SULLIVAN JS& REPUBLICAN.
W. M, CHENEY, Publisher.
VOL. XI.
More than one million Federal sol
dier* of the Civil War are still living.
It is interesting to learn that Arizona
is as large as Great Britain and Ireland
combined.
"Soup, Soap and Salvation" is the
concisj motto in the rooms of the Bal
timore Free Sunday Breakfast. Associa
tion.
In tho new Maine town of Rumford
Falls, where not even a log hut stow* a
year ago, a SIO,OOO residence is build
ing and 700 men arc at work upon mills
and other structures.
The report of the Society of Friends
in England shows an incsease in its
membership of 221 over last year, bring
ing it up to a total of 22,287. There
are now in Great Britain 340 "meet
ings."
The Victoria Government finds itself
compelled to reduce the bonuses paid for
ttie export af butter. Last year as much
as §150,000 was used for this purpose,
six cents per pound being paid on all
butter that realized over twenty-five cents
in the English viarket.
Few cities ever get started—"laid
out," as it is commoily called—as they
should be. They get in shape by mere
chance and that, explains tbo Chicago
Herald, is why they are so frequently
misshapen. New York City has fewer
alleys than any other city in the woild,
notwithstanding it is one of the largest.
"London requires some women to act
as sanitary inspectors," is the opinion of
Dr. Corner, Medical Officer for Poplar.
With the help of efficient women work
ing among the poor, he thinks epidemics
might be nipped in the bud. Glasgow,
Scotlmd, already has six women in
spectors, who are doing an admirable
work.
Certain gentlemea of large ideas an
nounce that they intend building an air
line from the Atlantic to tho Pacific.
"To those of ideas somewhat less
magnified," comments the San Francisco
Examiner, "the raising of the necessary
$700,000,000 might seem in the nature
of an obstacle, though attention is not
called to the fact with any view to
discouraging enterprise."
Imports of wheat into Great Britaiu
during the fiscal year just closed have
amounted to nearly 180,000,000 bushels.
This large quantity is in excess of the
present requirements of the country, and
the result has been that the price of this
grain has fallen lower than ever known
previously. It is believed that 16),O00,-
000 bushels will be needed to supply the
deficiencies of the coming year.
It seems to the New Orleans Picayune
that another expedition to rescue Emin
Pusha is in order. Dr. Stuhlman has
written a letter from Tabora staling that
Emin is at the south end of Lake Albert
Nyanzn, almost at the mercy of tho
Arabs, whose revolt has spread from the
Congo Free State into the German terri
tories, and that he is waiting for assist
ance to get away. It is not state 1
whether Stanley will goto his assistance
again.
British newspapers are discussing
earnestly the question of cloakrooms in
churches, referring to the absence of,
and abiolutc necessity for, facilities for
disposing of wraps, hats and overcoats.
Some churches in the country have wire
hatracks beneath the seats, and a few
hive wire bars for overcoats and wraps
on the backs of seats. Oae church in
Chicago has regular opera chairs and the
attendant conveniences. A cloaknom
seems to tho New York Tribune to fill a
long-felt want, for there docs not appear
to be any good reason, these days, auy
way, why a man or woman should not
be as comfortable in a church as inn
theatre.
At a recent meeting of the American
Society of Civil Engineers, B. W. De-
Courcv related an interesting
while acting as Supervisor and Bridge
Engineer of a railway. He had to use
one of the three-wheel velocipedes run
ning on the railway, frequently employed
by the maintenance of way officials, and
as his track rau through a number of
narrow cuts, he happened one day to
think over the best thing to do should
he meet an engine. He decided that tho
only way out of this trouble would be to
jump and at the same time overset the
velocipede to the right. A trial of this
plan showed that it could be carried out
without injury. The value of this study
was apparent 6ome time after, when Mr.
DeCourcy was running out with his fore
man to inspect a bridge and met a loco
motive ahead of time in a rock cut about
eighteen feet deep. He threw himself
to the right and jumped at the £>am<
time, catching the small wheel ami
throwing bis back against the rocky side
of the cut. It was done so quickly that
the engineer thought he had run ovei
the men ant 1 so reported -at tho station.
THANKSGIVING DAY!
With grateful hearts Ist all give thanks,
All lands, all stations, and all ranks:
And the cry comes up along the way,
For what shall we give thanks) to-day F
For peace and plenty, busy mills,
"The cattle on a thousand hills,"
For bursting barns, wherein is stored
The golden grain, a precious hoard:
Give thanks!
For orchards bearing rosy fruit.
For yielding pod and toothsome root.
And all that (tod declared was good
In hill or dale, or field or wood:
Give thanks)
For water bright and sweeet and clear,
A million fountains far and near.
For gracious streamlets, lakes, and rills
That flow from everlasting hills:
Give thanks!
For summer dews and timely frost.
The sun's bright beams, not one ray lost.
For willing hands to sow the seed
And reap the harvest, great indeed:
Give thanks!
For hearth and home—love's altar fires —
For loving children, thoughtful sires;
For tender mothers, gent!* wive?.
Who fill our hearts and bless our lives:
Give thanks?
For heaven's care, life's journey through.
For health and strength to dare and do,
For ears to hear, for eyes to sea
Earth's beauteous things on lanl and saa:
Give thanks I
—M. A. Kidder.
BESSIE'S THANKSGIVING.
BY KATE M. CLEARY.
4HUF MOST diffident
M M and modest
/j| knock it was.
Perhaps because
zr- mit was so very
fl diffident, so very
/"3/i.Cri modest, irritated
*M a " t ' le raore t ' le
l ifflil 'Tiers Ji peculiarly alert
« Dervcs °f Mr.
'I Godfrey Kirke.
"Oh, come in,
V\\ 4 come in!" he
cried.
An elderly woman entered the room.
She had a small, pale withered face; a
kind face, though, pleasant, gentle.
She was dressed in a worn dark gown.
The net fichu, crossed over her slender
shoulders, was clasped by an old-fash
ioned medallion.
"To-morrow will be Thanksgivmg
•▼e," she said; "I wished to know if I
might prepare for the day after."
An originally handsome apartment,
this in which the old man sat, and it
had been handsomely furnished. Now
both the room and its belongings bore
the mark of' creeping poverty, or ex
treme penu-iou9ness. Tho master of the
house, seated by the center table, seemed
to share the character of the room. He,
too, had been handsome once. Now
he was expressive only of age and in
digence, from the threadbare collar of
his limp dressing-gown to the tips of his
thin and shabby slippers.
"Prepare what?" he growled.
"Why a turkey, sir; or a pie, or—or
• bit of cranberry-sauce, sir—"
He looked so fierce, hor words died in
her throat.
"Turkey! And where do you sup
pose I can get the money to spend on
turkey ? And pie! To make us al I s ick,
and bring doctors and doctors' bills
down on me! And," with a sniff of
disgust, "cranberry sauce—the skinny
stuff! No, Mrs. Dotty. A bit of bacon
and some bread will be good enough for
poor folks like us—good enough."
His housekeeper, for that was the un
enviable position Mrs. Dotty occupied in
Godfrey Kirke's household, resolved to
make one last appeal.
"OH, COME IN, COME IN!" HE CRIED.
"But I thought perhaps on account ol
the child," she began.
"The child—thechild!" he repeated,
irascibly, "I'm sick of hearing about
her."
Indignation made Mrs. Dotty quite
bold for once.
"She's your own granddaughter, sir.
That's what she is."
"Well, I didn't ask for her, did It 1
never wanted to adopt her. What right
had her mother to make such a poor
hand of herself hy marrying Tom Bar
rett, and then ccme back to die here,
and leave me her girl? Eh? She's an
expense, I tell you; that's all. An ex
pense!"
"The Lord help us, but he's getting
worse than ever!" murmured the woman,
as, with a bang that was downright dis
respectful, she slammed the door behind
her.
"You—you, Miss Bessie!"
She started, as she looked up, and saw
Bessie Barrett standing so near her. -She
was a slim, brown-haired little thing, of
about seventeen. She was clad in an ill
made gown of coarse maroon cashmere.
Her eyes were large, gray, just now very
sorrowful. Her lashes and brows wer<
quite black. The delicate features had a
pinched look, and the pretty lips were
paler than should be the lips of one »t
young.
LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 1892.
"Yea; and I—heard."
"Oh, don't—don't mind, dear!" (aid
Mra. Dotty, soothingly, putting a hand
that looked like wrinkled ivory on the
girl's arm. "He is joat a cross, soured,
lonely old man."
"I do mind I"Bessie passionately cried.
"Oh, Idol I sha'n't stay here I I sha'n't
be an expense to him any longer. I will
go away somewhere!"
She broke down in a fit of bitter
weeping.
"Now, Miss Bessie, dear, you mustn't
cry that way; you really mustn't. I
loved your mother before you, and I lore
you."
But the poor, little, old comforter was
almost crying herself.
Years before, the Kirkes were the
people of wealth and position in thai
part of the country. But one trouble
after nnsther had come upon the house.
First, the wife of the master died.
Maud, the daughter, married a man
whose only crime was poverty. He was
a frail, scholarly mai. quite unfitted for
a fierce struggle against adverse fortune.
He fell ill and died. A year later his
wife followed him, leaving their child
to its grandfather, Godfrey Kirke. To
the latter had come the final blow when
his only son Robert, his hope and pride,
had run away to sea. Then in the
house, which since the death of the mis
tress had been a cheerless and dreary
place, began a rigid reign of miserliuess
and consequent misery.
Bessie broke from her friend and ran
upstairs and into her own little bare
room. There was no fire in the grate,
though the day was cold with the pene
trating damp of a wind from off the
ocean. She went to the window and
stood there looking out across the fiat
brown marshes, to where the waters
tossed, greenish and turbulent.
"A horrid day," she said, with a
shiver, "but it can't be worse out than
in."
She put on a short old Astrahan
jacket, a little felt hat and a pair of
much-mended cloth gloves. Then she
went quickly down and out.
The duik, the dreary November dusk,
was filling the room when the old man,
plodding over his accounts, laid down
his pencil and rang the bell. Mrs.
Dotty responded. Mr. Kirke kept but
one other servant (if Mrs. Dotty could
correctly be termed a servant), and she
absolutely refused to enter the protest
ing presence of her mastei.
••Tea!"
"Yes, sir."
The meek housekeeper withdrew.
Teu minutes laber she brought in a tray
on which were tea, bread, butter, two
cups, two saucers and two plates. Mr.
Kirke poured out his tea, shook a little
of the sugar be was about to use back in
the old silver bowl, added carefully a
few drops of milk and cut a slice of
bread.
"Butter has gone up three cents in the
last week," he said. "I can't afford to
use butter."
So he munched hisbread dry, with a
sense of exaltation in his self-imposed
penauce. He would not open the
poorhouse-door for himself by using but
ter. But, somehow, the rank tea tasted
ranker than usual. Surely the bread
was sour. And the gloom outside the
small circle that the lamplight illumined
seemed singularly dense. What was
wrocg? What was missing? What was
different? He paused, hia hand falling
by his side. The child—as he and Mrs.
Dotty had always called her—the child
was not here. She used to slip in so
quietly, take her seat, and when her
meager supper was over, glide away just
as softly. Yes, little as he notaced her,
she was generally there. He rang the
bell sharply.
"Where is she?" he asked Mrs. Dotty,
when she popped in her mild old head.
There was no need to particularize. Mrs.
Dotty cast a swift, searching look
arour.d.
"Isn't she here?"
Without waiting lor a reply, she
turned and ran up the stairs to Bessie's
room. There she knocked. No
answer. She opened the door, went in.
The room was empty.
Hastily she descended the/stairs.
"Shs is not in, sir."
"Where is she?"
"I don't know, sir."
Impatiently Godfrey Kirkje pushed his
chair back from the table.
"You ought to know; it's your busi
ness to know. But it doesn't matter—
it doesn't matter in the least."
Down to Hanna in the kitchen went
Mrs. Dotty.
"Did you see Miss Bessie?"
"Yes'm. Passin' westward a couple
of hours ag J— yes'm."
"Oh!"
Mrs. Dotty breathed a relieved sigh.
Bessie had probably gone to Rose Dover's
house. The Devers lived almost a mile
1 away. As a storm was blowing up she
would most likely stay there over night.
About ten o'clock Mr. Kirke's bell
again tingled out. Again Mrs. Dotty
appeared before him.
"Has the child come in?"
"No, sir."
"Do you know why she went out? 1 '
'•I suspect, sir."
"Well, speak up."
"She overheard our conversation to
! day."
"What of it?"
"Nothing of it," with a very angry
flash from very faded eyes, "except that
she rowed she would be an expense to
you no longer."
"She did, eh?"
"She did."
"Well," grimly, "I hope sha won't!''
The child had a sulky fit. She was
probably at the house of some neighbor.
She would return when her tantrum had
passed off. All this he told himself.
Still he sat in his lonely room till long
after midnight, listening, listening.
When he finally went to bed it was to
roll and moan till daylight, in the vague
wretchedness of unhappy dreams.
Noon—the noon before Thanksgiving
eve, —came, went. Bessie did not re
turn.
All forenoon it rained. Toward even
ing the rain eeased, and a fog, a chill,
smoky, blinding fog, began to creep up
from the Atlantic.
"If you don't mind," said Mrs. Dotty,
making her appearance with a shawl over
her head, "I'll just run over to Devers'
and see what is keeping Mias Bessie."
"Do!" he answered.
She had spoken as if the distance were
not worth' considering, but it was quite a
journey for her. When she returned she
looked white and scared.
"She isn't there—hain't been."
"Hark!" said Godfrey Kirke, holding
up one lean hand.
"That is only the carrier with the
flour."
"Ask him if he has seen her?"
Mrs. Dotty went into the hall. Almost
instantly she returned.
"He has not. He says there is the
body of a young woman at the town
morgue."
"What!"
Godfrey Kirke leaped from his chair.
"He says that the body of a young girl
was tound in the East Branch to-day.
Godfrey Kirke sank back in his seat.
Mrs. Dotty smiled a hard little smile to
herself as she closed the door and went
away. She knew how many friends
Bessie had. She shrewdly suspected if
she were not found at one place she
would be at another; and she was malici
ously and plea*ntly conscious that she
bad given the hard-hearted old man a
genuine scare.
Long the latter sat where she had left
him. Thinking. For the first time in
years he was thinking, sadly, seriously,
solemnly. Than'sgiving-eve! In his
wife's time the house used to be gay and
cheerful on that night, so filled with com
fort and bright anticipations, so odorous
with the homely fragrance of good things
in the kitchen, so delightfully merry with
the brisk bustle attendant on the mor
row's festivity. Now it was desolate,
dreary, darksome with depressing and
unutterable gloom. Whose fault was it?
His! decided Goifrey Kirke, as savagely
relentless to himself in this moment as
he would have been to another. His I
RR HAD THE WEAPON IN HIS HA.NB.
when his devoted wife had drooped and
died under his ever-increasing arrogance,
dictation. Ilisl when Maud married the
first man who offered himself, to escape
from her father's pretty rule. His! when
Robert ran away to escape the narrow
obligations and unjust restrictions laid
upon him. His! when the child his
dead daughter had left him could no
longer endure his brutality, or accept
from him the scant support he so grud
gingly gave. His fault—all his I In
those lonely hours the whole relentless
tiuth dawned upon him, as such truths
will dawn, in most bitter brilliance. He
dropped his head on liis hands with u
groan.
He looked around the dim, shabby
room. He looked at the dying fire in
the grate. He wondered of what use
would be to him now his twenty-thou
sand in bonds, his eight hundred acres
of meadow land, the money he had out
at iuterest. He rose in a dazed kind of
way, a shadowy purposetakiug definite
ness in his mind. He wished he had
been bettor to Besse; he wished—but
what was the use of wishing now? There
could bo but one satisfactory answer to
all his self-condemnation. A shot from
the revolver iu the drawer yonder,that he
had always kept in readiness for possible
burglars. He rose. He moved toward
tho"table. His figure cast a fantastic
shadow ou the wall. The tears were
streaming down his cheeks. There
might be thanksgiving for his death,
though there could never have been any
for his life.
Hark!
He had the weapon in his hand. He
started nervously. Was that Bessie's
voice? He turned, dropping the revolver
with a clatter. Ye 3, there she was, not
three feet away, fresh, fair, damp, smil
ing.
"It is the queerest thing," she said,
coming towaid him as she spoke. "I
felt—badly—yesterday, and I went over
to Mrs. Farnham's to see if she could get
me work. I met Mrs. Nelson, and she
asked me togo home with her. Dicky
was iIL, Bnd she wanted me to stay over
night. She sent you a note. At least
she sent the boy with it, but he lost it,
aud only told her so this afternoon. As
soon as I knew that I started home,
alone— although Dicky >vas no better."
"Yes?" said Godfrey Kirke. He was
listening with an unusual degree of in
terest.
"And to-night, when I was almost
nere, (Nelsons' is quite two miles away,
you kuow), I got lost in the fog."
Her grandfather regarded her in
amazerrent. What made he pale cheeks
so bright? What excitement had
blackened her gray eyes?
"And—a p-entleman who was coming
here found me, and—*and brought me
home. Please thank him, grandpa.
Here he is!"
With an inctedulous, gasping cry,
Godfrey Kirke retreated, as a big brown,
muscular fellow came dashing in from
the hall.
"Robert!"
"Father!"
Tbeu they were clasped in each other's
arms.
"I'm back from ti.s sea for good,
father. And I chanced to find my little
niece Bessie lost out there in the fog. A
young lady, I vow! And I was think
ing of her as a mere baby yet! Just
think! Bhe tells me Charlie Nelson
wants her—''
"Not Well, Charlie is a fine fellow.
He can have her—a year from to-day."
80 now you know why the Kirke
homestead is dazzling with lights and
flowers, and why it resounds with laugh
ter this Thanksgiving; why old Godfrey
"ROBEUTI" "FATHER!"
wears 11 brann-new suit, and a flower in
his buttonhole; why Robert, io his
rightful place, looked so proud and
pleased; why dear, busy little Mrs.Dotty
beams benignly; why Bessie, gowned in
snowy, shining silk, thinks this is a
lovely old world after all; why Charlie
Nelson is so blessedly conteut, and why
in each and every heart reigns supreme
Thanksgiving.—The Ledger.
Thanksgiving Roast Fig.
Take a choice fat pig six weeks old,
not younger, though it may be a little
older, Have it carefully killed and
dressed, and thoroughly washed. Trim
out carefully with a sharp, narrow-bladod
knife the inside of the inouth aud ears,
cut oui the tongue and- eliop off the eud
of the snout. Hub the pig well with a
mixture of salt, pepper and pounded
sage, and sprinkle it rather liberally with
reel pepper, and a dash outside, too.
Make a rich stuffing of bread cru nbs
—com bread stuffing is de rigeur for
pig, though you can put half of one and
half of the other inside of Mr. Piggy if
somebody insists on loaf bread stuffing.
It you use corn bread, have a thick, rich
pone of bread baked, and crumble it as
soon as it is cool enough to handle, sea
son it highly with black and red pepper,
sage, thyme, savory marjoram,- minced
onion—just enough to flavor it, aud
plenty of fresh butter; moisten it well
with stock, crean., or evcu hot water.
Stuff the pig well and sew it up closely.
If you have a tin iv-usterand open tire,
the pig will be roasted by that much
better. If you have not, put the pig in
a long pan and set it in the oven, and
leave the stove door open until the pig
begins to cook, gradually closiug the
poor, so that the cooking will not b3
done too fast. The pig must be well
dredged with flour when putin the pan.
Mix some flour and butter together in a
plate, and pour about a quart of hot
water in the pan with the pig when it is
put on the fire. Have a larding-mop in
the plate of flour nnd butter, and mop
the pig frequently with the mixture
while it is roasting.
If a roaster is used, set it about two
feet from the fire at first, but continue
to move it nearer and nearer as the pig
cooks. Baste it frequently with the
water in the pan betweenwhiles of mop
ping with flour and butter.
To be sure the pig is done, thrust a
skewer through the thickest part of him;
if no pink or reddish juice oozes out it
is done, and ought to be a rich brown
all over. When the pig is done pour
the gravy in a saucepan and cook it
sufficiently. This will not be necessary
if the pitt was cooked in the stove oven.
The pig's liver may be boiled in well
salted water, pou&ded up, and added to
the gravy, which should be very savory
and plentiful.
The pig should be invariably served
with baked sweet potatoes and plenty of
good pickle and sauce, either mushroom
or gieen pepper catsup, for despite his
toothsomeness, roast pig is not very safe
eating without plenty of red pepper.—
Good Housekeeper.
An Informal Rspnst.
"I suppose," said Mrs. Brown, "you
would like me to wear a new dress at
this Thanksgiving dinner you aro going
to give?"
"Can't afford it," growled old Brown.
"As long as you have the turkey well
dressed you will pass muster."—Judge.
The Thanksgiving Turkey.
As Thanksgiving Day walks down this way
l'be strutting turkey is ill at ease;
"I'm poor as tho turkey of Job," says he;
"Tough and unlit to eat, you see;
I gobble no more ot my pedigree,
Lest some poor fellow should gobble me;
And a turkey buzzard I think I'll be.
For the present, if you please.'
—Bingbamton Republican.
Cause for Thanksgiving.
Sunday-school Teacher " VVillie,
have you had anything during the woek
to be especially thankful for?"
Willie— <l Yes'ra, Johnny Podgers
sprained his writt and I licked him for
the first time yesterday.
Free Press. "
A Thonght Fur llie Season.
He in whose store of blessings there may bo
Enough, and yet to spare,
8.-stowing, with a gentle charity,
Upon the poor a share.
By all the gladness that bis gifts provide
will have his own thanksgiving multiplied.
Tommy's Dream on Thanksgiving Night
Terms—Bl.oo in Advance; 81.25 after Three Months.
SCIENTIFIC AND INDUSTRIAL j
A doctor has launched the theory that
the best method of inducing a flow of
thought is to lay the head flat on the
table.
Dr. David D. Stewart, of Jefferson
Medical College, Philadelphia, claims to
have discovered that hydronapthol is a
cure for cholera.
There are ten places of the earth, dis
tant from each other 300 miles and up
wards, and yet none of the ten has either
latitude or longitude.
Londoners seriously discuss the ad
vantages of placing a school of crocodiles
in the Thames, to act as scavengers, and
thus purify the water.
Carl Voght, the celebrated German
anatomist, is responsible for the theory
that small-headed idiots aro a retrograde
movement toward the monkey type.
A post mortem examination of the
brain of a Missouri pauper showed that
it weighed 144 ounces, or more than
three times the weight of the normal
brain.
A microphone device has been invent
ed by a Frenchman which will reveal the
approach of di.itant vessels by making
audible the noise produced by them ition
of their propellers.
The latest cure for obesity is to par
take of only a siugle dish at a meal.
This, it is said, will in a few weeks re
duce the weight of the most obese per
son to a normal condition.
If a man who weighs 168 pounds
were proportionately ns strong as a fly
ing beetle of the cockchafer family he
would be able to push along level ground
a weight equal to 131 tons.
Chemical action formed a stone in the
stomach of La Marshale, the famous
hurdle jumping horse of Paris. He died,
and the stone, a ball nearly eight inches
in diame'er, is in the museum of a
Parisiau veterinary.
It is suggested that the muscular con
traction to which the corpses of cholera
victims are subject might give a clue to
the real nature of the disease. These
twitchings have led to the delusion that
many patients have been buried alive.
Aside from the honey stored by the
busy bee the Rhode Island Experiment
Station expresses the belief that the in
fluence bees and insects exert iu the
proper fertiliz ition of the flowers of
fruits and vegetables is of far greater
importance than is generally allowed.
Fossil remains of the huge animals
that inhabited the plains of Eastern Ore
gou hundreds of years ago are found in
the placer mine above Prairie City. A
huge tooth several inches across the
crown was picked up a few days ago,
while early iu the summer the immense
skull of some ancient species of animal
was found near the same place.
The color of shrimps and crabs
and also the color of their eggs are
known to vary greatly with the sur
rounding' Tnose living in green
sponges are much larger, lay vastly more
eggs, which arc also a little larger, and
the shrimps are green or yellow, and the
large claws are always orange-red, whi'.e
those of the brown sponges are red,
bluo or brown.
For all kinds of metals mix half a pint
of sweet oil with half a gill of turpen
tine; stir into this powdered rotten
stone till of the consistency of cream;
use iu the ordinary way. For tin, to
three pints of water put one ounce of
nitric acid, two ouuce3 of emery powder
and eight ounces of powdered pumice
stone; mix well and use with a flannel,
lettiug the mixture dry on the article to
be e'eaued; then polish with leather.
A Rit'dr jii(l Tolt!»;gaii for Milta l .
"Due of the queerest railoads any
where iu the country," said Rev. I). S.
Banks, of North Ontario, "is a novel
line that runs from South Ontario up to
North Ontario, in San Bernardino Coun
ty, California, where I live. The line is
seven miles long. A spin of stout
mules draw the car up over the road.
There is nothing singular about that, but
it conies in on the return trip.
"The seven miles are on a tilt all the
way, although the track does not look
like it. So when the car starts back
the mules get on and take a ride, the
car booming over the whole line by
gravity. The mules enjoy it, too.
They ride there in as self-satisfied a way
as any other passengers, and the view
seems equally as charming. North On
tario, you may know, is situated at the
mouth of San Antonio canyon, but thero
are a lot of magnificent mountains around
there. One colony, for they can scarce
ly be called towns, is situated on the
Santa Fe road and the other on
the Southern Pacific. It is the
seven miles of street railway that con
nect the two.
"The way they get the mules aboard
is this: There is a little truck under
the car, and it is pulled out, becoming
an adjunct to the regular passenger de
partment. The maroent the truck is
slid out the intelligent animals make a
start for it and step up and on. It is
extremely amusing the way they do it,
and the way they enjoy this ride, and
i,hey are great favorites with the people."
—San Francisco Examiner.
4 A Curious Difference.
• 'Did you ever notice the curious dif
ference in the sexes which is shown in
the way a man or a woman fixes a date!"
remarked a gentleman to a lady the
other day.
"You ask a man when such and such
a thing happeued, and he always an
swers, 'ln the year so and so,'or, 'About
l(f§0 and something'; but the woman
invariably says: 'About so many years
ago'; or 'lt was so many years after I
was married'; or 'The year after Teddy
was born,' and so on."
"Yes," replied his companion, "I
have policed it in myself. 1 feel that
'l am getting like the American widow
who dated all her farming operations
.from or before 'Tne yesr I planted Jim,'
which was hnr realistic way of referring
to her husband's burial."— Taokw
Blade.
NO. «.
THE BOBOLINK.
Across the stretch of marshy ptai*
The sunbeams flash and quiver, '
Among the ranks of ripening grain
And blooming brakes of rusting oane
By many a winding rirer.
Upon whose low and sedgy brink <
Th« blitho and bright eyed Bobolink
Sings -'Check! Chacki Tweed l«-d»»l
Come with me! You shall be
Glad and free—glad and free!
Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee-eef
The sea wind pilfers many a gem
Among the dewy rushes,
Upon her lithe and graceful stem.
The queenly star of Bethlehem •'
Droops, bathed in crimson blushes:
The sluggish waters rise and sink
And time thy song, ob, Bobolink 1
Hark! "Chack! Cbackl Tweedle-deet
Fame nor fee—troubles me!—
In my glee—glad and free!
Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee!" $
Through interlacing boughs that bar
The woodland's mystic bosom
Among yon shadowy depths afar
Shines like a newly fallen star
A bright magnolia blossom,
Near where the wild deer comes to drink
From some clear pool the Bobolink
Chants "Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee!
Fair and free—wool and lea —
Turf and tree—for thou and me—•
Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee!"
The g'int upon thy sheeny coat.
The splash of gold and scarlet;
Who would suspect such tender note
Should echo from thy dusky throat
Thou young Bohemian varlet?
The bashful stars bejin to blink,
'Tis vesper time, sweet Bobolink !
Ahl "Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee!
Come with me —so happy we—
Sorrow free—our dreams shall be—
Chack! Chack! Tweedle-dee-ee?'
—M. M. Folsom, in Atlanta Journal.
HUMOR OF THE DAT.
A fire escape—lnsurance.—Puck.
Better off—The man who is forced to
ride a rail.—New York Journal.
The victim of lynch law is usually
very high strung.—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
The rain always falls on the just when
the unjust has walked off with his um
brella.—New York Journal.
'•Did you know his business had ruu
down?" "I supposed so. I heard he was
going to wind it up."—Nast's Weekly.
A man's friends never find out just
how big a fool he can be until he gets
up to his neck in politics.—Ram's Horn.
The man who always stops to think
what he is going to say seldom says ex
actly what, he thinks.—Somerville Jour
nal.
4 'l wonder why the Mediterranean is
eo blue?" "You'd be blue if you had to
wash the Italian shore."—Life's Calen
dar.
•'As terrible as an army with banners"
has no reference to a political parade,
although the banners are terrible enough.
New York Herald.
The great value in astronomy as a
science, morally speaking also, is that it
tends to make people look higher.—
Philadelphia Times.
••It is the little things of life that
count," said the man who realized how
much noise a ten-pound baby can make.
—Washington Star.
•'Mudge is still looking for a snap, I
suppose?" "Yes, but he doesn't seem
to have the necessary ginger to make it.
—lndianapolis Journal.
Mother—"Do you know why your pa
called Mr. Blowhard a liar, Tommy?"
Tommy—"Ycs'm; he's a smaller man
than pa."—Brooklyn Life.
There are men with natures so small
that, if there is anything in transmigra
tion, they will probably appear as mi
crobes.—Washington Star.
It would do away with a groat deal
of trouble in this world if the gray was
more evenly divided between the inside
and the outside of the skull.—Chicago
Inter-Ocesn.
We have noticed that good people
usually wait until a guest has repeated
all the gossip she knows before admon
ishing her on the sinfulness of gossiping.
Atchison Globe.
First Office Boy—"That f.'entist in
room 48 don't seem to do much bus
iness." Second Office Boy—"Why?"
First Office Boy—"I nev« r hear anybody
yelling In there."—Yankee Blade.
Publisher—"l wish you would write
us a good sea story." Great Author—
"But I have never been to sea." Pub
lisher—"l know it. I want a sea story
that people can understand."—Tit-Bits.
He—"Why is it that meu arc not givcu
to saying spiteful things of other mem
bers of their sex as women are?" She—
"l suppose it is because they are too
busy bragging about themselves.'*—
Indiauapolis Journal.
The Boston girl never hollers "hello"
at the mouth of a telephone. She simply
Hay*, as she puts the receiver to her ear,
"I take the liberty of addressing you
via a wire surcharged with electricity."
—Texas Siftings.
Bertha breaks her dolt and it is sent
out to be tepaired. A few days later
Bertha goes to the store after it, but it
cannot be found. "Her name is Mar
guerite," sho explains to facilitate the
search.—Paris Figaro.
Customer (next February)—"l want
fifty cents' worth of coal, if you plesse."
Coal Dealer—"You'll have togo across
the street -if you want an order of that
kind filled. We don't sell less than one
lump."—Chicago Tribune.
• So," said the father, "you desire mj
consent to my daughter's engagement to
you." "No," replied Algernon, who
spent the summe.- at the seashore, "we
don't want to be engaged. We want to
get married."—Washington Star.
He—"l can't make up my mind what
to get for my new suit. I want some
thing that, as Shakesphere says, will
proclaim what kind of man I am." She
—•'' Why don't you get some dull ma
terial!"— Clothier ana Furnisher,