THE POOR MAN'S TOOLS. .
The poor man’s pick and shovel
lead progression on her way:
¥ake enterprise move faster and brin 7
~ They route man’s field of labor, iw
commerce here to stay.-
his boundaries of toil
And produce the wealth of nations from the bed-rock and the soil.
“The poor man’s pick and shovel loo
se emancipation’s chain,
And carry education o’er the prairie and the plain.
They found the mighty city
and the mansions of the rich.
repare the tombs of millionaires and dig the pauper’s ditch.
The poor man’s drill and hammer rend the caverns of the earth;
Bring forth the golden nugget
and the ores of priceless worth.
They pierce old nature’s secrets, and reveal, as ages roll,
The knowledge that is needed to light science to her goal.
3 Laura W. Sheldon, in the New York Times.
Holding up the
smsbrmere, Constance Wilbur looked
sample of pink
#8 ¥ admiringly. “How many yards
would it take for a dress, mother?”
she asked, wistfully.
“Eight,” responded Mrs, Wilbur,
Briefly. She was a little out of pa-
#8emor with Constance on the subject
&f pink cashmere. Ever since the
_ggmestion of Constance’s going to Ma-
#on Academy the next fall had been
settled, the girl had seemed to think
#hat a dress of this kind was neces-
sary fo complete her equipment. She
had inherited certain qualities of per-
sisferrce from her father's family.
*I don’t see why all Aunt Edith’s
dresses are blues and grays,” re-
marked Constance. “At least, all
that she sends to me are.” :
“There are two white dresses, a
#erge and a dotted muslin,” replied
Mrs. Wilbur, who was even then en-
gaged in ripping up the seams of a
soft gray wool affair, “and you ought
2 Be glad enough, Constance, that
Four Aunt Edith sent this box of
glothies. We couldn’t have managed
80 have bought. you so many dresses.
Wou will have enough for a year.”
*Just the same, you would have
Bought me a pink cashmere if Aunt
Edith had not sent that box,” persist-
ed Constance. :
Hrs. Wilbur smiled. “Well, my
dear, very likely I should; but it
would have been your only dress-up
gown. You would have had to wear
# on all occasions. Very likely you
would have been known at school as
“the girl with the pink dress.” Now
wou will have this pretty gray voile,
tke blue chiffon and the two white |
dresses. Besides that, évery dollar
gounts with your father this year.”
“This sample is only one dollar a
yard,” said Constance, smoothing the
delicate wool between her fingers.
Rrs. Wilbur made no reply, and
Qonstance, after a pleading look to-
ward her mother, picked up her books
and left the room. of
“I. could “buy one yard of ii,” she
€hought, ‘as she went down the street
am a delayed errand. ‘I have exactly
ome dollar.”
J" 3nd without thought of the neces-
#Ary car fares that the dollar was in-
tended to pay for, Constance promptly
gurned her steps toward the store
from which she had obtained the
sample.
The clerk held up fold after fold
of tha delicately tinted cashmere, and
®ounstance’s eyes brightened as she
admired it. “It’s just like a pink
»ose,” she declared.
The clerk glanced at the girl smil-
#mszly. “Just the shade to wear with
Brown eyes and brown hair,” he re-
marked,
*1 only want one yard,” said Con-
stance, and suddenly remembered the
gar fares and a much-needed pair of
gloves. “I’d rather wear shabby
gloves than lose this!” she exclaimed.
*@Gloves?”’ said the clerk. ‘Two
spuniers down toward the front,” and
@onstance picked up the small pack-
age, put down the one dollar, and
walked briskly out.
The yard of cashmere was put care-
ally away in a small trunk, where
@oustance stored her treasures; and
@opnstance, the pink sample stiil in
Ber purse, watched the advertise-
ments of mark-downs with anxious
eyes. She said no more about a pink
egashmere, and Mrs. Wilbur congratu-
Eated herself that, after all, Constance
Bad seen the folly of teasing for a
dress which she did not need and
which her father could not afford to
purchase.
Before the summer was over Mrs.
Wilbur had occasion to speak to Con-
stance on the subject of the use of
SROnEY.
*1 know, my dear girl, that your
g@llowance is small,” she remarked
sme day, with a disapproving glance
at Constance’s worn ribbon belt, “but
¥ 2m sure it is sufficient for the little
g&ings that we expect you to buy for
»purself. Your gloves are shabby,
ang that belt is really worn out.”
Constance flushed, but she made no
explanation. Mrs. Wilbur sighed a
Httle, finding an excuse for Constance
#m the thought that a girl of sixteen
doubtless found soda-water, choco-
Bates and car rides of even more im-
portance than fresh gloves and fault-
Jess belt; ribbons. ;
*1 suppose mother would think that
-—-
I had thrown my money away if she
could see these!” chuckled Constance
that evening, as she opened her treas-
ure trunk and took out a carefully
wrapped package.
She undid the wrappings and
spread the contents out on her bed.
There were eight or nine Dieces of
pale pink cashmere. The longest
strip was the first yard purchased,
for which Constance had recklessly
paid one dollar. How often she had
regretted her haste, for that week
she had discovered that there were
such things as remnant sales. Sam-
ple in hand, she had gone from store
to store, turning over piles of short-
length cashmeres, now and then suc-
cessful ‘in securing a match for her
goods.
Pieces of three-fourths of a yard
had been secured for twenty-five
cents. A remnant of ga quarter of a
yard had been bought for five cents.
She was sure that two yards more
would give her material enough for
a dress, but time for sales was grow-
ing short. In two weeks more she
would have to start for Mason Acad-
emy, and Constance realized that io
make this dress would require not
only patience and planning, but more
work and time than would go to the
making of an ordinary gown. :
“It will have to be tucked and
tucked and tucked to hide the piec-
“Why, father,” she exclaimed,
“what are you after?” :
“I'm afraid you’ll tell,” he replied,
soberly.
Constance laughed. She and her
father were always the best of com-
panions, and as she looked up into
his kindly face, she resolved that she
would tell him all about the remnant
dress. :
“I won’t tell, honor bright,” she
responded, laughingly.
“Well, I want to buy a present for
a voung lady who is going away to
school,” he said. ‘It is to be a sur-
prise present, you see, and I want to
be very sure that she will like it.”
‘Of course she will,” declared Con-
stances, / :
“This young lady belongs to rather
a queer family,” went on Mr. Wilbur;
‘at least, some people say so. I al-
vays admired the family very much
myself. Well, this girl wanted a pink
dress—I happened to hear quite by
accident—and she didn’t get over
wanting it; and I thought to myself
that, being like her father, she might
think that dress was of more impor-
ed out this morning to buy eight
vards of pink cashmere.”
“But you can’t afford
claimed Constance.
“I am going to afford it,” Mr. Wil-
bur declared, so firmly that Con-
stance laughed again. “That is, if
you will go with me and select the
right color.” 7s
“Wait just a moment, dad,” for
Constance’s glance had fallen upon
two lengths of rose-colored cashmere,
“There’s a yard in one piece and a
yard and a half in the other, miss,”
said the clerk. ‘You can have the
two pieces for eighty cents.”
“Now, dad,” said Constance, having
paid for her purchase, “I have a story
to tell you about your only daughter.
I suppose mother has told you how
much I wanted a pink dress?” Mr.
Wilbur started as if surprised.
“Yes, I did,” said Constance, laugh-
ing, ‘‘and the more I thought about
it the more I wanted it. You see,
Aunt Edith’s clothes are not just the
colors I like best, and I just made
up my mind that I must think out
some way to get a pink cashmere,”
and Constance looked up at her fa-
ther.
He nodded understandingly. *wWil-
it!” ex-
ings,” Constance decided, “but I'll do
it all, and I'm sure that mother will
0
The success of perserveran
The pleasure of working.
or poor, are the idle.
The dignity of simplicity.
man is “on.”
The worth of character.
The power of kindness.
ures fail.
The influence of example.
cept, in showing the way.
The obligation of duty.
The wisdom of economy.
more than he saves.
The virtue of patience.
waits.” :
help me plan it, for if anybody ever
earned anything, I've earned a pink
dress.” And Constance recalled her
many tiresome tramps during the
warm summer days from store to
store, her many disappointments, and
the doing without of all the little
things which she had been accus-
tomed to spend money for, but which
for the past six months she had reso-
lutely denied herself. :
“Your things are all ready now,
dear,” said Mrs. Wilbur, a few days
later. “I don’t think that you will
need anything in the way of dresses
fcr an entire year; and you can go!
out to Aunt Egdith’s Saturday for a
week and get a breath of the country.
I am sorry that you have had to stay
in the city all summer, but, as you
hear me say so often, every dollar has
to count.” ] .
“Mother, I'd rather not go out to
Aunt Edith’s,” Constance said. There
was to be a remnant sale on Saturday.
It would be her last chance, she
thought, and she must not miss it.
Mrs. Wilbur looked at her daughter
in surprise; then her face softened.
“It’s the child’s last week at home,”
she said to herself, ‘and she wants
to stay with her father and me as
long as possible.” So she replied in a
very tender tone, “Very well, dear,”
and a load was lifted from Con-
stance’s mind. She had feared that
her mother might insist upon the
visit.
Early Saturday morning Constance
was at the store advertising the rem-
nant sale. As she eagerly turned
over the pile of delicately tinted -cash-
meres, she heard her own’ name:
spoken, and glanced.up, to “see her.
Keep These Twelve Things
in Mind.
The value oi time. Lost capital may be restored by dili-
gent use of experience; time lost is lost forever.
it” always brings the hoped-for results.
real value is a clear conscience,
It wins when all coercive meas-
Your concern should not be 0
much what you get, as what you do for what you get.
“All things come to him who
The improvement of talent.
which compounds itself by exercise.
The joy of originating. The happiest man is he who does
the best thing first.—The Master Printer.
bur all over,” he said.
“You see, my allowance just covers
ce. “Keeping everlastingly at
The only really unhappy, rich
When the “frills” are off the
In the last analysis the only
Practice does more than pre-
The man who saves makes
Talent is the only capital
3
things,’
first I bought one yard off the piece.
Afier that I learned about remnant
sales, and, dad, I've bought the rest
went on Constance, ‘so at
in remnants. I've got the last piece
here. There are over nine yards in
all—eleven pieces of them—and they
cost me three dollars and twenty
cents.”
“What did your mother say,” ques-
tioned Mr, Wilbur, “and how on earth
are you going to make a dress out of
those bits?”
“Mother doesn’t know anything
about it,” said Constance. “But it
was all my own money, dad. I just
went without some little things. I
suppose it will be lots of work to
make it. Do you suppose that mother
will care?”
“I suppose she will think that you
are a Wilbur, all right!” chuckled
her father. ‘‘Talk about persistence!
Well, I guess there are not many
girls of sixteen who would have
strength of will enough to have
earned a dress that way. For as I
look at it, Constance, you have earned
every yard of that dress.”
“There is only quarter of a yard in
one piece,” said Constance.
Mr. Wilbur laughed again, and re-
garded her approvingly. “Now run
home and show your pieces to moth-
er,” he said, ‘‘and tell her all about
it. And if any trimmings are needed,
just let me know.”
“I've saved a dollar for those,”
replied Constance.
‘““Mother, I've got a pink cashmere
dress,” said the girl, as she brought
ber bundle of remnants into the sit-
ting'room. ot :
Mrs. Wilbur looked up with a little
father standing beside her.
‘smile. “So you met your father.
tance than it really is, so I have start-
Well, my dear, he seemed to think
you deserved the dress, even if you
did not need it, and I was weak-
minded enough to give in. You gee,
when a Wilbur is really determined
about anything, somebody has to give
in.”
“But, mother, I remembered that
every dollar counted this year, and so
father did not have to buy it. I
bought it myself—in remnants,” and
Constance rapidly told the story of
the remnant sales, holding up piece
after piece of cashmere before her
mother’s astonished eyes, as she de-
scribed how she had acquired it, and
told of her long walks to save car
fares, and the series of other small
economies.
“I haven't bought an ice cream
soda this summer!” she concluded,
dramatically, and joined in her moth-
er’s laughter.
“It will be almost like making the
cloth,” declared Mrs. Wilbur, holding
up the narrow strips, “but by tuck-
ing, I'm pretty sure that the piecing
won’t show.” ;
“That’s what I thought,” agreed
Constance, happily.
The cashmere was undoubtedly the
most becoming of Constance’s gowns,
and although it was spoken of as ‘‘the
remnant dress” by Constance and her
mother, Mr. Wilbur always referred
to it as ‘the Wilbur will dress.”’—
‘Youth’s Companion.
082€020000000000000000020
TRAGEDY OF THE 2
ARCTIC SNOWS. @
©000000000000900000300000
A story learned from a modern
trail was related in my hearing by a
gentleman who had spent a recent
winter hunting in Alaska. Tramping
down a valley one day he noticed a
little group of wild sheep (bighorn
ewes) coming slowly down a gulch
toward the valley, but as he had no
desire for them he went steadily on.
Coming back a few hours later, he
discovered at the mouth of the gulch
the trail of three or four sheep which
had turned at a leisurely gait up the
valley. He followed after, toward his
camp; but presently came to a point
where the tracks changed in an in-
stant from a peaceful trail to a scat-
tered, leaping confusion of footprints
and the marks of a bloodly struggle
which had continued for several rods,
when he came upon the mangled body
of a sheep, whose flesh and skull in
the region of one eye had been
crushed and torn away; and from it
ran the footprints of a lynx. Going
back to the scene of the attack he
climbed to an overhanging rock, and
there found the tracks of the lynx and
the print of its crouched body. The
story was plain. The cat had seen
the sheep, had chosen this ‘‘coign of
vantage,” and had waited until its
victims had walked beneath. One
leap had landed it upon the back of
the nearest ewe, when its first act was
to rip out the eye and claw its way
through the orbit into the brain.
Meanwhile the poor beast struggled
on, carrying its impacable foe, till it
dropped dead. ' That history of the
tragedy, written in the Arctic snows,
told how small a cat was able to kill
speedily and surely so large and
tough an animal as the bighorn; and
with this hint the hunter speedily af-
terward gathered plentiful evidence
that this is the regular method of the
northern lynx—aquite a new fact in
Recreation,
WORDS OF WISDOM.
Nine times out of ten patience is
pure laziness. ’
The home is the bulwark of the
State, and the cook is the foundation
of the home.
Some women slander another mere-
ly to be able to confide to her that
somebody is saying things about her.
A man thinks he has a natural
capacity for history if he can remem-
ber the year his home town won the
baseball championship. ”
It’s a hot passion that gets no
shower baths. 4
The way to make the furnace burn
best ‘is to pick out a warm day to
do it.
What makes a woman so devoted
to her husband is he hardly ever de-
serves it.
It takes a good deal of the edge off
an engagement for a girl when there
isn’t anybody left to whom she can
tell it’s a secret.
Women make truces with one an-
other; seldom real friendships.
The more money a man can steal
the less it seems like a criz:ue.
Falling in love, like going in debt,
means a hard score to settle after-
ward.
The riskiest thing about a man’s
proposal to a girl is how sure she is
to accept him.
A man’s idea of a wife with a good
head for money matters is where she
will save her allowance till he bor-
rows it and then not expect him to
tions of a Bachelor,”
r Press. ;
the history of both animals.—From.
pay. it back again.—From ‘Reflec~
in the New York.
on
GIRLS' INCREASING HEIGHT.
Comparison of Dress Measurements
To-day and Fifty Years Ago.
A search of the garret for old fash-
ioned clothes ‘“‘to dress us in’ does
not yield so much as it once did. Be-~
hold, when great-grandmother’s .
gowns come to light they are all too
small for the young generation. It
is not a mere matter of stays and
busks, for if it were, a tightened
corset lacing might be endured for
a single evening. But the girl of to-
day is hopelessly taller than her fore-
bear, and there is no remedy for the
skirt, waist and sleeves too short.
The increase in the height of Amer-
ican women has doubtless gone on
steadily for fifty years, but measure-
ments have altered markedly in the
last ten years. A skirt of forty-one
inches was considered long in 1895.
Now skirts of forty-four and forty-
five inches are made by wholesale.
Grandmother stood barely five feet in
her shoes, but her daughter measures
five feet four inches, and her athletic
granddaughter measures from five
feet seven to five feet eleven in her
stockings.
The increase in height is not an un-
mixed good. To begin with, long
clothes cost more than short ones.
Six inches added to length of skirt
and bodice make an actual increase
in the cost of material. Moreover,
tall girls, especially if they are slen-
der, are not so easily fitted in the
cheaper ready made garments, The
large sizes all seem calculated for
stout women.
Strangely enough, the average
stature of the men of the coming gen-
eration has not increased so fast as
that of the women, and there are
many men not so tall as the girls of
their own age. Such a man fears to
dance or walk or even to talk with
a woman to. whom he must look up
physically, whatever he may prefer
in her of moral superiority. It is
little short of tragic when a long
line of tall girls files past a group of
short men, each avoiding the other
with blank gaze and the secret re-
flection, “How I should look with
Too Wise For That.
“Rupert Guinness was defeated for
Parliament,” said a magazine editor.
“Guinness I know well. He is a
great admirer of our American bock
beer. He imports a keg of bock beer
every spring.
“Guinness, the famous stout ma-
ker, told me a bock beer story last
month, fo
“He said that about this time last -
vear he heard that an American
friend, being ill, had attempted sui-
cide. So he wired to America to ask
if this was true. His friend wired
back:
“ ‘Suicide story false. Wouldn't
be such a fool as to kill myself be-
fore the bock beer season.’ ’’—Wash-
ington Star.
Yielding to the Majority.
A Philadelphia physician, in de-
claring that insanity was frequently
productive of sound logic tempered
by" wit, told the story of a patient he
once met in an asylum.
He came across this patient while
strolling through the grounds, and,
stopping, spoke to him. After a brief
conversation on conventional topics
the physician said:
“Why are you here?”
“Simply a difference of opinion,”
replied the patient. ‘I said all men
were mad, and all men said I was
mad-—and the majority won!”’—Lip-
pincott’s.
A God-Fearing Set.
The reverence for the Sabbath in
Scotland sometimes takes a form one
would hardly have anticipated.
An old Highland man once ex-
plained to an English tourist:
“They're a God-fearing set o’ folks
here, sir, deed they are, and I'll give
ye an instance o’t. Last Sabbath,
just as the kirk was skalin’, there
was a drover chap frae Dumfries
along the road, whistlin’ and lookin’
as happy as if it ta middle o’ ta week.
Weel, sir, our laads is a God-fearing
set o’ laads, and they just set upon
him and almost killed him.”—Tit-
Bits.
Not Afraid of Slipping.
Michael Dugan, a journeyman
plumber, was sent by his employer
to the Hightower mansion to repair
a gas leak in the drawing room.
When the butler admitted him he
said to Dugan: :
“You are requested to be careful
of the floors. They have just been
polished.”
‘“They’s no danger iv me slippin’:
on thim,”’ replied Dugan. ‘I hov
spikes in me shoes.”’—Lippincott’s
Magazine.
In the Belgian Parliament there is
an age minimum of twenty-five for
deputies and forty for senators.
Moving pictures of the flight of in-
sects have been made with exposures
of 1-42,000 second.
~ Crime in the United Kingdom costs -
4
‘the Seate:about:$30,000,000 a year. ©