and ough, owing to the distance, no louder than the voice of a midget. “Help! Help! Coo-ee. Help! Help!" De Vaud looked over the i and gaw a dark figure in the snow, “Hallo!” he sh “I'l go for assistance, up your Wait.” And away went Frank, leaving his gun beside the slain deer, “Wait, indeed!” growled | Poddlesby to himself, “I'll wait! What a fool I was to coma away without a guid I sball a good dinner, too!” Little Mr. Poddiesby hailed from Ealing, where he had a fine house and all kinds of fine things, his uncle hav- ing died heirless and left him wealthy. So Poddlesby required to be a clerk no longer in the city. He determined soe the world! A very vulgar, fellow, I'm sorry Lo say, He had had an idea, even when poor clerk, U rather than otl i r sex, but now that he had self irresisti : club, and it us er is Yes, there ely ¥ ledge back heart. outed, Keep ittle Mr. have to el lose $ “A d 0 self-conceited little was Poddles- a attract- ov, $3 eT ay ie ive joined an 1 his boast t BEY i required Hen m at the botd had he not Vaud, be nly have perished 1 weeome food for the eagles, Frank was back dlesby was ce we Ling i foun corta and 1 In thiee hours Lime wit assistance, and brought safe to ths i more dead than alive. He was then carried to the nearest chalet, the goat-herd’s, where pretty Johanna lived, “I'll be as fresh as a daisy to-mor- row.” said little Podilesby, as they pat him to bed. But he was not so, with a fever, and for weeks he lay “wixt death and life, When at last he became convalescent, nothing could ex- ceed the kindness of Johanna's parents to lnm, nor, indeed, of Johanna herself. “But, of course, 1 shall pay them well for it,” said Poddlesby to himself, Poddlesby was somewhat surpnsed when, on bidding his host and hostess good-bye, the crisp bank note he tried to slip into the hand of the lalter was firmly but respectfully deelined, They had only done their duty, said this honest couple; if they deserved any reward at all it would come from hea- ven. “Well,” said Poddlesby to himself that evening, when he found himself snug in his hotel in the town down Lhe wiore morning ie hy He was down stop here a few months and fish and do less after all their kindnesses, her everywhere and show her every. thing. She is too good for that lont of a Frank. marry her myself.” [Tave you ever seen a tiny cloud, rea- der, nsing over the sea, or eveu the hills in 8 mountainous land? Up and bigger and wider and darker every min- the thunder roars, and all is chaos and destruction. Just such a little cloud began to rise between Frank de Vaud and Johanna on the very day that Pod. dlesby commenced paying attentions to our innocent Swiss maiden. have cost golden gulders. She couldn’t offend by refusing to accept it. Ts was the thin end of the wedge, After this Podalesby asked Johanna's parents—and he asked so prettily—if she might be his guide among the hills now and then; he was studying botany he said. Old fraud that he was, be did not know a fir-cone from a hazel catkinl the disagreeable from Poddlesby, and she did not like to What harm herself, In Ah! but many and many a night, for One autumn day, Frank, lying on the sun was beating so warmly as al- beneath him, ¢ something move, in a crevasse far down Presently he saw tl pext he heard it bh “It is,” cried Frank; be--but by everything that 13 ble, it's nobody se bu Ay, scream away, my marka- man. 1 * DOW, deed, you shall becoms food { gles, Revenge is sweet.” XY es, reader, reven vengeance does ge 18 sweet, but belong to two whole not Frank lay there for watching Poddlesby, then, his nature prevailing, went straight away and got stance, and in a short nglishman from Ealing was sr. When he saw who had wed him, Poddlesby p ly burst into (ears, wit some with me,” he cried, **1 he “Lome s half-unwilling 1 slush “I haye done yo gai “1 have which I sines Well Poddles i need MD Johanna's, there was some good 1's heart after all, not say that Johanna were married, Yes, dlesby was at the wedding, the most charming gift was Poddiesby’s. A —— — Small Boys and Stamps. tha iba nag ators have Species Scientists and suggested that the betray during $1} Tye opment Lhe Ins f devel F443 thelr prehistoric this * heory to the & in that oue earlier iat of the bower bird, itive and acquisitive, the bower ts every brightly aored or oddly shaped object it ean find, and, with this plunder, 0 the small riod the ear man’s states fet loan u d collec b decorates boy he bower bird wanders up and deo th after birds’ eges, st pe- of npe coins, ings, auto ad vertia- wy W face postmarks, newspaper graphs, monograms, butions, ing cards and seals. Of these varions collections advertising cards, buttons and mono- grams are simply useless, They have not only no limit, but no purpose, Post. marks and newspaper headingsare little batter, Coins are too costly and too bulky. Autographs have no limit in number, but are instructive, Seals are common enough to be popular, birds’ eggs are only within reach of the country boy, but stamps are the ideal object of collection. Their number has a 1 terest increases as the collection grows complete, They come from all parts of the world, and are of varied grades of “‘rareness.’’ They are bright in color, attractive in design, and by their in- seriptions and devices seduce the small boy into an attentive study of many ele- mentary branches of learning. is eye is trained to detect colors and delicate shades, His fingers are schooled to quickness and gentleness of touch. He is foreed to master words in many dif. is of those FAE35 mit, so that in- names of the nations of the earth, to get i i coins and to recognize their flags, em- and to the analysis of delicate lines in the case of those Alsace-Lorraine, where in one issue the tracery in the groundwork has angles pointing up- wards and in another angles pointing already no collection of a thousand or fifteen. hundred stamps can be made history of Europe since 1850, glish and colonial stamps show Vieto ria at every age. The French, begin. ning with the republic, pass through the various stages of the third Napo- lic, The stamps of Naples, Parma, Tuscany, Sicily, Modena and the Papal States reveal by their dates the rise of Italy. Those of this country Imprint upon the mind the faces of our most eminent soldiers and statesmen, while engerness for stamps that he once did, Floods of counterfeits have chilled his goal and qusiched his comfidence in Tne Village Romance, A little shepherd of the forest of Pal- neca loved a young girl of Banto Pietro, the cool mountain village where the fashionable ladies of Ajaccio go to spend the summer, The young girl loved the youth. At the first word of marriage the father of the young girl flew into a ter- rible passion, so terrible that the flock of Palneca did not dare to wander near the hillside of Banto«’istro, But on the fifth day the girl fell ill, and | at last the father relented, “We will see about that,” he sald, “after he has drawn his censecript’s number and has served hig time, Ido not want you to have a husband who | will be compelled to leave you as soon | a8 you are married,” How came it that in this country, | where there is no telegraph, the ghep- | herd an hour afterward knew what had | been said? The fact 18 that on entering the vil- | lage he had only one idea uppermost in | his head-—escape from his term of mlil- | itary service. {| The next day, while cutting wood in the forest, he, as if by accident, gave | his hand a smart blow with his hatchet | and severed three fingers. Now let the military take place! He went home and tended hishurt as well as he was able, and when the wound was healed and | rightly and d | Santo Pietro and bravely | offer, “] am not going to serve i army,’ examination Jw uly in will never take me, now,’ But word. “Never, he said, “will daughter to one who is And it was apparent { voice that be meant In spite of his daugh remained inexorable, It was quite clear that this old man i did not like a maimed son- He made but one reply ers and tears of this youn “Never, you thoroug never | And don’t le g around here ought to marry cri the little blind gir unchback o ihe YO once dun You can marry us the father stopped him inh any PLES, Iy hi her shept Een iy sh»? The young girl, however, was not t be sold like that, When she was zed with a longing for the and every i ia open alr, 3 ks by the hil we U srd was able U reply, the hatchet had falien, the stone was reddened, and beside it lay the fin- ¢ pratt tro. tv maid of Santo Pie enherd.” she said, “‘show me how you healed your wound *’ And together they returned to Santo Pietro, he with tears in his eyes and she radiant. What could her father do? Had be pot imprudently sald cripples ought to marry cripples? The wedding was celebrated soon afterward. gers of ti EAT ens : LE0OW Bi that very sts — Fhiisdelphia Twist. “What 1s there new in barbering?” | repeated the barver to himself. the latest thing is called the ‘pompa- dour.’ That is a new wrinkle, used mostly by specialty actors. It isp sort of bang, very artistic though, requires girls in front every time. it from New York. It’s all there, Then gwe have the bang.’ with the ‘Boston annex.’ These good demand. Give you one or both, or perhaps you'd like a ‘natural straight, | that's a good, sensible cut, It's style | without foppery.”’ ‘How much do good men earn now?’ “All the way from §10 to $15 per week, The average is about $12." By this time the artist was preparing to adjust the patient’s mustache. “Will you have the ‘Boston curl’ or the ‘New York curl?’ The Boston is | done with the fingers, the mustache twisted into a knot, then combed out. This operation is repeated until it stands out straight with a slight ap- ward tendency, a delicate separation of the hair and a twist of the wrist, and the curl is complete. The Gotham style is somewhat different. The hair | fs tied up in papers and allowed to re- main so ten or fifteen minutes, then | combed out. Both operations result in | 4 wavy appearance of the mustache. 1f the siiky appendage is long enough a | a very artistic curl makes a sort of eye- ‘glass to it. This is the Philadelphia The Recruiting Service, Before the United States recruiting office on Woodbridge street, Detroit, | there may be seen every day a man, arrayed in the blue pageantry of the | American solser’s uniform and carry~ ing an army rifle, It is not the same | man each day nor at different times of | the day. The irregular manner in which | the men pace up and down show them | to be illy schooled in the profession of {arms, In fact they are raw recruits and this standing guard over the ene trances to the recruiting offices is their | first service, The only other external evidence that the American eagle, in its martial maje ty s located thereabouts, is a narrow American flag that projects over the stairway entrance. Capt. King, the new recruiting officer is a slight but soldierly-looking man of about 40 years of age. He has been in the service about twenty years alto- gether, but only the last six months at his present post. He is an agreeable conversationalist, and cordially wel. comes visitors at the office. His “staff” consists of two non-commissioned offie cers one of whom acts as his Secretary. “There are a great many laughable things that occur in the recruiting ser. | vice,” said Capt. King. “Some of the | letters that we receive are very funny. i I got one the other day from a man who { wanted to know if he would bave his | house in Washington or Detroit if be “hey ask all manner of ques. are being “How many soldiers Ihe { eruited now?’ “Recruiting now and we are taking | only the very is running very light by instruction, that apply. nly twenty-one Dest there are a send them in ioned officer to Huis, where months and sat the front.” 11 Any assurance in, when or charge of | dozen | Jefferson they are then sent to different px ‘Are Lhe re WIVEe irely unable te tell tistment the soldiers of location, and if they desire 10 nt.” i idiers who ree wey saved?’ could save They have while i 1 save Ded JEN h most of th though there ers and farmer's uently try to work You see if they pass the examination they get a uni- form. This they go on the stredts and ] wugh no man except a soldier, iorably discharged soldier has a to have a uniform in his possess. They take the money get drunk nd never return. But we usually get to a tramp right away. We fire a few of them into the street every day, Just come around some day and See an nation 1? examination. Ly alk SONS ips fre tha wit cnsinma———— te A A sss nent The Society Garl, he je har Li i% her own worst She lacks common sense. The girlhood is to capture a hus. anil her every act is to frighten off. She poses as a useless, delicate creature, whose mind never rises above trifles, and her every cos- tume advertises that it takes a fortunes to dress her. And she is useless, delib- erately 80. Every useful thing she re- gards as beneath her, and systematical- ly shuns it. And she is delicate be- cause ber manner of life make her so, She does pull ber corsets too tight, and she does have the heels of her shoas in the middie of the soles, say what she will to the contrary. It would be hard. ly possible for her to be more reckless | of her health, The promenade and dancing is her only exercise, and we | know under what circumstances she | dances, how she gels overheated, and | then goes out nio the chilly night air, We know, too, the absurdity of her ball | dress in the coldest weather, If she is comparatively poor her dress shows | that she has turned every corner, spent every penny ste could lay her hands | upon to make it as elaborate as possible. . ' sociely gil enemy. aim of her 3 3 ya 134 band, § the men csmessnssssprnsssss MI EIA AAO The Men Who Succesds The young men who receive promo- tion are the men who do not drink on { thesly. They are not the men who are | always at the front whenever there is | any strike, nor are they the men who | watch for the clock to strike twelve and | leave their picks hanging in the air, | They are not the men who growl if they | are required to attend to some duty a | few minutes after the whistle has {sounded. They are the men usually who pay the closest attention to the de. tails of their business, who act as | though they were trying to work for | their employer's interest instead of to beat him at every crook and turn. They are the men who give the closest atten. tion to every practical detail, and who look continually to see whether they can do any better or not. This class of men are never out of a job. They are gearce, they never strike, they never loaf, and they do not ask for their pay two or three weeks before pay day. stool, and we are imformed that is will not ersok on being subjected to moder.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers