YOLXXXII
L£ ' BL
THE BUTLER pAIR!
SEPTEMBER 3, 4, 5 & 6,1895.
rates on all the railroads during three days.
Premium Lists on application tc the Secretary.
W. P. ROESSING, Butler, Pa.
ass laf as
Both Trumps
And Trumps Lead—
\ f QijS/ Our Line of fine Shoes
I j J J ought to draw you to
I jj to the inspection of
K j \j\ their merits Prices
£\ ML have touched the bot-
LOOK! At Our Prices.
Men's Tan Shoes that sold at $5.50 go at
Men's Tan Shoes that sold at #4.00 go at f 2 - 2 5-
Men's Tan Shoes that sold at $3.25 go at #1.75.
Boy's Tan Shoes that sold at #2.00 go at $ 1 .00.
' Men's Calf Shoes that sold at # 1.50 go at #I.OO.
Men's Everv Day Shoes that sold at $1.25 go at 90c.
Boy's Every Day Shoes that sold at fi.oo go at 75c.
Ladies Shoes,
Grandest Bargains
Ever Offered.
Ladies' fine dongola patent tip shoes at 90c.
Ladies' flexible sole shoes lace and button at fi.so.
Indies' russett shoes hand turns at $2.00.
Ladies' russett shoes heel or spring at $ 1.00.
Women's heavy tip shoes f 1.00.
Women's heavy shoes button fi.oo.
Misses heavy shoes in lace or button at 75c.
Children's school shoes 50c to 75c.
Owing to the material advance the manufacturers have advanced 011 all their
goods—but as our large fall and winter stock wh'.ch is arriving daily was bought
before the ad /ance, I am now prepared to show the largest stock of reliable Boots
and Shoes ever brought to Butler, and at such ) emarkably low prices that you are
sure to buy. Our stock is large anil complete. Full stock of Men's and Boy s
heavy Boots; Full stock of rubber goods; Complete stock of Felt Boots and Shoes—
Also line of warm lined Shoes and Slippers—Men's, Women's and Misses' heavy
shoes in all material's and all at the old LOW PRICK.
When in Butler call and see me. Mail orders receive prompt attention.
JOHN BICKEL,
128S Main Street,
BUTLER, PA.
Branch Store 12 5 N. nain st,
What Do You Think of This
FOR JULY.
Top Buggies Low as S4O 00
Top Slat Wagon Low as SSO 00
Two Horse Earm Wagor. $55 00
Phaeton s(>o 00
Two Seat Spring Wagon S3B 00
Harness Oil Per Gal 60
Axle Greese 4 Boxes -S
Buggy Wheels, with steel tire SB.OO per set
Harness Leather has advanced 50 per cent, but we had
enough to last us a whole year, bought at the Old
Price, and are making Harness accordingly. Therefore,
anybody wanting harness, now is the time to buy to
save $5 to $lO per set. No difference what you want
about you team or wagon, come here. Also if you
need a Trunk or Valise, we keep a full line.
S, B. MARTINCOURT & CO.,
128 E. Jefferson St., Butler Pa.
%
lGauge Underwear at greatly J OX
Reduced Prices. *
NOTHER Cut in Millinery! Any flower
Zk in the house for 7cts. Another table of
* qc ribbon —you will find this just as good
as we sold last week.
A LL ofour LINEN and SILK *7* .
**GLOVES AT HALF-PRIC H ,t%.
M. F. & M. MARKS,
113 to 117 S. Main St.
THE BUTLER CIT IZEN.
The Foundation
of Good Health is
Pure, Rich Blooc"
j And the surest, best way to
purifv your blood is to take
Hood's Sarsaparilfa
Hood's Pills tire. AUdruKidstt.
HEINEMAN & SON,
I S
\ SUMMER |
r is approaching and tqa J
r only way to keep cool is J
J to go to
rt? Ileinemans \x
Q- t K fc"
and ffet yourself a c'ce d
i>s Mammocks
Pt We have the largest J t?'
03 J aDd finest line of J C
z> Hammocks
Ox ? c
ever brought to Butler 4
4 Wall Paper *,c
I >
J2J J from the cheapest, to the \ "
<jJ \ finest of Pressed J w.
2? PAPERS. f
w t F ?r
7(0 We also handle the p
_ i celebrated 4
RAMBLER \~
| BICYCLE, j
HEINEMAN & SON.
-GREAT SAMPLE SALF.
Summer Sl\oes,
AT
Half=Prices.
Just received 1,000 pairs t 1
Summer Sample Shoes and Slip
pers. These goods are to be soli
at once. I bought them at im
own price and you can have then
at yours. These samples were
not bought to make money on
but to keep things lively durin;
the dull season.
Prices Good for 10 Days Onr,
I.adies' Fine Tan Oxfords, }i and
$1.25 kind $ 65
Ladies' Fine Dongola Oxfords, 75c
kind £ 4'
Ladies' Fine Cloth Slippers go at... 21
Ladies' Fine Tan Shoes, heel, 12
kind #t 10
Ladies' Fine Tan Shoes, spring, $2
kind $1 10
Ladies' Fine Kid Button Shoes re
duced to t
Ladies' Fine Tan Shoes, $2 kind,... 1 25
Boys' and Youths' Fine Tan Shoes
$2 kind $1 10
Misses and Children's Tan Shoes
Space forbids me quoting fur
ther,but if you will call during thi>
Sample Sale you will see Summei
Shoes going cheaper than ever be
fore. Don't delay but come at
once and try
The New Shoe Store
puring This
SAMPLE SALE OF SUMMER
SHOES.
C. E. MILLER,
215 S. Main St., Butler, Pa
Seanor & Nace's
1
Livery, Feed and Sale Stable, i
Rear of Wick House, Buller, Pa
The best of horses and first clase
rigs always on hand and for hire.
Best accommodations in town for
permanent boarding and transient j
trade. Special care guaranteed.
Stable room for Bixty-five horses j
A good class of horseß, both driv
ers and draft horses always on band j
and for sale under a full guarantee; j
and horses bought upon proper noti [
I (ication by SEA NOR & NA'JE-
All kinds ot live stock bought and
sold.
Telephone at Wick House.
HOUSEHOLD ENAMEL,
SUPERSEDES PAINT AND VARNISH.
Can l»e applied to any smooth surface,on
furniture. wood, fjla.su. any kind of metal
including kitchen utensils.
Makes old articles look new and is much (
used on bicycles, carriages, stoves, etc.
Requires only one coat, is applied cold ,
with brush and dries absolutely hard ard j
(flossy in 2 hours —will not crack, chip !
blister or rnb off.
Cample bottles sent on receipt of price, j
; ounces 15c, 4 ounces 25c, 8 outc 40c
West Deer Park Printing In k Co.,
4 Xs*v RKAOK, ST.N'K.V YOS J
▲GENTS WANTED.
RTTTLER. PA., THURSDAY. Al OUST 15 IW,.
PIMPLEDINK'S REFORM.
Brought About by Purely Natural
Causes.
Miller drore his
jacltkuife into the
' ' bench and then
' "Well, what air you
S' kicking aboul
i miiß prowled the Chronic
Sb&F Loafer, who was
_seated on the steps
" 1 " 111 of the stone porch in
the little town in a backwoods section
of Pennsylvania, gazing vacantly down
the road.
"Jest thinkinY' replied the Miller,
closing' his knife and placing it in his
pocket. Then he leaned back agai-.ist
the window and repeated: "lluh:
Thinkin'!"
"Thet's on usual," grumbled the
Loafer.
The storekeeper was sitting on a
crate of eggs, which was awaiting tho
arrival of the stage for shipment. He
leaned toward the occupant of tho
bench and asked: "Now, what is amus
in' you?"
"I was jest thinkin' about how Bill
Pumpledink was reformed," replied tho
other, grinning. "Him as seen the
time he'd a-give his farm for a drink of
hard cider. Ain't you never heard
about it?"
"I know he used to do a power of
drinkin'," said the Loafer, "an thet
now he's alius goin' ter church an
bush meetin', but I never heard how et
come."
"Don't you ever tell I told you, fer 1
wouldn't hev it git out fer a farm, - ' be
gan the -Miller. "Pumpledink, he's a
friend of mine, an' it was him as told
me, with the assistance of his boy
Barnabas. Bill's mind is jest a leetle
hazy on the subject, but the pints ha s
mixed on Ilarnabas an' good common
sense reasonin' hes supplied. It hap
pened jest this time last year an' —"
"In the ides of June," ventured the
School-Teacher, who was on his way to
the parsonage, but had stopped at the
store for a little gossip.
"Yes, in June; the hides of June,'
continued the Miller. "Bill Pumple
dink has a place over in the gut. \ou
uns knows how to git there. Vou foll3*
the road thet crosses the mountains
through Smith's gap tell you come to
barker's sawmill; there you switch off
to the right, keeping along the gut
between the ridge and the mountain
fer half a'mile, and you come to his
place. A lonely spot, too; woods all
'round exceptin' a few fiel's as hes more
stones 'an soil on 'em.
"I know his place well," interposed
the Loafer. "I used to pass it on the
way fishin'. A lawg house an' a slab
barn in the middle of a few acres of
cleariu". Lonely? Sights!"
"Pumpledink used to belong to our
lodge of the Knights of the Maltese
Star, an' was reg'lar at the meetin's
up in West Eden. Sam Miller had a
license in them days, an' as soon as the
meetin' was over Bill Pumpledink
made right fer the hotel, an' how he
ever got home at all afterward I could
never see. They was three bridges fer
him ter git acrosst, but only once, as I
knows on, was he picked out of a
creek. That was next day after our
county convention, when his son
Barnabas foun' him sleepin' in the
wotter, jest on the edge of thet deep
sucker hole, where the road crosses
Windy creek.
"The first meetin' in June was the
last one Pumpledink ever 'tended. He j
went to the hotel thet night as usual, j
and at twelve o'clock ho began to pick j
his way home. I low he ever got over j
them three miles I don't know, nor be !
doesn't himself, ne reached the clear
in' all right and then set down on a j
stump at the side of the road. It was
a clear night. The}' was a half moon
overhead, shinin' down quiet-like
through the trees; a little breeze was
rattlin' the leaves. He felt kind of
lonely an' creepy like an' got up to
go, aimin' toward the house out in the
clearin'. He sais he must hev ben ,
walkin' about five minutes, but when ,
he set down to rest, there he was on j
the same stump, and he was plumb
disgusted. He set a minute, an' then
tried it again, but it wasn't no use, fer
he sais no matter how fer he walked !
it seemed like thet stump kept right
along side fer him to set on.
"That riled him like, an' he picked
up a stone an' tossed it acrosst the road
jest to ease off his feelin's. He didn't I
"WELL, WHAT Allt YOU KICKING ABOUT?"
know it then, but it seems that the
rock fell near a big hen that was lav
ing by tho fence with a family under
her wings. This here hen was nat'ral
surprised, still, an' looked up an' sais
loud like: "Clook!'
"Pumpledink started an' put hishand
to his ear, an' in his Dutch way sais:
'Woices.'
"He was kinder scared settiu' out
there in the woods alone, and unable
to move without a stump follyin'
him.
" 'Clook-clook-clook,' sais the hen a
leetle louder.
"'Look?' yells Bill, gittin' white.
'Look? Woices in the grass. Look?'
"Then from the typ of the poplar
tree behind him somethin' calls out:
'To-who —to-who —to -who"
" 'Clook-clook,clook,' sais the old
lion, gittin' excited.
" 'To-who-to-who,' came the reply
from the tree.
"Bill Pumpledink's hair jest stood on
end, an', tremblin' all over, he got up
an' ran toward the house, an' when he
got all out of wind he sank down ag'in
on a stump, an' there it was jest the
same old stump, though he sais he's
positive he must a-run clean acrosst
the clearin'. Then he panted, fer he
was all outer breath: "Look! To-who!
W oices"
"Everything was quiet, an' he could
hear nothin' but the breeze shakin' the
leaves overhead, and the wotter ripplin'
along the creek down in the woods.
He was all a-tremblin', an' would a-felt
better, he sais, ef only a wildcat 'ud
a-called, fer he didn't like them ghost
ly voices. He picked up a stone, and
cautious like, tossed it toward where
the old hen was.
" 'Clook-clook,' she sais.
" 'Gawd,' sais Pumpledink In his
j Dutch way.
" 'To-who-to-who! - calls the owl over
head.
"He near fell off the stump he was so
bad frightened, fer from over acrost
the clearin' came the answer plain:
"Poor-will-poor-wilL'
'"lt's me them woices is talkin'
about,' thinks he. All the stories of
ghosts au' he'd ever
lieara come Oack to him, au he seen
them wild onearthly things every
where about him.
'•Tremblin' all over he rose to his
feet and staggered toward the houv.
He sais he's sure he walked fer five
minutes before he set down exhausted,
but there he was on thet same old
stump. He stayed there pantin' a d
listenin', but he didn't hear nothin'
but the wind an' the wotter, an' he set n
a hundred shudders thet looked to him
like ghosts wavin' to and fro around
the clearin'. Down in the woods he no
ticed a big -white thing standin' quiet.
He stared at it hard, tremblin' all ov. r
and his teeth chatterin'. It seem 1
like it moved toward him, an' so he
grabbed a stone an' throwed it at it
" r:r
"I'LL NEVER TECXI ASOTUER DROP."
with all his force. The thing disap
peared an' there was quiet; then a
splash as the rock fell inter the black
pawned down be the creek. Thet old
bullfrawg I'umpledink hed all spring
ben tryin' to ketch with a piece of red
flannel on a fishhook, climbed out on a
lawg an' begin in the deep way them
frawgs talks through their noses:
'Bully-rum-bully-rum-bully-rum.'
"You could a killed Bill Pumplekink
with a feather he was thet badskeered.
He fell back on the stump gaspin', an'
in his Dutch-like way he yells: 'Woices
—woices ag'ln!"
" 'Bully rum, bully rum,' sais the
frawg, talking through his nose like a
temp'rance lect'rer.
" 'Bully-rum!' howls Pumpledink.
'Young roan, beware! I for one'il
never tech another drop.' An'he sank
all in a heap.
"They was silence ag'in. 'Whip
poor-will!' cries the bird acrosst the
clearin'.
"Bill straightened up and bellers:
'l'm here, but I ain't the same man.' "
" 'Look-clook!' squawks the old hen.
" 'To-who-to-who,' sais the owl.
" 'Poor-will!' cries the bird acrosst
the clearin'.
" 'Bully-rum,' croaked the frawg
through his nose.
"Bill tried to rise, but couldn't.
Then from over in the barnyard came:
'Baa-baa-baa."
" 'Pad. I knows it pad," he yells in
his Dutch way, never recergnizin' the
voice of his one-eyed ram. 'But I'll
nefer, nefer tecli another drop.'
"Then come the stroke that dono
Bill Pumpledink clean. It was more'n
he could stan'. The bird over acrosst.
the clearin' must a moved up a tree,
fer he could hear her plain as she
broke out real loud: 'Whip-poor-will!
" 'Who-who?' calls the old owl, piti
ful-like. Pumpledink raised his hanu
to his ear to ketch what was said.
Right from the limb over his head come
the answer: 'Kitty-did, kitty-did.'
"He looked up at the limb surprised,
but didn't see nothin' but the moon
sliinin' down.
"Then come agin: 'Who-who?'
" 'Kitty-did-Kitty-did, she did.'
"Pumpledink rolled off the stump
and lay in the grass groanin' in his
Dutch-like way: 'Nefer. I'm pretty
low, but my wife nefer hed to lick me.
Woiees! Woices!'
"'Bully-rum-bully-rum,' calls the
frawg through his nose, remeinberin'
the red tlannel and the fish hook.
"I'umpledink didn't know no more.
His boy Barnabas hed heard him
callin' an' got him home on a wheel
barrer. lie's never teched a drop
sence."
The Chronic Loafer rose to his feet
and gazed intently at the Miller, who
was trying to avoid his eyes by look
ing across the valley.
"I must be goin' home," said the
Loafer, "ter get in the wood, but I
must say thet either you er Bill I'um
pledink er Barnabas hes a power o'
imagination."—N. Y.Evening Sun.
—lf any man think it a small matter,
or a mean concernment, to bridle his
tongue, he is much mistaken; for it is
a point to be silent when occasion re
quires, and better than to speak, though
never so well.—Plutarch.
AN IKDIXGBM HUSBAND.
v : n : | J ' ti,.,
I
$ W&m
r i |M
Wife—Tom could you let me have—
Husband —No, I couldn't; I'm busted.
$
Wife —Oh, I simply wanted change
for this fifty-dollar bill which papa gave
me to-day.
Husband—Why, sure! here's forty
dollars; I'll owe you ten.—Judge.
Exchange of C'ompl!nn»nt«.
Passenger (alighting from cab)—
What's the charge?
Cabman —One shilling.
Passenger—Well, that's quite reason
able. I knew from your face you
wouldn't be extortionate.
Cabman Thankee. I knew from
your face that you'd be too mean to
pay more than the legal fare without a
lawsuit. —Tit Bits.
Unprecedented.
Upguardson—l had a singular experi
ence last Tuesday. You remember It
looked like rain and the weather proph
■ eta predicted rain?
Atom —Yes.
"Well, 1 brought my umbrella, rain
coat, aud rubber shoes down town that
morning."
"Yes."
"Well, It rained.—Chicago Tribune."
A KIDNAPING.
BY MARY L PENUEEED.
mUNT BARBARA sn .
I am an unnattirV
boy because I do- t
care for Sir Walt .•
Scott's books. As .!
any natural t> •
would like anythir :
she did! Ivanhoe aud the Talisn r i
aren't so bad, but there's a good deal t >
much tommyrot about love, and : 1
that sort of thing, in them; besid .
yards on yards of what the}' call see:; -
painting, or word-painting, which
perfectly sickening. Who wants t
told that the sky is blue or the gras
green? I always skip all that,
course: so does everybody—with :
sense.
But that wasn't what I was going
say. It was about a lark we hail o;
with old Marston. the chap wh J
school-house wo board in Blathi
and me —and a fine spree it was. or
it was spoilt at the finish by—but I
tell you all about it, so's you can
for yourself.
Marston's wasn't a bad place to 11
in at first. He had just gone and g
married, and he was that treacly sw*-
you couldn't get his hair up hard
He and Mrs. Marston used to look
each other fit to make a cat
they were so spooney; and, so Jong i
us fellows kept a bit up to the mr:
he never found fault But all that w;
before the "Squaller" came, a horr
little brat of a baby that did nothing 1
howl from morning till night It m i
have kept old Marston awake half ti.
night, for he got so beastly waxy the:
was no pleasing him. We all hate
that kid, and didn't we just pity Mr
Marston. with a crabby husband an<
constant screamer to mind! She wasn
half a bad sort, herself, and often tc
us fellows' parts when there were ru
tions; so she didn't deserve to be w.
ried as she was.
Well, I was going to tell you abe
our cave-Blathers' aud mine—a : I
that was what made me start about
Scott, because it was through reading
we went in for the cave. Blathers to )k
a paper called The Boy's Own Advi
turer, and there was a splendid tale i:»
it, much better than anything Sc< ;t
ever wrote, about a chap who lived
smuggling: and rare larks he had! V o
often talked of running away and ta -
iug up the smuggling trade, which
must be a glorious life for a fellow
with any go in him, but we never could
save up enough money to pay our rail
way fares to the sea. We were in the
midlands, you see, and when we got
our sere ..s there were always some
ticks to pay up at the school tuck
shop. But one day Blathers said:
"I say, Jonesie, I don't see why wi
shouldn't have a smuggler's cave her. 1
in a small way;" and, when I askc<.
whereabouts, he pointed to the wooi'.
pile that was In a corner of the pa l
dock leading out from Marston's ga
den. It was a great heap of faggot
and clumps stored for firewood, I sup
pose, ready for winter. It took its
some time to burrow it out and stow
the wood away, without anybody sei
ing us, and sneaking; but when it was
done it really make quite a decent sort
of cave, and we smuggled no end of
things into it.
It was a great satisfaction to have n
place where we could go and smok'"
when we liked, and we used to smug
gle tobacco and cigarettes whenever
we got half a chance. The cave ha I
quite a store of tobacco in it at last.
We never told a soul, though wa
wanted to take a rise out of some of
the other chaps over it; but it wouldn't
have done.
One day Blathers said:
"We ought to kidnap some one—i
if *36=
WE I"SET> TO SMUGGLE TOBACCO AND
CIGARETTES.
girl, if possible, and carry her off.
They always do."
"Not a girl, Blathers," I said.
He laughed in an awful ruffianly
manner, and puffed at his pipe.
"Why not?"
"Oh, they're silly, and take up so
much room. Besides, there isn't a girl
worth looking at about here—unless
Jane would do."
Jane was the "Squaller's" nurse. She
wasn't bad-looking, so far as I had no
ticed.
"Jane!" said Blathers, in disgust.
"I've not come down to servant girls,
thanks."
(I forgot to mention that Blathers is
older than me; he's nearly fifteen.)
There was, as the novels say, "a pro
longed pause." Then, suddenly, old
Blathers said:
"Tell you what—why not the 'Squal
er' itself?"
I was staggered.
"What, kidnap the 'Squaller?'" I
cried.
"Exactly. It wouldn't take up much
room, and tliere'd be no end of sport."
I agreed that it was a good idea, but
had my doubts about the future.
"Suppose anything happened to it.
Don't babies' heads roll off when they
ain't properly held together? They
always seem as if they're not on very
tight. I retntmbcr my sister had one,
and when I tried to hold it—"
"Shut up!" said Blathers, contemptu
ously; "I don't want to hear about your
sister's kid. There's no fear, Jonesie:
babies have uine lives, like cats; and if
it did croak, I should think they'd 14
thankful to get rid of it."
That settled the matter.
The "Squaller's" doom was sealed!
We laid our plans artfully. Two
days later, when Jane was wheeling
the "Squaller" up Gypsy Lane in the
perambulator (for a wonder it was
asleep—the baby, I mean, not the per
ambulator), she heard an awful yell!
She was walking along as if to-inor
row was a year off, and sort of chew
ing the cud, when she saw us fellowt
coming down the lano as if Old Nick
was after us.
"Mad dog! mad dog!" shrieked
Blathers, and I holloaed: "Run for
your life! Hun—run—run!"
Jane gave one awful yelp, and
bolted before you could say Jack
llobinson.
When we could see for laughing,
ISlathers snatched up the "Squaller,"
and we both tore off to the cave as fast
as we could pelt. Of course, the little
brute woke up and began to squall,
but we got it safe in, and nobody
saw us.
"You must go and smuggle a bottle
or something, or I shall never stop it,"
said Blathers, who was waving the
bundle of clothes up and down, till it
was a wonder the kid Inside wasn't
shaken to a jelly. Lord! how it did
yell.
I sneaked round to the house, and
collared a bottle full of milk that was
standing r ylf hady'L
ueen ior iiiai i Uou i ucuck- we ever
should have shut It up; but It gurgled
and gurgled Itself to sleep at last, and
weren't we thankful!
We made it up a sort of bed with
rugs and thing's, and then went back
to the house to hsar the fun.
Several of the fellows were talking
together. "What's up?" asked Blath-
IT WAS IS ITS MOTHER'S ASMS.
ers, carelessly. "Anything the mat
ter?"
"Rather," was the answer.
baby's lost"
"What, the 'Squaller?"'
"Yes. There was a mad dog career
ing round, so Jane ran away and left
the 'Squaller' to it, like a bold fe
male. "
"There's an awful rumpus Inside."
said Thompson, who we always called
"Mumps," because of his pudding face.
"Mrs M.'s nearly out of her mind, an I
the guvnor's gone for a detective."
"Why? Did the mad dog eat up the
'Squaller?'" asked Blathers, inno
cently,
"Nobody knows. It's disappeared,
anyhow," said "Mumps."
I daren't say a word for fear of
laughing,
"Is anybody looking for the poor lit
tle thing?" inquired Blathers, sol
emnly
I nearly burst!
"No end of people; all the place, I
should fancy," said another fellow.
"I think we'd better go and offer
our services, Jones, don't you?" re
marked Blathers to me, with the most
awful wink you ever saw. "I always
was fond of that baby, and who knows
but we might find it. Come along."
We went down the corridors to Mrs.
Marston's sitting-room and knocked at
the door. There was no answer, so we
walked in.
"Oh, if you please, Mrs. Marston,"
began Blathers and stopped.
She looked up and the sight of her
face was a caution. I declare I
shouldn't have known her! Her eyes
were all red and wild, with black
marks under them, and her face was
quite old-looking and awful.
She pressed her liads together, and
said:
"Oh, boys, boys, I've lost my baby,
my darling!"
Without a word Blathers and I got
out of that room as fast as ever we
could scuttle. We ran like hare# to
the cave. I got there first, and
snatched up that wretched baby. In
five minutes it was in its mother's
arms.
You should have seen her face.
I never heard anything like the way
she went on over that blessed infant.
All that fuss about a squalling baby!
However, it was a good lark at the
start, and I shouldn't so much have
minded the finish, only—what do you
think she did?
She said: "You dear boy!" put her
arms round iny neck, and actually nad
the cheek to kiss me —right before
Blathers, too. I did feel a foolt
Blathers roasts me about it to this
day. He says she daren't have kissed
him, but I know better. She'd have
idssed the most blackguardly looking
ruffian of a smuggler that ever pirated
on the high seas, If he'd brought her
back her precious "Squaller"!—ldler.
The Girl* Took It All.
Marie—l sever could understand how
it is people say the Franklin girls got
it 11 their beauty from their mother.
Fred—l dare say it's true. They cer
tainly haven't left her much.—lllus
trated Bits.
—The most harmonious and culti
vated Indian language is tfiid to be the
Araucanian. Such pains are taken to
preserve its purity that even a preacher
will be rebuked by his audience for
n h!« vorrntnn
THEN THE FIGHT BEGAN.
"Me man hasn't touched a drap fern
wake."
"Yla; Ol heard that Casey had stopped
his credit." —Judge.
Phonograph* In the Future.
Mother —What in the world shall wo
do? Our son cannot afford to marry,
yet he Is determined on It.
Father—l'll fix him. The very next
night he comes in late, I'll start that
Id phonograph to screeching out some
of your midnight talks to me. —N. Y.
Weekly.
Z»loiu Officer.
Officer MoWart—llere, now I It la
agin the law to ride thot wheel ahn
the sidewalk.
Beginner—But I'm not riditog; I'm
only trying to.
"Be jabers, thin, Oi will run ye in for
fivin' an akkyrobatic exhibition wld
out a license."— Cincinnati Tribune.
Got Daylight Through It.
Clubby—Did you know that Weggy
actually put a bullet through his head
ast night?
Willie—Weallyl I thought that he
vas particularly rational this nrorning
vhen I met him. —N. Y. World.
Srandaloui.
Ilojack—Did you hear how Skidmore
disgraced his family at church last
.Sunday?
Tomdik—No; how was it?
Ilojack—The minister read two chap
ters from the Acts, and he insisted on
;oiug out between them. —Judge.
Why They tame Late.
Husband fin hat and overcoat) —Good
gracious! Haven't you got your coat
on yet?
Wife—lt's all fixed, except tucking ia
my dress sleeves so they won't get
mussed. I'll be ready in half an hour.
- ?/. V. '.Vi»V'-
A I.aot Knort.
Elder Berry—Dr. Thirdly has prayed
f. »r rain until he is clear discouraged.
Mrs. Berry—What is he going to do
about it?
Klder Berry—Name an early date for
•.ne Sunday school picnic.—N. Y. World.
BEES FORM FRIENDSHIPS.
Kiyerlrur* of a Young Man to Wli. m
They Took a Liking.
"I al ways loved bees,'' said the you f
man tn gold-bowed glass*", behind the
dairy counter as he handed down a
honeycomb for the Inspection of a:j
idle customer. "When I was on th.j
farm." he continued. "I could go all
about the hives and not get stung, a 1
none of the others dared go near the
bees. We used to have an old farm r
come around and tend to the swarm%
but one day when 1 was a boy work
ing in the fields I heard a great hum
ming noise up in the air and saw t
swarm a-comin g. Well, I picked up i
tin pan that was there and hammer -1
on it till the bees settled on the end
a fence rail. Then I thought I eou I
tend to the swarm as well as the o 1
farmer, so I got an old hive, washed
out with honey and water, rubbed n
hands and arms with burdock jui •
and honey water and went at the
bees. I got them off that rail by th»
handful and they never stung me.
"After that I regalarly tended t.•
the bees. Whenever there was i
swarm I rolled up my sleeves, took c' v
my shoes and hat and went at them. I
have taken them from all sorts of
places, but I was stung only once.
They'd light on my head by the doze,
and crawl through my hair. Tha
used to send cold chills down my back
Sometimes my arms were so covere I
with bees that from wrist to elbow you
couldn't see the tlesh. The one thii.
when I was stung I had found a swar::
on a high limb and was sawing it of
and at the same time holding on tu
it so that it should not fall to the
ground with the bees. In doing this I
squeezed one of the bees and it fiev
straight at my temple and stung me
just above the eye. Since I left the
farm the folks have given up the bee
business. There's no doubt about it,
bees like some folks and hate others,
and I don't know any reason for th->
difference."—N. Y. Sun.
MYTHS ABOUT BEES.
A Mlnnmota Farmer DUpels a Number of
Popular Illusions.
Bees, said Farmer William Russell to
a reporter for the Minneapolis Trib
une, are just like human beings. Whe:
they are busy they are virtuous an'
peaceable; but when in Idleness they
become vicious, given to foolish actions
that dissipate the strength of the colo
nies and make the work of the bee
keeper twice as arduous. Last yeai
the season ran so that the bees wen
busy all the time. The blossoms cam
in rotation and the bees always hau
something to do. They made honey
very fast and the business was pros
perous.
This season there has been less hone\
to gather and the beet, with nothing t.
busy themselves upon, have devoteii
their time to frolic and idleness. The
old rhyme,
" How doth the busy bee
Improve each shining hour—"
is all nonsense. The bee* are marvels
of thrift and industry when they have
work to do, but they can be quite as
foolish as men.
The talk of the "idle drone" is an
other foolishness that has crept into
the language through ignorance. The
drone is the male bee. He has no buai
ness to gather honey; his function is
altogether different and quite as im
portant as that of the worker, lie is
the father of the hive, and when his
work lias been performed he is killed
off as useless.
A PRACTICAL COOP.
Can Be Made In a Few Minutes from a
Dry Goods Box.
The chicken coop illustrated here
with is both practical and easily made.
It is a dry goods box, which can bo
purchased anywhere for a few cents,
with a roof of light boards, the gable
ends of the roof being simply slatted
to give ventilation, which is very much
needed in a chicken coop in warm
weather. Two of the boards on one
side of the roof are arranged as a door
to give access to the interior. The
can be cleaned by scraping the
litter on the floor out through the lit
tle door in the corner. Such coop# are
easy to make, cheap, easy to keep clean,
and afford healthy quarters for the
chicks. —Webb Donnell, in Country
Gentleman.
AMONG THE POULTRY.
DON'T trust the hired man or boy to
look after the chickens. They will
neglect them. If you want the poultry
attended to properly do it yourself.
Do SOT let the chicks roost on small
roosts while they are young. If they
roost before their breasts become firm
and hardened, they will be sure to
have crooked breast bones.
EXPERIENCE is a great school in
poultry raising, and the mistakes are
guideposts to keep every one in line,
(let all the experience you can and
avoid making the same mistakes twice,
and then you will be on the road to a
profitable success.
AT this season of the year, when
there is an unlimited range, care will
l>e necessary to observe, by liberal
feeders, not to overfeed the fowls.
There will be little or no danger of
overfeeding the chicks, as it takes all
tliey can fret to furnish them bone,
muscle, feathers and flesh.
Tus success of many a man in the
poultry business, both commercially
and from a fancier's standpoint in
show records, is due to women, who
tret no credit They have been the
power behind the throne many a time
when men have received the honora.—
Prairie Farmer.
The De Jam.
Mrs. De Jarr—You forget, sir, that
you are married to a woman of educa
tion. lam mistress of many tongues.
>lr. De Jarr—But not of your own.—
N. Y. Weekly.
Female Aaienltlee.
"Are you going to the Browns'
<lance?"
"No; 1 haven't been asked."
"Oh—l suppose it's quite a young
people's dance, you knowl' Punch.
Interchangeable.
Tom—Do you want to do me a favor,
ais?
Tom s Sister—Maybe. What is It?
Tom—Lend me your bicycle costume
for to-day; mine's torn.—Chicago Rec
ord.
>'o Cause for Anxiety.
Hotel Proprietor —What did Mrs.
Jones say when she saw that woman
here whom she quarreled with so much
last summer?
Clerk—She tried hard to repress a
smile of satisfaction.— Brooklyn Life.
Ills Future Destination.
Jones— Bahl I hate your pipes and
cigarsl 1 never smoked in all my lifel
Smith—You'll begin when vou die,
though, won't you? —N. Y. World.
To Mr. Hen peek.
Oh. thankless man, prsy why complalnf
KM not your «aln been »reatf
Think, you hsve found a captain, whan
Tou merely sought a mate.
—Truia.
ISTo 31
THE ROCKING CHAIR.
■ aid to He Beneficial la CMN of Dj»-
pepel*.
"Critics of America," said a well
known physician, "have poked fun at
us for being a nation of rockers. Amer
icans have been pictured as sixty mil
lions of persons seated in sixty millions
of rocking chain—some of them cra
dles, of course. But now comes Dr.
Laine, a French West India physician,
who savs it is good,for us. Ne has
been talking of what he calls 'the
good effects that the lullaby chair exer
cises on subjects affected with atony of
the stomach.' Atony is want of tone.
"Laine says that a course of rocking
chair after each meal, the oscillations
being quiet and regular, 'stimulates
gastro-intestinal peristaltism,' and that
dyspeptics should take notice. The
chair ought to be light, so that rocking
requires no and sufficiently in
clined backward that the person may
lie rather than sit In it. Physicians
will agree that Dr. Laine has done
Americans a real service. It has always
been rather difficult to explain the na
tional passion for the rocking chair, but
now it is only too easy. Americans are
the worst sufferers from indigestion
and dyspepsia in the world, but it now
appears that we have Instinctively
rushed to what is now proved to be the
best system of relief.
"The man who lunohes on pie and
then balances himself in a ro.'lcing
chair is unconsciously doing his Wst to
stimulate his gastro-intestinal peristalt
ism; ho is practically singing a lullaby
to his outraged and injured stomach,
which is kept from crying aloud only
by this method of soothing it. Behold
in America a nation of invalids vainly,
endeavoring to rock themselves to
sleep. Dr. Laine's theory is too good
not to be true."
PHONOGRAPH DESORIBED IN 1860
The Frenchman Who Did It Was Consid
ered Crazy.
A few months ago while amusing my
self with Cyrano de Bergerao's Historic
Comlque des Etats et Empires de la
Lune et du Soltel (Paris, I waa
amazed, says a writer in Poptilar Solenoe
Monthly, to come across the matter
quoted below,which surely foreshadows
the phonograph as closely as do Bacon'a
words the steamship and railway. The.
author, De Bergerac, is on a voyage
over the moon. Left alone a little while
by his guide the latter give* him, to
help him while away the hoar, some
books to read. The books, however,
are different from any seen on earth.
They are, in fact, little boxes, which
Cyrano thus describes:
"On opening one of these boxes I'
found I know not what kind of metal'
(apparatus) similar to our clockwork,
composed of I know not how many lit
tle devices and imperceptible machin
ery. It was a book, certainly, but a
most marvelous one, which has neither
leaves nor characters; a book to under
stand which the eyes are useless—one
needs only to use his ears. When he
wishes to read this book he connects it
by a sort of little nerve to his ears.
Then he turns a needle to the chapter
he wishes to hear, and immediately
there emerges from the instrument, aa
from the mouth of man, or from a
musical instrument, all the words and
sounds which serve the Grands Lun
aires for language."
I will say, further, that Cyrano an
ticipated many of the inventions and
conceptions of modern aeronauts. No
wonder that h« was considered by his
contemporaries as "somewhat off."
WASHBURNE'S PREDICAMENT.
Had to Stand In HU Stocking Feet at a
French Court Dinner.
When Elihu Washburne was United
States minister to France there was a
court dinner given at the palace of the
Tuilleries one night by the emperor,
Napoleon 111., says the Cincinnati.
Times-Star. It was the custom at these
dinners when the empress arose to re
tire with the ladies for the gentlemen
to rise from their seats and step back,
so that the ladles should pass down the
line between them and the table. By
this all could avoid turning their backs
on the empress. Mr. Washburne had
very tender feet. During the dinner
they had given him a great deal of an
noyance, and to ease himself he bad
clipped off his patent leather pumps.
He was absorbed in conversation at the
close of the dinner and was caught un
iwares when the empress made the sig
nal for departure. Mr. Washburne was
obliged to 6tep back without his pumps.
There he stood in his stocking feet,
(rave, dignified and self-po6sessed in
the row of grinning diplomats to his
right and left. He betrayed none of.
the embarrassment he must have felt,
and was never heard to allude to the
incident.
Fled from a Rat.
A Larkin street restaurant in San
Francisco was nearly wrecked recently
by a most peculiar incident. As it was
the noon time, business was lost for at
least one day. The proprietor, who
had been out on the 6treet somewhere,
went to a closet, donned his black
alpaca coat and started to wait on a
couple of ladies. He drew a napkin
from the coat pocket to brush a crumb
from the table cloth, when out jumped
u rat nearly as big a 6 a ground hog.
The women were on the table in a sec
ond. Men upset chairs and tables try
ing to stamp on the animal, but it
escaped all the blows aimed at it and
hased around and around the place
looking for some avenue of escape for
fully five minutes. By the time the
restaurant cat woke up and caught the
rat the place was a sorry wreck and
half the patrons had disappeared.
Oave It the Preference.
At a recent large country wedding
all the carriages far and near were en
gaged to convey the guests to the sta
tion and the various country houses to
the bridal reception. "I am sorry,
ma'am," said the village undertaker, to
whom one of the perplexed hostesses
had applied in despair for a couple of
coaches, "but we had to put off two
funerals to-day on account of this wed
din'l"
A Short VUlt.
Mrs. Newwed—lf we wait until the
twelve o'clock train, we won't get to
mother's until eleven o'clock at night,
and she'll be asleep by that time.
Mr. Newwed Well, then we can
leave our cards and take the next train
hack. —S. Y. Weekly.
Evfolnf at the Summer R«#ort.
Ada—Matters are growing serious
between the new boarder and Miss
Brown.
Blanche—Yes; they are on the bal
cony now. It is a case of two souls
with but a single chair.—Puck
Soon to lie Shattered.
"I hear that you are engaged to a
girl with an ideal. You are likely to
find that sort of a girl pretty hard to
l-et along with."
"Oh, I guess I am all right. You
,ee. I am the ideal."—Cincinnati Trib
une.
A Oenerous Defect.
Theatrical Manager—That's a witty
line vou've got in the third act of this
farce of yours.
Playwright (contritely)— l assure you.
sir, it's purely accidental. I'll cut it
out at once.—Chicago Record.
An Important Questloa.
Clara (on a bicycle)— Ethel, dear, I
have a question I want to ask you.
Ethel— Yes, Clara.
Clara —Are my bloomers on straight!
—Judge.