| I
JUST PALS 1
By BESSIE SLAVIT.
——B 111 liM 111 111 I 111 l *Uli\ llilllll^MKW
"What shall I do? He is coming
home!"
For weeks past these thoughts filled
the mind of Fav Foster, who had drift
ed into a kind of informal engage
ment with Bob Baxter before he left
for France.
It had been a boy and girl friend
ship. Both popular, Bob and Fay were
constantly together during their se
nior year in high school. Everywhere,
at baseball, at dances, at school enter
tainments, Bob was her faithful escort.
As he possessed admirable qualities,
he was a very congenial companion;
most particularly, because he always
strove to please Fay.
But that was four years ago, when
Fay was only eighteen. She had chang
ed considerably since then, and the
chief factor in her change was her ac
quaintance with liucii Wrentham.
How well she remembered meeting
him at a dance two years ago.
Hugh was o! i r than Bob and had
traveled a great deal. It was interest
ing to hear a recital of his travels; she
could listen forever for the sheer en
joyment of hearing his voice. What
a delightful spring and summer they
spent together!
Then the parting! Alas! It was the
only sad experience In her young life—
that parting from Hugh.
Fay had never written to Bob about
Hugh—Bob, who admired her so much
and was so proud of his "little pal,"
as he called her.
Now, Bob was coming home —he
might call at the house this very after
noon ! How could she tell him ! How
could she hurt him, he who was so
easily wounded In his deep regard for
her.
She perceived two men In uniform
coming at a quick pace towards the
house. She arose from the big arm
chair in which she had been nervous
ly knitting, walked to the window and
peered out. Yes; it was Bob, grown
broader, perhaps, but with the same
peculiar gait. But the other? Could
it be he, that other who looked so
much like Hugh? He hadn't written
that he expected to arrive. Did he
mean to surprise her? She watched
intently until they came nearer, when
she saw that it was indeed Hugh—and
she uttered a sharp cry. Her heart
bounded with joy, her whole body
quivered as she recognized him.
Good heavens! Why was he coming
with Bob? Wild fanatea flitted through
her mind and she felt a? If a cyclone
was carrying her off her feet and
whirling her round and round.
Bob was the first to greet her, cry
ing cheerily;
"Well, Fay, old girl, won't you wel
come a fellow back from the jaws of
death?"
"Bob !—Hugh!—what—how—" but
unable to say more, she collapsed at
their feet.
"Fay, why don't you say something?"
Bob asked soothingly. "Is anything
wrong?"
Fay could only glance at Hugh ap
pealingly, for she could not speak. Al
though her face betrayed her secret,
Bob had already divined the cause of
her agitation. Ho motioned to Hugh
to leave the room, then, drawing a
chair to Fay's side:
"Fay, dear little chum, please don't j
feel distressed. I already know the!
truth." Fay cast a furtive glance at !
his face —half surprised, half fright
ened. "You see," be continued, "I met
Hugh oi board ship coming home. We i
became inseparables and pledged an
everlasting friendship. Hugh, know
ing nothing of our old friendship,
■spoke of your mutual love. I then told
him that we were school friends and
he was delighted to talk to someone
who knew you. When we arrived he
insisted upon my coming with him, de
spite my remonstrances. Everything j
is just as it should be. Fay, and I
shall he delighted to see you both hap
py together."
Fay seemed to gain new strength. .
The color mounted to her cheeks and
her eyes glistened. -Rising from the
chair, she held out her hands to him.
"Rob. I thought you—you —"
Bob laughed —a joyful, relieved
laugh it was —and replied:
"Fay. dear, four years ago, when
we were both too young to judge wise
ly, we made a premature decision. As
for me. I shall always esteem you Im
mensely and shall never forget the de
lightful times spent with you, little pal,
but" —here he blushed and paused
awkwardly; then, while a happy ex
pression spread over his countenance,
he boyishly cried: "Fay, here is a
picture of the sweetest little girl in
the world to me, a girl whom I met
In Paris;" and he opened his watch
case, which disclosed to Fay the love
ly face of a girl about twenty years
of age. "Now that everything is hap
pily adjusted between you and me I
shall sail to France within a month
and claim the most wonderful Ameri
can girl who braved the dangers of
war and brought me back to life."
"Oh, Bob. I'm so glad!" was all she
said, as tears of joy trickled down her
cheeks.
"Hugh must be very impatient. I'll
send him in," and Bob rushed from the
room.
A moment later Hugh entered, and
embracing Fay, said softly:
"Fay, my own darling, I've come
back to build a paradise for you and
me, my little queen."
Three weeks later Mr. and Mrs.
Hugh Wrentham bid Bob farewell ou
board the boat which was to carry
to his happiness in France.
(Copyright. 1919. by the McClure News
paper Syndicate.)
OLD AGE ONLY A MICROBE
■
Scientist Claims It Is Not Necessary
That People Should Feel Bur
dened With Years.
It seems that according to most re
cent discoveries old age is not a natural
result of years, but is a microbe. At
least this is claimed by the scientist, |
Metcnnikoff of the Pasteur institute in
Paris.
It is not necessary that people
should feel burdened with years and
grow feeble and exhausted as the
months roll into years. All that is !
due to a microbe in the body, and
when science can once discover the
antitoxin which can successfully com
bat the poisonous effects of the
microbe, we can live on, perhaps not
longer, but without discomfort until
the end comes. He bases his theory
on his observations of manmmals as
compared with birds.
A dog or horse, for instance, shows
distinct signs of senility. They grow
fecuie and decrepit, and break down
in every way. But birds do not. A
dtii.tt tw ,ity years old shows
5 c.i advanced age. Parrots
rora: in for long years in a youthful
r - f e avd retain their brilliant plum
r»" \ In o?Fe of ?. parroquet,
• r.ji, according to reliable informa
; . J..; : , venty to seventy-five years
o!d t it is impossible to recognize old
, so entirely normal is its appear
ance and so easy its movements.
The cause, it is claimed, lies in the
difference in the intestines in mam
mals and birds. The latter are so
built that the microbes which are so
abundant in the Intestines of the mam
iu.u.lo uo not or cannot accumulate in
tne bird. In the mammal they in
crease from year to year, and the
toxic effect from these intestinal
sources produces the phenomena
which we call "old age."—Chicago
Tribune.
The Tale of the Earring.
A curious instance of the survival |
and revival of a fashion which orig
inated in the remotest times is the
earring. Worn by the kings of Egypt,
and extremely popular among the la
dles of ancient Rome, It subsequently
lost favor until the gay day of the
Stuart period, after which it again
dropped out, and has now once more
regained popularity. The very earliest
mention of this form of decoration is
to bo found in the Book of Genesis.
Jacob, it will be remembered, on
reaching Bethel burled certain strange
idols, amonj them some earrings be
longing to his family. Doubtless these
ornaments were regarded purely in a
propitiatory light as amulets or talis
mans, such being still their principal
office in the east today. That they are
of eastern origin is certain, and among
Orientals, with the exception of
Greeks and Hebrews, it has always
been the custom for both sexes to
wear them, while frequently only one
ear was adorned. Among other races,
however, earrings were always worn
in pairs, and by the women only.
On Modern Man.
The late Emerson Taylor, our con
sul at Port of Spain," said a Washing
ton official, "hailed from Dry Run. and
he had a fund of happy Dry Run hu
mor.
Taylor once compared a disgruntled
brother consul to a Dry Run house
wife.
"This woman," he said, "often took
a queer, disgruntled view of things.
Thus sho said one day:
" 'I don't think the prodigal son was
so bad, after all.'
"'He wa'n't no good to his family,'
said her husband.
" 'That's a fact,' said the Dry Run
woman. 'But when he got home, all
the same, he knowed enough to keep
his mouth shet. If he'd been like the
twentieth century man. by crinus, the
first thing he'd done would 'a' been
to find fault with the way the fatted
calf was cooked.'"
Among the Cobwebs.
Bishop Candler of Atlanta, apropos
of worldly parsons, said the other
day:
"There was a worldly parson of this
type in Philadelphia, a great fox hunt
er, whom a Spruce street Quaker
took in hand.
" 'Friend,' said the Quaker, 'I un
derstand thee's clever at fox catch
ing.'
"'I have few equals and no su
periors at that sport,' the parson com
placently replied.
" 'Nevertheless, friend,' said the
Quaker, 'if I were a fox I would hide
where thee would never find me.'
"'Where would you hide?' asked
the parson, with a frown.
" 'Friend,' said the Quaker, 'I would
hide in thy study.' "
Price of a Son.
Professor Allen Hoben of the Uni
versity of Chicago says that one bov,
reared in babyhood to the age of eigh
teen years, costs his parents $4,000,
even if they are se poor that they must
live in the slums. Wealthy parents,
he says, pay more, and he adds: "A
son is truly a costly luxury." Yes, ac
| cording to Dr. Hoben's figures, even
I the slum father could in eighteen
years own a line touring automobile
for the sum he expends in rearing a
son. And if he rears six sons —that's
$24,000 —on a salary of $l.OO0 —that's
$lB,OOO in eighteen years—think of the
art gems he could buy for his little
| cottage. Wonderful what the science
of statistics can put into our heads,
isn't it? '
Feared the Worst,
"I think she is losing her voice."
"Possibly; but I'm afraid it will last
through this performance."
I GOLDEN HEART
=
By AGNES G. BROGAN.
Sallie sat on the back porch and
peeled peaches; she wore a pink print
dress and cocked her head upon one
side occasionally, to whistle in imita
tion of a robin in a nearby tree. Sallie
seamed always to be perfectly happy;
and because she had so very little to
make her happy, folks wondered and
thought her queer. She was different
from those around her, different from
the beautiful sister who was Sallie's
joy and pride.
How it had happened that Phyllis
enjoyed life's benefits and privileges,
while Sallie worked about the neat
home, no one knew. Least of all. Sallie
herself. The tasks had just naturally
fallen to her sh ire when the sacrific
ing mother laid them down forever.
And when Phvllis returning from col
lege regarded wi'h veiled contempt
the simplicity of her sister's daily
routine. Sal'ie cheerfully hastened to
brighten, as it mi n suit her, her sis
ter's days. So Phyllis, beautiful and
well go "in d, rod; 1 in costly motorcars
or entertained woman friends as she
was entertained. Sallie never entered
into the parties. She felt constrained
and ill at ease among the friends of
Phyllis. Their easy chatter about
matters of which she knew nothing
embarrassed her. Also it was an un
necessary strain upon old Dad's pocket
book —so Sally said—to provide party
frocks for two daughters.
"The affairs were really a silly
waste of time," she lurther confided.
And old Dad, whose law practice
grew less and less, was relieved by
Sallie's decision. She had not told
Dad of a recent experience, when
Phyllis had coldly asked her to attend
a meeting of her club, and had been
humiliated, Sallie knew, by her own
lack of assurance. She had been a
"dolt," she reflected sadly; too con
fused by the strangeness of It all to
answer intelligently simple questions
put to her.
So Sallie went back to her own
life with its constant duties; and be
cause old Dad confided to her the
anxieties of his decreasing income
Sallie had accepted the application
of two men from the city who wished
to spend several weeks as boarders In
the country town.
The objections of Phyllis had been
overruled by Dad; Phyllis was re
signed to the coming of the civil en
gineer, impressed with that young
man's distinguished appearance. But
the other would-be boarder she desig
nated as "Impossible."
"Michael Dawn's references were of
the best," her father told her; "Judge
Lewis himself was sponsor."
Michael Dawn's appearance was
certainly not prepossessing—that Is,
as far as clothes were concerned. For
he wore a rusty velveteen jacket, and
as the days passed he sat for the most
part back in the garden smoking an
old briar pipe. At meal times he re
sponded laconically to the civil engi
neer's conversation, and had smiles for
no one but Sallie. When quaint little
Sallie entered the room Michael
Dawn's fine eyes would light with wel
come. He liked to sit, too, upon the
back porch with Sallie, helping in peel
ing the peaches or joining in her whis
tled conversation with the robin.
His fine eyes would grow luminous
and he would murmur again his new
name for her, "Little Golden Heart.*'
And though Michael Dawn was also
"queer" Sallie's trust and admiration
were unfailing. There were days when
he would absent himself from the
home, with neither excuse nor apology.
When he came back at twilight he
would tell Sallie that he had been
"very busy." And Sallie, wondering,
would yet nod and smile without
question.
The summer was hot and Sallie
grew pale with her tireless labor.
Tlfese peaceful evenings in the com
panionship of Michael had come to be
her relaxation and exceeding joy.
"Why," he asked her impatiently,
"do you not ask your sister to help
you?"
"She wouldn't know how," Sallie
gave ingenuous reply. "We were born
different. Phyllis is a golden butter
fly, made to hover over flowers. I'm
ihnt busy little ant —happiest in the
building of my home."
One day Phyllis came grudgingly.
"You will have to attend the big club
reception, Sallie," she said, "or people
will talk. Couldn't you fix over my
old white dress for yourself? John
Stewart, the author, is to be there;
everyone is crazy to meet him. His
books are very popular, you know;
he's a student of types."
Sallie hated to go. She confided her
trepidation to Michael Dawn.
"Don't you be afraid," he consoled
her: "I'll be there and I will talk to
i you."
So Sallie went. The brilliantly
lighted rooms, the scent of many flow
ers, the people all crowding around
one man's tall figure confu-ed her.
Then the man, turning, was but Mi
chael Dnwn after all. Directly he
came and tucked Sallie's hniul beneath
his arm.
"Don't be frightened, Sallie," he
said. "I am John Stewart: that's my
pen name. Phyllis, all of them are
surprised; they'll be more surprised
when they read my new book. 'Little
Golden Heart.' They will appreciate
you then when you are far away."
Tenderly Michael Dawn smiled into
Sallie's upraised, wondering eyes. "For
; you'll be traveling far with your book-
I writing husband, Golden Heart." he
aid: "he needs you—his joy and in
j spiration."
NOW FUTURIST FACE POWDER
Mauve, Yeliew and Green Tints Made
by Fashion's Leaders From
Pearl Dust.
The post-impressionist artists, paint
ing. as they do, mauve, yellow, green
and brown flesh tints, have given a
new idea to manufacturers of cos
metics.
The fashionable woman may now
tint her complexion in any tone as
easily as she may assume a toilette in
that color. One manufacturer is show
ing face powders in shades called vio
let yellow, emerald, old rose and
ashen rose.
These new tints are recommended
only for evening wear, as it is gener
ally admitted that they would be too
grotesque for daylight. The amazing
thing, however, is that they really
look well on the skin, and when ap
plied give only the faintest sugges
tion of shadowy color. Thus, when
the mauve powder is >ed, the shad
ows have a sort of purple bloom, which
is rather becoming ind lends softness
to the face, accentuating in small de
gree the expression of the eyebrows
and eyelashes, and also intensifying
the color of the eyes. The purple
int is usually recommended for bru
nettes with blue or v ray eyes.
Yellow po\;dv-r is fluttering to
blondes, who need to intensify the yel
low in their skins to correspond with
the shadows cast from golden hair.
This intensifies the type and makes it
much warmer looking, therefore much
harmonious than if the face were tint
ed with either white or so-called flesh
colored powder.
The most difficult of all the new
shades to conceive as having a place
among beauty applications is the green
powder. But through demonstration
it is proved that certain types of col
oring look well with the green tint,
notably ashen blondes who have the
reflection of green lights from the
hair. This is also recommended for
types too florid, whether blonde or
brunette. It is said to give a cool,
clean look to such skins.
The rose color is not at all the old
fashioned flesh pink, but a sort of
salmon tinted old rose. This is a
color which would be well suited to a
neutral brunette, as it would warm the
type, giving body and a look of
strength to the skin and a consequent
—healthlike flush.
It is an interesting fact that these
new cosmetics are made from powder
of real pearls, a discovery of somewhat
recent date, though for some time in
quite current use in Paris.
Woman May Fly Ocean.
Miss Ruth Bancroft Law and her
brother, F. Rodman Law, are to try a
flight across the Atlantic in a biplane.
They expect to make the trip in July.
"The flight will be from Newfound
land to the Irish coast," said Miss Law
today, "and I shall take my brother.
I do not think there is the slightest
doubt that we can do it. We shall
carry no pontoons or boats, but under
the wings of our machine we will
have three floats of hollow tin, so in
case of a fall the apparatus will float.
"Boats would be too heavy to carry,
and in case we fell they would be
of no use in the ocean. Then, again,
by not carrying them we get away
from just so much weight. We shall
have to carry from 90 to 100 gallons
of gasoline, and this will be enough
for about 30 hours' flying. We expect
to make 100 miles an hour on our way
across. Lord Northcliffe has offered
a prize ror the successful flight across
the Atlantic, and we are after it."
Light Plant Runs Itself.
An automatic electric lighting plant,
designed for private house use, is
mounted on two cross girders for con
venient portability, and comprises an
oil engine, dynamo, automatic start
ing switch and water tank.
The small battery also supplied has
a capacity much below that of the
charging plant. The apparatus is so
designed that while the battery is
charged and not at w r ork the engine
is at rest, and it continues at rest
while the lamps turned on are being
fed sufficiently by the stored current.
But when the battery voltage fall 1 ?
below a certain pohit the automatic
switch sets the machinery in motion.
The starting current —quickly cut off
by a time-limit circuit breaker —turns
the dynamo, and this starts the en
gine, which runs as long as needed.
When the lessened .use of current
permits the battery to become suffi
ciently charged the switch stops the
engine.
Why Youngster Was Mad.
"You're a nice little fellow," said
the new pastor to the small son of the
household where he was making his
first call. "Come over here and shake
hands and let's get acquainted, won't
you?"
"Nope," was the grudging answer.
"Won't, either."
"But why not. sonnie?" from the
surprised visitor. "Why don't you
want to be friends with me? I haven't
done anything to hurt or vex you, have
I?"
"Yep! Had to have my face an'
hands washed an' my Sunday clothes
cn just 'cause you've come."
Perfectly Candid.
"They've not the slightest bit of af
fection."
"That so?"
"No, they don't say 'pass the cream'
when they know there's nothing but
milk in the pitcher."
Father Knew.
Son —Father, what is -he meaning
of " v eni, Vidi, Vici""
Father (without glancing up from
1 paper)— Some coilege yeil. I guess
Tudge.
THE RED UMBRELLA j
By JACK LAWTON.
The old lady in the dressing gown
raised an imperious finger.
"You may now go to luncheon. Miss
Barrie," she said.
And Miss Barrie. who had been
changed by fortune's wand from
merry Betty Berrie of Willowdale
into a serious minded "companion,"
closed the desk over various lavender
tinted notes, and gazed through the
window.
"It is raining." she murmured. "I
shall get a wetting."
"Nonsense!" ejaculated the old
lady, "you will take my umbrella."
"But it is such a beautiful thinff."
Betty demurred —"if anything should
happen to it —"
"Viiat could happen to an umbrella
between here and the restaurant?"
her employer caustically remarked.
So graciously thanking her, the
"companion" picked up the umbrella
und went. At least "companion" was
the word under which Betty'* posi
tion had been designated in the want
columns of the city paper, which
found its way to her village home.
When nhe had closed th«? lately
desolated home and started out upon
the path of independence. Betty found
that being "companion" in her case,
meant, a combination of nurse and
secretary as well. And doing lier
very best, met with slight reward.
She wondered wistfully, as she
trudged on toward the restaurant, why
it should happen that the formerly
cherished daughter of the old village
doctor should bo walking wet pave
ments, with no rubbers to protect her
thin shoes, while other girls raised
no more carefully flew past in luxuri
ous cars. These girls wore rich furs,
often their own hands controlled the
shining machines, while they laughed
back In confident happiness at others
as fortunate as they. Some were mar
ried, Betty was sure of this, from the
proud proprietary air of their mascu
line escorts. And the new thought
came to- her, that she would never
ride, a proud wife in her own auto
mobile. If, indeed, she married at all
It would be to some tolling man
w hose humble home would necessitate
the constant labor of her hands.
"No," reflected Betty, "every way
you look at it. life's luxuries are not
for me. And after all —" her smile
flashed out. at the thought—"the rain
is not raining on me, and I'm carry
ing an expensive umbrella."
It was a beautiful umbrella. The
Imperious old lady's wealthy daughter
had given it to her as a gift.
Her despondent mood had sudden
ly vanished —it was good to be young
and alive, it was good to be —of use.
Through the gloom the restaurant
lights beckoned across the way.
Betty started to cross the road, then
drew back at the warning horn of an
auto. She realized, as a girl threw
back an apologetic smile, that one of
the favored ones had almost run her
down. She must be more careful, the
alarming scream of the auto horn
seemed still to ring confusedly In her
ears.
She had a glimpse of a white-faced
terror-stricken man at the wheel, and
then desperately Betty clutched the
pearl handle of the red silk umbrella,
pushing with all her strength its frail
protection against the black object
which almost crushed her.
Almost —but at that very moment,
the brakes did their work. Panting
like a frustrated animal the automo
bile stood still, while the white-faced
man opened the door, and sprang to
Betty's side.
"You are not hurt?" he gasped, "it
—did not—hit you?"
Without awaiting an answer, he
picked her up quickly in his arms and
seated her in the car.
"Didn't you hear me souffcl the
horn?" he gently persisted.
Then out of her vast relief, Betty
laughed.
"Oh! I heard horns," she said,
"everywhere. I do not blame you.
You see —I'm from the country."
The man heaved a sigh of relief,
then he also smiled.
"And don't you know," he added
whimsically, "that it's useless to try
to stop automobiles with a red signal;
a train might stop perhaps, but not a
machine."
"It was not useless in this case,"
Betty told him, then she looked down
in consternation.
"It is broken," she said aghast,
"smashed to pieces. It was a bor
rowed umbrella, and I never could
buy one like it."
"As for that," said the man, he was
busily writing his name and address
across a page from a note book —"I
will be glad to replace the umbrella.
That's my plain duty. When you find
one just like it, send the bill to me.
And now —shall I drive you home?"
Betty was reading with wide eyes
thf man's scribbled name. It was a
name of prominence which she had
often read quoted upon matters of
authority.
At her hesitation, he turned again
toward her, and smiled.
"Or." he suggested "shall we go
and purchas" that umbrella now ?
"If you please," Betty gratefully
agreed.
And that leaning back ajrainst
the soft cushions, w»s to be but the
first of many. For as Betty rides
now, at the side of the driver, he
wears the proud proprietary air of
the husband, and tucked ir. some place
near horh 1* always carried a
'it n»"hroHn.
FIND MUCH USE FOR IVORY
Markets of the World Are Open for
It Today, and the Supply Seems
Undiminished.
If you ask any dealer what Ivory
is chiefly used for at the present
day, he will reply at once: " Piano
keya."
America imports ivory from the
east coast of Africa exclusively for
this purpose. Next in volume come
billiard balls, cutlery handles, brush
ware and toilet articles. It also en
ters into the manufacture of number
less little ornaments and articles of
general use, such as statuettes, cruci
fixes, paper cutters, workbox fittings,
toys and chessmen.
The most valuable of all Is the
"scrlvalloe," to which I have referred
—as being used in the making of bil
liard balls, and on an average three
balls of fiue quality are got out of a
small tusk. Ivory balls, however,
have now formidable rivals in ben
zoline and other composition m te
rials, and in regard to quite a num
ber of articles which used to be fash
ioned out of ivory, celluloid and bone
take its place.
There is little waste product from
ivory. A use is found for cuttings,
shavings and scraps left over after
main processes have been completed.
India takes large quantities of the
rings left after the turning of bil
liard balls, and uses them to make
women's bangles and small toys and
models, in which the cunning hand
of the native craftsman excels. The
dust is used in polishing and in the
preparation of ivory black and India
ink, and I am told it may also be
utilized as food in the form of ivory
jelly, a delicacy of which I have no
personal knowledge.
Elephants are carefully preserved
In many districts. If the ancient
quadruped is really destined to fol
low the mammoth and the cave bear,
and cease to walk the earth, he is in
no hurry to go. He would be a rash
man who would venture to predict
when the last tusker may be expect
ed to vanish from the scene and the
last parcel of animal ivory be deliver
ed at the London docks. —London
PosL
Working Through College.
An old and not a very easy question
is raised by the advice given to needy
students by a Cornell professor who
tells them not to try to work their
way through college, but to borrow
what money they need. Each case
has to be settled on its merits. If a
man has a $lO,OOO mind and a mar
ket for it in sight, it may be poor econ
omy to take time from his studies and
other college occupations to earn mon
ey by odd jobs, and the extra work
may even involve risk of a break
down. On the contrary, a rugged, in
dependent youth, with plenty of
strength and a faculty for finding work
may be positively benefited by the ex
tra labor of earning his way and by the
stimulating sense of being out Of)
debt. Yet there are many good men
who have not this faculty, and it is
rather surprising that no millionaire
in endowing colleges has yet planned
for shops where work at a fair price
could be offered to students. Steady
cumulative work Is educationally bet
ter than odd jobs, and after a first year
of training a student's labor should be
worth a fair wage. Whatever deficit
was incurred could be charged up to
vocational training.
Petrified Tree Causes Big Question.
Not far from the Sullivan ranch and
near the junction of Cut Bank creek
and Two Medicine creek, Montana,
there is a butte, probably 450 or 500
feet above the surrounding country
and about seven miles in circumfer
ence, with almost perpendicular sides.
The butte is absolutely devoid of
timbers, but at one time on the sum
mit there grew a fine straight pine
tree two feet in diameter and not
short of 80 to lot) i'eet high. This is
proved by the fact that the tree now
lies lull length on the ground, cut into
two-foot lengths, the ax marks of the
woodman being plainly discernible in
every cut of the wood, which is now
petrified.
To fell the tree up hill, as was done,
it hud to be chopped almost entirely
on the side toward which it was to
fall, and the p .arified stump shows
that this was done. Every one of the
cuts, which hint of commercial pur
poses for the wood, gives indisputable
evidence of the woodman's ax. The
great wonder is in what age was the
tree cut, what sort of people did the
work and with what sort of ax?
Small Mercies.
The young English tourist who had
been staying tor a week at a hotel
in the Scottish highlands, for the pur
pose of taking advantage of the fish
ing, was, at the end of that time,
rather inclined to think that the fish
ing had taken advantage of him. He
had caught nothing, and his expenses,
of course, had been none the less
heavy.
On the last day of his stay, how
ever, he landed a fine salmon.
"Well, Donald," he said to a canny
Scot at the hotel, as he proudly sur
veyed the fish; "it's a nice catch, and
so it ought to be. It has cost me £l5
at least."
"Aweel," replied Donald calmly, "it's
a gr-great blessin' ye didna catch ony
mair!" —Cassell's Saturday Journal.
_____—— ———
Cold Woman.
"What's the matter? A bridegroom
Shouldn't look so depressed."
"Disillusionized, that's what."
"How now?"
"I offered my wife two kisses to
build the kitchen Are, and she flatly
i refused."