RAIN IN THE WOODS.
Sil.nce first, with gloom o’erhead
Not a stir in bush or tree;
Woodfolk all tu coverts fled:
Dumb the gossip chickadee, i
Then a little rustling sigh:
Treetops toss, and bushes shake,
And a silent wave goes by
In the feathered fern and brake.
Now a murmur growing loud
In the pine tops far and near:
And the woods are tossed and bowed,
Like a soul in sudden fear.
i
: ; i
Hark! the music of the rain
On a thousand leaky roofs,
: : : |
Like an army o'er a plain i
Galloping with silver hoofs i
Patter, patter on the ground,
Rustle, rustle in the trees;
And the beaded bushes round |
Drip when shaken by the breeze.
Ah! if you wonld nature know
Close and true in all her moods,
Flee not from the shbw'r, but go
Hear the raind
{JAMES BUucKHAM, inYouth's Companion.
The Picture On 1g Curt.
BY
rops in the woods!
HARRY HOW.
I had known
month. He was a man worth
ing. His honest and genial-l
face spoke tr ily of i
heart within, and
something to be desired.
he was clever, very
among
garded as
would be wi
A. after his ns
particularly
me to come
the hot
iendship was
Moreover,
and
intes was freely re-
is fr
elev I
:
nis
wi 0 Some
much-¢«
[ was
wien
and smoke
with him in his studio.
| i ,
cal bHohem
a studio
situated
‘painting
specially
His
It was :
ian
gree
and, ¢
oth
arm,
studio, commence
or
impress me m
It was a linen
drawn
humor for
think you
yes, and as r
it was
cuff,”
the
was
‘Tired of Life
1 told him I rec yenized i
as [ saw it.
I was walking along
vps t
ent
happ
and he reach
wall, id the
the one which
i
m
years a
trying t«
a picture,
water side for an he 1 .
still without an I was j
about to turn down the road leading
back to my place when I saw a wo-
man coming Her eyes seem
ed to be fixed upon I
never seen such a sorrowful face
fore; so pale and so sad;
trouble written
it was a very heautiful
seemed to inspire me in an instant,
and the subject I had been in search
of appeared to be mine at last. Now,
you must know that I have a habit
of sketching a striking or charactor-
istic face upon my cuffs likely to
stand me in good stead for introdue-
ing into a picture. Fortunately for
me the woman stood quite still for a
few moments leaning over the stone-
work and gazing dreamily into the
water. My pencil was out in an in-
stant, and her face was quickly trans-
ferred to my cuff. 1 felt very exci-
ted. Here, here was my subject!
very thing. Bat possibly she might
se as a model for me, I thought.
Better still,
‘I crossed to her, and, raising my
hat, spoke. She started and looked
at me with tear and trembling. I
apologized to her for the strange in-
aspiration that her presence had sug-
gested to me. I told her I was an ar
tist; that her face had givengme an
idea that might possibly bring me |
fame and fortune. ‘Tired of Life,’ 1!
should cal it. Again I apologized |
as I further explained to her my idea. |
She stared at me vacantly, !
“It will be the picture of a young |
and beautiful woman,” 1 said, “‘ga- |
ging dreamily into the water by night,
and secing in the dark stream a rest- |
ing place for her and her troubles.
Would she become a model for my |
picture?” I saw how poorly she was
clad, so I felt 1 should
ing her it 1 told her I would pay her
for her services.
one day a
Fra:
upon
oh
» IE
MIT ¢
iden.
along
the water.
there
was
on every |
it
ne
nest, Bhe looked at me in a way
I shali never forget.
** ‘Do you know-—do you know,’ she
said, ‘but ho, of course, you cannot,
I must go; please let me go. I can-
not do as you ask.’ ha
“The woman made a movement.
‘* ‘You seem in trouble,’ 1 said, |
and putting my hand in my pocket
well, the truth is, old fellow, 1 gave
her a sovereign. 1 shall never forget
the grateful look she gave me: there
was a smile there, and tears were in
her eyes. She took the money with-
out a word, but I read all she wanted
to say. 1 gave her my card, and told
her if she thought anything more of
my proposal to come and see me,
and with a thank-
ful face turned quickly and hurried
away.
*Wall, I started
and day by day it
had to refer to the
though I kept it
woman's face was
on my picture, !
grew, | seldom
sketchon my cuff
carefully, for the
too vividly im-
you that at that time we had an old
man here, named Glover, who used
to clean and dust our anu
odd things about the place in general.
He was a quiet, say little sort of old
fellow—a man, 1 should say, who had
evidently seen a bit of
well as betterdays. We men used to
talk to hi wetty ely,
ways evi I a dee rest in t
were
in-
canvasas hewas in my
He wa
rooms do
trouble as
and he al-
ie
ew him so
lent about
I used
SOme-
seldom spoke.
of a :
es when 1 entered my
The ‘
easel with wondering gaze, wateh-
morning
studio for
re he would stand before
g.and evidently
next.
come
#a% was the river by
» woman who
wler to me.
O sendin
the
ade
1 tO want
h was uo
ne Kney
It was a suj
but I did it—I did
nth before I shonld
and I set
£ agai
E was
ne no
eme eflo
Bele
to send
rk. nted
ili
+ whole ti
¥ Wi 1 pai
You rere t=
ber what a success i and I think
say trul
vd ‘Tired o
| I am to-day
or
wis the day be
hee—Ex hil
King quietly in
ird a rap at
vin.” The
¢ stood-=the woman |
Embankment! Her face was
pale, and the Ii of trouble
were not entirely effaced, but she ap- |
peared more composed and contented.
She was better It was
such a sudden ne that |
practically jumped from my chair,
She was the first
Oh, sir,’
He oDeEny
i
HLIOn
wis sitting
my st when
door. 1 eried
door opened, and
had
udain
he
“iver
nes
dressed O06,
surprise to 1
to speak,
she said, ‘forgive me |
this; I should have before.
Tell me, tell me, have you painted
the picture you spoke to me about ?
If you have it is all a mistake: it will
not be true now. It might have been.
but you came to me as a friend in!
need. Tell me, sir, have you painted
it
come
wo ¥
There was great anxiety in her
voice. | told her that 1 had: that it
would be exhibited on the morrow,
‘She fell down on her knees be-
fore me,
** “Then, sir, it will all be known to
the world 7’
“What ?' 1 asked.
“* ‘What I was going to do. Yes, 1
was tired of life—oh, so tired. I
thought I should find rest in the |
river, and a home for my troubles
there. . You won't let my face be
seen——yout won't let tite people know
“Well, 1 argued with her quietly.
Told her that the world was wide,
and in this great seething crowd of
fighting humanity she would not be
known or recognized.
* “There is one
though,’ she cried.
“Who ?' 1 asked.
“My father.
“Her father ! T seemed to realize
the whole thing at once. Her tather
was the man Glover—the man who
who mighs,
caused me ceascless toil and anxiety.
Here, then, wns the cause of his
spoiling my picture. He, too, recog-
nized the face on the canvas, and he
did not want those features to be
given to the world. ‘Tired of Life!’
and a father living, a daughter fore
gotten and forsaken. This, then,
was the motive of hig erime,
‘* ‘My father,’ she said, ‘whom I
want to see again, He was 80 good
to me; but I left home for one who
has deceived me, and I cannot face
But IT want to: I
him, to take his dear
hand and fall on my knees at his
feet and “Take your Mary
home again, father, for she loves you
still. Forgive your Mary, father, for
she loves you more than ever now.
Oh, forgive me, dear, dear father?
“My heart was touched, 1 told
her to rise to her feet again. 1 took
her by the hand and sat her down in
my chair. I had made up my mind
exactly what I would Glover
knew for which exhibition my picture
was intended. He evidently destroy-
ed my work thinking I should not be
able to paint ier in its place in
Possibly, I argued to my-
have had his
and I should not be surpriced if on
the morrow he was there to
whether 1 had once more conveyed
his erring daughter's face to the caa-
want to kiss
say,
do,
anotl
the time.
self, he might doubts
800
furned to weep
ame. I
2
f Mary
Then i
Was rignt.,
WHS
bo-morrow
Bui
wh
come
y knows
happen
Do
F came
i kent ;
i I there was Glover
ts
f
sfce
¢ crowd. 1 shall never {
when he saw that
only gave one
went deadly pale
rroom. |
streets to
on Garden, Hee
», and I soon a
a iis &
ined that
Was no
band ot to
Big Be
Rrarba
f Ti
ired aca
ns
at this ere
Ih
* { ross
time to lose:
€hn IR
wi
r
obeved me with a
as careful a way as | could
i had found i
her father
thing
£3
door,
te the
It on the tal With
pulled back the
me standing there,
He a
felt sorry for
the
seemed to
ile.
hand he
SAW
tle 1w0t speak. stared
ny. I a
ir old fellow '—and
had me
nost
all
given
fade away,
his knees, but [ stayed him,
‘Never mind, Mr. Glover,’ I said
as well as | i, for there was a
great lump in my throat that made
it difficult for me to speak. ‘Never
mind, I understand all.’
‘Thank God!’ the old ma
t
sets}
COR
n eried.
i
i
SOMEWHAT STRANGE.
i
ISSTRANGER THAN FICTION.
Queer Facts and Thrilling Adventures
Which Show that Truth is Stranger
Than Fiction.
A Litirurian electric light hag been
invented for the benefit of now spaper
reporters, It is fastened to the end
of a pencil, so that the reporter may
earry his own light with him, and be
able to make his notes even in the
darkness,
AX ordinary-sized man bears con-
stantly upon his body a pressure of
about fourteen but
pressure is in all directions
within outwards as well
without inwards, the compensation
is perfect and reduces the actual
pressure to practicaily nothing,
1
iu
tons, ns this
and from
ns from
THE jewelry found recently in an
excavation near one of the pyramids
of old Egypt, ex}
about as much skill in working gold
and precio now
although foun
wade 4,800 The
fame Cor
bits
Memphis,
Ones ists,
us eX
articles i
Bonn
on ein
f
}
TWAS enti
Ky
snake, which
ng disturbed
His fel-
BILE MK
colored snal
and
eovery tnat
it
healt
pain.
evident
he
h
y
i¥ gone
bluish co gh
In what ba
biuish-looking water the & rang
tile home. Mr. (rage savH
that at night the snake coils up and
appears to
Pl
¢ Pe
has his
©
a
on the landing below. [1 heard her
hurrying footsteps up the stairs, and
at their tread the old man started.
He stood as one afraid to move, but
when be saw the form of his child he
flew out of the doorway and eaught
her in his arms,
“That's all, old fellow. I couldn't
tell you anything more——save that I
found the tears trickling down my
face just then. I often hear from
You are not surprised I
keep that old linen cuff, are you? =
{London Million.
——
Wool Fat.
A recent discovery in Australia
goes to show that the sheep is evena
more valuable animal than it has
been generally esteemed. Its latest
to man's welfare is a
fatty substance called wool fat, de.
rived from the grease that is skimmed
from the scouring vats,
It is used ns a basis for the ointe
ments for medical purposes, and is
the skin than any other oll or fat
known. It is able also to adhere to
moist surfaces, which no other un.
guent in, present use willdo. The
sheep owners of Australian are cares
fully saving the refuse of their vats
for this purpose,—{ New York World,
wg A BOA
Raggedy Wayside—Why dd you
swipe dat scientific paper when der
witiz lots wid gals’ pictures in dem
lyin’ "round? ;
Wandering Willle=<I like ter read
"bout de invention of labor-savin’ ma.
chinery., Diss will be a boss world
ter live in when dere’s no more work
done by hand. (Pick,
§
§
i
eyes may be plainly seen.
AT the Home for Aged and Infirm
Colored Persons in West Philadel-
phia two remarkable cases of longeve
and the fact that the birth.
day anniversaries of both were cele.
brated on the same day lends a pecu-
liar interest to the aged pair. “Aunt”
Mary McDonald, as she is known by
her friends, was one hundred and
twenty-eight years old on a recent
Wednesday, the fact of her birth in
1766 being established by reliable
proofs. She was born on the farm of
Reese Howell, adjoining what was |
later the encampment of the forces
of Gen. Washington, in the vicinity
of Norristown, her parents being
slaves. Rie claims to remember the
Father of his Country, and to have |
frequently come in contact with his
soldiers. The other centenarian is
John Gibson, also born in slavery, in|
Maryland, July 11, 1774, two years
before the proclamation of American |
independence. Both have long been |
members of the home and are still
active and in possession of their fac. |
nities.
“Ir seems quite possible that the
swallow will prove a successful rival
to the carrier-pigeon in its peculiar
line of service,” says Harold W,
Swain, of Washington, D. C. “1
know a man who has been experi
menting with these birds for years,
and who managed to tame them and
make them love their cage so that
they will invariably return to it after
a fow hours’ liberty. The speed of
these messengers can be judged from
an single experiment. The man of
whom I speak once eaught an un.
trained swallow which had Its est
wm his farm. He put the bird in a
basket and gave it to w friend who
ird loose on
telegraph him
free
was done, and the bird reached home
in one hour and ¢ Their great
speed and diminutive rims would
Hy recommend
use in war, ns it would
matter i
his arrival thera and
‘As sed
} i
i half,
vn 11 ’
EWNRilows
not be
especin
Hn ens
to shoot su the
ii CRITICrs on
wing
nccidoent,
Norfolk (y i.)
Navy Yard uppeurs to have been ex-
plained, and the anation
comes the necessity of making pro-
AN unusual electrieal
" :
hh ocenrred at the
Wild
with expl
vision
that are in dry doe
ing the
Two
, especially dur
of electrical
men standing in water
which wa insulated by
pports of dry wood N
$1
ntiy
Benson gtorms.
under
vessel, 4
su Were oy
Hp
4 i} : i $4 ’
# ol Vv Hiohitnin:
LUC) Dy aigniining
the deck
{ine o
nen on of
no shock, {
was killed instantly and the
died in a few hours,
NOW ven
other
The ¢ xplanation
is that the vessel was not
inary
un enaor-
lightning in the on
is used for
twenty minut
nager ribbon
i
|
end
the
g far into the
led the ray
o southwest extreme
black ¢
from a powe
louds
rful
, 8¢t in the len
ginss, except it hung
a rainbow It lasted
tite when it vanished, tog
ail the bright cole and
ly overspread with g
wintry looking clouds.
ee
rifes
was quick ray
efficacy of a black cat as
Hing rod has been too frequent
tion to be treated at
present time,
popular belief can be
:
3
of a well known business of
Washington,
been expending considerable
and attention upon a handsome black
man
cat,
family that by so doing she
charging herself with electricity, Fi.
far a ride on the electric cars to Bo
thesda.
of her friends to accompany her, she
i
i
i
i
{
|
1
The trio found places together near
when their conversation was inter
rupted by the conductor hurriedly
bending over them as though to avert
they left their sents before a sheet of
flame burst through the floor just
under the very spot over which the
young matron had been sitting, the
electrical i beneath having
ignited at that very point.
claros she will never stroke another
cat.
PARADING FAMILY AFPFAIRG,
“Newlywed seems to find particu
lar delight in parading his little fax.
ily affairs before the eyes of his vo.
quaintances.'’
What are they?® Scan.
“Does, eh?
dale?’
“Nop: twins. —{Butaio Courier.
Be —
A DANGEROUS MAN.
When the Stage Was '‘ Held Up”
He Tame to the Front.
“The busi IT up
i the
not
SPDersaoes
¢ and the pas ¢ would
be followed
few
iri
ore Vora
near
rag
ive
Dillon, Montana,’ «aid George (
i 13 A C31] 4 Vogl ers
Lane is as qui { i 1
tizen ns r went church
i% into
Hee
I CLOCORECH
of the
stence,
tenor
near
asthe
in
Old
and
i YOArs
" Red
fen the
hearing
iriver to
re were
fie n~
enough
looked
ut old
nt kind
4
age
Ink
iid
stage
up, and
Was a-Car-
{ man Lane is livin
y and hearty as vy
g yet,
picage,
on Ge now
don't
the
XK
Star.
theqariver
in Montana
necessary to lox
wt Washing
ton
Porcupine's Diet.
to
feed
have
get
don’t
1
TH TE $
mucin i
‘You skirmish
around to fatten
one of those hemlock porcupineson,’
gays an old Potter
to the Philadelphia Times. ‘Just
sprinkle some salt over a stick of
cordwood, or a sawlog for that mat.
ter. and he'll eat the whole business
and enjoy it like you would a mince
pie.
** The customary diet of these ani-
mals, though, hemlock browse.
They make themselves a home in a
hollow log or under the roots of some
old tree, but always in reach of a
big hemlock. The hemlock their
pasture, and they make beaten paths
going to and fro between the tree and
The porcupine climbs
readily as a squirrel
slip up
and cut his tail off while he is going
up. Somehow or other he can’t
climb the tree without his tail. nor
he won't come down without it.
** If you watch one of these pore.
pines climbing a tree and chop his
tail off close he will stop where he is
and will stay there until he starves
to death unless he is taken away.
Once up the tree, the porcupine goes
ois on the big limbs and pulling the
smaller branches in with one paw
browses on the pungent leaves. In
boing through the woods you will find
little piles of these fine leaves on the
That
means that a porcupine is feeding in
the tree, the leaves on the tree being
dropped from his feast. Sometimes
0
Woodman
county
is
is
tree as
4
tree fora week at a time, frageing
close to a trunk at night and feeding
during the day. This curious little
beast is the only known living thing
that eats the foliage of the hemlock.’
New Hampshire was forme
“