SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN.
W. M. CHENEY, Publisher.
VOL. VIII.
Tn the race for tho possession of Africa,
remarks the Boston Cultivator, the Ger
mans seem to be decidedly ahead.
Taxes in Turkey are forty per cent,
higher than in any other country on the
face of the earth, and it is estimated that
tho average population lives fifty per
cent, poorer.
Charles Dudley Warner says that the
difference between tho "faith cure"
and tho "mind cure'' is that "tho
mind cure doesn't require any faith, and
the faith cure doesn't require any mind."
From careful estimates received from
farmers themselves in every county in
Kansas, the cost of raising a bushel of I
■wheat in an average crop in that State— |
fifteen bushels to the acre—is believed to J
be forty-nine cents.
Nineteenth century realism has attained !
it3 culminating point in the cathedral at
Manchester, England, where the late
General Gordon, of Khartoum fame, is
portrayed on the staiued-glass memorial
window in the chancel, airayed in a
shooting-jacket and knickerbockers.
Tho Philadeldliia Press says: "Ice has I
not risen in Baltimore and to the South. I
It has in Philadelphia and the North, j
Coal is really at the foundatidn of cheap j
ice. Before long it will be cheaper to I
use coal to make ice than to use it in j
carrying ice. Many people th ; :ik this is
true now."
Tho Chattanooga (Tenn.) Times in- j
quired into the nationality of the 358 j
members of the Chamber of Commerce of j
that prosperous and go-ahead city. The j
result of the investigation showed that j
175 of the 358 were born in the South- j
crn States, while 147 were born North I
and thirty-six in foreign countries.
Within a year the Atlantic Ocean has '
washed away a thousand acres of land on J
the New England coast, and 500 acres j
have been given to the New Jersey coast i
and as much to Virginia and North Caro- I
lina. "Next year," observes the Detroit j
Free Press, "the order of things may be
reversed. What is taken from one point I
is given to another."
But few persons who view a passenger
train as it goes thundering past know
that it represents a cash value of from
$75,000 to $120,000. The ordinary ex
press traiu represents from 083,000 to
J90,000. The engine and tender are
valued at $10,500; the baggage car
$1000; the postal car $2000; the smoking
car $5000; two ordinary passenger cars
SIO,OOO each; three palace cars $15,000
each—total $83,000. Many of the trains
which pull out from the depot in New
York city are worth $150,000.
According to the Boston Cultivator the
sealskin buffalo made by crossing polled
Aberdeen cattle on the wild stock, have
a fine, glossy fur, as beautiful as that of
the seal, and much thicker. The hump
on the buffalo almost entirely disappears
on this cross, and with it the shaggy
mane for which buffaloes have always
been noted. There are now twelve of
these sealed buffalo, and the cross promises
to become a successful and valuable
breed. They lose their wild traits and
become so easily domesticated as are our
common cattle under like circumstances.
The Hudson's Bay Fur Company is giv
ing up business because furs are no longer
to be had, and the sealskin buffalo,many
of which show fur marked like a tiger,
will doubtless become a valuable product
in northern climes, where the winters are
too cold for the common breeds of cattle
to succeed.
The Chicago Herald narrates that
an employe of the Louisville & Texas
Railroad at Hawesville, Ky., dreamed that
a switch was misplaced, and that a fast
train was due. He awoke so deeply im
pressed with the vision that he went out
to the switch at once to see if all were
safe. He found it misplaced, as he had
dreamed. A fast train was nearly due,
which, with the switch as he found it,
would have crashed into a train on the
kidetrack in which sixty men were asleep.
The incident is of interest to hypnotists
and dream student pel haps, but it
throws no new light on tho misplaccd
switch question. Passengers, as a rule,
would Atill prefer to trust to the man
that is wide awake rather than to the man
that dreams. The Hawesville man's
dream was opportune and truthful this
time, to be sure, but he is just as likely
some other time to dream that the switch
is >1) right when really it u all wrong.
TO-MORROW.
lad for joy in the sunshiny sky,
The larks were singing sweet and loud;
Silent the white clouds glistened on high,
And the sea gleamed far away like a cloud.
Jrown bees were humming amongst the
brown
And ruby wallflowers; straight and tall
rhe lily lifted its silver crown;
The tulips laughed by the mossy wall,
rrue lovers—a girl and a boy—we strayed
Down the alleys green, with Love for
third,
While dreamily mournful the fountain.
played,
Singing a song that we never heard—
'Be ye as hopeful and blithe as ye may;
To-morrow keeps never the bloom of to
day !"
! The lark.-; are silent, the sky is gray,
The sea is liid in a chilly shroud;
I The blossoms that opened yesterday
! Lie torn on the grass in a pallid crowd.
The ruby wallflowers droop In the rain;
The lily has soiled her silver crown;
The tulips hid by the wall in vain—
The pitiless wind beat their glory down.
How changed is tlie world in a few sltort
hours—
All life, how changed! Sow I walk alone
And hear, while the deathful tempest lours,
The fount'iiD sing as my heart makes
moan—
■'Be ye as hopeful and blithe as ye may;
To-morrow keeps never tlio bloom of to
day !''
—Shirley IFi/mie, in Once-a-Week.
JANE.
I
Her nnmc was Jane. Though his
| tory has thrown a halo around the name,
ind the lyric muse has embalmed it in
I that sweetost of songs, "My Pretty
j lane," we are apt to think of the girl
?alled Jane as a plain homebody, useful
| but not ornamental. Iler sisters, the
I Eleanors, Maudes aud Rosamonds, geu
i orally look to her to keep the house in
! jrdcr, and see to it that their comfort is
j not disturbed, and she is equal to the
! responsibility. She does her duty, and
more than her duty, if one can do that,
without complaint, indeed, cheer
j fully. But complaisant though she be,
i Jaue usually has a will of her own, and,
| when circumstances require her to do so,
makes it known.
[ Such a girl was Jane Lewis. She had
put the house in order—that is, she. had
•.lone all those little things which the best
J of servants will slight, aud which go so
far iu making up the sum of those homo
comforts dear to the Anglo-Saxon heart
—and was seated in her own tidy cham
ber, sewing. While she was thus en
gaged her two sisters came in. They
had been making a round of calls and
were very elegantly dressed—Jane, in
her plain calico, looking almost like a
servant by contrast.
"Are you making tlioso things for
your trousseau?" asked Edith, the eld
est, eyeing contemptuously several gar
ments lying on the tabic at her sister's
elbow.
"Yes," said Jane, with gentle.sweet
ness. "Are they not nice?"
"Oh, they are nicely made, I dare
say," said Edith—"you always sew nice
ly—but if I were going to be married, I
wouldn't put a stitch in for myself, and
I wouldn't have a garment that wasn't
trimmed with the finest lace."
"I too, Ethel," said Julia, who was
the youngest of the three sisters. "When
I am married I shall have my trousseau
from Paris."
"But where would be the use of my
having anything so fine?" said Jane, "as
I know I would have to come back to
plain clothes when the wedding things
are worn out. A costly wardrobe would
not suit the circumstances in which I
shall find myself when I am married, and
I don't like incongruities."
"Well, I suppose you are right," said
Edith; "but I will never marry a man
who cannot support me in thowstyle to
whieh I have been accustomed."
"Perhaps you will not haa-e the
choice," said Jane, looking lovingly up
into her beautiful sister's face.
"What do you mean?" asked thu other
shaiply. "You are not in the habit of
saying ill-natured things Jane,.and if
your determination to marry a,poor man
—and—and one far beneath you—in—in
spite of the objections of your family—"
"Don't say any more, dear,"said Jane,
I quietly. "I didn't intend to be ill-na
tured at all. I only meant that your
heart will have something to say when
the time comes, and you do not know
what that something will be. When
yours speaks, Edith, as it will in time, I
fancy it will astonish yourself more than
any one else."
"I heard somebody tell Edith she has j
no heart," said Julia, laughing.
"I should consider it an unpardonable
offense were any one to tell mo that," j
said Jane.
"Oh, it was only some nonseuse," said
Edith, ber face turning red.
Jane Lewis was going to be married to
a young man of whom her family disap
proved—that is, her mother and sister;'
and she had been given to understand
that her father was of their way of think
ing. Not that John Ward was un
worthy—he was truly worthy of any
woman's love and of any man's respect;
but he was—at least they considered
him so—their social inferior.
He was an architect and building con
tractor ; but his father had been a brick
mason, and he himself had served his ap
prenticeship to the trade, stepping up to
the higher rung of the ladder naturally
and with a confidence engendered by his
ervice at the bottom.
LAPOETE, PA., FRIDAY, JULY 25, 1890.
Indue course of time John and June
Were married. They went qnietly to the
church, one bright morning, accom
panied by the parents and sisters of the
bride and it few particular friends, and as
soon as the ceremony was over, drove to
the railroad station and took the train
that was to carry them to a pleasant lit
tle village where they proposed to spend
their honeymoon.
******
Five years had passed, and John Ward
and his wife, who had begun their
weddod life in a very small cottage, were
living in a house of considerable size and
remarkable for its beauty and the com
fortable arrangement of its interior. It
was a model residence, designed and
erected by the young architect himself,
who was already a man well-to-do in the
world. They had three children, aud
were as happy as people can reasonably
expect to be.
The only cause they had for any un
happinees was the unhappiness of another
—Julia. She had married a man sup
posed to bo very wealthy, had sent to
Paris for her trousseau, and there had
been a grand wedding. But her hus
band had turned out to be a scamp, and
after getting all he could out of his
father-in-law, beside forging his name to
a note for a large amount of money, bad
disappeared.
Edith had fulfilled Jane's prophecy and
married a poor man for love—u man of
good family, but feeble character, whom
her father had given a place in his mer
cantile establishment, though he was ill
fitted for it.
While Jane had lived in a modest cot
tage, neither her sister nor mother had
thought it incumbent on them to keep up
those intimate relations with her and her
family which the natural ties of close
kinship would have seemed to demand.
But she, having regard to her filial duty,
had not let that influence her own con
duct, visiting her old home as frequently
as circumstances permitted, though sho
could not help feeling that she was not
as welcome as she should have been, ller
marriage—low marriage her sisters chose
to consider it—had not only shut her out
of the charmed circlo of fashion, but
seemed to have affected her standing in
the family circle as well.
Her mother had treated her with a sort
of condescending affection, but her
father's manner to her had never changed.
The quiet, undemonstrative old man had
seemed to look upon her frequent ap
pearance aciong them as a matter of
course, often returning her calls, taking
tea with her and her husband, and stay
ing sometimes until quite late tnlkiug
with them, so that Jane was wont to won
der if he ever really did disapprove of her
marriage with John Ward.
The coolness—if it may be so called—
on the part of the female members of her
family hart, in a measure, disappeared
as Ward's worldly circumstancesdiad im
proved, though neither Jane's mother
nor sisters could ontirely get over the
fact that his father had been a brick ma
son. When the two girls were married
they affected to look upon him as the
inferior of their own husbands, though
one was a worthless scamp and the other
a poor,characterless fellow,who had spent
the greater portion of his life thus far
in lounging about and looking hand
some for the delectation of just such
silly women as they were.
One evening John and his wife were
sitting alone,he looking over some draw
ings and she sewing, while they talked
together. It was late; the little ones had
long been in bed, and they were some
what surprised to hear the tinkle of the
door bell. John answered the summons
himself, and returned to the sitting room
accompanied by Mr. Lewis.
"It is rather late," said the old gentle
man, kissing his daughter—an unusual
demonstration of affection on his part—
"but I was passing and thought I would
drop in for a few minutes."
"We are always glad to have you
come, papa," said Jane; "and I only
wish we lived near enough to see you
every day."
Mr. Lewis was silent for a few min
utes, and then he asked rather abruptly:
"Isn't that cottage over on the corner of
the street for rent?" indicating the direc
tion of the corner in question with his
thumb.
"Yes, Mr. Lewis," said Ward, looking
curiously at his guest; "it has been for
rent several months. Nobody seems to
care to occupy it, it is in such a dilapi
dated condition."
"But it could be repaired and made
habitable."
"Of courss—at considerable expense."
"What interest can an old house like
that have for you, papa?" asked Jane.
"I was just, thinking it might be made
a very pleasant home for people of mod
erate means," replied Mr. Lewis. "It's
a pity it has been allowed togo to rack.
This place belongs to you, John, doesn't
it?"
"Yes," replied Ward. "I bought the
lot with the first money that I earned
over and above my expenses. But I
thought you knew it belonged to me—
us, I should say; for what is mine is
Jane's, and what is her's is mine. There
is no division of interests with us—is
there, Jane?"
"No, indeed," said Jane, laughing,
"if there were I should be a pauper."
The next moment she regretted the
last words, for she saw n look of pain lit
across her father's face. Jane had re
ceived nothiug from him, and as he was
believed to be a veiy wealthy man, what
had inadvertently escaped her lips sound
ed like a reproach.
"What I meant," said the old man,
hesitating a little in hie speech now,
"was that there is no incumbrance—no
mortgage t"
"None whatever," said John, a little
proudly. "The property is ours, in fee
simple, every plank, every nail in it."
"That's well, that's well," said Mr.
Lewis. "Every married man should have
a home of his own, if he possibly can
no matter how modest it may be."
"Your father seems a little odd to
night," said John, when the old man was
gone.
"Do you think there can be anything
wrong with liimf" asked Jane, anxiously.
"Well, it did appear to me that there
was a troubled look in his face."
"Oh, but John," said the wife, "you
know that ho always has a serious ex
pression."
"It is something more than serious to
night," said John. "But I have been
very foolish to tell you this, my dear; it
will only worry you, and, perhaps, after
all, it is merely a fancy of mine."
But Jane had noticed the troubled look
on her father's face, though she had tried
to persuade herself that it was only his
usual gravity—a little more pronounced,
perhaps, yet nothing to cause anxiety, at
all events.
About u week after this visit, the min
ister who officiated in the church which
the family attended called upon the
Wards. This was nothing unusual, but
the hour that he chose on this occasion
was most unusual. It was very early in
the morning, when the household was
just beginning to stir.
Mr. Baxter asked to see Mr. Ward,and
after a short conference with him John
went up to his wife's room. When he
appeared again he was holding Jane's
hand, keeping it in his as he led her
down the stairs. His manner toward her
was even more gentle than usual, and the
way in whicli he led her, as though she
were a little child, seemed strange. She
looked up in his face inquiringly, and
saw there a grave expression that tilled
her with a vague sense of uneasiness.
"What is it, John?" she asked, as
they were about to enter the sitting
loom.
"Mr. Baxter will tell you, my dear,"
replied John, pressing her hand.
Jane was sure now that something
dreadful had happened, and she was so
dazed when she entered the room that_
her husband had to put his arm around
her and lead her to the sofa, on which
he gently placed her, taking his seat bu
side her.
"Mrs. Ward—Jane," sa : d the minis
ter, "you were always a sensible girl—
one to bo relied on, and we rely cn you
now—your husband and I."
"Yes, Jane," said John, pressing her
hand.
•'O, John!" said Jane, resting her
cheek against his shoulder and looking
up in his face with tearful eyes, "tell me
what it is, tell me—don't keep me in this
suspense."
John looked at the preacher, who
nodded his head.
"I)o you remember, dear," he said,
"the last time your father was here 1
told you he hail a troubled look?"
"Yes, I remember," replied Jane
tremulously. "Something has happened
to him. "lie has met with some misfor
tune—he is ill. What is it?"
She had lifted her head from her hus
band's shoulder and drew a little back,
still looking in his face. What she saw
there told of worse than illness.
"Oh!" she cried, letting her head drop
upon his breast, "I know! I know! Papa
is dead."
Mr. Baxter quietly left the room, and
John Ward sat silently holding his weep
ing wife in his arms.
After awhile he said a few smoothing
words to her, and then suggested that
they should goto her mother.
"Yes," she said gently, "that is where
I ought to be. Wo will go at once."
Mrs. Lewis was overwhelmed with
grief. Frivolous though she had been,
and fond of foolish display, she had 1 Dved
her husband—how dearly she had never
known uniil he had passed out of her
life.
Edith and Julia had been all the morn
ing in their own rooms, crying and sob
bing intermittently, and looking over
the fashion plates for the styles in which
they should have their mourning made,
leaving their mother alone with her grief;
and when Jane came she clung to her as
to a stay of comfort.
Much of Jane's time was now devoted
to her mother, who could not bear to
have her away from her for any great
length of time.
"Ah, Jane, my dear," she said one
day, "little do we think when we are
wasting time on the follies of the world,
how very short life is, and how soon we
may have to part with those we love.
Never, my child, let anything win you
away from the side of your husband; for
if you do, the time will come when you
will thing with regret of the many,
many Ifturs lost to you and him, for the
sake of things that give no real happi
ness."
"You need have no fear of that,
mamma," said Jane; "there is nothing
the world can offer that would induce
me to spend an hour away from John
that could be spent with him."
When Mr. Lewis's affairs were wound
up, it was found that there was little of
his once considerable wealth left for the
widow and children. The house in
which they lived wa3 heavily mortgaged
and had to be sold; but the old man had
purchased the cottage he had inquired
about, the nignt of his lost visit to Jane,
probably with the expectation of soon
having to give up the more expensive es
tablishment, and this, under the super-
Terms— sl-25 in Advance; $1.50 after Three Months.
vision of John Ward, and at bis expense
was putin habitable condition.
There Mrs. Lewis —who had not beet
ignorant of her husband's Rmburrass
ments, but had paid little heed to hit
words when he confided in her—took u|
her abode, with Edith and Julia and
Edith's husband; their interests and wcl
fare looked after by the once despised
brickmason's son.— New Orleans Times
Democrat.
SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL.
The climate of China is snid to b<
growing not only colder but drier.
In the Atlantic Ooean there are about
eighty-three pounds of salt to every tor
of water.
A revolution in coal mining is ex
pected from the use of a machine oper
ated by electricity.
There is a great demand for metal
furniture of all kinds in Australia on ac
count of the ravages of the white ant.
Galvanized wire netting isbeing large
ly sold for lawn, garden and shrubbery
purposes, for which it is admirably
adapted.
The coldest spot on earth is Verko
yansk, in Siberia, where the mean win
ter temperature is 48.6 degrees below
zero, Centigrade.
As a rule it seems that lepers do not
suffer severo pain, and tho average length
of life at Molokai, Hawaian Islands, is
about four years.
Cable messages are received by an in
strument known as the syphon recorder,
which squirts a small jet of ink on a paper
ribbon as the current is made or broken.
There are said to bo at least a hun
dred thousand acres of phosphate rock
scattered through the western part, of
Florida. The deposits average ten feet
in depth, and are rich in phosphate of
lime.
Experts claim that if steel ships aro
kept properly painted with good paint,
and the plates properly "pickled," they
would lost, as long as iron, otherwise
they would deteriorate more rapidly than
iron ships.
Electric traction is said to be fairly
booming in London. In a few weeks a
line of omuibusses run by electricity is to
be started. They will bo driven by
storage batteries, and will have a seating
capacity for twenty-six passengers.
The thistle at the autipodes seems to
attain a most vigorous growth. Its root
penetrates to a depth of from twelve to
twenty feet; and this root, even when
cut into small pieces, retains vitality,
each piece producing a new plant.
A weak galvanic current, which will
sometimes cure a toothache, may be gen
erated b s placing a silver coin on one
side of the gum and a piece of zinc on
the other. Rinsing the mouth with
acidulated water will increase the effect.
The greatest electric railroad which
has been planned is the one proposed in
Russia, between St. Petersburg and
Archangel, a distance of 500 miles. The
plan is to erect stations along the route
for the generation of electricity. The
estimated cost is only about #15,000 u
mile.
Tho projected railroad to the summit
of Jungfrau, in Switzerland, contem
plates the boldest mountain engineering
yet ventured upon. The line, which is
to consist of a continuous series of tun
nels, is intended to rise in a distance of
a little over four miles from an altitude
of 2800 feet above the sea to the lofty
hcighth of 13,600 feet, with grades of
from thirty-threo per cent, to ninety
eight per cent. —or practically perpen
dicular.
A neat application of electricity to do
mestic uses ie a miniature pumping plant.
With the use of no more current than
suffices for a couple of incandescent
lamps, it will pump one hundred gallons
an hour or eo, and keep the house tank
full without a particle of attention. These
little electrical devices to lighten labor
in the household are particularly com
mendable,and as the electrical light and
power becomes more widely available,
will doubtless increase in number and
utility.
Origin of tho Term "Masher."
The word masher is sometimes said to
be a corruption of the French ma cherie.
But this is one of the many itntances of
an ingenious etymology whose surface
plausibility imposes on the unscholarly.
Far more likely is the derivation from
the Gypsy word mashava, to fascinate by
the eye. Charles G. Leland, in"The
Gypsies," credits this etymology. "And
thus it was,"he says (page 108), "that
these black-eyed beauties, by mashing
men for many generations, with shafts
shot sideways and most wantonly, at last
scaled their souls into the corner of their
eyes, as you have heard before." And
in afoot-note, he explains: "Mashing, a
word of Gypsy origin (mashava), mean
ing fascination by the.eye, or taking in."
Chicago Post.
China Clay.
The porcelain clays of China differ
from those of Europe in containing a
large percentage of white mica, or, as it is
called, "muscovite." According to a re
cent analysis of M. Georges Vogt, the
"yeouko" clay, a fusible sort, used for
glaze, consists of 52.9 parts of quartz,
31.3 parts of muscovite, 13.4 of soda
felspar, 2 of carbonate ot lime and 1 of
hydrated silica. Petun-tse clay contains
no less than 40.6 percent, of muscovite,
which indeed is a common ingredient of in
in the Flowery Land. Its pres
ence in porcelain clays evidently helps to
account for their tronslucency.— Cassell't
NO. 41.
LONO AGO.
1 once knew all the birds that came
And nested in our orchard trees,
For every fi<jwer t had a name—
My friendsMvcre woodchucks, toads and
bees:
I knew where thriveHin yonder glen
What plants would t'.nrthe a stone-bruised
toe—
Ob, I was very learned then.
But that was very long ago.
I knew the spot upon the hill
Where checkerberries could be found,
1 knew the rushes near the mill
Where pickerel lay that weighed a pound!
I knew the wood—the very tree
Where lived the poaching, saucy crow,
And all the woods aud crows knew me—
But that was very long ago.
And pining for the joys of youth,
I tread the old familiar spcrt-
Only to learn this solemn truth;
I have forgotten, am forgot.
Yet here's this youngster at my knee
Knows all the things I used to know;
To think I once was wiso as he—
But that was very long ago.
1 know it's folly to complain
Of whatsoe'er the fates decre?,
Yet, were not wishes all in vain,
I tell you what my wish should be:
Fd wish to be a boy again,
Back with the friends I used to know,
For I was, oh, so happy then —
But that was very long ago.
—Eugene Field, in Youth's Companion.
IIUMOIt OF THE DAY.
A health resort —Quinine.
A summer complaint—lt's too hot.
An angler fishes with baited breath.
The saddest words of tongue or pen.
Are these sad words: "Say, lend me ton."
Receipt for dropping eggs—Let goof
them.
A supreme court decision—Getting
married.— Washington Star.
Little Bertie—''Does the sun tan you?"
Little Reginald—"No, the father."
"I always had an idea you were his
friend." "I used to be—but I loaned
him SSO once."
"Who wrote the 'Story of a Hansom
Cab?'" "I don't know. Some hack
writer, I imagine."
It is probably because love makes the
world go 'round that it makes so many
people giddy.— Purl-.
It is said there are more ways than one
to kill a cat, but She majority of them
are failures.— Pica;/u-,c.
Corn is an emblem of peace, but it is
never appreciated until it gets on its car.
—Binghamton Republican.
The mercury p-iosclimbfftg up,
The sunshine slippeth down.
And every soul with cash in hand.
Prepares t J jump tho town.
Washington Star.
Most creatures are entirely harmless
when they arc asleep. But the moth
does the most mischief when it is taking
a nap.— Puck.
In a school-examination on mineral
ogy : "Where are diamonds found in
the greatest abundance?" "At tho pawn
broker's. " — Judge.
Wc don't suppose there ever was a man
who did not cuvy the freedom with which
a barefooted boy gets around on a rainy
day.— Atchison Globe.
"There's piles of mouey in our lamp
chimneys." "Why, they break as soon
as you light the lamp." "That's where
the profit comes in."— Bazar.
"I see that a noted thief out west
swallowed a valuable shirt stud to escape
detection." "Sort of diamond in the
rough, eh?"— American Grocer
He donlt in horses and cattte and feed.
And he'd heard I wanted a "muley."
So he wrote: "If a first-class mule you need,
Please don't forget yours truly.'
-Light.
"He is a very original boy, that son of
yours. I think he is bound to rise in the
world." "I don't know. It's a hard
thing to get him to rise in tho morning."
—Bazar.,
A railroad across the desert of Sahara
is projected. As it does not strike an
oasis throughout the whole distance it
will not be easy to water the stock.—
Boston Globe.
Wife—"What makes you so pale?"
Husband—"l just dodged Hardup. If
he had seen me he would have hit me
hard." "Hit you? What for?" "Ten
dollars."— Chicago Inter-Ocean.
To "kiss but not tell," though in theory good,
Is In practice a failure, my brothers;
A kiss is like gossip—it's bound to be passed
From one person's lips to another's.
—Kate Field's Washington.
Mamma — 1 'I am tired of your chatter,
Johnny; you had better goto bed."
Johnny—"Are you very tired, mamma?"
Mamma—"Yes, very tired!" Johnny—
"Then, why don't you goto bed ?"
Boston Herald.
Because a man who hawks eggs
through the street hawks hawks' eggs
too, it docs not necessarily follow that a
man who hawks hawks, hawks eggs too,
nor that a man who hawks hawks,hawks
hawks' eggs too.— Klmire Gazette.
Fish Carried in a Tornado.
At Swayzee the other day the residents
were catching fish out of the pools and
puddles made by a night's terrific rain.
Later, when the water sunk into the
ground, sunfish and shiuers by the
sauds strewed the ground. There is n<k
stream within four miles of Swayzee, and
the theory is that these fish were caught
up by a small tornado and deposited
where they were found.— lndianapolis
(Ind.) Journal.