SULLIVAN JBS& REPUBLICAN.
W. M. CHENEY, Publisher.
VOL. XI.
Mulhall estimates that the civilized
Nations pay annually 813,700,000,000
for food.
The Slaughter family, of Texas, are
raid to be the mjst extensive land
owners in America, their combined
ownings amounting to 500,000 acres.
Fatness in women is regarded as a
mark of beauty in the Orient. Since
their advent in the World's Fair
grounds us sedan-cliair carriers, the
Turks have had a good deal to do with
fat women, and tho Argonant avers
that they have revised their esthetics.
Joint-stock farming, by which larger
agricultural operations can be carried
on under one management than is pos
sible for the single-handed farmer,
will probably lie one of the future de
velopments of our agricultural system.
This is a practical way of reducing the
cost of production.
An aerial electric railway, invented
by Albert Leslie Widdis, of Detroit, is
expected to perform wonders. The own
er claims that it will send cars whizzing
through space at the rate of 500 miles
an hour ! Think of it, exclaims the New
York Ledger, a letter mailed in Chi
cago will reach New York in two
hourß!
Observes the Detroit Freo Press:
"There is a certain amount of scientific
interest in knowing that it is not the
high temperature that makes the peo
ple uncomfortable, but the humidity
with which the air is charged. But un
fortunately the scientific fact does not
lessen the suffering. One is just as hot
after finding it out as when he was in
total ignorance on the point."
France is soon to adopt an interest
ing innovation in the postal-card sys
tem, announces the Argonaut. The
cards will be issued in the form of
check-books, with stubs. The sender
of tho postal card can make memo
randa of its contents on the stub, and
can have this stamped at the postofficc
before the card is detached, so that a
verified record of the correspondence
can be kept.
At the moment when horses
taken a back seat in this country cam
els have come to the foro in Australia.
It is said that five lines of traffic have
been already opened up and are in
regular operation there. Two thou
sand camels are in use daily. It is not
necessary to carry any food for thest
animals, as they ore able to subsist on
the coarse grass and shrubs where
horses or bullocks would starve.
Statistics concerning the failures of
farmers in the first six months of 1893
throw bright lights on the present de
pression of agriculture in England.
From last January 1 to last July 1 the
number of failures among farmers has
been forty per cent, larger than in the
corresponding months of last year. In
England and Wales more than 16,000
persons engaged in agriculture are Ji
ving in sheds, barns, tents, vans and in
the open fields. Thousands of unem
ployed agricultural laborers are hover
ing on tho outskirts of London. In
the same volume of statistics 52,484
persons are reported to be living now
on coasting merchant vessels and in
land barges.
Evidence of the most direct variety
places the blame for the destruction of
the British bottle ship Victoria on the
Admiral who went down with his ship,
states the Washington Star. All the
witnesses who testified before the
court-martial at Valettu agree on that
and every other material point and
two of tho officers heard Sir George
Tryon confess the responsibility. In
all great catastrophies there is gener
ally an effort made to place the burden
on a corpse, and when Admiral Tryon
was first declared guilty many people
imagined that the accusation was due
almost entirely to the fact that he was
dead and could not, therefore, defend
himself, but it is now certain that he
blundered and did so with persistent e
that brooked no interference.
It is satisfactory to the Scientific
American to learn that the gentlemen
who have urged the Now York botani
cal garden project are nearly now in a
condition financially able to begin ac
tual preliminary work near the Bronx
Biver. At least the sum of #215,000
lias been received. There are several
large subscriptions yet expected from
wealthy citizens, an 1 when these are
received it is proiable tho general
public will be asked to contribute.
There will be no pains or expense spared
to make the garden forthy of the State
and of the Nation. Kew Garden is tho
model which the fat-seeing men who
have undertaken th< charge of this en
terprise have in vfcw, and there Is
every reason to belfve that their of
forts will be crowne) with success.
The silver producing States number
a population but little more than one
per cent, the total of tbo United
States.
A new order of thing's has lately
come about in Siam, and the young
men are getting a great and unusuul
share in the government of tho conn
try. From the King downward there
is scarcely a single minister who is
above the age of forty, and many ure
much younger.
The pure Arab horse is now being
largely used in England to invigorate
the race horse, the hunter and tho
carriage horse. He is also used for
the production of the best class of polo
ponies by being matched with small
Exmoor and Welsh mares. In thoso
districts where he is obtainable he is
in great demand by the breeders.
Not the least interesting portion of
the newspapers of New York, to the
San Francisco Argonaut, is that which
describes the efforts of the benevolent
to better the condition of the women
and children of the poor. In New
York, before there were any such ex
cursions, the mortality among the
children of the working-class was
enormous. It has been greatly re
duced since they came into vt^ue.
Tho New York News thinks it is
worthy of more than passing notice
when the speed record of the bicycle
reaches the astonishing pace of over
428 miles in twenty-four hours. This
performance, achieved in London, sur
passes the distance covered in the first
six days go-as-you-please pedestrian
race in New York City. The simple
two-wheel contrivance has thus en
abled man to travel as far in a day as
his legs alone would take him in a
week.
When Buffalo Bill's Indians get
through their work, in Chicago in the
afternoon, they like nothing better
than to repair to a merry-go-round
near the camp and revolve to tho music
of a bad hand-organ. The passer-by
stops to see the show, for the bucks
and squaws are in their full panopy of
feathers and paint. Most people would
get enough fun V>y riding Horse One k
three or four hours every day without
wanting to ride on wooden horses
afterward; but, then, you see, real
horses have no hand-organ attach
ments.
In other days the great area called
Okefonokee Swamp in Southern
Georgia was looked upon as utterly
irreclaimable and worthless. It was
lately sold by the State for sixteen
cents per acre and an enterprising
company of lumbermen has penetrated
the supposed swamp and found it to be
a small inland sea with rich islands. It
is strange, muses the New York News,
that this mystery was not developed
long ago. Many a time the old wild
cat banking system was satirized by
bogus issues of the "Bank of Oke
fonokee."
Doctor Edward Everett Hale has not
much patience with the idea that a
clergyman must work six days over a
sermon. He says: "A sermon con
sists of about 2500 words. I take a
cup of coffee before breakfast and
write about six pages —that is, 650
words. In the morning I dictate to
my amanuensis 1500 words. lam in
tensely interested in the subject, and
this takes only a quarter of on hour.
In the afternoon I look it over and add
500 or 600 words, and the sermon is
done. In all, I haven't put my hand
for over two hours to paper."
Says the Chicngo Herald: "Secre
tary of State Walter Q. Gresham, will
go down to history as the first member
of the Cabinet who became acting
President in consequence of the ina
bility of both the President and Vice-
President. On the same day in July
President Cleveland and Vice-Presi
dent Stevenson were both out of the
country. Mr. Clovelond was on board
the«yacht Oneida, sailing out to lind
deep sea fishing off the coast of Massa
chusetts. Mr. Stevenson was on the
steamer Corona, taking a Pacific
Ocean voyage from San Diego to San
ta Barbara, Cal. Both were more
than three marine leaguos, or say, ten
and a half miles, from shore, which is
the limit of the jurisdiction of the
United States. It cannot be said they
were the same as on United States soil,
being on United States vessels and un
der the United States Hag; for, if be
ing on such a craft was the same as being
on the land, they might have sailed
around the world, claiming to be all
the time in tho United States. Per
haps Mr. Gresham did not assume the
duties of acting President, but that lie
was the legal acting President while
Mr. Cleveland and Mr Stevenson !iot)<
were ten mid a half miles from short;
does not admit of u doubt."
LAPORTE, PA., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1893.
PATIENCE.
Bo patient! Easy words to speak
While plenty fills the cup of life,
While health brings roses to tho cheek,
And far removed are enre and strife.
Falling so glibly from the tonguo
Of those—l often think of this—
Whom suffering has never wrung,
Who scarcely know what patience is. ~
Be patient! when tho sufTrer lies
Prostrate beneath some fell disease,
And longs, through torturing agonies,
Only for one short hour of oase.
Be patient! when the weary brain
Is racked with thought and anxious caro,
And troubles in an endless train
Seem almost more than it can bear.
To feel the torture of delay
The agony of hope deferred ;
To labor still from day today,
The prize unwon, the prayer unheard.
And still to hope, and strive, and wait
The due reward of fortune's kiss ;
This is t., almost conquer fnte,
This is to learn what patience is.
Despair not ' though the clouds are dar'j,
And storm and danger veil the sky ;
bet fate and courage guide thy bark.
The storm will pass, the port is nigh.
Be patient! and thetido will turn,
Shadows will fade before the sun ,
These are the hopes that live and burn
To light us till our work is done.
—All the Year Round.
AUNT SUSAN'S QUILT.
IHf F Jimmy and his
iMi bride ain't
H ' > ' t>aßeL ' with
1/ know what would
1/ m please 'em," said
B with arms nkiin
i I ,in d head
,;v , X 112/j ►!I twisted to one
iMI side, as she
stepped back and
gazed witli admiration at the object
spread out on tho bed. It was a care
fully-pieced quilt, of a somewhat in
tricate pattern.
"Jimmy's bride can't help being
tickled with that," said Mrs. Dake, as
she smoothed out u fold; "and if she
knows anything about nice quiting,
she'll see that wn'u't quilted in a day.
Well, I guess not! I quilted ev'ry last
stitch of it myself, and there's a good
half-day's work iu some of them blocks
with the feather and herrin' bone pat
terns and the shell border all 'round
the aidge. I had that quilt in the
frames five weeks and three days, and
I put, all the time 1 could get on it, and
there ain't no slack work, tired as I
did get of seeing it 'round."
She smoothed out another crease.
"Leinmesee," she went on. "There's
2347 pieces in the quilt, and a good
many of 'em ur<' pieces of' Jimmy's lit
tle baby dresses. That'll please his
wife, I jest know. Here's a block made
of calico like a little pink dress he had
when his ma first put him into short
dresses. I remember it was made
with a low neck and short sleeves, like
they made baby dresses in them days,
and his little shoulders and arms was
almost as pink as the dress.
"And here's pieces like a little double
gown he had 'fore he went into short
dresses. And this piece of blue cham
bery is like a little sunbonnet he had,
all lined with fine white jaconet. And
here is a piece of line muslin with a
little jjink sprig in it like the first short
dress Jimmy ever had. He did look
so eunnin'in it, with the sleeves looped
back, and a tumble-curl on the top of
his head!
"I'll show his wife-to-be all these
pieces, and if she ain't tickled with the
quilt, she'll be a queer one."
Then Mrs. Pake went over to an
old-fashioned mahogany bureau with
brass knobs, and took from tho upper
drawer a large, square cream-tinted
envelope, out of which she carefully
drew the "invite" to Jimmy's wed
ding.
"Mr. and Mrs. William P. Holbrook
invite you to be present at tho mar
riage of their daughter Helen and
Jamea Barclay Larkin, Wednesday
evening, September 14."
Then followed the address of the
bride's parents, in a city 400 miles
from Mrs. Dake's home.
"But I'm goin'!" she said gleefully,
as she slipped the invitation back into
its envelope. "I'd go if it was twice
as far. I ain't seen Jimmy for near on
to five years, and he always seemed
like my own boy to mo 'cause I never
had none o' ray own, and I helped to
bring him up after his own ma died,
when he wa'n't but just in his first little
trousies."
"I aint been so far from home in
muny a long year, and I reckoned my
travelin' days was done, but I've got
togo and see Jimmy married. I must
see Elviry Hodge right away about
turning and making over my black
silk, and I must see Samantlia Bosc
about a new cap. I guess I'll have to
have something kind o' smart for a
city weddin', where they'll all be fini
fied up so. I don't want Jimmy to bo
ashamed of his old aunty ; but lawsy
me ! Jimmy wouldn't be ashamed of
me if I went in my plain calico house
dress. He wa'n't raised to set clothes
abo\o his relations, and he ain't got
nothing to be 'shamed of in any of his
folks."
Then Jimmy's aunt, her face aglow
with loving thoughts of seeing Jimmy
again, folded up tho quilt carofully in
an old sheet, and laid it away in a
lower drawtr-of tho buiyau, saying:
"I s'poso they'll have lots of nice
presents, but I'll warrant you they
won't have one that represents as much
lovin' labor a ; that quilt. I had to
cry a little when I quilted them blocks
with the pieces of his baby dresses in
'em. His wife ought to think the
world and all of tile quilt. 1 hope to
the land she won't goto using it com
mon. "
Mrs. Dake, who was a widow and
childless, lived in u small, remote
country town in which her nephew,
James Larkin, had been born, and
from which he had gone to become a
successful young lawyer in the city.
Ho had not been back to the home of
his childhood for five years. As his
Aunt Susan sad, ho "wa'u't n > hand
to write letters," but ho often sent
brief notes and little gifts to his aunt
to assure her of his affection and
gratitude.
He had not announced his engage
ment to her, and tho invitation to his
wedding was ono of tho greatest sur
prises of Mrs. Dake's uneventful life.
"He jest wanted to give his- old
aunty a big s'prise," she said to Elvira
Hodge, the village seamstress, when
she came to "fix over" Aunt Susan's
black silk. "I couldn't believe my
own eyes at first. It don't seem no
longer than yesterday that Jimmy was
runnin' 'round here in pinafores ; and
to think of him bein' married—l de
clare I can't git over it!
"But I'll give him a s'prise, too. I
don't intend to givo him a hint that
I'm comin' to his weddin', and if he
won't bo took back when he sees me
marchin' in on him, my name ain't
Susan Elizabeth Dake! Don't you
reckon his wife'll bo tickled with that
quilt, Elviry?"
"They'd ought to be, that's sure,"
said Elvira.
"I think it's a kind of special Provi
dence that I putin the frames when I
did. I didn't cal'late on quiltin' it
until next' winter, but I had a kind of
feelin' that I'd better do it when I did,
and now it's turned out that there was
a good reason why I should quilt it
then."
There was quite a company of Aunt
Susan's friends at tho little station to
see her off on-the morning she started.
There was unusual color in her cheeks
and unwonted sparklo in her eyes.
She bade each of her friends good-bye
two or threo times, and promised to
take good care of herself. Some of
them sho promised a crumb of Jimmy's
wedding cake, and a full account of
the wedding festivities.
"An' if you could git me a scrap of
tho bride's weddin' dress an' of any of
her other dresses for my silk quilt,
Susan, I'd be so pleased with 'em!"
said old Mrs. Gray.
"I will if I can, Nauey," said Aunt
Susan. "There's the train comin'!
I'm so glad I could get my trunk
checked clean through ! I'd bein a
nice fix if that trunk should get lost
with Jimmy's quilt and my black silk
in it! Where's my lunch basket? Oh,
yoh're goin' to carry it away ou the
train for me, are, vou, Hiram Drew?
I'm 'bleegert to yofit but mind you git
oil" the train 'fore it starts. Good-bye,
Nauey ; good-bye all!"
In a moment the train was on its
way, Aunt Susan's handkerchief flut
tered from one if car windows as long
as the train was within sight of the lit
tle station.
All tho people in tho car noticed tho
happy old lady in her queer, old fash
ioned garb. Some had not seen for
many years a shawl like the one she
wore, with its fringe a foot long and
silk embroidery in tho corners; but
nothing was coarse or amiss in her
dress, and there was a quaintness and
charm about her that attracted the
sympathy of all the passengers.
She had not gone twenty-five miles
before she was telling some of them
nearest her all about Jimmy and Jim
my's quilt, and the wedding to take
place on the coming Wednesday.
She was delighted to find that a mid
dle aged, kindly looking woman who
was one of the passengers lived in the
city in which young Mr. Larkin lived,
and could easily show her his board
ing house.
"I'm so much obleeged to you !"said
Aunt Susan. "I've been dreadful nerv
ous 'bout trying to find the house my
self. I hated to write to him to meet
me, 'cause it'd take off tho best part of
the s'prise. I jest want to walk right
in on him."
That was just what she had the
pleasure of doing the next afternoon.
James Larkin was taking his wed
ding suit from the box in which it had
been sent home, when there came a
knock at the door of his room.
Aunt Susan was trembling with ex
citement when her nephew opened the
door.
"Why, Aunt Susan!" he cried, and
then he took her into his arms and
kissed her on both cheeks.
There was no lack of tenderness in
her nephew's greeting, yet the eliajige
in him was painful to her. He was a
beardless, boyish-looking young man
when she had seen liim last. Now he
was a tall, broad-shouldered, full
bearded man with a way that made it
a little hard for her to call him
"Jimmy." Ho did not say so, but
she felt that he would rather have her
call him "James;" and that Bounded
so cold and formal to her.
Ho now had tho graces of a city
bred young man. She found it hard
to accommodate herself to them, and
to tho usages of the fashionable board
ing-house in which her prosperous
young nephew lived.
He might, perhaps, have wished that
Elvira Hodge had made his aunt's
garments more stylish when he took
her down to dinner, but lie was in no
sense ashamed of her. When they
were going down stairs with her hand
timidly resting on his arm, ho made
her very happy by looking down into
lir r face and saying tenderly and heart
ily, "I am BO glad you came Aunt
Susan."
"I thought you would be," she said,
patting his arm affectionately. "You
know you're the only boy I ever had."
"And you were always the beet of
mothers to me."
Hut when she was alone in her room
she wondered if it hail been wise for
her to come after all. She did not
doubt now that James was genuinely
happy to see her, but she had discov
ered that his betrothe 1 was the daugh-
ter of a rich man, and tbut the wed
ding was to be an elegant affair. Annt
Susan feared she would bo out of
place—that she might in her inno
cence do or say something to givo
James and his bride cause to bo
ashame3 of her.
The wedding was to take place the
next evening, and there would be no
opportunity for her to meet the bride
or her family until then. All was so
now and strange to her!
She had expected to "take right
hold" and help Mrs. Holbrook with the
wedding dinner, even if she did "keep
a girl." There was a big, new kitchen
apron in her trunk, brought with Aunt
Susan to be worn while she was "mak
ing herself useful in Mrs. Holbrook's
kitchen." It disappointed her to be
told by her nephew that her services
would not be required, and that a
caterer would provide the supper.
She did not know what a caterer
was, and felt confused and uneasy, and
went to sleep half wishing herself
home.
When, the next evening, she found
herself in the beautiful house of Mr.
Holbrook, surrounded by tinely
dressed ladies and gentlemen who
looked curiously at the odd-looking
little old woman in tho qneerly-mado
and old-fashioned black silk, she heart
ily wished that she had not come.
Mr. and Mrs. Holbrook wero as at
tentive to her as they could be with a
house full of guests ; but Aunt Susan
soon found it convenient to slip off
into a corner, where she hid like the
little country mouse she wfts.
But slio was glad, aftor all, that sho
had como when James, looking so tall
and happy and handsome, came into
the groat parlors with his bride on his
arm in her trailing, white satin dress
and long veil. Aunt Susan was so com
pletely overawed by this magnificence
that, instead of going forward with the
others to offer her congratulations, she
slipped off tip-stairs to the room in
which she had taken off her bonnet and
shawl. In it was her wedding gift to
Jimmy—the quilt that had but yester
day seemed to her as beautiful and ap
propriate a gift as she could bestow
upon him
Across the hall wa» the open door of
a room almost filled with shining silver
and glittering glass, with pictures, and
rare ornaments, and beautiful books,
gifts to James and his bride.
Aunt Susan felt that her own offer
ing, although it was tho gift of her own
labor and love, would be out of place.
It might offend her nephew and his
bride to see it there. Some one might
laugh and jeer at it, and she could not
boar to think of that It seemed so
poor and triflimr, now; she could not
bear to think of allowing Jimmy and
his wife to know that she had brought
them such a gift.
Sho turned back a corner of tho
quilt, and looked at a piece of the pink
and white muslin of which one of
Jimmy's first garments have been
made. A flood of tender memories
filled her heart, and she buried her
face in her gift and cried as she had
not cried for years.
Tli ere she sat for a long time, pay
ing no heed to the noise and merri
ment downstairs. Presently she heard
a rustle of silk and satin in the hall,
and a low murmur of voices. In a
moment a pair of soft arms were
around her neck, and a girlish voice
was saying:
"I am so glad that we have found
you at last! We have been looking
everywhere for you!"
When Aunt Susan looked up she
found the bride kneeling by" her side,
while James was bending low over
her.
"You haven't been up here all this
time, have you?" he said. "We have
wondered where you were. Helen was
so anxious to see you."
"Of course I was," said the bride.
"There is no one here I am so glad to
see. James lias told me all about you,
and it was so good of you to come so
far to see lis married. You must kiss
us both and wish us joy, won't you?"
"If you'll let me," said Aunt Susan,
with the tears still in her eyes.
"Let you !" said James. "We should
think it very strange if you didn't.
What have you here? It looks like one
of tho quilts you used to make. It is
a quilt, isn't it?"
Aunt Susan tried to conceal the quilt,
but James took it from her and un
folded it. Suddenly ho said :
"Why, Aunt Susan, didn't you bring
this for a wedding present?"
"Well, I—l—did think I'd give it to
your wife, James," said Aunt Susan,
soberly. "I thought that—well—well,
you see, I mado it ev'ry stitch myself
and—and—there's lots of pieces in it
from the first clothes you ever had,
and—l thought maybe she'd like it be
cause I did it ev'ry stitch myself,and—"
"Like it?" cried Helen. "I shall
value it above any gift I liavo had! It
is beautiful—l never saw such exquis
ite needlework ! What weeks of labor
it must have cost you. lam so proud
of it!"
"She said them very words," said
Aunt Susan to half a dozen of her de
lighted friends who came to see her
the day she reached home. "Sho was
so tickled over tho quilt. Sho fairly
cried when I showed her the blocks
made out of pieces of Jimmy's things.
"-lie said she'd think the world and
all of it. She and Jimmy had togo
off their weddin' tower in about an
hour, and 1 expected to come on home
that night; but Mr. and Mrs. Hol
brook wouldn't hear to it.
"Xlioy made me stay there a whole
week, and they treated me as if I was
ono of the greatest ladies in the land.
They took me to ride ev'ry day, and
they never seemed to mind a bit
about my old-fashioned waj's and
clothes.
"I had a beautiful time; and the
best part of it is that Jimmy and his
wife are coming to mako me a visit on
their way home from their tower next
week. You never see such a splendid
young woman as she is!"
Terms—Bl.oo in Advance; 51.25 after Three Months.
TRAPPING A LIVE TIUEB.
HOW JUNO, THE LARGEST ONE IN
THIS COUNTHT. WAS CAUGHT.
The Man-Rating Unite was Induced
to .lump Into a llig Pit—Secured
After a Hard Fight.
¥ANY men have been around
the world four or five times,
but a man who has made
the circle twenty-one times
is an exception. This record-breaking
globe-trotter, says the New York
World, is Mr. J. B. Gaylord, of Inde
pendence, lowa, Mr. Gaylord is known
to all the circus people of this coun
try as having owned shows of his own
years ago, and having been foreign
agent for P. T. Barnum for a number
of years. He has amassed a fortune in
bringing wild animals from their
native jungles to the United States.
He has captured and handled more
tigers, lions and elephants than any
other may alive in this country.
A year or so ago he severed his con
nection with the Barnum show, and is
now about to make another animal
collecting tour of the world for a new
zoological garden about to be opened
in a Western city.
Mr. Gaylord looks upon the captur
ing of tigers and lions as a matter of
ordinary interest. He says the work
of trapping wild animals is done so
systematically now that there is no
more danger attending it than catch
ing a tame pet. -This is how he de
scribed >the way the largest tigor ever
brought to this country, Juno, now
being trained at the Barnum head
quarters in Bridgeport, was captured :
"First we located her drinking
place. Then we set a force of 150
natives to digging a hole sixteen feet
square at the top, twenty feet deep
and twenty-five feet square at the
bottom, and carried the fresh earth a
quarter of a mile off in the baskets.
This was necessary, for if we had left
any fresh soil about the boast would
scent it and change her course ingoing
to drink. Long before nightfall our
trap was ready for tho tiger. The
surface of the ditch was covered over
with light bamboos very carefully.
Then dead leaves and foliage were
spread about until there was no sign
that there was an excavation anywhere
in sight. This last work was done
with extraordinary precaution, for if
we had left any trace of our prepara
tions our work would all have gone
for naught- Now, in all this work
there was absolutely no excitement or
thrilling escapes in heating off other
animals. We knew we were laying a
Uup fui iliu locgtAi ttjau-cotor ever
seen on the Malay peninsula, but what
of it ?"
"Well, after we had covered the
hole carefully, we took out our young
lamb and placed him in a specially
prepared jacket of straps and liung
him in gypsy-kettle fashion directly
over the centre of the big hole that
had sloping sides.
"Now, I suppose you think the tiger
just walks into that hole. Not at all.
He is attracted by the lamb's bleating,
and prepares for his meal. He reaches
the trap, but instead of walking right
up and putting up his paw to seize the
lamb, he circles round and round at a
distance. He is wary. But the de
siro for a meal gets the best of him,
and he makes a leap for the lamb. He
has gauged the distance so well he
lands right over the center of the pit.
Down he goes with a roar—a roar of
rage and fear, for he has found him
self in a bad hole at last.
"Juno made a great light. It was
more than four hours before she was
exhausted, as all we had to do was to
wait until she had completely tired
herself out by attempting to leap out
of the pit. Then we brought up the
tiger cage, a ten-foot square bamboo
affair, with one side open. The bars
of bamboo were a few inches apart,
and about four inches thick. These
bars were securely fastened by smaller
bamboo and ropes of wiry grass. Our
Hock of natives grasped the cage on
all sides and let it down quickly on tho
exhausted beast below. As the cage
was let down over the tiger a score of
the natives quickly slid down on top
of it. Juno was too exhausted to make
another struggle, and she lay quietly
in the cage.
"We took a number of prepared
bamboo poles about an inch thick and
pointed at one end. They bend but
do not break, and are very strong,
The men on top of the cage in tho ti
ger pit poked these pieces of bamboo
under cage and tiger—an easy matter,
as the soil was very soft. They fast
ened them lengthwise and crosswise a
great many times until the tiger was
in a cage so strong that if she had the
strength of a dozen animals she could
not get out.
"Ropes 'of bamboo were put dowu
and cage and tiger were lifted to the
surface and placed on a litter of poles.
A score of natives picked up cage and
tiger and trotted off to the seaport
town.
"There are men who make a splen
did living out of trapping tigers and
lions. The king of them all is a man
who lives at Padang, one of the Malay
Island towns. For three generations
the relatives of this man, who is
known as Siueen. have been tiger and
lion-killers. They have killed and
captured more, lions and tigers than
any other known family, and Siueen
has broken the record, too. He is nl
most an object of worship at Padang.
He has been m the business all his life
and kills or captures about 100 tigers
every year. The Government pays
him fifty dollars for the head of a ti
ger, and he gets a good sum besides
for all he captures. He is really a
splendid specimen physically for his
height, five feet four inches. He is
like a block of iron, his muscular
power is so great. Sineen has made a
fortune out of tiger-hunting and
dresses in eilkcu garments.
NO. 48.
THE SECRET OF HAPPINESS.
Aro you almost disgusted
With life, little man? '* - ..
I will tell you n wonderful trick
That will bring yon contentment
If anything can— i
Do something for somebody, quick :
Do something for somebody, quick'
Are you awful tired
With pluy, little girl?
Weary, discouraged, and sick?
I'll tell you the loveliest
Game in the world—
Do something fir somebody, quick ;
Do something for somebody, quick ! """
Though it rains like the rain
Of the flood, little man,
And the clouds are forbidding and thick.
You can make the sun shine
In your soul, little man—
Do something for somebody, quick ;
Do something for somebody, quick !
Though the skies are like brass
Overhead, little girl.
And the walk like a well-heated brick ;
And all earthly affairs
In a terrible whirl?
Do something for somebody, quick ,
Do something for somobody, quick !
- Christian Herald.
HUMOIt OF THE DAY.
Be sure you're right, then agree with
your wife.—Reading Times.
It is generally a great blow to a cat
die to have its light put out.—Roch
ester Democrat.
You never see an old man who in
serts that he understands woman
—Milwaukee Journal.
A dumh man frequently makes his
presence in a community known by his
calling.—Boston Courier.
Almost any employe can tell you that
some one is liable to be fired when the
boss gets hot.—Troy Press.
Maude—"Did he marry her for her
money?" Leila--"No ; for her father's."
—Kate Field's Washington.
Hattio—"See Cbollie Softed oVer
there, buried in thought." Hannah—
"Whose?"—Detroit Free Press.
All the world may love a lover, but
before an average jury the maid's
chances are as ten to one.—Life.
When a man is about to fail he
usually tries to work all of his frienda
into the trouble.—Atchison Globe.
Speaking of hollow mockery, doesn't
a hungry parrot come very near an
swering that description ? Buffalo
Courier.
Many may understand woman, but
it generally puzzles her horse to tell
wliat olic i« driving in.—
Courier.
Our idea of a Christian is a man who
doesn't laugh when it rains on a picnic
party to which he was not invited.—
Athison Globe.
Mrs. Banks—"l do hate to discharge
my servant." Mrs. Rivers— "I wish
you had mine. You'd enjoy it."—
Brooklyn Life.
Tom—"How do you know she was
out when you called?'' Jack—"l heard
her ask the girl to tell me she was."—
New York Times.
Leave an order for work with a man
and tell him that you are in no par
ticular hurry and he will do it that
day.—Atchison Globe.
No matter how hopeless the future
may be to other men, the good mathe
matician always has something to
count on.—Troy Press.
Ragson—"How are you, old fellow!
What are you working at now?" Old
iron (tired and cross) "My vaca
tion."—Chicago Tribune.
Miss Prim is of the opinion that no
lady who had any claim to modesty
would regard undressed food as a deli
cacy.—Boston Transcript.
"Is your friend Wilkins the sort of
a man who would borrow a dollar from
you and never pay it back?" "Nixie!
Not from me."—Detroit Tribune.
Mrs. Van Twiller (who mistakes Doc
tor Jovial for a physician)—" Anil
where do you practice, Doctor?" The
Rov. Doctor Jovial— "Ah, madam, I
do not practice; I only preach."—
Harlem Life.
Young Wife—"Now, sir. I've given
you half my picnic pies, and you
promised to work for them—" Trump
—"Bless your sweet eyes, mum, 1
did—as I wuz catin'of 'em."—Cleve
land Plain Dealer.
Jess (in restaurant) "l'm hungry
enough to eat a horse and chase tho
rider." Bess "What are you going
to order?" Jess—"Waiter, bring me
three cream puffs and uoup of cocoa. '"
—New York Times.
She---"I never saw such a man ! He
never has any money but he fritters it
away." He—"Aren't you then afraid
of marrying him?" She—"Oh, dear,
no. Aft r he has married me he'll
never have any money. "—Boston
Transcript.
"You see that jvr-ig couple in front
of us? Well, they're jus* married."
"How do you know?" "Because he
treads so carelessly on the skirt of her
dress." "But that is no sign." "Oh,
yes, it is; he'll be much more careful
is soou I.K he ilnd.a out what her dresses
cost.Fliegende Bluetter.
Rain, But N'o Clouds.
A curious natural phenomenon is re
ported from the neighborhood of Pitts
burg. It was a bright clear day in
Pleasant valley and the entire neigh
borhood, when suddenly a heavy rain
began to fall, without the slightest
warning, and a den-' black cloud ap
peared over thy valley. For forty-five
minutes the rain fell in torrents, swell
ing the little stream that flow t through
the valley into a raging tcureut, which
inundated houses, swept away several
bridges and nearly drowned several
people. Two miles away there was no
rain at all and no signs of a storm.
Picayune.