It is astonishing bow eager the na
tions of continental Europe are to
prove thoir affection for dear America.
The suddenness of their conversion is
almost suspicious.
It costs one student's parents near
ly S3OOO a year to give him an educa
tion at Yale. Another managed to
'.like the same course on $91.25 a
year., It is not hard to guess the fin
ish of their life's race.
When Rear Admiral Dewey has re
ceived all the presentation swords
ivhich admiring Americans are talk
ing about giving him he will likely
Dave enough to furnish plowshares for
naif the farmers in Vermont needing
thani.
The umpire in the boundary dispute
between Great Britain and Venezuela
Das received twenty-two
Volumes. They are the first instalment
3f testimony on the British side.
The: e will be much more on that side,
»nd 1:0 one dares guess how much on
;he o her. Assuredly, international
arbitration is no sinecure.
It is said, for the first time in the
?xpe:ience of an army in actual ser
vice, the commanding officers of the
United States troops will have com
plete outfits for maintaining tele
graphic communications with the va
'ions brigades and regiments that go
to make the divisions and corps of the
limy. General Greely also has
B.juip.jed and has ready for service
bis field telegraph outfit.
It is the custom in Denmark not
only to send city children into the
jouutry, but country children to the
city. Commenting on this, a writer
in the Boston Transcript says: The
country children have their taste of a
pleasure and benefit derived from
visits to the city, where new and
strange interests appeal strongly to
the wonder-loving mind of the child
to whom city sights and sounds and
scenes are unfamiliar. The child of
the rural districts is as susceptible to
the hjalthy influence of change as is
his city cousin, and well might Den
mark's custom of sending country
children to the city be adopted in the
land where her "country week' sug
gestions have grown and flourished
with each succeeding summer. A
"city week' might with profit be es
tablished, which in days to come would
rival even her sister charity in popu
larity and success.
Age does not alwaj-s mean decrepi
tude,observes the New York Commer
cial Advertiser. Admiral Dewey is
sixty-one, General Merritt is sixty,
and is chosen as the smartest general
in the service for the most arduous
and remote command. Farragut com
manded a fleet for the first time at
sixty-one. The fact is that age is
only weak when vigor declines, and
that an old man who has preserved
his vigor unimpaired is the strongest j
man of all. When a man reaches sixty !
or seventy and still retains his vitali
ty, energy and fire undiminished,
young men need to look out for him.
When he is their equal in activity and
vim, and has in addition the craft and
cnnuing of sixty years' experience he ,
is formidable, and likely to be as dar- j
lug and bold as if he were thirty. A j
man who has these qualifications
when he is on the stage in any walk
of life is pretty sure to be its foremost
figure. A country is safe when such
men camnianTTts fleets and arm:e3.
The conclusion arrived at by Dr.
See of the Lowell Observatory, in
discussing the question as to whether
there ave other habitable worlds
than our own, differs from that of
Garrett P. Serviss, says the New York
Sun. In his account of his most re
cent observations, the fact is stated
that there were disclosed stars more
difficult than any which astronomers
had seen before—amongthese obscure
objects being about half a dozen of a
truly wonderful character, in that
they seem to be dark, almost black,in
color, and apparently shining by a dull,
reflected light, and, as it is unlikely
they are self luminous, it may be said
that, if they should turn out dark
bodies in fact, shining only by the
reflected lightof thestars around which
ilisy revolve, they would be the first
use of planets,or dark bodies, noticed
rnong the fixed stars. Mr. Serviss
is not of the opinion, though Profes
sor See appears to hold it, that there
are no planetary bodies in the uni
verse, revolving around other sans
than ours; and he argues that these
obscure objects, named by Professor
See, are visible proves that they are
enormously larger than Jupiter, and,
though it is by no means certain that
the latter is a habitable planet, it is
quite certain, unless terrestrial analo
gies are abandoned altogether, that
these enormously larger bodies car.*
ot be habitable.
| Metal-working, shoe-making, eleo
trical and other machinery exported
from this country during March, 189$
had a value of more than ten per cent;
in excess of similar exports last yea)
at the same time.
An American firm, Rnssell & Stur*
gis, opened the Philippines to foreigt
, trade over sixty years ago, and ai
| American admiral has now releasee
the commerce of those islands fron
the throttling grasp of Spain.
The total output of coal in tin
United States for 1897 was 198,250,00(
short tons, the largest ever known.
Its average value was a fraction lesi
than $1 per ton, a slight decrease a!
compared with the previous year.
When Americans beg for a private'f
place in the army, an<l. for an oppor
tunity to face almost certain death in
the navy, we have little fear from ah
Europe. We have an abundance ol
Hobsons, and we may have man;
Deweys.
The Canadians had practically de
termined to put an export duty or
nickel, of which metal they are the
largest producers in the world, wher
Mr. Chamberlain made his famous
jpeech about an Anglo-Saxon alliance.
Now they are afraid to do so,and wish
fc-iat Mr. Chamberlain had waited a
few weeks longer. The United State!
is a great buyer of nickel, and cat
profit by this happy chance.
Russia is constructing the largest
ind most expensive railroad in tli6
ivorld. It is complete now from St.
Petersburg to Nijni-Udinsk, a dis
tance of 3000 miles, and is to bt
pushed forward to Vladivostock, whicl:
is 5912 miles from St. Petersburg.
This railroad will open up to trade a ter
ritory as large as the tvlioleof Europe,
and will increase very greatly the com
mercial and political power of Russia.
Though this project was discussed as
far back as 1851, it was not actually
undertaken until 1890.
A woiulerfnl era of prosperity
seems to have opened for the Ameri
can manufacturer. The orders foi
battleships given us by Russia, in ad
dition to those from China and Japan,
the demand for American rails and
locomotives from China, Australia
and South Africa, the increased popu
larity of the American bicycle, sewing
machine, knitting machine.agricultur
al implements, printing presses and
linotypes, in every civilized laud, are
but a few of the causes, the effects of
which are to be enlarged industries
and a greatly augmented foreign com
merce.
From the ships which carried the
naval heroe.3 of the past to the battle
ships of today is a long cruise. The
old ships had sails and a greater or
less number of simple smooth-bore
guns. The modern battleship has
more than a hundred distinct and sep
arate engines, and guns of complicated,
delicate mechauism. No man is per
fectly qualified to command a modern
warship who does not thoroughly com
prehend all the minute details of the
complicated instrument placed in his
charge. The command of a fleet oi
these ponderous war-engines is a men
tal burden of no small magnitude;
and, other things being equal, that
man is best fitted to such command
whose mentality is strong enough to
enable him easily to grasp all the mi
nute details making tip his force.
Last year, says the Railway Age,the
railways of the United States carried
over 13,000,000,000 passengers one
mile. They also carried 95,000,000,-
000 tons of freight one mile. The
total amount putin dividends on
?tock was 887,633,371 —call it SBB,-
000,000. Of the total earnings of the
railways about seventy per cent, came
from freight service aud thirty per
lent, from passenger service. Let us
assume then, that of the $88,000,000
paid in dividends, seventy per cent,
jr $61,000,000, was profit on freight
service and $26,400,000 was on
passenger service. Let us drop frac
tions and call it $62,000,000 from
ireight and $26,000,000 from pas
lengers. By dividing the passen
ger profit into the number of passen
jeru carried (13,000,000,000) we find
that the railways had to carry a pas
tenger 500 miles in order to earn $1
>f profit, or five . miles to earn one
sent. The average profit, therefore,
was less than two-tenths of one cent
'or carrying a passenger (and his bag
gage) one mile. By dividing the
freight profit into the freight mileage
(95,000,000,000) find that the
tail ways had to carry one ton of freight
1530 miles in order to earn $1 or over
fifteen miles to earn one cent. The
average profit, therefore, was less
than one-fifteenth of a cent for carry
ing a ton of freight (besides loading
it) one mile.
FOOLISH QUESTIONS.
1 saw a sweat young mother with I met a early-beaded boy
Her first-born a* iaer breast; Who h.i l a brindie pup,
"And what's the Mby's name'/" I asked "And what's yourdoggy s name?" I asked,
Of ber so rich'.y blessed. As I held the creature up.
She looked at me with pity, as He gazed at me in wonder, and
Bbe proudly poised her head: He proudly cocked his head:
"We call him Dewey, sir, of course," "I call him Dewey, sir, of course,"
In tender tones she said. He pityingly said.
I met a dainty little girl I stopped beside a rustic stile,
Who led a kitten by a string, And heard a milkmaid sing a song;
And as I stroked her head, I asked: "And what's your bossy's name?" I asked
"What do you call the pretty thing?" The lassie as she came along.
She looked at me with wide blue eyes, She looked at me in mild surprise,
And as she went her way. And as she strode away,
"I call my kitten Dewey, sir," "Why. Dewey is her name, of course,"
I heard her sweetly say. 1 heard the maiden say.
THE RED BOOK. t
BY RAYMOND .TARBF.Rrs.
"Poor dear man!" ejaculated Mrs.
Moneypenny, laying down the news
paper and looking at her small grand
laughter, "I must put him into the
Red Book." And she gave a gentle
iigh as she spoke, for the names in
the Bed Book were already numerous.
"What has he done, granny?"
Doreen Golding dropped the mueh
iated sampler she was working and
pushed back the golden curls that
jrould fall into her eyes. "Has he
killed somebody, or drunk poison, or"
—her blue eyes growing large with
indden interest—"has he been ship
wrecked, and was he starving,and did
ae eat up all the other peoples in the
boat one by one?"
"Doreen," said Mrs. Moneypenny,
leverely, "you are an extremely
aaughty little girl. If you were older
[ should almost think that you bad
been reading my newspapers. Con
tinue your work at once."
"I haven't read any old newspa
pers," answered Doreen in an injured
;one of voice; "you told me yourself,
granny."
"I told youl" The old lady held
np her hands in horror at the very
Idea.
"Yes, you did, granny," persisted
Doreen, standing up, a defiant little
figure; "when yon read anything in
the paper that makes yon feel sorry
you say 'Poor man!' or 'Poor woman!'
»ud then you goon reading and begin
thinking out loud, and yon say,
'Fancy killing bis poor little girl!
Dear, dear! Just a fit of temper; or
starving, dying of thirst; dear me! I
might have done it myself; one ;?ever
knows!' You tell me a b» t about
everything, and I make believe the
rest. When I can't make it all oat I
»sk Sophie. Sophie always tells me
iust what I want to know."
"Doreen! You are a very naughty
little girl indeed!" gasped the old
lady, clutching hold of ber newspaper
with both hands. "Sophie is a very
good girl—she never reads the news
papers."
"Yes, she does, granny," asserted
Doreen,gathering up a colony of dolls,
from the hearthrug as she spoke, "she
loves it as much as you do. I always
tell her when you've read anything
specially dreadful,and she says 'Law,
Miss Doreen! I'll be sure to read it
this very night.' What has the man
done, granny?"
"Nothing that is at all proper to
tell little girls or servants," answered
Mrs. Moneypenny, stiffly. "You are
a very strange child, not at all like
what your dear mother used to be.
Go away and play in the garden,
Doreen."
Doreen hesitated and then obeyed,
determine 1 to find out what the man
in the newspaper had done for Sophie
as soon as possible.
Mrs. Moneypenny lived toward the
close of the nineteenth century,but she
belonged in spirit to the eighteenth.
She wore long silk mittens, a puce
colored silk dress that fell around her
in voluminous folds and a cap with
lace lappets that rested lightly upon
her gray, corkscrew curls. She
washed the china herself after break
fast and tea. She owned a stillroom
and rejoiced in its mysteries. Her ball
and sitting room were scented with
potpourri and her linen press with
lavender. Her bed was warmed every
night with a warming pan, and when
she had a cold she sat with hsr fe t
in hot mustard and water and drank
treacle-posset. Also, she wore go
loshes whenever it was wet and d d
an immense amount of worsted needle
work. Her grandchild was the off
spring of the nineteenth century; so
was Sophie, the maid of all work. Oc
casionally the two centuries disagreed
and met in combat, but, owing per
haps to a certain stateliness in its
representative,the eighteenth century
more often than not drove the nine
teenth off the field.
Mrs. Moneypenny was old-fashioned
enough to believe in prayer. She be
lieved in its efficacy so firmly that her
household believed in it also, which is
saying a good deal. She was as method
ical over her religious duties as she
was in worldly matters. She prayed
whenever she saw a sad sight,beard a
sad story or read of sin, sorrow or
death. Then, if she considered the
case important, she entered it into a
certain red-covered book and spent
the greater part of every Sunday af
ternoon ingoing through its contents,
mentioning each item in turn aud
praying about each with all the fervor
of her warm old heart. Age is some
times crabbed and uulovely. Prayer
kept theenrrentof Mrs.Moneypenny's
life fresh and sweet, and who can tell
how far-reaching may have been the
influence of that book? Several pages
at the eud were left blank so that
Mrs. Moneypenny could record when
ever her prayers brought forth visible
fruit. When such items could be hon
estly entered she was a proud old
lady indeed.
Some weeks previously the loss of
a small china hen caused Mrs. Money
penny great perturbation.
It was a favorite plaything of her
granddaughter's and lived generally
in Doreen's pocket with a string at
tached to its neck. When its small
owner went for a walk the china ben
went out as well and was bumped
along every bit of grass that could be
found; also, to give it a fondness for
water, it was dipped in and out of
every pond and puddle and was, in
fact, such a companion that when one
day the string was found to have lost
its appendage in the course of a long
walk, Doreen was heart-broken and
agitated her old graudmotlier consid
erably.
"You really might put my own dear
Suowflake into your Red Book,
granny," she had sobbed. "You pray
for nasty old bad men and women, and
my china ben never did anything but
get lost. You are a mean old granny,
and I won't love you any more."
As it seemed well-nigh sacrilege to
Mis. Moneypenny to even think of
offering prayers for the recovery of a
child's toy she tried ber best to ex
plain the same to Doreen, who re
fused to listen, refused to stop crying
and gave her view of the case as fol
lows:
"You said, granny—you said I was
to tell God 'bout everything and ask
Him for everything—l think—l think
you are very unkind not to tell Him a
little girl has lost ber dear china ben.
You can pray much better than I can,
'cos you are so old. Why can't you
do what you told me to do, granny?"
The tears and the 1< g o won the
day. With an unspoken prayer that
she might be forgiven, Mrs. Money
penny wrote down in her book: "My
granddaughter, Doreen, has lost a toy
and frets over the loss. Mem
To pray that it may be found and re
stored to her keeping."
Since then nothing more ba.l been
seen or beard of the china hen. Every
Sunday Doreen reminded Mrs.Money
penny that it had not come back, till
the simple-hearted old lady grew anx
ious iest the child's faith should suf
fer and prayed as earnestly for the
restoration of the toy as she did for
the human woes that filled ber book.
She need not have been anxious, how
ever, for Doreen was a trusting little
soul. She was quite content now that
Snowflake was being prayed about
properly and amused herself by imag
ining what sort of adventures the
china hen was enjoying.
When dismissed from ber grand
mother's sitting room Doreen ran off
to a shady corner of the garden over
looking the main road. The main
road was neither very broad nor very
important, for it merely led from the
village of Hurst to the village of
Finch, Mrs. Moneypenny's cottage
standing in rather an isolated position
between the two. Doreen's favorite
seat w«s on the top of the low wall
that bounded the garden, and on the
afternoon in question,after scrambling
aloft, she deposited her disreputable
array of dolls amidst the ivy with va
rious slaps and bumps.
Unconscious that a tramp was
watching from the other side of the
road, Doteen played with her dolls
for several minutes, until a harsh
voice close to her said abruptly,
"You've got a big fain'ly up there, lit
tle missy."
Doreen looked down into the road,
studied the man's villainous face and
tattered clothes a minute in silence.
Then, with a friendliness born from
the security of her positiou above
him, she answered: "Yes, beggar
man, I have a very large family, and
every one of my children is desperate
wicked."
"Wicked, be they?" and the tramp
showed all his toothless gums in a
grin. "I've a little gal at 'ome what
has a fain'ly same as you, missy; but
her fam'ly's powerful good, she alius
tells me."
"Oh," remarked Doreen; then, anx
ious to be polite, she added, "P'raps
your little girl likes good childrens. I
don't. I like them to be wicked; then
I can punish them. They're all being
punished now," waving her hand tow
ard the forlorn group in front of her.
"They've all got their legs where
there's most tickly things, earwigs and
spiders and snails and beetles, and
they are being tickled frightfully —
they are screaming like I scream when
granny combs my hair. It's dread
ful anxious work having childrens to
bring up properly."
"Seems as if I've got somethin' 'ere
as yer might like to play with,missy,"
said the tramp after a moment's pause,
fumbling in a dilapidated pocket. "It
is a pnrty little thing wot I picks up
in a ditch this morning," and he stood
close to the wall and held something
up to Doreen, who took hold of it
rather gingerly.
The next moment she cried: "Why,
it'B my Snowflake! My own dear lit
tle white hen that ran away from me
years and years ago) Did God tell
yon to bring it back to me.beggarman?
I love yon just enormously," and Do
reen beamed down on the tramp, cud
dling her restored treasure close to
her clean white dress, regal .less that
Snowflake was no longer white, but
black, and had lost a wing during her
wanderings.
The tramp scowled. "One good tnrn
'servos another, missy. What time
do you and the servant girl go a-walkin'
on Sundays?"
"We go after dinner when it is fine,
as soon as Hophie has washed np,"
answered Doreen, still gazing in ad
miration at the china hen. When she
looked down into the road again the
tramp had disappeared, and the recto*
of Finch was turning in at the garden
gate.
The next afternoon about 3 o'clock
this same tramp stood listening out
side a half-opened door in the hall at
Holly Lodge, and as he listened the
expression on his face changed strange
ly. Fear was transformed into won
der, wonder into into incredulity, in
credulity into belief, belief into some
emotion impossible to classify. With
a hitch up of his tatters, as if to make
sure that they still clung together, he
suddenly pushed open the door, en
tered the sitting room, set his arms
akimbo, scowled at the old lady who
gazed up at him in wonder from her
knees and said harshly: "What'sthat
yer been a-saying 'bout Sam Blake?
Hurry up, missus "
It was not a dignified position, per
haps, in which to be caught by a bur
glar, but Mrs.Moneypenny maintained
her self-possession, rose from her
knees and faced the intruder boldly,
still holding the red book.
"How dare you enter my house in
this manner?" demanded the old lady
after a slight pause, while she inves
tigated him through her spectacles.
"Yer may thank yer stars, missus,
as yer ain't a deader already," said the
man, roughly, coming close to her;
"but when a chap hears his own name
and facts 'bout his own life,he'd maybe
like to know what it means afore he
sets to work."
"So—you are Sam Blake?" an
swered Mrs. Moneypenny, under
standing as people do sometimes in
sudden emergencies. "You are the
Sam Blake that nearly killed his wife,
that starved his children and broke
into a jeweler's shop 15 years ago. I
know you very well, Sam Blake, for I
have prayed for you and your miser
able family every Sunday afternoon
for 15 years. lam very glad you
heard me, Sam Blake. Now what do
yon want?"
"Wot yer doue it for?" asked Sam
Blake, still scowling.
"Because you were wicked enough
to require a good many prayers, and,
my friend," Mrs. Moneypenny smiled
a quaint, shrewd smile, "unless you
are going to murder me, which would
be but a simple matter, as you see I
am old aud aione in the house, I
shall continue to pray for you."
"You're a game 'un, you are!"
growled Sam Blake, half-approvingly.
"I've a mind to let yer off this time,
blowed if I ain't. Look a-here, mis
sus, if I dou't knock yer over the
head as I had a mind, nor take that
diamond ring o' your'n in charge for
yer, yer must hand over what money
yer has in the 'ouse and give us a feed
afore yer little 'un comes back. Look
spry, old 'un, and maybe us won't
quarrel after all."
Mrs. Moneypenny measured the
man with her eyes, recognized his
strength aud ber weakness, realized
there was nothing to do under the
circumstances but obey, unlocked
ber dispatch box and handed its con
tents to Sam Blake, who was pleasant
ly surprised, the nearness of rent day
not having entered into his calcula
tions,and treated her unwelcome guest
to as good a meal in the kitchen as
the larder could provide.
"Let's have a look at tliat book of
your'n," said Sam Blake, as he made
Mrs. Moneypenny fill up his glass
again with beer.
He studied the neat entries in si
lence and then banged his fist down
on the table with such force that Mrs.
Moneypenny started. "Of all the rum
'nns you're about the rummest!" he
exclaimed. "There, shake hands,
missus —yon needn't be afeared fo:-
your diamond, though it's a mighty
fine 'un, as word was passed down to
me, sure enough. I guess that yer
book 'ull be full afore you goes under,
eb, missus?"
"I am afraid it will, Sam Blake?"
began Mrs. Moneypenny, racking her
brain for a suitable word in season,
but just at that moment a child's
merry laugh sounded in the distance.
Sam Blake shoved half a loaf into his
pocket and made a bolt out of the
kitchen, the door slammed, and Mrs.
Moneypenny was left alone to tidy
her disordered kitchen with hands
that suddenly trembled as she realized
for the first time that the Bed Book
had saved her life, if not her money.
A Brave Revolutionary Woman.
Elizabeth Zane is one of the gentle
women who played a part in one of the
savage fights of 1777. A battle was
in progress at Limestone, Ky., under
the walls of Fort Henry, a large In
dian force being concentrated on the
Saudusky river banks under the lead
ership of the notorious white renegade
aud Tory, Simeon Girty.
The soldiers in the garrison lacked
powder to carry on the fight aud could
spare no man to get it from the pow
der house. Then it was that Eliza
beth Zane, n slight, sleuder girl, boldly
volunteered to bring them powder,
although it was almost certain death
to attempt it.
She carried it in a tablecloth tied
about her w-aist and had made two or
three journeys when her object was
realized by the Indians, who sent a
hail of shot about her. The girl
never faltered and passed into the fort
uninjured. She had saved the day
for the soldiers.—Collier's Weekly.
A SurprUe.
"Young Mr. Dabster says that he
is wedded to his art."
"Indeedl" replied Miss Cayenne.
"I shouldn't have judged by his pic
tures that he was even engaged to it"
Washington Star.
THE LAY OF A LAUGH.
Here I am. perohed at my open casement, .
Enjoy ng the laugh of some unseen miss
That coujn& rippling up from some room la
the basement
Just below this.
Morning, noon and night I can hear her
Babbling away with her ohatter and chaff.
And it seems as if ail creation near her
Was just a-laugh.
Picture her, isn't her face just made for It—
Crinkled and curved for tbe laughing fit?
Could she be solemn, d'ye think, it paid lor
it?
Never a bit.
I con fancy the dimples her cheeks Im
printing,
And see the inouth corners upward run.
I can catch her eyes with the frollo glinting?
Brimful of fun.
She must be pretty to laugh so prettily-
Such a laugh couldn't belong to a frump;
Humorous, too. to see things wittily—
Probably plump.
There, now, she's off again. Peel upon peel
of it,
Clear as a carillon, soft as a bell.
Why, it's infectious! I'm catching the feel
of it!
Chuckling as well.
What! Was I dteaming? That musical mel
ody
Trips up the .scale,arpeggio,
80 like a voice that was hushed—ah, wella
duy—
Long, long ago.
Heigh ho! To think of what little straws
tickle us!
Just a girl's laugh—and my laughing one
lies
Silent, and I—well, now, this is ridiculous—
Tears in my eyes.
—Pall Mall Gazette.
HUMOROUS,
"That fellow called me an ass be*
hind my back." "Did you kick?"
"She has loved him silently for
many years." "Heavens! What won't
a woman's love accomplish.
"Whatdo you call the cat?" "Boom
e aig. We've fired her a dozen times,
but she A) svays comes back."
The Father—What are your pros
pects, young man? The Suitor—A—
er—that's what I'm trying to find
out.
"Old Grabber ought to be satisfied
with the money he has." "He is sat
isfied—so much so that he wants a lot
more of exactly the same kind."
She—Julie and Joe are engaged,
but they have decided to keep their
engagement a secret; Julie told me
so. He—Yes, I know it; Joe told me.
Bertha—Charley says that when we
are married mumma shall stay with us
as long as she lives. Edith—And yet
you persist in believing him a truth
ful man!
"Lester, dear," said Mrs. Giddings,
anxiously, to her husband, "I don't
like that cough of yours." "I'm
sorry," replied Giddings, "but it is
the best I have."
Proud Father—My daughter strikes
Band is reaching for C. Friend—Oh,
but you cau't really complain until
she begins to strike you for Vs and
reacn for Xs.
Jack—l hear that she speaks every
known language. Tom—Must be a
mistake. Last night I asked her to
give me a plain English "yes," and
she said she couldn't.
Little Georgie—Do you folks ever
have family p'rayers before breakfast?
Little Albert—No, we only have pray
ers before we goto bed. We ain't
afraid in the daytime.
Weaver—Poetry is something that
is born iu one; it caunc* be acquired.
The making of poetry is a gift. Bea
ver—So is the disposing of it, so far
as I have had any expenefice.
"I wish you wouldn't be asking me
for money all the time," growled the
husbaud. "I'm not, dear," respond
ed the wife sweetly. "Part of the
time is occupied in spending it."
Kate—They've got just the thing
now that we've been wanting. It is
au automatic cyclometer. Belle—You
don't mean it! Kate—Yes. It goes
fight on scoring miles while you rest.
Jane (readiug)—The wearied senti
nel leaned on his gun and stole a few
moments' sleep. Little Bobbie —I
know where he stole it from. Jane—
Where, Bobbie? Bobbie—From his
nap-sack.
"Is the crying of an infant in the
night," asked the newest boarder, "a
call to arms?" "Sometimes," ad
mitted the Cheerful Idiot. "And
again, it may be only a bottle cry. It
all depends."
"Beef is likely to be very dear,"
said the young husband to his inex
perienced wife. "Never mind, love,"
replied the latter, whose housekeep
ing experience is nil. "Never mind;
we'll live on porterhouse steak."
Bostrand —That tall, angular man?
Oh, he's Hairweight; famous for his
poetry. Simplex—Why, I never heard
of it. Bostrand—Probably not. He's
famous for having written more ob
scnre verse than any man iu his set.
Perry Patettic—l wonder how one
of them fellers that has a steady job
and works every day feels? Wayworn
Watson—You better not let your
thinker run on them ideas. First
thing you know you may go wrong.
Scorcher-—They say that it has a
bad effect on the brain to ride witu
your head down between the handle
bars. Sprocket—Don't you believe a
word of it. The men who ride that
way haven't any brain to be affected.
Family Friend -1 congratulate yon,
my dear sir, on the marriage of your
daughter. I see you are gradually
getting all the girls off your bands.
Old dlivebranch—Off my hands—yesl
Bnt the worst of it is, I have to keep
their husbands on their feet.
Doctor—Did yon take that prescrip
tion around to Mr. Ailing? Boy—
Yes, sir. Doctor —I forgot the exact
number of his residence. How did
you find it? Boy—l told everybody
that I bad one of your prescriptions
for Mr. Ailing, and thoy all told me
to look for a house with crape on the
doer.