!;c crrrt llfpliliraa J. E. WENTC. Omce In StuearbangU Co.'s Enliding, ELM STREET, . TIONE3TA, PA. xicitMs, 91.no pun yeah. No """rilrtlom roceived for t shorter period thnn thrre month. r Ckrrosjort.icnoo solioHod fmtn all prtof tb country. No notice will betaken of anonymous gom muni ontiong. RATI3 UF ADVErtTCHTO. One Riinnre, one inch, one iusertirai... fl One S(tnnri, or.e inch, one month..... One Hinre, one inrli, three moiie... One Siinnre, one inch, one year fl ''--"I I , 3 A. '1 WO l-iqimrps, one year " Qnnrter Column, one year f Half (iolnmn, one year K One Column, one year Iognl notions at established rates. Marriage and death notice gratis. All bills for yearly advertisement oeUeete qnarterly. Temporary advertisement! w . be paid in advance. Job work, cash on delivery. V0L.IT1. NO.-14. TIOKSTA, PA., WEDNESDAY, JULY 11. 1883. $1.53 PEE AHOM. I ...... y ViV' STAND LIKE THE ANVIU "Bland like tho anvil," whoa tlio sSrilcea Of Blalwnrt men fall florce find fast ; Storms but more deeply root tlia on':, VTumo brawny arms embrace tl-.e blnsfc. '-Stand like tlie anvil," when fie sparks Fly fur and wilo, a fiery shower i Virtue and truth mint still In mnrki Vt'hcro ninlice rnvos iu want of powor. ' S.nnd like the nnril," when the btr lics r.ni ami glowm.? o;i ita broaat Duly plmll be lifo's loading stir, And coiHc.ioun innocence its reit. "Stand like the anvil ;" noie and hcrnt Are born of earth and die with time J The soul, like God, its source and sout, Is siJdom still, serene, sublime. FAITH REWARDED. CHAPTER I. "You will bo back 0.3 soon as you ran, Edith? You know how I dislike being left alone." Mrs. . Bertram epoko fretfully, nnd looked as If she rather resented lior daughter's going out sit all. "Anil you will think over what 1 have said to you about Dr. Ashby? You know, my dear, some me must make a sacrifice; I'm sure I'm willing to do anything, but what 53 there a helpless invalid can do? If you would only look at tho matter from a reasonablo point of view you would not hesitate. Just think of Blanche and Eva, what is to become of those poor, darling children?" Edith sighed deeply; she had been thinking of the children all tho morn ing while teaching them their lessons and correcting their exercises, trying to coax Bee to practice, nnd Eva to cet through her French verbs, think ing what a comfort it wouid bo if they could both bo sent off to a good school, where they would be taught obedience; for though she had all tho trouble, bhe had not tho slightest con trol over them. It only seemed like playing at les sons to have Edith for a governess, while to her it was weary, wering work, added to all her other anxieties and worries. For everything seemed to fall on Edith's shoulders. Mrs. Bertram was a fretful, rather selfish erson, who suffered from nervous leadaches, and on tho strength of them took very little intere-t in the affairs of her smal and ttrnitened household, except to perpetually find fault, and grumble at the hard fate that had placed her in such circum stances. She was a pretty woman, with soft fair hair and violet eyes, and useless jii.ua wiuiiB iuiuum ; aiiu luougu xauiu Bertram felt it keenly when her father . brought home a young wifo to tho Dingle, sho did not wonder when she looked at tho pretty clinging girl who looked little older than herself, and seemed! so sweet, shy and amiable. Edith was fifteen, and her step-mother twenty-two, though she did not look nearly 60 old. And just at first, things went on smoothly enough at the Dingls Mrs. Uertram made no changes, and Edith was still housekeeper, and took care of her father as she had dono for five years ever since her own mother had died. But after a few months the , sweetness and shyness rubbed off, and Mrtjj Bertram exhibited a sharpness of temper and petulance of manner that was anything but pleasant. The doctor, amiable and easy-tempered to a fault, gave in to her in everything. First she had Edith's drawing-master sent away, as she thought it mere waste of time and money ; then the music-teacher was dismissed on the plea that, as Edith was not going to bo a musical governess, it was absurd to keep on learning, as she played quite well enough already. Then Mrs. Bertram began to find fault with Jack Clifford, the doctor's assistant, and made it so unpleasant for him that he declared one day ho could not stand it any longer. "I've made up my mind to go to tho Cape, Edith, to make my fortune," ho said, and she could only bid him good bye, with tear-dimmed eyes and fal tering voice. She could not a3k him to stay, for It did not seem like home at the Dingle, and all her authority was gone. " But I'll come back, Edith," Jack added, holding both her hands. "I'll return to you. Will you trust me, darling, and wait?" "Yes, Jack, I will," she replied, Bimply. And the next day he left with a formal farewell. Only Edith knew what a disappointment it was to Jack, and how all his hopes were blighted and liia plans altered. The doctor had promised to make him his partner, and that one day he should succeed him; but for some inexplicable reason ho Jiad been cold and distant of late, and it seemed a positive relief when Jack wa gone. mouths a.'tr the baak in which Dr. Bertram had deposit ed the savings of Ids whole life, and Edith's fortune inherited from her mother, failed suJ denly everything was lost, and the doctor never recovered the shock of it. "If I only had Jack to stand by me I might have borne it," he raid, sadly; "he would have been a son tJ mo in my adve sity." K 'But Jack wat gone, none knew whither, and Mrs. Hertram began to mi dy realize that she h::d clone a fool .1 tiiinc in drivim: him away, for the doctor grew every day more feeble, und ent length was forced to sell his practice nnd huuse, ftnd move iato u t!ny cottaga on tho outskirts of tho vill gf, where, after a few months, ho died of a broken heart. Tin money ho had received for his prantica and tho Jungle, and an insurance on his life, was all In had t j leave his wifo and children, and in vestal in tin most care ful way, it brought them in less than a hundred a yeat. Poor Edith found it hard work to make both ends of sue i a narrow in come meet, and after a few months she found it absolutely necessary to do something to earn more money. She could not go away as a governess first, because her btspmother had cut short her education at the most critical Urn?, and, beside, sho could not leave her little sisters. But her music sin had always kept up, and the village church happening to bo in need of an organist, the vioar offered her tho situ ation, which sho gratefully accepted; and after a time site secured a few music pupils, and in that way helped out their narrow income. But the hardest work of all was teaching and taking care of Blanche and Eva. They were pretty, willful, spoiled children, indulged by thdr mother, and unac customed to B,ny sort of control or .dis cipline. During the doctor's lifetime they had a nutsjry governess, and Edith never imagined till she came to have sole chargo of them how much poor Miss Leo must have suffered at their hands. There wa3 but one bright spot in the rather wearing, monotonous life, tho daily walk with the children. For their health's fake and her own she made a point of taking them out every fine day for a ramble through the woods and shady lanes. Ashmead was iu tho center of a beautiful country ; not a railway in sight ; no smoke from furnace or factory staino I the clear, puro air ; nothing but rich corn-fie!ds, fertile valleys, cool fchady woods and mossy lanes, with a merry little brook flashing like a gleam of summer light ning through the meadows. It wai a poiitlve delight to saunter idly along in the gloriotn sunshine and gather the wild flowers that grew so luxuriantly at their feet, and weaye ropes and chains and wreaths of blossoms. It seemed like new life to get clear of the house, with its narrow conlines and sordid care3; and of late thera had cornea new element of distress into poor Enith's existence. For a whole year Dr. Seymour Ashby, her father's successor, had beon a constant visitor at Eglantine cottage. It was amazing how many excuses he found for calling at first, and how soon he began to call without an excuse, and one day he pro posed in due form to Mrs. Bertram for Edith, and she gave him every en couragement to try his fortune for him self. ' Of course you'll accept him, Edith," she said, eagerly. "It win be such a blessing to us all. Dr. Ashby is young, rich, clover, handsome. What more can you possibly want? And he really loves you most devotedly." " But I don't love him," Edith re plied. " Then you ought, and I'm sure you will in time ; and beside, as I said be fore, some one of us must make a sac rifice for the children's sake. Do think it over before he talks to you, Edith." "Yes, I'.'l think it over," was the somewhat weary reply, aa Edith put on her hat and took up her basket to Join the children, who wero waiting impatiently outside. But it was not of Dr. Ashby, but of Jack Clifford, that sho thought, as she sauntered through the fields Jack, who had left her six years before to make his fortune, and, despite his promise, had never returned. CHAPTER II, Knee-deop, apparently, in the golden, full-eared wheat, Edith and her sisters sauntered idly along, Eva first, gather ing the brightest of everything, till her basket was full ti overflowing scarlet poppies, Marguerites, graceful clematis, rich leaves mellowing with the first early autumn tints, long trail ing sprays of amb T-veine 1 ivy, and no.ldmg golden grasses all sorts of wayside and woodland treasures. They were returning from lla'.eldell farm, where the children had rested for half an hour, and eaten home-male bread and butter, and drank milk with the yellow wrinkled cream on it, and helped themselves to the remains of late amber gooseberries that bordered the garden path. It was always a treat to go to llazeldell farm, but had Edith known that there were seven children ill in tho next farmhouse she would have chosen some other direc tion. She had trie I to tlrnk Dr. Ash by'a proposal over calmly, and it cer tainly seemed a safe and easy way out of all their difficulties. He was rii h and willing to undertake the children's education; In would make an addition to Mrs. Bertram's income, which would enable her to live in comfort at some watering place (though Mrs. Bertram meant to make the Dingle her home); everything he proposed was kind nd thoughtful, and she was very grateful, but iu heart sha felt she, did not love Seymour Ashby, and, what was more than that, she never should love him. Friendship, esteem, affection psrhaps, she, might ia time bj tibia to give him, but no second growth of love would ever spring up iu her heart. Edith's was an intense, patient, faithful na ture, giving rnueh and evading little in return. She win willing towa t, as 6Ui U3'4 promise J ack Clifford, ta w&t nil her life If need -knt there were the children and In i- ,rrfother help less and dependent on her. Clearly some one would have to make a sac rifice, nnd with equal clearness Edith saw that it must be herself. So sho resolved (o accept Dr. Ashby's pro posal, and tried to assure hersolf that ahe was acting for the btst. l'resently she heard a step behind iter on tho narrow path, and looking rouuu sue saw the doctor approach ing; a t ill handsome man, dressed in a suit of tweed, with a g engarry cap pulled down over his eyes ; as different from his predecessor, Dr. Bertram, as a man could be, but with a dash and cleverness men of the old school never possessed. "I have been trying to overtake you for ten minutes, Miss Edith," he said, falling just a step behind, for the path was too narrow for two. "I have something of Importance to say to you." " Yes, doctor," she replied calmly, though her heart beat fast ana every trace of color left her face. "You know what I would say, Edith you must have seen during all those months how I love you. I want you to by my wife. Your mother has given me permission to address you, and given me some little reason to hope that you will listen to me. Tell me, Edith, can you or do you care a little about me ?" For a minute or two Edith was silent, then she told him all the. truth, how they were situated, how she had liked Jack Clifford, but for six years had not heard anything of him, and how, if she consented to be his wifo, ho must be content with mere esteem and affection, for 6he had no love to bestow. " You aro honest, Edith, and truth ful," he said in a very low voice, "and I thank you for the confidence you have reposed in me, but I must think this matter over. I love you far too well to risk your happin ;ss in any way. Six years is a long time to be faithful to a silent lover, Edith." " We were scarcely lovers, doctor," sho replied, with a sad little smile. "Jack just said, 'I'll come back Edith; will you wait?' and I said I would that was all. But poor papa was alive then, and we were rich ; now every thing is so different. For myself, I am content as I a n, but the children I" " Ah, yes, the children something must be done for them. They are far too much for you. Did you say Jack Clifford went to the Cape, Edith, and that you never heard from him?" " Yes, he said he was going to make his fortune in the diamond fields, but he never wrote, so I dare say he was not successful, poor fellow I Indeed, I think lie must be dead." "I think not." Da Ashbyreplied, thoughtfully. "Once more, Edith, I thank you heartily for your candor and confidence, and I will come to you for your final answer at the end of a month. Till then, good-bye," and the doctor luted his cap, and turned down a by-path that led to the Dingle, and poor Edith went homs more perplexed than ever. "It's a wholo month since we've seen Dr. Ashby whatever did you say to him, Edith?" Mrs. Bertram sa:d one evening; "the house has soemed wretchedly dull without him. You did not surely refuse him point blank V "No, I did not refuse him," Edith replied, wearily; she hail answered nearly the same question every day for four weeks, and was tired of it. She was looking pale and worn, but Mrs. Bertram never hsul eyes for any one's illness but her own. "Mamma," Eva cried, bursting into the room, " here's the doctor and an other gentleman !" And Mrs. Bertram smoothed her fluffy hair and put on her amiable smile, while Edith's heart began to beat fiercely. She had thought the matter over from every point of view, add at length came to the conclusion that it would be positively wicked to marry the doctor while Jack Clifford was so much in her thoughts, and, come what might, she would not do it. Presently he came in alone, and, after a few moments' conversation, he asked her to walk with him for a few minutes in the garden. She went at once, longing to have the interview over, and burst into the subject di rectly. "I cannot be your wife, Dr. Ashby; I think it would be wrong of me to accept your proposal, feeling as I do. rieaso try and forgive mo and let me go." "First, let me introduce my friend, V he said, laying his hand on her arm, " and my new assistant the work of Ashmead is rather too much for me Miss Bertram Mr. Clifford." " Jack 1" In a moment she was in his arms, her face hidden on his shoulder, all the long years of absence and silence forgotten. ho only felt that he had returned, and she was still free. Later she learned how it had all come about how Dr. Ashby saw an advertisement in the paper, and guessed that "J no. C'must mean Jack Clifford, lately returned from the Cape, and several old letters ha dis covered in a diawer in one of the ro ivis of the Dingle convinced him that there was treachery at work somewhere. 8d he just engaged Ja'-k, an l then to d him all about the Ber trams, and how Edith was still fa;th ful to him, though she. never received cue of hii Jitters. The result was a very quiet wedding in Ashmead church, and on that daj Dr. Ashby handed over the Dingle and the practice to his partner, and went to travel in South America, promising to return about the time Blanche was seventeen. Bot h tin children he placed at s hool, and Mrs. l?ertram,feeling vert much ashamed of the part she had played in intercepting Jack's letters, left Ashnead, and in a few years married a retired merchant at Brighton, and so never troubled her stepdaughter further. Jack Clifford is fast becoming tha most popular doctor for miles around and when Seymour Ashby returns, If he ever does, he will find the practice greatly extended. Edith is perfectly happy in her old homo, the Dingle, and never for a moment has regretted her perfect faith in Jack. A K.tcatchcr's Methods. In an interview with a professional ratcatcher a New York Sun reporter aked : "How do you clear a house of rats?" " If the house has a "soft cellar floor I can get the rats out, but I can't keep them out. If it has a hard founda tion, I hunt out all the holes leading from tho sewers and stop them up with sand and cement. That prevents any more from getting in and those in the house from escaping. You see, a rat is always on the move. He is never still, but goes from the sewer to the house and back again very often. Having made the cellar tight, I find the runways by whl :h the rats go from one floor to another. These are generally along lead pipes in the walls. A rat will run up a lead pipe as (asy as walk along the floor. You can see tin marks of their feet on the runway. I nail :i small square piece of tin over a part of the runway and I grease the outsida. Now, a rat can't run up this, and he slips down when he comes to it. " If I can't get at the runways I find tne holes, and fix this wire door on it, You see, it is made of four pieces of short wire hiid DaralleL held ton-ether wy crossbars, and sharpened at tho ends. This is suspended by the top over a rat-hole. Coming from the hole a rat can easily lift it up and get through, but In can't go back, as the gate falls and the sharp points prevent mm trom lilting it. Now I make a rat trap of the wholo house. I so fix the gates and tin sides that the rats will all bo led into one room in the basement. There they are securely caught, as they cannot possibly get out. I go among them with a dark lantern and pick them up with my tongs. I can catch them as quietly as a cat would a mouse. If they get in places where I can't reach them I shoot them with this long target pistol. I use these litcle target cart ridges, and it kills them every time. "When the rats get in ceilings I smother them out with cayenne pep per. 1 have a fumigator here which works like an air pump. I burn red pepper in it and pump it into the ceil ing. The rats can't stand that, and they got out a3 fast as they can. That is better than a ferret, as ferrets are expensive and the rats often kill them. Ferrets are scary things to handle. If they bite you once you have to pry their jaws open. When I want to catch rats for dogs I set traps. First I remove everything out of their way, so that they will get very hungry. Then I set tho traps. Then I have another way of catching them. I wear rubber shoes into a slaughter-house at night and carry a dark lantern. I move softly about and catch the rat3 with the tongs before they have a chance to get away. In this way I haye caught 103 rats in two hours and a half. If you ever get bitten by a rat, put tin wound in hot water and make it bleed. Then bathe it with arnica or spirits of turnentine." A Wond rful tavern. About a mile from the market town of Adelsberg. in Austria, and three miles from Trieste, is to be seen tha most wonderful cavern in Europe, and possibly in tho world, called the Adels berg cave, and which has been explored for a length of nearly three thousand yards, as far as a subterranean lake. This cavern consists of several grottoes, from sixty to eighty feet high. The interior resounds with the noiso of water, as a little river runs completely through it, forming many cascades on its way. and being finally lost to view in a fissure, 'lhis river continues its subterranean courso for about eight miles, and after a time it disappears into tho caverns of Laase, whence it emerges as a navigable river called the Laibach. The entrance to the cave of Adelsberg is illuminated by hundreds of candles, and a transparent curtain, composed of large sheets of crystallized lime.itone, is seen hanging from tho roof. The vast hall or ballroom is about 10 yards from the entrance. It is threo hundred feet long and one hundred feet high, and is adorned with transparent stalactites of every kind of fantastic shape and form. Until the year 1819, this ballroom was the only part known; but at this date the wail if stalagmite was broken through, and a series of chambers exposed to view possessing a cathedral-like appearance, from the stalactites in many instance forming vast columns, by meeting the stalagmites below. Ia the Adelsberg tilvein, numerous specimens are found of the proteui, a kind of lizard that dwell Ja thq bottom of tli9 cayera Ukuit, SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL, . A man in Pittsburt?. Fenn.. has in vented a potato-digger which, it ial claimed, will do tho work of twentyr men. At a recent reception given by M. Louis Ban, in Paris, each of the lady guests about to take part in a dance was presented with a bouquet in the middle of which shone a miniature electric lamp fed by batteries devised by M. Trouve. The world's largest animals are dis appearing. The elephant is said to be rapidly approaching extinction, and In the interest of science it i3 suggested that tho British government interfere to prevent the further destruction of this gigantic creature in India. Nature creates by the million, ap parently that she may destroy by the myriad. She gives life one instant, only that she may snatch it away the next The main difference is that the higher we ascend the less lavish the creation, and the less sweeping the de struction. Thus, while probably but one fish in a thousand reaches ma turity, of every 1,000 children born, 604 attain adulc age. That is, naturo flings aside 999 out of every 1,000 fishes as useless for her purposes, and two out of every five human beings. Dogs, rabbits and Guinea pigs were kept by M. Poincare in an atmosphere resembling that which is usually breathed by persons who use petro leum. The Guinea pigs alone suc cumbed after remaining from one to two years in this medium. The other Animals appeared to resist indefinitely. He nevertheless recommends persons employing petroleum as source of heat or light, or who treaT it indus triously, to keep their stock in closed vessels, to attend to ventilation, and to execute the operations cf rectification, stc, under draught-hoods. From observations made in New York and neighboring cities. Dr. A. A. Julien concludes that the various stones tised for buildings will retain a detent appearance in walls for the following periods : Coarse brown stone, from 5 to 15 years ; laminated fine brown stone, from 25 to 50 years ; compact fine brown stone, from100 to 200 years ; Nova Scotia stone, prob ably from 50 to 100 years ; Ohio Band stone, 100 years ; Caen stcne, from 35 to 40 years; coarse dolomite marble, 40 years ; fine marble, 60 years ; pure calcareous marble, from 50 to 100 years ; granite, according to variety, from 75 to 200 years. Among the chief destroyers of the stones are sol vent substances washed from the air by rains, and the heat of the sun. A White Arache. The Tombstone (Arizona) Republi can of recent date says: A few days since a Hermcsillo dispatch announced the wounding and capture of a white man, supposed to be L. N. Streeter, while heading an Affache foray. Streeter is about fifty years of age and was born in California, his father being captain of an English merchantman trading on the Pacific coast and his mother a native Californian. Of his boyhood or early manhood very little is known, he first c m ng into notice In Arizona by his connection a3 clerk with the San Carlos agency during Governor Safford's administration in this Territory. While there he had some difficulty with the official?, caused, it is said, by his giving aid and comfort to hostile Apaches. Ho left there suddenly and went straight for the camp of Juh and GeroDimo, which was then near Janos Pass, on the line between Sonora and Chihuahua. It is stated that while he was at the agency he became enamored of a squaw be longing to the tribe, nnd it was this fact that induced his leaving civiliza tion to cast his fortunis with the Apaches. Governor Safford offered a large reward for his apprehension, some stories placing the amount as high as $5,000. lie was not appre hended, however, and lias never re turned to Arizona. lie is said by those knowing him intimately, to be very intelligent and well educated, and a manuscript now n the hands of the writer, written while Streeter was at Grenadois, goes to prove it. He speaks the A a;he dialect fluently, and is said to have great influence with them. His stand ing among the savages, by whom he is known as Don Cassamario, may be seen when it is known that the elde-t son of Chief Geronimo is named for turn A Shower of Birds. The most remarkablo phenomenon relating to Iowa 6torn;s occurred at Independence not long ago, when the people at night were aroused by a loud pelting against tho windows, which could not bo account 'd for until the morn'ng, when thousands of birds were found dead all over the city. It had been a literal shower of birds, and, s'ranger still, nobo !y had ever seen such birds before. In size they M ere a trifle larger than a snowbird and their color much like a quail. It is sup posed they were drawn into a vortex way down South and rushed through the atmosphere thoo thousands of miles. The bart ty of railroad traveling is forcibly illustrated in tho statement that ot the 41,1-0,-5 passengers ear ri"dby ra'lrou ls ti rmitiaiing in Bur top Just year lut eijfUt were killed, THE MAN WHO NEVER ADVEfW T15ES. inff, business mnse, the dark and dolefo fate Of him who labors bnt that he may wait: The piles of goods heaped up within his itotJ . Which can't be lees, and never may b more. The man whose life has lost all fort-na't prizos: In fact, the man who never advertiwe. Bing of his start, his great ambitic The capital that gave him cause to hc- His creditlarge, bis fall and ample stock, His bank account as solid aa a rock; Then fell the doom to which the man ws fated Who never advertised, bnt simply wailed. So simply, and so vainly! Splendid signs. Which basement art irradiates and refines: Flate glass show windows, elegantly dressed. Such lyvely clerks, cashiers, and all the rest. Served bnt to show him bow the public size The style of him who never advertises. He waited, and all waited; clerks, cashiers, Saletmen, saleswomen each doligUtfaf dears- Impatient waited all the season through. With precious little for the crowd to do. The public saw that fact there's no deny ing Bat passed the store without a thought of baying. Business was dull, but salaries and rent Went on till cash and credit both were spent; The silly merchant hoped his lack would turn Until the sheriff closed the whole concern. : Now, at a pittance which his soal despises, He works for one who always advertises. , . HUMOR OF THE DAY. Things worth noing Invitations to drink. ' Many patients at our best hospitals receive gruel treatment. Life. . Why are bores like trees ? Because we love them best whell' they leave. Derrick, ' Breaches of promise Those your tailor didn't bring home. Chicago Herald. A bee often meets with reverses, but as a rule he is successful in the end. Rochester Express. "I Bpread my waves from poll to poll," remarked the wig-maker as he rented another capillary adornment. Dr. Potter, of New York, laments "the decay of enthusiasm." He should watch the small boy on the morning of the circus. Rev. Dr. Pusey left a personal estate of more than $80,000. All his property goes to his daughter, Miss Mary Ame lia Brine. That is to say it Is all salted down. A genius advertised "A sewing machine for twenty-five cents in stamps," and his dupes did not see the point until they received a cambric needle. ISookkceper. Birigham Young's grave is utterly neglected, and his widows never visit it. They went there once to cry over his remains, but it made the ground so sloppy that they all caught cold. Joseph Cook has written an article on tobacco, but fails to teach tho secret of the art of carrying cigars in his vestfpocket in such a manner that one's friends cannot detect them, I'uck. A Western paper announces the fact that an acrobat turned a somersault on a locomotive smokestack. That is lothing. We know of an engineer who turned on the steam. Philadel phia News. The New York Sun comes out with the usual announcement that every woman in the land ought to learn how to swim. No woman knows how soon she may get tumbled off a street car. Detroit Free Press. . A Troy girl was made stark, staring mad by the excitement of the prepa rations fur her own wedding. She ought to have waited till she had been married a little while, when she could have found real provocation for get ting mad. It is said that a young lady can never whistle in tha presence of her lover. The reason ia obvioua. He doesn't give her a chance. When she gets her lips in a proper position foi whistling something eLse always occurs. Rochester Post. A San Antonio lawyer doe3 an im menso business, according to his card in a local paper. The card reads : " I attend to all the business in the State and Federal courts." This must make it hard for the other lawyers to make a living. Sifting. A Missouri maiden's mistake: One of the sweetest-looking girls in the State of Missouri dislocated her shoulder the other day by kicking a cat. Handsome is as handsome does, but she should not kick with her right arm. Atchison Ulohe, A girl shouldn't wear a black belt about her waist when she's got a white dress on and i3 walking with a young man in the night time. It makes it appear from a rear window a j if her fellow bad his arm around her waist. Mttfafo Kewtt. Boston girls never sacrifice tho cause of culture to that of philanthropy. A tramp recently aecustcd one of them and asked her if she would be good enough to give him ''the price of an humble meal. "1 haven't any mouey with me," she said, " but it you'll eonr around to the houie utter a ret' home I'll get him to read yo ta? cf Ti rana Lo t-'" , 1