v\- VVWAVWiI FROM THE GALLERY By Constance D'Ariy Mackay % They sat iu llit* first row of the ga! lery. Now tliat the tumult of the rush was over the girl had time to take off jior hat and smooth her rumpled hair, hlie was still breathless, aud her cheeks were glowing, The man beside her turned and looked back triumphantly. "We did pretty well to get this far frout," he said. There's a wbole lot of people k there standing up. It's always a packed lioiise for an all star show." "Yes," ii-seuted the girl vaguely. "You see, it's all so—so new aud so strange. I've only been u> the theater once ' 112 >:c iu my life. That was when Uncle Ik a took me to see 'Shore Acres.' Oh, that vv us so reul! 1 could almost believe it was true Will this be like Shore Acres," do you think?" The man spread his programme out on his knee. "Well, no, not exactly," he answered. "This Is 'Romeo and Juliet.' 1 ain't strong on Shakespeare myself, but 1 thought you mighr like to see It, Esther." •'Thank you, Mr. Stubbius," said the girl, with a grateful glance. She was a pretty girl, fair haired and fragile—"peaked looking" was the way the people In her aunt's dingy east side boarding house described her when they spoke of her at all, for as errand girl, dish washer and general drudge Esther whs not used to much consld eratlon. The boarders seldom noticed her. True, there had beeu the gawky art studeut who used to take delight in drawing her thin, delicate profile, and who always murmured "splrltuelle" when she passed him the pickles, but until Mr. Stubbins came no one ever had given her so much as a kind word. He spoke to her when they met in the hall, and once he hod taken her to walk in the park. It was after that that he had asked hor togo to the theater. When tlrs piece of news spread among the boarders they exchanged significant glances, but wheu the play turned out to be "Romeo and Juliet" It "■BTT," HE BEGAN, "l AIJi'T MUCH AT LOVEMAKHtd." •eerned as If the climax had been reached. One of the married women sniffed reminlsceiitly. "I remember me and Jim went years ago, wheu we were flr.-d engaged, and we held hands all during the last act." "If you marry Mr. Stubbins you won't have to work so hard," said an other of the boarders kindly. Esther opened her brown eyes wide In an astonished glance. She had not thought of Mr. Stubbins as a means of escape He was not an Ideal lover. He was red faced and puffy, with abnor mally large hands aud feet. Still, as Esther acknowledged to herself, he was kind, kinder than any one else had ever been in all her life. As for the play, the words of "Romeo and Juliet" meant nothing to her. She had never heard of that Immortal trag edy of youth and love. But the thought of going to the theater was a wonder ful rift in the gray of her existence. When the great night arrived her fin gers trembled so that she could hardly fasten her simple gown. Her aunt, kindled Into kindness by the unexpect edness of the situation, helped her dress. "It will be a great thing for you, Esty," she said. "If Mr. Stubbins should ask you to marry him. Besides, I've got enough to do to look after my self without taking care of you. I hope you'll always remember how kind I've been to you, Esty, and l»w I've let you work for your board aud given you a home. Now, don't sit staring, like a bump on a log. wheu he's talking to you, and don't have that faraway look In your eyes that you've got there this minute." "Yes. aunt," said Esther, tbiuking more of the theater than of Mr Stub bins Aud no*. at last she was there—ln side the theater. The lights, the mu •lc, the sense of waiting for one knew uot what ii 11 were intoxicating She hardly saw the hurrying ushers, the people taking their places At length came the magic Instant when the over ture died to a whisper, the footlights shone luminously In the darkness and the great curtain rose slowly, giving to view a scene iu Verona When it fell there was a thunder of applause, of which Esther seemed to hear only the echo. "A ah!" she breathed, with a little shiver, and in spite of her aunt's instructions that was the only word she spoke all the evening Mr Stubbins gave up all ef forts at conversation and contented himself with gazing about the house or watchlug the flushed, rapt face of the girl beside him. At length the finnl curtain fell. Mr. Stubbins smiled at Esther "Pretty good show that was." lie observed gen lully. His voice awakened Esther from her dream of romance to the actual pres rut of boarding houses and drudgery. "Yes oh. yes, Mr. Stubbins!" she said The flush had left her cheek, and she was very pale. They spoke little ou the way home. Esther was thinking of what she had seen Mr Stubbins was wondering which was th<* easiest and quickest way to propose. On the steps of her aunt's boarding house they paused. The street was very 11. The ugly rows of houses opposite were touched by moonlight— such nioonlltrht as slivered. tli£ stieyts of Verona long ago Mr. Stubbins cleared his throat. "Esty." he began. "I ain't much at lovemaking, like that Borneo fellow we saw this evening, but my business is doing well, and I'm thinking of settling down You'd make , a fine little housekeeper. I took to you from the first—you must have seen that and—and 1 w ant you to marry me" As Esther listened she had a fleet ing vision of Romeo. How gracefully he had stood beneath that flower hung balcony, while Mr Stubbins, red from the unwonteduess of lovemaking. look ed more awkward and florid than ever. She nave a little casp of pleasure, Mr Stubbins thought He smiled benef icently. "Of course you're surprised." he said, "and it's only natural. But I mean what 1 say You're lonely and I'm lonely. I'll give you a good home, and you'll never be sorry for marrying me." Esther made n quick, despairing ges ture 'Wait, Mr. Stubbins!" she cried. "I haven't said that I'd marry you. ! And I can't say It, because I don't love | you. Oh, I know you can't understand, but there are things a girl wants more than a home a thousand times more! 1 hope you're not angry with me, Mr. Stubbins, for you've always been so kind, aud I'll never forget your taking me to see a play that showed me what love really means." She vanished Into the house, leaving the astonished Mr. Stubbins agape on j the doorsteps. "Well," he ejaculated, "that beats all! A man spends his good money to take a girl to a show, and then she goes and acts like that! I thought seeing Romeo would fix mat ters. but you never can depend on a woman, anyhow." THE. NAME "JOHN BULL." It Was Hie intention of tbr Satirical Dr. Arbnthaot. John Bull, the mythical personage supposed to represent the English peo ple, was the invention of Dr. Arbuthnot In one of his satirical sketches ridicul ing the great Duke of Marlborough. In the opluion of Dr. Johnson, Arbuthnot was"the first man among eminent writ ers in (jueen Anne's time." He drew John Bull as the typical Englishman it stout, red faced old farmer, far too corpulent for comfort, choleric, but withal an honest aud well meaning fel |tw. He clothed him In leather breeches and top boots, put a stout oaken cudgel In bis hand and a bulldog at his heels and set him up for all time to serve as the representative Englishman 1 He may have been not so bad a cari cature In the days of Queen Anne, but today certainly there is much force In an English critic's remark that "he completely hides the Englishman of real life." The average Englishman of today Is physically no stouter certainly than—probably not so stout as—the av j erage American, and the stout cudgel and the bulldog are no longer apt sym bols of the modern Britisher's disposi tion. lie has lost the excessive pugnaci ty of his forefathers and Is. above all, anxious to keep the peace with his Un ■ pie Samuel.—London Standard. SILVER MINES. The Way .Nature Forms These Depos its of Precious Metal. The process by which nature forms her silver mines Is very interesting. It must be remembered that the earth's i crust Is full of water, which percolates everywhere through the rocks, making solutions of elements obtained from them. These solutions take up small particles of precious metal which they find here and there. Sometimes the solutions in question are hot, the water having got so far down as to be set boiling by the inter nal heat of the globe. Then they rush upward, picking up the bits of metal as they go. Naturally heat assists th» performance of this operation. Now and then the streams thus form ed, perpetually flowing hither and thither below the ground, pass through cracks or cavities in the rocks, where they deposit their lodes of sliver. This Is kept up for a great length of time perhaps thousands of years—until the pocket It filled up. Crannies permeating the stony mass i in every direction may become filled with the precious metal or occasionally j a chamber may be stored full of It as I If 1,000,Q»H) hands were fetching the treasures from all sides and hiding j away a mine for some lucky prospector ! to discover In another ago. SPECKLED TOBACCO. Mot* the Little Yellow Spots Are Formed on the leaf. "Little yellow specks on the wrapper are positive Indications of a cigar's ex cellence. Choose a speckled cigar, and you can't go wrong." The speaker was a skate salesman. The tobacco salesman laughed at him. "Are you a victim of that error, too?" he said. "Listen and I'll tell you all about those little yellow specks. "We are In Cuba. In mile long rows grow the tobacco plants In a blinding sunlight. Suddenly the sky Is overcast, a shadow falls. Then the clouds disap pear and the suu shines again upon plants dotted her? and there with Im mense raindrops raindrops peculiar to Cuba, as large as the largest pearls. "These drops become burniug glasses In the sunlight. The same as real lenses they concentrate the sun's heat, and ou the leaf beneath them the little specks that you venerate are burned. These little yellow specks Indicate the tobacco's quality no more than freckles on a man's face Indicate his ability. "To choose cigars by Jielr specks is as foolish as It would be to choose salesmen by their freckles."—Chicago Chronicle. tVlint ••llftinlr*' Meant. Though the Scottish guard of France had long lost its natural character, it Jealously retained until the crash of ITS'.t all its curious old privileges, which, though ihey led to constant wrangles with other regiments, had beeu litl.v all me | by Louis XIV. He was actually obliged to lutervene at his own wedding to compose a dispute us to the precedence of the Scots gaard and the Cent gentilshommes. "Proud a-- a Scotchman" was an old proverb in France, and their successors In the b t lyguard did their best to jus tify it. But the most curious survival. lon, after a word of Scotch had been hen ill in the corps, was the practice of answering *'lihinlr"' <a corruption for"I am here"i when the roll was called, which was religiously maintained, at all events, down to the revolution.— Macmillan's Magazine. ••Carat" »> A|>plle<l to Diamonds. Although the term "carat" Is applied to diamonds as well as to gold. It does not mean the Ratne thing Used with regard to the metal It expresses quality or fineness, 2-\ carat, being pure gold and "2 carat equal to coined gold But applied to the diamond carat means ac tual weight, and by this measure 115*4 carats are equal to an ounce troy. Th« value of a diamond is not merely so much per carat, Irrespective of size, but increases in an increasing ratio with the weight of the stone Ladu Moon HD A. M. DAVIKS ogdp.N jl ' ui'HlUJht. I."y. Itu Ituhu / Outside the stately old mansion the press of carriages was growing almost unmanageable. Within the tipple of soft laughter aud waving of many fans, the glitter and glow of diamonds be spoke the fact that Lady Cheyneuiore had thrown open Little Barrington House for the celebrated tableaux of which all London had been talking for the week past. The greatest beauties of the season were to pose, well known artists had consented to arrange and drape their 1 lovely models, and "everybody" was I there. Near the door, a little out of the i crush, Nigel Anstruther stood and i looked about him with the eyes of ! the man to whom Loudon sights have been strange for the last six years. He was a little amused and a little I bored. Society fuuctlous were not much in his line. Just back from In | dia on leave, he had ruu up to town to I see one or two old frleuds, aud Ilono ! ria Derwentwater, having no spare j moment to grant liiui from her other guests, had suggested his coming onto j Lady Cheynemore's. It was rather a nuisance, but he i wanted to get back lo the country next morning if possible. And, after all, the i- dor, the lights, the pretty women, were not so bad. Presently he must in, . Ilonoria ;;ud ask the question that this : 112 term ton's crowd had rendered impossible to put. It was expected of him, he supposed. His people had al ways hoped tor it. And then ali at once, by u sudden freak of the imag ination, as he glanced about for the fair English face there rose before him the laughing, mischievous eyes of the little American girl who had teased, bewildered aud thoroughly enchanted him duriug those few brief weeks in Simla. Where was she now'/ Involuntarily his thoughts wandered back to the day wheu he had seen her first, dainty and sweet lu fluffy white, sitting under a marquee at the vice roy's reception. She seemed such a lit tle thing that he started in surprise wheu she complained of being unable to secure a really good riding horse. The hands she held out for Inspection were absurdly small. Still doubtful, he had yet managed to get for her the best woman's mount to be had In Sim la. But the first minute she was up his misgivings vanished. She certainly could ride. After that every day they were out together exploring the bills, trotting gayly over the smooth, hard roads. Mrs. Wharton, ouly too glad that Ethel had found some one togo with her, consenting willingly. And every day Anstruther's admiration deepened. If there w-as one thlug he approved most It was a good seat. The girl's father was dead, and she and her mother, a frail but ludomita ble spirited woman, were leisurely see lug the world. After stilling in Bom bay, they had run up to Simla for the breezes and lingered ou, pleased with the queer little town and the Anglo- Indian life. It was quite gay at that season. Simla was full, and every day there were dinners, luncheons, teas and picnics Would Anstruther ever forget the moonlight picnic he gave? The night bad been glorious. U: der the soft glow of an Indian moon the hills lay mistily radiant, every leaf on the deodars seeming to stand out with vivid life. Ethel Wharton aud Anstruther with i several others had gone on horseback, the rest of the party in rickshaws with I coolies to carry the provisions. The pic nic had been a great success. And then came the ride home. By a mutual though unspoken impulse Anstruther and Ethel had dropped back of the others. Both were conscious of a cer : tain exaltation of mood, a vague ex clteinent due to the influence of the | moon—perhaps. Gradually their talk, j at first animated and quick, sluckened I to monosyllables and at last died i away For several moments they rode on hi j silence; then, as If oppressed by the 1 stillness, the girl began to sing. To ! music of her own she had set some J words by George Mac Donald: "Lady 1 Moon, Lady Moon, where are you rov ' lng? Over the sea. Lady Moon, Lady | Moou, whom are you loving? All who love me." Anstruther, listening, was aware of a sudden pang. Wus she going over the sea? Would she be going home? "Lady Moon," he began unsteadily. "Ah, that Is you so white, so fair, so perfect! And you, too, will pass from us! What shall we do without your light?" The girl glanced at him quickly. "Lady Moon, Lady Moon, whom are you loving?" she hummed. Anstruther, his heart suddenly tteating fast, leaned forward. "Do you mean that?" he demanded tensely. "Do you love those who love you? For you know that I, Ethel"— as something In the girl's face made his pulses leap. But, the great crimson waves flooding up over brow and cheek, she touched her horse smartly. "Come," she said breathlessly, "I'll race you home. went back that night to his quarters, a glad exultation tingling through every vein She eared, he was sure she cared And then tiie sight of a long official looking envelope on Ills table for a mo ment drove every other thought from his mind His orders were to report at once. There had been a sharp up rising 111 the bills He must take his reg ••nt out without delay, nor could he tell how long his absence might be. With li- rely time to fling a few neces saries into his kit bag aud scratch a hasty note to Miss \\ barton lie was off. Three weeks later, returning, tired, bronzed aud eager, the first thing to meet his eyes was the note still lying where the forgetful boy had left It. And Miss Wharton and her mother were gone. Ten days ago they bad left, he was told. There was no clew by which to follow them; no one knew whither they had departed. Anstruther, torturing himself with vain imaginings as to what she must lave thought of him. nearly went mad. lie could hardly sleep. The man grew liervous, irritable, until even the colo nel noticed it aud recommended a trip home. As a consequence Anstruther now stood In Lady Cheynemore's draw ing room anii indifferent to what be came of hlin, vva:ted to ask lionorla Derwentwater lo he his wife. After ali he had always known Ilonoria. Probably they would get on as well as most married couples \nd the dad would be pleased. There was a sudden ripple of talk at his side. "Here Is the next. What, you have not met her yet? My dear, ahs_ ls_ the beauty this season, Jtuit wail atld V nil H ill see." An>n uili'T listened with his tolerant smile. He must into reach Ilonorla. Hut us he > 1 IIT« ■«I :ill ai once the lights were lowered, ami he. perforce, halted. Well, lie could wait until the tableau was over. \ faint curiosity, too, was awakened b\ what lit- caught from his neighbors. Who was this new beauty? And then he started violently. From ' the piano came a few bars of prelude ; oddly familiar. The curtain rose, and ! the picture stood revealed. In the Quick murmur of applause Anstruther s - ! sharp exclamation escaped unnoticed. I There. infolded ill long. clinging dra peries, her lovely hair unbound, one I arm thrown negligently up behind the I small head, re-ted his lady, a huge sll • ver crescent seeming to bear her . j through limitless space. Her face was I lifted. Her eyes gazed wistfully into t \ the distance. "Lady Moon. Lady Moon, where are you roving?" sung the famous soprano, , but Anstrutlier hardly heard. Ills i breath was ruining with difficulty; his neart was pounding. S > she had not forgotten! La ly Moon, oh. Lady Moon! As the curtain dropped he turned to the man next him, whom luckily he ; chanced to have met. "It—it is Miss Wharton, is it not?" be asked, and as the other nodded a ! quick gratitude welled up within him. Thank heaven, he was not too late! I "Won't you take me back?" lie de , matuled. "It Is all right," in answer to a look of surprise. "We—we are old friends. 1 ustd to know her In India, and—and there is something 1 ought to tell her." ihe Diplomat to Clerk. "Henry, you haven't a room left, have you?" Inquired a New York drum mer of his friend of many years' stand ing on the other side of the counter of ; • the Chicago hotel. "Not one," replied llenry. "but I'll ' look over the ruck again and see if 1 can't thai i ..u a place somewhere." "All right." siti.l the New Yorker while h;> friend gave the slips his anx ious atteuLou I.ight broke over his face i i a moment, and he came back. "A man in on the parlor floor gave up h;s loom about an hour ago, but he didn't export to leave it quite so soon. 11l mnJ up an I -«■ if I can't hurr.v j him a little." The l oner's hell was rung, a whis pered colloquy tooi; place between Hen i ry and th.it blue shirted functionary, and in tifteeu minutes the man from | New Yotk was rejoicing in one of"the ; best rooms in the house." liut the clerk omitted t > inform him that the previous occupant had given up his roJin at the precise moment ) when he had given up his life HIDDEN GOLD. The Hoard of IVecloim Metal That I* Seer«-t«-»l In Imlia. It would be an immense benefit to al. mankind if the stores of gold held b} individuals in India could be made I available for general use. Ever since j the dawn of history that country has been gathering gold and hiding It away Treasures of almost incalrulable value ure possessed by many Indian princes When the niaharajah of Burdwan died the stock of goid and silver left by him was so large that no member of the family could make an accurate esti | mate of it. A report made to the Brit lsh government by a secret agent stat . eil that on the estate of the defunct po tentate were a number of treasure ! houses, one of them containing thre« j rooms. The largest of these three j rooms was forty eight feet long and j was tilled with ornaments of gold and i silver, plates and cups, washing bowls. I Jugs and so forth all of precious met I als. The other two rooms were full of j bags and boxes of gold mohurs and ! silver rupees. '1 he door of this and other treasure houses had been bricked up for nobody knows how long. These valuables, according to an un dent custom, were in the custody of the niaharajah's wife, the vaults being attached to her apartments, but none of them was allowed to be opened save lu the presence of the master. One vault was tilled with ornaments belong ing to different gods of the family. Tha natives of India commonly bury their hoards, and among the poorer classes a favorite hiding place Is a hole dug beneath the bed. Disused welis ara sometimes employed for the same pur pose. It Is undoubtedly a fact that very many hoards thus deposited are lost forever Gold is also valued on re ligious grounds. The gods take up great quantities of gold, sliver and precious stones. The temples contain vast amounts «.f the yellow and white metals The habit of hoarding seems to have been induced by ages of mis- I government, during which oppression and violence were rife. No feeling of safety existing, It was natural that the native® should adopt the practice of re ducing their wealth to a concentrated shape and hiding It Brooklyn Eagle. POINTED PARAGRAPHS. The day after you meet the average man he asks you to take sides. Flattery has a prettj bad name, but It gets belter returns than disagree able candor. Of this you may be sure--that the black sheep in every family was once the most petted lamb. When a baby cries lu its father's arms he discovers that it is crying be cause it wants togo to you. A man never knows until he has fallen into a hole how many paths he might have taken to avoid it. When two men get their pencils mixed, ever notice how jealously the owner of the longer pencil insists on getting his own back? Time tiies so rapidly that It seems only a few mouths from the time a boy Is crying for a jumping jack until ho is paying for it Atchison Globe. SYMPATHETIC LISTENERS Tin- Help The) May \lYord t« Slow itiitl Indifferent Til I kern. At no time more than when a thouglit is struggling toward expression should u friend bear with a friend's infirmi ties. A deep sympathy should be pour ed out with lavish affection about the one who is seriously striving to say some real thing In this atmosphere ot patient, sympathetic intelligence tha inept word, the crude phrase, the whol ly Inadequate expression will lie en ablet i to do their work, and the thought transference will be effected; the thought will be safely lodged in the mind of the other, slightly bruised in transit, but intact and intelligible. With an I Know what you mean," "Exactly." or "Goon; 1 understand," much help may be rendered, and at last when the thinker of the thought has pi. teed h's friend in possession and by i >.a >n of this effort has entered In to full,'i , •< i of it himself, the con\ei ■ n a way to begin. Thru 1 i i i a tie- elaboration of the tliorgiit all the beauties that can be WOM a O;l of words precision, bal ance. mush but let us, dear lovers of langn ig •, remember to be discreetly gentle HI, I I i n with averted glance while tiie thought Is still in negligee. A VENERABLE FICTION. The ( ereiuon 112 of ('arryliiy the I'urte In llie Itmifto ot l.ordM. When the lord chancellor enters the bouse of lords to preside over its de liberation- lie i accompanied by his "purse bearer." This functionary, how ever, dues not carry the purse of the lord rhancellor, which would be a weighty responsibility, as his lordship draws it salary of iIh.IMMI a year. The purse tiie "purse bearer" solemnly car vies as, arrayed in court dress, he pre cedes tli*- I >hl rliauci llor to and from ihe holism of lords is it gorgeous satchel embroidered with the royal arms and other heraldir devices in white and gold and lined with the richest silk. It 1- suppost d t i contain the great seal. As it ma tin* of fact, that emblem of a mighty sovereignty is never in the satchel. If it were, the responsibility of the "purse bearer" would be great— much greater indeed than if he had to bear a purse that carried a salary of £lo,<»a year. The ceremony of carrying the purse lu the house of lords is but one of the many venerable lictious which play a picturesque part In the parliamentary procedure. The purse is placed on the : woolsack. It indicates that the lord ; chancellor is in possession of the great ( seal and therefore entitled to perform his duties as speaker of the house of lords.—London Globe. THREE WAYS TO SUBDUE. ' A Story of iluddlia and tlie Trainer of Klepliaiitw. From Hindoo tales that have come i through the Chinese, who give us most i of our Indian records—the rtshls were dreamers and not recorders—we have ! this story of Buddha: The lord demanded one day of an elephant trainer what were the means j he employed to subdue his beasts. "Three." said tlie mahout. "One ap | plies to the mouth a hook of iron, | which he attaches to breast clasp, and i the elephant rannot lift his neclC. Then j one gives less and less food till thin ■ and weak and finally heats." J "And what does one accomplish by ; these means?" asked he-of-the-yellow | light. "The crochet de for serves to over come the resistance of the head; the I deprivation of food and drink, the vio lence of the body; the stick subdues the sjiirit. After lliis, all Is easy." The niuibused-bronze-one said: "I aiso have three ways to subdue. I First, by perfect sincerity I control what goes forth from the mouth; by , affection and charity I harmonize the irregularities ( >f the body; by Inward vibration of thought I calm the spirit. Did you ever think of trying these ou the elephant?" Everybody's Magazine. FAMILY HISTORY. I nlvernnl Intercut In l\ no win K W hat Our I orefutherN Hid. "Why doi. i jon trace your family history?' The common reply to this question is summed up in the words, "If I knew h »w togo about it I should enjoy doing so." For few are the indi viduals who do not at times feel a longing to open the book of the past and read the records of their ancestors. Edward Everett felt that longing when he wrote There is no man of any culture who does not lake some inter est In what >vas done by his forefa thers." The desire to trace the descent of ones family and to transmit the record to one's successors Is as old as life a strand in the binding cord of filial love. So prevalent has the desire been among all nations to which either his tory or tradition extends that it has been regarded by many writers as an instinct in human nature. Observing its universality, the historian Hume began hi- history of England with these lin- - •The cur isitv entertained by all uutfons of inquiry into the ex ploits and adventures of their ances tors commonly excites a regret that j the history of the ages should be in- j volved in obscurity, uncertainty and tradition." New England Magazine Ihe Cronuiuy of Burning Smalt Coal. It i common delusion that a small fuel must necessarily be of low calorific i value, and accordingly of doubtful eco nomic value even if it can be burned. As it matter of fact, many small fuels are of exrellent calorific value, and when burned with suitable appliances will show a phenomenal saving. Agaiu and again have I seen an evaporation , | of ten pounds of water per pound of fuel obtained with slack from Welsh .sir;,in ;t| rusting from 5 to •! shillings 1 r am less than t'.e large coal. Slack I from a good Welsh steam coal is really • | remarkable value for money as com- ; pared with the large coal from which j ! It Is separated. Generally speaking, ' twenty tons of such slack will evapo- j | rate fully as much water as nineteen j I tons of the large coal, and assuming ! their respective costs per ton to be 15 j shillings and lit» shillings the saving to 1 the steam user will be the difference I in cost between twenty tons at 13 | shillings per ton and nineteen tons at ! i! 0 shillings per ton. say £4.— W. F. j Goodrich In Engineering Magazine. KILLTHE COUCH AND CURE THE LUNGS | WTH Dr. King's New Discovery ,-NN /CONSUMPTION PRICE FORI OUGHS and 50c&$1.00 V OI 0S Free Trial. Surest and Quickest Cure for all THROAT and LUNG TROUB LES, or MONEY BACK. mm 11! A. FLellable TO SHOP For all kind of Tin Roofing, Spouting and Ganaral Job Work. Stoves, Heaters, Ranges, Furnaces, eto- PRICKS'NIK MM! QLALITY TUB 6KST! JOHN HIXSON NO. 116 E. FRONT BT. ODORS !N THERAPEUTICS. |*er fit ine*» Mini 'I Kielr I h«* In tli#» l'rar liee i»f Medicine. Odor-, whether agreeable or dis agree.-;! le. ure not muses .«f disease in the sense gem-rally taken. They may disorder certain healthy functions by ! Impal ing n< rvotis energy, by diminish ing wholesome respiration ami thus creating a predisposit ion to attack by ' disease Severe fa"!»I tie-- is sometimes observ ed i i on-; i iic persons upon their en trance I:. ,t room in which tuberoses in kept ! 1 cadarhe is often produced l.y iie 0.l - en, >uuting front the hon eysii, ,|. . pi eof Sharon or carna tion i . ■ 11or of betouy in flower is lid to I ;ve caused intoxication in tho • ho gather it The making of j lin > r i ijeci el ions and the tri titrating of • i'i . j ; . walnuts or colocynlh are > ! ' •' :panics! by attacks of syn l ■ i ban- been made to utilize o in thrrapriit irs. The odors of v. t a.- I heliotrope tire credited with -ooihing influence over person ; . erteil to attacks of nerv ihe use of toilet water in i tlie form >o ,i -pray will often restore j those ex is. te.| with 'he cares of busl i ness, s i-i.il t.r domestic dtiiies. In the • t 1! ■ use of perfume is considered I t!s • im!i we look upon it mere ly :■■■• a luxury. It is asserted that those I 1 who are employed in laboratories! , wlt'-re perl' .uies are made or among growing (lowers are healthy to an ex i tent cxceeii ng those not so employed.— ' Medical It MUSIC'S MIGHTY REALM, j 111 If There In lull fl SIIIKIC HAD 1 UI - M-IMI S|>e«*eli. "In the mighty realm of music there :is but one single speech." Music forms the uuivcrs.il language which, when all other languages were confounded, the ' confusion of Habel left uncoil founded, j The white man and the black mau, the I red man and t,u* yellow man. can slug ' together, hov ever difficult they may ! find it to be to talk to each other. And ' both sexes and :• 11 :nr«s may thus ex j press their emoi ms simultaneously. ! for in virtue oft: e power of the ear to | distinguish side by side those differing but concordant notes which make up ; harmony there is not only room, but demand, for nil tiie qualities of voice which childhood, adolescence, maturity and old age supply. Tims a love of | music is much more frequent than a love of painting or sculpture, and you will reach the hearts and touch the feelings of the majority of mankind more <)iiickh by singing them a song ! than by showing them a picture. In j truth, tiie sensitiveness of the ear to melody and to harmony is so great that we not only seek to gratify it when bent upon recreation, but even in the | midst of the hardest labor we gratify j it if we can London Catholic Time« The I fllns-. i.f tlordpHiix. The cobwebs will seem to an impres sionable visitor the noblest things in ; the I!ordealix cellars Some of them I look lil.e thick pile curtains, somber ill hue. of i 'iirsc but famously suggestive of \ ritilh And with even only a' ii era' isi.i ua t ion one may goto! .- • d I > tie- barrels fancying the pendent e- overhead are dusky s'.alattl: - -lead of the airy next to no ii ; ng as i!;e\ real!\ are. If you hold your candle high enough you may •Is iia f' w yards of the fabric. Hut j ili ,' were trui.v a allocking deed of I vandalism, for, though no layman can. uni left and why this dismal tapestry is reverenced as it is. his Ignorance will I not Ise held sufficient excuse for .als ; eriuie.—< 'hambers' Journal. v. h> \o<r Mrs. Frederi' '. SchofT. president of the National Mothers' t'ongress. 1s en thusiastic about a delightful flve-year old girl she met in Salt Lake City. "Jane was out driving with her fa ther." said Mrs. Schotl'. "and noticed | ! that her father simply slashed the whip I through the air to make the horse 1 ! quicken his pace "'Papa.' s-iid Ih<» little one. "why don't you v.V;> its <•: '•]• u tl, t way?"' I —Woman's n .tne Companion. I i The Home Paper of Danville. Of course you read —■r" J I. ■ MI 1! |' il i J! THE nEOPLES | KQPULAR I APER. i | I j Everybody Reads It. I | I Ptibli.shcil f;verv Morning Except " Sunday at j No. ii E. Ma ho ng St. i Subscription 6 cents IVr Week. j A HEARTY LAUGH ft 1* 11 'I I* Im llctli'i «»f a Son* H 111 11% Soul, Tlie coiil. chilling atmosphere which sometimes pervades a reception or oth er s> nl gathering 1- often entirely 1 ili<sip.ii«i liy the hearty. ringing luugb ic of some simple, genuine soul who is bubbling over with fun. The stilT- j in ■» and constraint which a minute In-fore em liarrasseil the wliole cotn paliv are relieved as if by magic. There is something In genuine, spon taneous humor which removes nil re- j straint, -■ -alters cm Warrassinent, re- . lie\es r ii-mi ami welds sou In together | as no iiiMMueiloii or conversation can. j 11 pills llie shy ai ease, dissipates prej | lulice. givt < contideilcc to itie timid and natures tin- shrinking soul. The -!ii-i<ry siu i- or iln* spontaneous laugb awakens sympathy mi'l arouses feel ings nf friemliiness. It seems to melt ' all barriers. oil. whi.t riches live in a sunny soul! ! Whin a blesseil heritage is a sunny face, to In- :iliie to fling out sunshine wherever om goes, to lie able to seat* ; ti-r Hie shadows and to lighten sorrow laden lu-arts. ;<i have power to send cheer iuio despairing souls through a sunny and a radiant heart! And if, haply, ihis heritage is eoinbined with a superb manner and exquisite per- I soiialily, no money wealth can com pare with its value. Ibis blessing is not very difiicult of acquisition, lor a sunny face is but a reflection of a warm, generous heart. The sunshine does not appear flrst Upon the face, but in the soul. Th» glad smile thai makes tin- face radiant is but a glimpse of the soul's sunshine, —O. S. Harden in .Success Magazine. FIRE AND AIR. ; Tli» AnrlfNla lii-rojnlrnt tlie liitl- Ilel«llon» ll<*( rr.-fu Thru. Tbi l intimate relation between fire j snd sir was early recognized, seeing j that experience soon taught that air | was necessary for fiie The i»]iperi j meut of burning a candle In a closed i vessel, now so familiar to every school boy. is a very old one. aud the influ- I ence of a blast of air oti a furnace had ] oeen probabli noticed from a very re ue-le period. My -toe It was affirmed iO be the food of lire, while by others the same belief . , embodied In the 1 phrase Air nourishes flr>." Aii.ii i.ii w us lonic ago übserveil that niter, a substam-e well known to the lh"flllenI pl»:losojilicrs of the past, could produce inter; •- gnltlon. It was hence Inferred thai, since niter possessed this property, it necessarily followed that the two substances resembled each oth erin co:-ipo iiion. According to Hob ert Itoyle, tin* air contained "volatile niter," while Lord Kacon held that air contained a "volatile, crude and windy spirit." and thunder and lightning Were suppose 1 to be due to the pres ence nf minute particles of this niter j diffused through air. "ilie* important bearing of such obser j vations is due to the fact that oxygen gas. \ I-.ich i- one of the chief constitu ents of jt.r and tite one to whirti it owes its power of supporting combus tion. also forte-. the largest elementary constituent of niter and Is likewise the source of the power possessed by that ] body of supporting combustion. | The action of beat on metals in raus j lug them to lose their metallic luster had also not escaped notice, and Car ! dan. a philosopher who lived during I the sixteenth century, in noticing the j increase in weight that lead undergoes | when heated in air. attributed It to the gas In the air, which feeds flsme and ' which rekindle* « body presenting an \ ignited point A « nnt I nil* *«•»«. A Scotsman went to an Knglish race meeting and boldly staked a sovereign. ; Strangely enough, the horse he bucked : proved a winner, and he went to the ! "bookie" to claim his winnings The j sporting man hegrudglngly banded htm 5 sovereigns lie looked at each one • very carefully before placing it In his pocketbook. "Well,'" said the "bookie," with a snarl, "are you afraid they're bad?" j "Oh, no," said the Scotsman, "but I was just iooktu' to tnak' sure the bad 1 111 I ;miL !e want to do all kinds af PrintiM 4——4. inn i; . «■ it ill; i it uvu Ml II'! M. 11l till KB. ■■ lis ten* ;! 112 T A well ]>; ■ tasty, Bill ot !( / ter Head, I' )Z Ticket, Circ . Program, Stnu >J ment or Card V) an advertisemen for your business, a satisfaction to you New Type, New Presses, , BesiPapr, s&c Stilled Wert, n ' Preiiness- Ml you can ask. i i A trial i will make you our customer We respect full" - as* that trial. IT ill li if! No. n F.. Mahoninjr St..
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers