SULLIVAN REPUBLICAN.
W M. CHENEY, Publisher.
VOL. IX.
Rich Philadelphia na allow a discount
of five per v:cnt. to tenants who pay their
rents og> the day they fall due.
The ISBO record for British lifeboats
shows a saving of 55(5 lives besides res-
Ming twenty-seven vessels from destruc
tion.
Boston has decided, announces the
Chicago Herald, to divorce club3 from
her police force—that is, she will oblige
her parolmen to keep their batons "out
of sight" in the pockets of their new uni
forms, .that they may be used only iu case
of aa"emergency.
' Wilder, the humorist, says that in ap
preciating good jokes a crowd of news
boys is the quickest and most intelligent
he ever met. No point, gesture or shade
of iuflcction escapes these alert little uo
inads, while on the other hand many
fashionable assemblage!) are chilly nnd
unresponsive until you break the crust of
reserve or indillerenco as if with a
sledg<v hammer.
It is pleasing, confesses the New York
Sun , to obtain official information that
there is no danger of the immediate ex
tinction of ths American bullalo, as this
Huperb beast has found a quiet and
happy home iu tho Yellowstone National
Park. It is to be feared, however, that
the habits and even the natural qualities
of tile buffalo are undergoing a serious
chauge in the Park, and that he is bo
coming a tamo aud well-disposed quad
ruped. It is truly sad to think that tho
vast herds which roamed proudly over
the plains, eveu as late as the middle of
flic present century, have disappeared.
According to the Grand Junction
(Col.) News there is red tape eveu iu the
West. A Navajo pupil at Teller Insti
tute was found to have one of his feet
endowed with a surplus toe, aud the Su
perintendet ordered a pair of shoes for
him from a local shop, at a cost of $5.
Secretary Noble disputed the bill. Then
the Superintendent wrote to tho Secre
tary: "Indiiui boy new with six toes;
can't possibly wear Government shoe.
What shall I do?" The Secretary an
swered: "Oil with his toe." Next
the Superintendent asked: "Which
toe?" And the Secretary wrote: "Sixth
toe, of course." If the Secretary thought
that that ended it he was wrong. Again
the Superintendent addressed him, say- j
iug: "Toe oil. What shall Ido with
it?" To which the Secretary made linal j
answer: "Ship to Topeka for interment i
in Government graveyard."
It will be interesting to remember a
prophecy which Sir John Mcdonald once j
made to a reporter of the New York Sun
with regard to the future of Canada.
110 said that in time the provinces of
Ontario aud Quebec will form a greater
France. He thought France was do- |
cliuing, while in the old provinces of |
Canada the French were multiplying like j
nothing the world has seeu before. Not j
ouly do they have large families, but ;
they possess all the thrift of the French ■
aud are steadily buying up the laud. !
Like that of our New England the soil I
is comparatively poor and difficult of j
cultivation, and the English, Irish aud |
Scotch are leaving it for the prairie, the j
plains aud the Pacific coast, "aud," said j
he, "whenever such a farmer expresses a
desire togo West his next door ueighbo /t
a Frenchman, stands ready to buy him !
out. Soon there will be few except
Frenchmen left in old Canada."
California is last gaining a pioaiinent
position as a dairy State, declares the
American. Dairyman, some of the finest
i rencli cheeses being made there. Iu
1880 Mr. L. Cantol started a factory at
Pctaluma for tho purpose of manufac
turing the celebrated French cream
cheese, aud, although at first he found it
hard to introduce his product iu San
Francisco aud other cites on the Pacific
slope, he has by his perseverance built
up a tlrst-class trade for tho special
brands of fine cheese manufactured by
him, which are French cream, Carnon
bert, Uric, Neufchatel, Geroine and
Roquefort cheese, all of which are popu
lar, not only with the epicures iu all the
priucipal cities in California, but also iu
Oregon, aud he is now exporting large
quantities to the Tahiti and Sandwich
Islands. If manufacturers of those fancy
cheese on this side of the Rocky Moun
tains do not bestir themselves, it will be
but a short time until Mr. Cintel, or
some other enterprising manufacturer of
California, controls the Eastern tradtt
for this lino of dairy products, which ar«
growing in favor among the better class
9'. Consumers all over tlas continent.
iwd VOICES.
A HOMILY.
The humblest nnd frailest grassy blade
That over tho jwissing breezes swayed
Is of Beauty's palace a green arcade.
Akin to the uttermost stars that burn,
A story the wisest may never learn.
Is tho tiny pebble thy footsteps spurn.
In each human heart- potential dwell,
Hid from the world and itself us well,
Heights of heaven, abysms of hell.
The core of the earth is flery young I
No matter what may be said or sung
With a weary brain and a wailing tongue.
Soul self pent in a narrow plot,
Longing each morn for some fair lot,
Some bounteous grace which thou hust not.
Dull thou must be not to understand.
And blind thou art not to see at hand
Thy dreams by reality far outspanned;
For wonder lies at thy very door.
And magic thy fireside sits ttefore,
And marvels through every window pour.
Woven tho wings of the swift hours bo
splendor and terror and mystery;
One tiling is needful—tho eyes to see!
—Cornhill Magazine.
AUNT MEREDITH.
"That was the saddest mistake I ever
maile."
From my lounge in the corner of Aunt
Meredith's rooml watch her with half
closed eyes as she draws her low chair
before the lire, and takes her knitting
from the work-basket at her side. She
is always busy, it seoms to me, and when
I think of it, we six are enough to make
work constant with her.
First, there is Uncle Clay, Aunt Mere
dith's brother, full of hobbies that re
quire her constant attention.
"If lean only prove its worthlessness
before he mounts it, I can save him a
good deal of trouble," she says, when a
new hobby is presented; and often she
succeeds.
And there is Robert, just starting out
for himself under Aunt Meredith's
special guidance. There is Frauk,
another nephew, generous and impulsive,
—a regular tinder-box in temper,—with
May, his sister, always ready, in her
love for teasing, to put the match to the
tinder-box.
And there Is Richard—happy, rollick
ing llichar !, of whom Aunt Meredith is
never quite sure until she has herself
tucked him iu bod and sung him to
sleep.
Then here am 1; a cripple, dependent
upon Aunt Meredith for every ray of sun
shine that has crept into my poor
maimed existence since the day I opened
my eyes to the life which, but for her,
might indeed have proved a curse to me.
So there are six of us, all under her
care.
She thinks I am asleep, or else she
would not have spoken of that fatal
mistake which affected the current of so
many lives.
The firelight plays upon her needles as
she patiently plies them. The blaze
rises higher, and forms, as she sits out
lined against it, a sort of halo about her
gray head.
She is thinking of the past, I know,
and that "mistake," while she sits there
waiting.
Robert is doing some extra book-keep
ing, and will not be in until ten o'clock.
May and Fratik are busy with their les
sons iu the sitting room. Uncle Clay
iode over to Richland to-day, and did
not return until late. Richard is asleep,
for I heard Aunt Meredith singing "Rock
of Ages" in the boys' room more thau
half an hour before she went down to
give Uncle Clay' his supper.
While she sits waiting for the last one
of the household to come in, I am lying
here thinking over that mistake" she
made.
Indeed, I ofte; think of it. We crip
ples have so little else to do except to
study books and people, and all these
tedious years I have studied her until I
think I know her great soul by heart.
And I know all about that "sad mis
take," although she does not dream that
it is known to me. If I were to tell her
that I learned from her own lips to call
it u "mistake," I am sure that she would
think the atlliction that has dwarfed and '
tortured my body for almost forty years !
lias attacked my mind as well, for she
does not really look upon it as a blunder, j
If she ever allows herself to think of !
it as such, it is only when she is troubled i
and tired, and her thoughts go crowding !
back, to fasten themselves upon the 1
brightest spot in the past.
Such moments come to the bravest
and best of us. Hut I heard Aunt Mere
dith tell Uncle Clay only last night that
"there can be no bluuders iu God's
planand if she can stand up so
grandly amid the ruins of youth's prom
ises ana testify to the perfection of the
eternal plan, few indeed havo the right
to sit in judgment on it.
I feel the warm tears trickling down
my cheeks as I watch the figure in the
firelight. I can remember the day when
this white-haired woman, knitting stock- i
ings iu the chimney corner, was the mer
riest girl in our village.
"And the handsomest one," people ,
said. "And the best one," John East
man declared, when he asked her to be j
his wife. "And the happiest oue," I ,
heard her tell herself when John was !
gone, and with him her pledge.
I was a child then, but I remember it.i
lam a child now, for that matter; a \
child in body, a man in years; but 1 re- I
member it all as plaiuly as if it had i
LAPORTE, PA., FBIDAY, AUGUST 7, 1891.
been yesterday. I think wo crippled
ones have keener memories than those
who share the mind's work with the
body.
Aunt Meredith was an orphan, aud
had been reared and cared for l>§ my
mother, her only sister, and Uncle
George, her oldest brother.
The brother and sister tenderly dis
charged their duty toward her, and Aunt
Meredith, always conscientious, felt that
an immense debt was accumulating
against her; so that, when my dying
mother placed my hand in hers, and with
her last breath said, "As I have dealt
with you, Merry," tbore was but ono
thing for Auut Meredith to do. She ac
cepted the charge of tho little cripple
committed to her care.
She was young thou—just twenty—
and was soon to have been John East
man's wife. When she had accepted the
new charge she sent for hor lover to tell
him that the the marriage must be
postponed.
He protested, but Aunt Merry was
firm. "Just one year, John," she in
sisted. "Then we shall be better pro
pared to accept the now—charge."
She would not say "burden," but it
was a burden to lay upon her young
shoulders—a cruel sacrifice to ask of one
who, having never knowd a home of her
own, was about to step into that sweet
peace which is found nowhere but about
the family fireside.
But she did not hesitate. "I am only
paying interest on the debt I owe his
mother, Johu; I can never hope to pay
the principal," she urged.
John Eastman smothered his disap
pointment, and said, "It shall be as you
wish, Merry; but it will be a very loug
year to me."
Before the year ended Uncle George's
wife died, and her two children, Robert
and Annie, were added to Aunt Merry's
charge.
She hesitated when Uncle George came
to ask her to come over aud take charge
of his house.
"No, George," she said, "I cannot."
"Just a little while, Merry," he begged,
"until we can get things iu workiug or
jder; just one year."
"IJut there is Johu!" she insisted. "I
owe something to John."
"And to no one else, Merry?" asked
Uncle George. "What if Eunice and
I had not cared for you when you were
left alone?"
She turned pale when Uncle George
reniiuded her of her obligation. Aftet
all, more would be expected of her thau
the mere interest upon her debt. Like
many other ddbts, whether of money, of
gratitude, or of affection, hers had come
to face her at the moment when she was
the least prepared for it.
lier lips trembled when she attempted
to speak; she put out her hand as if
seeking some support, and rested it
! heavily upon the back of a chair.
I cau never forget that scene. Boy as
I I was, I realized that it was the sacrifice
lof a life. I lifted my poor twisted bodr
upon my pillows, and from my corner
I watched the struggle my aunt was inak
| 'ug-
Uncle George stood leaning against
| the low mantel, looked heavy-eyed aud
weary. Auut Merry stood before hiia,
with her hand upon the tall chair. Tho
young face was growing grave—the girl
| hail given place to the woman.
While I watched, tho sunlight crept
through the open window and crowued
the brown braids of hair with a kind of
j halo, just as the firelight touches the j
silver ones to-night. Then Aunt Merry j
lifted her head aud said softly, "I will
come, George."
So Johu Eaotman was asked to wait a
second time. "Just one jcar yet, John," |
Aunt Merry begged. "Let me feel that j
I have at least paid my debt in part." j
But at the end of the year she said, ]
•'There is so much to do, John; let us
give the children ouo more year. We |
can spare so much to them. Just one! \
1 promise not to ask another, John."
With a heavy heart he answered
for tho third time, "It shall be as you j
wish, Merry."
I think Aunt Merry began to feel then j
that ati unseen power was shaping her
life iu a strange, uncouiprebended j
mould.
Strange indeed! Before the year j
ended a scourge passed over the city, j
The Angel of Death hung his black ban
ner on almost every door. Unclo George
was among the first to be stricken.
"God bless you. Merry," he said;
"dou't forget the children; God bless
you!" With the blessing still on his lips,
he left us.
Then she was glad that sho had stayed
with him; the sacrifice was fully repaid
in that last blessing.
But the next day little Auuie laid her
hot cheek against Auut Merry's, and
cried out that the fever was burning her
throat. For eight days tho little life
swung iu the balance; but on the ninth
she crept into Aunt Merry's arms and j
whispered, "Good auntie!" just once I
before death set a seal upon the childish j
lips.
The black bauuer floated again from |
our door, aud met an answeriug signal !
through all the stricken town.
Death played upon many heart-strings; j
but none, I think, were so entirely swept j
as was Auut Merry's. She had scarcely j
seen the clay hoaped upon the grave of j
little Annie before a messenger came for 1
her. John—honest, patient John East
man—was dying.
Poor Aunt Merry! The blows foil so !
fast that she had scarcely time to consid- j
or the magnitude of one before a lioavier !
sunk it out of sight.
This was the ltutf; when the light left I
John Eastman's eyes, hope left Auat
Merry's heart, to follow into and fix it
self upon that UDknown land into which
his soul had drifted.
"Don't reproach yourself," he had
snid, at the last; "you did your duty.
Merry. God bless you!"
We uevcr called her "Aunt Merry"
after that—never but once. It was the
day they buried John Eastman; and she
turned to mo with a look of hopeless sor
row upon her pale, sweet face, and said,
"Call me 'Aunt Meredith,' child."
The years have crowded fast, in spite
of crippled bodies and lioarts that give
back echoless answers. Thirty and five;
I have notched them upon my crutches;
ten upon two, the last one fifteen. For
the twisted body is well-nigh spent, and
the last crutch is as good as new, savo
for the notches where my knifo has re
corded the years.
I have borne my burden tolerably,
with Aunt Meredith's help. She has
borne hers grandly, without help.
Without help, did I say? Then I
spoke too quickly; for one evening I
found her sitting alone on the west piaz
za, among the honeysuckles and jasmine
vines, watching the sombre cloud-banks
piling across the sunset, or forming into
a purple bridge to span the crimson
cloud-lakes.
. Hlie did not hear my crutch upon the
! soft sward, and her voice was scarcely
more than the hum of the bees in the
yellow jasmine bells.
- "No man, liaviug put his hand to the
plow, and looking back, is fit for the
kingdom of God."
Every step of my life, the clouded and
j the cloud loss, has been blessed and
brightend by her. She has paid her
debt, interest and principal, and is now
herself the lender; for when Uncle Clay's
wife died ten years ago, four others were
admitted to her household—Uucle Clay
himself, Frank, May and Richard.
Frank and May have both been into
say good-night since I have beeu lying
here, thinking about Aunt Meredith's
mistake. May hugged her with both
arms, and said, softly: "The blessedest,
best uuntie;" while Frank stood a mo
ment behind her chair and softly stroked
the silver braids and recounted the day's
trials and its pleasures.
"1 shall be a man soon, and take carc
of you, Aunt Meredith," was his good
uiglit.
Auut Meredith nodded and smiled,
and went to open the door for Robert,
pausing as she passed my lounge to draw
the covers more closely about my shoul
ders, while I lay here as if asleep.
Then for half an hour she and Robert
sat there before the tire, while Robert
told her everything.
First, he had thought he might take
still another set of books to keep. By
staying au hour later every night he
could accomplish it. But Aunt Mere
dith said: "No, dear. It is not right to
stay out so very late;" and the books
were given up.
Then the clock struck half-past ten.
i Robert rose and lighted Auut Meredith's
j candle; and again the halo seemed to
• form around the silver braids, ami
| showed me the smile upon iier pale face
I as Robert bent his head to kiss her faded
j cheek.
Now she is gone, and it is Robert who
i bends over my pillow and whispers,
"Poor Clarence 1" as he draws the covers j
ever so lightly over my chest.
And now, he, too, is asleep; but his 1
bed is so near that I can touch hitu if I
choose. A little silver call-bell is in
reach on the other side.
"You may want water, dear," Aunt
Meredith said, when she put the bell
there; as if I did not know what it is
Auut Meredith fears. It is the black
banner on the door-knob.
But I am not thinking of that to-niglit.
lam thinking of Aunt .Meredith; and
thinking of her life, so full of promise
and so barren of fulfilment, and of my
life so devoid of promise, and yet so full J
of peace.
1 am thinking, too, of the lives of the
children asleep in their beds; of the '
young man about to enter the world— !
pure of heart and strong of purpose; of
the graves of the two men who blessed
Aunt Meredith with their last breath; of j
the dying pillows made easy by her prom
ises; of the little child who only left the
shelter of her arms to slip away to God's. [
When I remember these, I bless Aunt
Meredith's mistake.— Youth's Companion.
Courts of Conciliation.
"Foutigelsis ICommission," or courts '
of conciliation which have existed for
years iu Denmark have worked to a j
charm and are well worthy of imitation j
everywhere, and especially iu this coun- j
try, where all of our courts arc crowded !
to repletion with busiuess. Theso are !
not courts of arbitration, but arc con- j
ducted on this plan: There is one judge \
and two assistants, none of whom are |
professionals, but are taken from among j
citizens the same as we take jurors, by
consent of all parties. Every case to bo j
acted on must bo brought before theso j
courts of conciliation before it can bo |
takeu Into a regular court of law. Tho
plaintiff coines without counsel, none be
ing allowed on either side, and statos his j
case plainly, and the defendant is sum- I
to appear on a certain day, cither
iu person or by proxy, otherwise ho is
fined if the case has to bo taken to a l
law court. Then each party is heard
and questioned by the judge, who tells
him of the legal rights and duties of each
and gives advico or suggestions. The i
parties are not obliged to take this, but j
if they do, aud agree to settle, the judg- I
ment is without appeal aud final.—jViw j
York Dispatch.
Terms—sl.2s in Advance; $1.50 after Three Month*
SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL.
Electrical smelting is announced.
Compressed coal dust is coming into
extensive use in France.
The laundries in Rutland, Vt., are
aow run by electric power.
An electrician predicts that electrical
ire works will soon supersede those now
•sed.
A wool of good quality is said to havo
been made from the fibre of the fir by
the aid of electricity.
The maximum safe velocity of cast iron
(Iv wheels should not exceed a rim speed
of eighty feet per second.
Of 305 weather forecasts issued in
South Australia in 1890, 250 were veri
fied and forty were partially verified.
It is stated that coffee is a germicide,
the bacilli of cholera and typhus having
been destroyed by the infusion of coffee.
An attempt to produce artificial rain
is to be made in Kansas. Balloons filled
with hydrogen and oxygen gas will be
sent up and exploded by electricity.
Thunder storms are gradually decreas
ing in number in the larger towns of
Natal, South Africa, according to the
Superintendent of the Natal Observa
tory.
A Parisian camerist has devised a
method of taking panoramic views by
causing the camera to revolve on an axis
so that the sensitive paper may "take
in"the horizon.
A German biologist says that the two
aides of a face are never alike. In two
cases out of live the eyes arc out of line;
one eye is strouger than the other iu
seven persons out of ten aud the right
ear is generally higher than the left.
Iu Sweden an improved quality of
glass for use in microscope and other
fine lenses is secured by the addition of
phosphorus and chlorine. Absolute
transparency, great hardness, and sus
ceptibility to tho finest polish arc thus
obtained.
More than 140 different applications
of electric motors have beeu enumerated,
and tho number is still increasing. The
sizes- of the motors range from those
having the power of a mouse up to one
of 5000 horse power, which is iu opera
tion near Loudon.
Experiments with electric motors in
elevating and depressing heavy guns
and tunning them in the right direction
have been made in France A saving of
time was effected. The three Chilian
warships building in Franco will be pro
vided with such appliances.
The latest scheme for direct railway
communication between England and
France provides for a double water
tight tube, capable of containing two
railway tracks, and sunk about forty feet
in the channel. "The engineer propos
ing this method proposes to utilize the
displacement and buoyance of the tube
to give tho necessary support, piles be
ing ilriveu into the channel, to which
the tube would be chaiued to prevent it
risitig."
The "schiscophone" is the name giv
eu to an instrument for discovering flaws
in metals, invented by Captain Louis De
Place of the Paris school of cavalry.
The instrument consists of a microphone
combined with a mechanical striker and
a sonometer. In using this instrument
one operator directs the striker over tho
surface of the metal under examination,
while another listens at the telephone iu
an adjoining roam. When the striker
hits a point over a flaw the sound is in
creased, aud the increase is so magnified
by the microphoue that the listener at
the telephone can detect its presence.
Tests of the instrument were made at
Ermont on tho rails for the Northern
railway company, aud iu every case
where a flaw was indicated by the in
strument it was found to exist on break
ing the rail.
Raisins From Grapes.
Raisins arc merely dried grapes pre
pared by several processes, but in Europe
only two are generally practised. Oue
of these consist iu partially cutting
through the stalk of the ripeniug bunches
and then allowing them to hang on the
vines until the berries shrivel und dry by
tho heat of the sun. Theseare considered
the best raisins aud are kuown as the
Muscatels. Large quantities are raised
and exported from Malaga. In the other
process the grapes when gatliered are
hung on lines or spread out on drying
floors to dry in the sun. When dried
they are dipped in hot lye, to which has
been added a little olive oil and salt.
After dippiug tho fruit is spread out on
wicker work to drain and dry still more,
after which tho raisins are stripped from
the stalks and packed in boxes. But all
the grapes from which raisins are made
are different from any of our native
species and varieties, none of which will
answer for raisins, as their pulp is not
firm and hard enough, and when we
undertake to dry them there is little left
but skin and seeds. A good laisin grape
must have a flesh of a firm consistency,
somewhat like that of a good plume or
prune, as the imported article is called.
Tho raisins of California are made from
the Europcau varieties of the grape and
not from any of the American species.
Raisin grapes will not thrive in Pennsyl
vania unless raised under glass, against
wails, or other protected situations.—
New York bun.
Out of the conflicting statements con
cerning the seasou's crops, the or.ly tiling
curtain is that the hair crop generally
tqads to shortness.— PhUatlelphia Timet.
NO. 43.
AB ASTRIS,
I saw the stars sweep through ethereal
space,—
Stars, suns, and systems in infinity,—
Our earth an atom in the shoreless sen
Where each had its appointed path and
place,
And I was lost in my own nothingness.
But when I said, Dost thou not know that
Ho
Who guides these orbs through trackless
space guides thee!
Wo longer,, groveling thus, thyself abase,
For in the vast, harmonious, perfect wholo
In infinite progression moving on,
Thou host thy place, immortal human •
soul—
Thy place and part not less than star and
sun.
Then with this grand procession fall in
line,
This rythmic march led od by power di
vine.
-—•dune C. L. Botta, in the Century.
11 I'M OK OF THE DAY.
A bald headed man's hair is like a fool
and his money.
Never attempt to sit down in a chair
that isn't there.
Banker Wales is reported seriously em
barrassed.—Boston Herald.
Poems on "washday" should be called
clothes lines.— Darin oil It; Breeze.
Magistrates have a great many fine op
portunities in life.— Philadelphia Times,
The man who stole the chicken made
a clean breast of it.— Boston Transcript.
A tunnel must be completed before it
can be called under way.— Elmira Ga
zette.
Some men's talent for discovery is al
together in the lino of fault finding.—
Boston Courier.
Many men do not smoke, yet there arc
but few who object to an occasional pull.
Lowell Courier.
It would not bo wise to suppose that
the floating population lives entirely on
water— Statesman.
If a man tries to be jus l ; to himself he
will begin to have trouble with his
friends.— Atchison Globe.
A mau is willing that a woman should
have the last woril if only she saya
"Yes."— Soincroille Journal.
Tom—"Do you believe in hero-wor
ship, Jack?" Jack—"No, but I do iu
heroine-woialiip."— Yankee Blade.
lie \Vas Loaded: .iudge—' l What's the
prisoner charged with?" Officer—
"Whisky, ycr honor."— Barnard Lam
poon.
Mudge—"l'd mush rather a man called
me a knave than a fool." Yabsley—
"Of course. It's the truth that hurts."
—lndianapolis Journal.
A Bad Shot: lie—"l have never yet
met the woman I thought I could marry."
She—"No, they arc very hard to please,
as a rule."— Life's Calendar.
They say that 1 have cut u tooth,
But why I cannot see,
If they would only heed the truth,
They'd see that it cut me.
—Harper's Bazar.
"Several important steps quicklv
taken," murmured the young man wheu
the girl's father helped him over the
front door sill.— Washington Post.
"What is unselfishness?" asks a sub
scriber. "Unselfishness is one of the
rarest qualities iu the world to find iu
auyone else."— New York Recorder.
"Mother, may I go out to swim?"
"You do, if you dare, my son;
And then I'll take a hickory limb
To dry you, sura as a gun!"
—New York Journal.
"Is it true that a graduate soon for
gets what he has learned at college?"
"No, sir; it is not. I can play football
just as well now as wheu I was at Yale."
—Puck.
"Who isthat weazened-looking little
man with the squeaky voice on the plat
foirn?" "That's the grand supreme dic
tator of the Royal Panjandrums."— St.
Louis llepublie.
"What is that?" said a visitor, as the
dogcatcher's wagon went down the
street. "That," replied the Western
man, "is one of the latest ideas in rabid
transit."— Washington Post.
Miss Fussanfeather—"l like to sec a
girl stick to her colors." Young Crim
sonbeak (brushing the paint from his
nose) —"So do I; and I like to see her
colors stick to her!"— Statesman.
Mrs. Bondclipper—"Doctor, what do
you think is the matter with me?" Doc
tor— "I am inclined to think your blood
is not pure. I'll have to give you some
thing to purify your blood." Mrs. Bond
clipper (haughtily)—" You are probably
not aware that 1 belong to one of the old
Dutch families of New York."— Texas
Sij'tings.
"Cyrus," said his wife, as he came in
wearily and threw himself ou the lounge
after an evening downtown, "I wish you
would let politics alone. The excitement
and worry are just ruiniug your health."
"I can't help it, Emily," replied the Al
derman from the S'teentli Ward. "I am
not in politics for my health."—Chktiijo
Tribune.
Brobson—"Y"ou look all broken up,
old man. What's the matter?" Craik
"I called ou Miss Pruyn last night, aud
no sooner had 1 entered the parlor thau
her mother appeared and demanded to
know my intentions." Brobson—"That
must have been rather embarrassing."
Craik—"Yes, but that was not the
worst. Just as the old lady finished
speaking Miss I'ruyn shouted dowu
stairs: 'Mamma, mamma, hu isn't the
o<\e!'"■ -iVfiW) York Sun.