DREAMING AND HOPE.
The rosy wings of fancy
Arc folded now In rest,
I And hojie has hushed her dreaming
To sleep within my breast.
An I cold and cruel reason
lias whispered unto mo—
If hope and fancy vanish
i What lite would surely lie.
If dreams he dead, no matter,
If hope should linger still,
Sweet iwuce will fan her pinions
And soften ev'ry 111
But if the hope should perish.
And slip from life away,
A cloudy day this life, theu,
With morn and eve of gray.
With no blight st:u ut noontime
To pierce the heavy pall,
To brighten wi.ii Its glowing
The shadows over all.
And life would be undoubted,
A living but to lie:
Existence in all phases
A mere necessity.
Theu wake, my sleeping fancy,
And hope awake to smile,
And slumlier not forever.
But soothe my life awßile.
Sweet fancy, plume your pinions.
To soar the rosy sea.
Fly lorth, O blessed hoping,
And bring my joys to me.
—Atlanta Constitution.
i THE FREED PRISONER.
"I consider it the only hope for him,
Judge," said the doctor.
''lt will establish a bad precedent. The
L v era will think all they have to do
i sick so as to get free," said the
esfilv.
"It is but a question of time, and a very
#uort time, too, before a greater judge
even than you will give him his discharge,
and not only him, but a good many others
besides," said the doctor, much provoked.
"Eh, is that so?" said the judge, ignor
ing sarcasm, "is there really so much
sickness in the jail?"
"A good deal, and chiefly confined to
the United States prisoners. Spotted
fever rages with fatal effect among
them."
"That is strange. How do you account
for it? Is illicit distilling an unhealthy
occupation?"
"When it reaches its natural result of
landing the operator into jail, there to
sicken, it may be called decidedly un
healthy. But, jesting aside, these moun
tain fellows suffer more Hum Ihe other
prisoners for the reason that they have
always lived a free life in the open air:
therefore the close confinement of the
jail proves very irksome and they sicken
under it. This spotted fever is, 1 think,
the result of lack of proper circulation
of the blood. It is a sort of epidemic
among the mountaineers. Some of them
have died > f it and others are very low,
and they will die too. if they stay in
that jail. The thought of going home is
ail that will save them now—Jack Big
by, especially: release is the only hope
for him."
"He has no one to thank but himself,"
said the judge. "Why did he meddle
with illicit distilling?"
'1 grant all you say; but death is a se
vere sentence for a few gallons of moun
tain dew," said the doctor.
"True," said the judge after a pause.
"1 will suspend sentence in his case, and
let him go home. Here is his release,"
said he, as he filled out a blank; "take it
,to him—a new sort of physic, truly! But
tell him lie won't get off so easy the next
time he meddles with the revenue."
"Thanks," said the doctor as lie took
the paper. "It will be many a day, if
ever, before he will feel like playing
with edged tools. Judge, this is the first
time 1 ever envied your high position
when I see the mercy you can show."
"Is the sun a-shinin' outside, l'a?"
*•■****
The sick man lay oil his bunk in his
cell; his fever • Torched tongue was stiff
and blackened so that lie could scarcely
speak. It was difficult to recognize in
the wan shadow lyingtiiere the stalwart
mountaineer of a few months ago. His
blue eyes were s ink deep in his head;
his matted hair and beard were bleached
from a sunburnt yellow to a sickly straw
color, and over the hollow caverns of his
cheeks the white skin, blanched by pris
on dank, was tightly drawn. On its
bloodless surface the red blotches of the
spotted fever showed with startling viv
idness.
Could this he Jack Bigby, the man
who could outshoot, outride, outjump
and outdance any of his comrades?
Old Bigby, otherwise I'ap, as lie sat
by the bedside of his sick son, felt dazed
and stunned by the change. He had
only arrived that morning, and, in the
few hours that had passed, failed yet to
realize it. Could that be Jack? He was
changed in Ills ways as well as in his
looks. How strange he talked!
"Set whar I kain see ye, Pap," lie
said, when his father had arrived. "The
sight of ye is good fer sore eyes."
And, as lie said it, all at once the fa
ther had choked up and felt like crying;
he didn't know why. But lie hadn't
done it.
"Hit war powerful cur'ous. Jes' ter
think o' Jack a-sayin' secli a thing!
Rough an' ready Jack ter wanter lay
thar an' look at his ole pap!"
Sir. Bigby, it is true, was not a very
beauteous object, nor one on which most
people would crave to feast their eyes.
He looked as if the summer sun had
shone upon him very hot and the winter
rain had beat UJHIII him very hard. He
could, in fact, he called weather beaten.
His long, iron gray hair and beard were
guiltless of barber or comb and brush
either, for that matter. The seams and
rugged lines of his face caused his coun
tenance to look like a bit of rolling land
scape. But all seamed and rugged as it
was, to the homesick eyes of his son it
was more beautiful than the face of
Adonis.
Mountaineers are not emotional people,
and so old Bigby sat there, his throat
swelling queerly under the strange gaze
of his son. Mingled with his emotion
was a feeling of wonder and horror at
his changed appearance.
"His hands," thought the father, "air
like chicken claws!" Could that pale,
shadowy thing be Jack's muscular fist?
"Is the sun shinin' outside, pap?" asked
Jack, for his father's presence hail bright
ened up his cell.
"Yes," said the old man, "hit's u-shin
in* right smart, hut hit's so dim in hyar,
ye kaint see hit."
"Hit air dim in hyar alius," said the
prisoner, "tell fer a leetle taste o' sun
shine, 'pears like I'd perish."
"Ye'll git better now," said the father,
taking the invalid's thin hand in his
brown, horny one, and awkwardly strok
ing it. "Why, yer hand," said lie by
way of a joke, "is so thin an' while hit
looks renames' like a streak o' light."
"I'low I looks like a afternoon shud
der, anyhow," said the invalid, feebly.
"1 kaint hold out much longer."
"Yer mouth's dry, honey," said the
anxious father, unconsciously going back
to his childhood's way of speaking to
him. "Ilxur, let pap gin ye a let tie sup
o' water ter wet it."
Hut the prisoner closed his eyes and
slightly shook his head.
"Jest a drap," coaxed the father; "jes
the matter o' a drap, Jackie, honey, l '
"Not thet thar water," said the pris
oner rousing up. "Thet tliar prison wa
ter makes me heave. Oh, fer a drink
outer the spring at home! seems like I
could drink hit dry."
Old liigby felt frightened; he was no
part of a nurse, and the changed appear
ance of his son still shocked him.
"llit looks like good water," said he,
"hit does. Try a sup."
But the sick man refused, and his
father welcomed the entrance of the
jailer.
"Here, Jack," said that official, "my
wife's sent you some soup: try and take
it."
Hut the invalid still refused. "I kaint
eat hit," he said.
"What do you crave?" asked the jailer.
"Sunshine an'fresh a'r," cried the pris
oner, rousing up. "Ef I could only git
out whar the sun'd shine on me, an' the
mountain n'r would blow on me, an' what
I could see the peak o' old Baldface,
a-rollin' up behin' pap's house, seems like
I pould git up an' run a miie."
"You should ha' thought of all o' that
afore you went to monkeying with the
revenue," said the jailer.
"I never thought ez how I'd be
cotched," said the prisoner, sullenly.
"But hit does seem hard," said old
Bighv. apologetically, "fer a man ter
suffer so much —eenamos' pay with his
life fer makin' a few gallons o' wild cut
liquor liker that."
"The government don't want it," said
the jailer, undertaking to explain tilt
revenue system, "but it don't want you
to have it, neither."
"Well, now, thet does look cur'ous,"
said old Bigby. "What kain hit matter
ter the gov'meni? En what," he con
tinued, as the jailer was unable to an
swer that question, "en what's a man to
do with his extry crap o' corn when lie
kaint git hit to market? We uns lives on
the side o' old Baldface, en ter haul out
crap ter market costs purty nigh ez
much ez the crap is wuth. En this year,
ovviu' ter one accident en another, the
crap piddled out o' the small een o' the
horn. Hit didn't pay ter haul thet leetle
hit ter market fer the luite o' money
they'd pay for hit. En we uns war hard
up: we had nary sugar nor coffee—jes'
bread en a little bite o" meat; en Jack
sez. sezzoe, '1 hain't agwine ter stend
hit, 1 hain't; I il jes haul the corn ovct
ter Stillinger's still en turn hit inter bug
juice, llit'll foteh nulf ter buy sugar
an' coffee.'
"So lie hauled hit over thar ter the
still, every lot o" our crap we had to spar,
en the .-tillers stilled hit on sheers. The
sliotes. they followed Jack, en the rev'nue
they followed theshotesen busted up the
still, en throwed out the mash en the
beer en the whisky en away went our
year's crap at a lick. En wussitr an all,
they cotched Jack. Stillinger he got er
way—he's a ole baud at the business—en
the rev'nue took en brimg Jack ter At
lanty."
"Then you didn't git no sugar nor cof
fee?" said the jailer, as old Bigby paused.
"Nary drap," said he mournfully, shak
ing his grizzled head, "en we lost our
leetle crap besides. But what's sugar en
coffee ter Jack bein' tuck? .Me en his ma
en the gals wish we uns never beared tell
o' sugar en coffee. What's sugar en cof
fee ter Jack's a lyin' thar a-perishin'
away, weaker 'an a baby?" cried the old
man in a tremulous voice.
Here the sick man's nerves gave way
under a flood of self pity, and lie began
to weep.
"Thar—thar—honey," cried his father,
trying to soothe liitu, "don't ye cry." He
thrust his hand into the pocket, of his
copperas jeans coat and drew out a gaudy
red and yellow cotton handkerchief.
"La! La!" he ejaculated, "ef I hain't
clean disrenieiubered all 'bout hit! Why,
honey, ef hyar hain't anew henkercher
yer ma sent me. She saved up all o'
ole Speck's aigs en sol' 'em Chris'tnas, en
buyed hit fer ye fer a present, en she's
been a-kecpiu' hit fer ye ever sence."
But the gaudy handkerchief, far from
comforting the prisoner, overwhelmed
him with home sickness.
"Take hit away!" he sobbed. "Take
hit away! Oh, mat Oh, ma! I'll never
see ye agin!"
The stalwart mountaineer dashed the
gay handkerchief under the lied, and
kneeling beside his son, cradled him in
his arms as if lie were a baby.
"Thar, now; tliar, now; don't ye take
liit so ter heart. Ye'll git well en see her
yit. l'ap'll nuss his boy tell he sees her.
Don't! don't, my Jackie, my baby! Oh,
my laird!" lie moaned in sudden terror
at his helplessness to comfort. The un
happy father's tears mingled with his
son's, and he vainly strove to dry them
in his blue checked handkerchief.
The friendly jailer's eyes iilied, and his
throat swelled, and fearing he might be
swept away in the sea of woe, he hastily
retreated to the door, and nearly knocked
over the doctor, who was entering.
"What is the matter," said he. "Come,
come, this won't do!"
"He won't hush," said the father. "Ef
his ma was only hyar ter nuss him he'd
do better."
"Well, he must get well and go to her.
Here's something that will cure him fast
er than all my medicine," and the doctor
held up the paper. "See, the judge has
sent you a release," and he read it aloud.
"Now, Bigby, you must get well, so you
can travel."
"I'll never get well in hyar," said the
prisoner, trying to stay his sobs. "All I
crave is a leetle sunshine en fresh a'r."
"Well, you shall have it just as soon
as you can travel."
"Pap, ye say the sun's a shinin' out
side?" said tho prisoner.
"Well, hit's a-shinin' right smart,"
said Mr. Bigby, winking the tears off his
eyelashes. "Yes." said lie, qualifying,
as it were, his assertion, "I mought say
hit's a-shinin' right peart."
"En hit's a-gittin' warm, hain't hit?"
asked he. "Spring's a-comin', hain't it?"
"Spring's a coiuin' oh," assented Mr.
Bigby. "The snow's done melted and
gone, the peach trees air a-bloomin', the
buds o' the eliums en the willows air
a-swellin', the red buds en maples air
a-bloomin', the hoes air a-playiu' in the
sun afore the'rgums, en the young culves
air a-bleatin' in yander pastur'," lie said,
adding bit by hit to the rural picture as
his son's hungry eyes seemed to devout
him. "The jaybirds air beginnin' tei
sing, en soon the voice o' the turtle will
be liekred in the land," he concluded.
"Then I'll gu," said Jack, homesick foi
a sight of what his father had told him.
"It will he a great risk," said the doc
tor.
"Well, I'll risk hit. What's the use o'
dyin". like a rat in a hole, in this hyei
jail?" said the prisoner.
"It is almost certain death to venture,"
insisted the doctor. "Wait till you get
a little better."
"Ef I mus' die, lcmme die at home,"
cried Jack. " 'Pears like I could die
easier thar."
Seeing that he was determined to go,
the doctor ceased to urge him. "Have
you the means to take him home?" he
asked the father, who had arisen and
seated himself on the side of the hunk.
"Well, yes," said the old man, "I sold
my critter afore leaviu' home ter git the
money ter come hyar on."
"If you sold your horse, how are you
going to make your crop?" asked the
friendly jailer.
"Well," saiil Mr. Bigby, undaunted by
the dismal prospect alieud, "I thought as
how I'd sell niv cow en calf, alter Jack
is well liulf to do 'thaut the milk, en buy
a steer. Only lcmme git him back tei
his ma in the mountains en we'll scratch
'long somehow."
The sun shone bright and warm; the
air was sweet and balmy; spring was
coming fast, and April seemed to have
hastened along the road to meet March
ami strewed a few of her days in his
calendar. The sun beamed into the cai
whore Jack Bigby lay on twos its, ap
patently half asleep. For the first hall
of the journey the excitement, the
change, the thought of home, had kept
him up.
"The sun—t.ie a'r," he cried, delight
edly, "hit's powerful good, pap!"
"Hit's mighty peart," said the old
man, sympathetically.
But now, his little strength exhausted,
Jack lay in a state of collapse that hit
father mistook for sleep, with the sun
shining full into his face, though he did
not seem to know it.
"Wake up, Jackie," said old Bigby,
cheerfully. "We air outer Canton now,
en gwine in ennong the mountains. Look
at 'em."
The sick man roused up, and with his
father's assistance raised himself so astc
look out of the window. As far as the
eye could reach range after range o(
mountains met the view rising one above
the other. The invalid gazed upon them
as if he could never get his fill and
drank in the mount..in air as if it was an
elixir.
"Thar, thar, Jacl.ie," said his father 1
"I'm afeard you'll cotch cole."
"The sight er the n is good for sort
eyes," said tho re'ea -ed prisoner. And
language could go no further in his case.
Old Bigby laughed. "What'll ye say
when ye see Bald face, en thet thar big
pine thet's growd on the tip top er hit
war we use ter go a coon huntin'?"
"Ef ever I gets able ter climb up thar,
I'll never wan ter come down again," said
Jack.
Again his father laughed. "Is thet
thar ole pine all ye're hankerin' urtcr,
sonny?" ho asked.
"In course I wanter see ma and the
gals," said the tick man. "When I see
ma agin I"—his voice failed him and he
broke down.
"Thar, thar," said the old man hastily,
"don't bother 'bout ma en the gais—not
but what they'll hev' er shout en go
roun' when they see ye. Lie down en
res' now."
He laid his son back on the seat, and
Jack wearily closed his eyes and seemed
to sleep. Absorbed with his unaccus
tomed surroundings old Bigby did not
notice his heavy breathing, which was
deadened by the noise of tho train. At
last, glancing out the window, familiar
objects came in view.
"Jackie," said the old man, "Jackie,
wake tip, honey. Thar's old lialdfaee.
Look up. En thar's yan pine."
The sick man unclosed his eyes, hut
they wore a strange look. "I see no
pine," he said feebly.
Old Bigby grew frightened. He passed
his arms around his son and lifted liiiu
by main force; terror gave liiui strength.
"Look, look," iie cried anxiously.
But his son's head fell hack against his
shoulder, the cool mountain breeze played
witli his hair, the sunshine beamed in
his face, hut the dying mountaineer saw
nothing. In vain his glazing eyes turned
toward the distant mountains.
"1 kamt see hit," said he feebly, "I'm
going fas'. Bury me on top er ole Bald
face, pap, yander pine—thar I'll sleep
free forever."
llis struggling breath ceased. No more
his darkening eyes could see the sun for
which lie so craved. Thet judge's sus
pended sentence now availed him naught.
Summoned before a greater judge, the
moonshiner was free.—Paul Grant in At
lanta Constitution.
Slid Was Not Over Pretty.
Giles—What did your friend mean
when she said she was used to standing?
Surely she can't lie a saleslady.
Jennie--No, indeed. She meant that
Rhe rides in the elevated so much.—
Epoch.
MEMORY OF SNAKES.
The Shining Stone Which the Cobra Car
rie® to Attract Fireflies.
The cobrat are perhaps the only ser
pents which will eat insects. They feed
on ants, grasshoppers, a variety of bee
tles, etc., but seem to have a sjiecial pref
erence for fireflies, [lerhaps liecause the
latter can be caught at night much more
easily than any other kind of insect. I
iiave often for hours watched cobras in
the grass catching the fireflies, darting
about here and there, a process which
requires considerable exertion on the
part of the serpent. Now, every en
tomologist knows that the flying iam
pyrida; consists entirely of males. The
females, which are not very numerous,
are much larger and cannot fly, as they
have only rudimentary wings. They sit
quietly in the grass, emitting a greenish
light, which is much stronger than that
of the males, and fades and becomes
brilliant at regular intervals. If a glow
worm be watched for a time, a steady
current of male insects will be observed
flying towards it and alighting in close
proximity.
Now it so happens I hat the naja-kaliu,
this little pebble of chlorophaue or fluor
spar, emits in the dark a greenish light,
which is so much like that of the female
lampyris t hat it is an easy matter to de
ceive the male firefly with it by setting
it up as a decoy. The cobras have grad
ually come to take advantage of on ex
perience made by tliern, accidentally, I
dare say, thousands of years ago. It may
frequently happen, for instance, that a
cobra finds one of these shining stones in
the gravel of dry river beds (where they
are by no means uncommon), being at
tracted to it by its glow at night, and
taking it for a glowworm. It would,
then, at any rate, notice that the fire
flies could be caught much more easily
and quickly in the neighborhood of that
shining object than anywhere else, and
would habitually return to it. Several
cobras might thus come together, and
there would lie competition, and from
this moment to the finding out that suc
cess in capturing fireflies depends on the
possession of this phosphorescent pebble,
and to t lie seizing of it in order to pre
vent another snake monopolizing it, is,
in my opinion, no great step, and in
volves no exceptional powers of reason
ing. The cobra carries it about, and
soon learns to treasure it, for it affords
it an easy means of getting its living.
All it lias to do is to deposit the stone in
the grass at night, and the obliging in
sects literally fly down its throat.
There are even reasons for believing
that no individual experience is now
necessary to cause any cobra to act in
this manner, but that even a young co
bra, on finding such a stone, will in
stinctive ly take it tip and use it in the
manner 1 have described. For it must
he borne in mind that there is an inherit
ed raee in i iory among the lower ani
mal- which is often far stronger than
the i: gathered during the short
life tin the individual. What causes
a bl:n ;• i'li to spit and put up its hack
if ai! • .relight near it? It never saw
a dog. i !• saw anything, yet it knows
there • < • danger ahead. Thus the
accuinn:J ■ xperience of the cobra's
ancestor,- 'hiring countless generations
now caus: ; it to act in a manner which
we refer n> instinct.
Sucli ere the remarkable facts con
nected witli the nnjn-kallu, tho cobra's
shining stone. Who can tell whether
the old traditions ot snakes carrying
precious stones, of which we still find
traces in our fairy tales, may not have
their source in some such fact as this?—
Professor H. Hensoldt in Harper's,
Improved Dumbbell.
lit athletic exercise, which now plays
such a prominent part in hygienic cult,
the old notion of severe laborious ex
ertion at the outset lias been utterly ex
ploded, and modern science has decided
that light and very gradually increasing
tasks are productive of the best and most
lasting results. 11l dumbbells of the
usual construction the athlete must have
a large assortment of gradually increas
ing sizes, and unless a great many are
kept the transition to a heavier pair can
not be made iu the moderate gradation
that is advisable. To meet this contin
gency an improved dumbbell lias been
devised. It consists of two hollow wood
en shells through which the handle
passes. These halls can he the receivers
of a large or small quantity of sand or
shot as may he desired, and thus the
weight of the dumbbell can he graduated
with tlm greatest nicety.—New York
Commercial Advertiser.
The Cotton In the Air.
The players form a ring and join hands.
A small hit of jeweler's cotton or a light
feather is then thrown into the air, and
they try, hv blowing it upward, to keep
it from falling, if they blow too hard,
the cotton is driven away; if too gently,
it falls, and the game is finished, The
interest consists in directing it, if possi
ble, to one or other of the players, who
pays a forfeit if it falls before her. All
this must he done without letting go of
hands. The game may also he played
sitting round a table.—Ladies' Home
Journal.
No KxcurHioiiM in Cuba.
A friend of mine, piloting a party over
Cuba, applied to one of the railways for
a dozen tickets. He was told that as a
special favor he would he given the
tickets at regular tariff rates—"but,"
continued the officer, "hereafter when
you want to make tho trip we shall have
to chargo you extra rates when you
bring a party."
"Why so?" demanded my friend.
"Because," explained the officer, "so
large a party necessitates our putting on
another car."—Eugene Field in Chicago
News. _
A Distinction Without a Difference.
Auctioneer—And now. ladies and gen
tlemen, what hid do I hear for this mas
sive gold mounted Carrara marble Eiffel
tower movement mantel timepiece,worth
at the lowest, paltriest figure one hundred
—did I hear seventy-five dollars?
Man in the Crowd—l said Ave dollars.
Auctioneer Going going—gone!—
Jewelers' Review.
Why Some (.'heap Book* Do Not Sell.
"Since I have been in business I have
learned a great deal about the public
taote in reading matter," said a promi
nent newsdealer, "ami if the publishing
houses would follow the hints we could
give there would be fewer unsuccessful
books put upon the market.
"The paper covered novel lias been
very successful for some years, and now
there isn't a publisher in the country who
doesn't issue a 'series.' Inasmuch as sev
eral of these books are published every
day, of course very few attain a sale
of any consequence. In most cases this
is the fault of the book, but I could cite
instances where the failure was due to
cupidity or lack of foresight on the part
of the publisher.
"These novels sell for twenty-five or
fifty cents, according to the length. There
is no intermediate price. Some publish
ers, taking advantage of this, have pad
ded a twenty live cent novel and charged
fifty cents for it. This padding is all
done in the printing. Extra heavy paper
is used and the type is set in narrow
columns. The book seems to Contain a
good deal, but the purchaser soon sees
that he has been humbugged, and after
ward: always examines more than the
cover of the novel he buys. The wide
margin, so dear to the heart of the book
lover, is frowned upon by the novel
reader. Often when he opens such a
book in a hurry the wide margin gives
him the impression that it is 'poetry,'
and he drops it in a hurry. Nothing
could exceed in intensity the novel read
er's dislike to 'poetry.'"—New York
Evening Sun.
A Human Stone Eater.
At Avignon, France, in 1760, a human
Stone eater was on exhibition for some
time. He was not a "freak" or "fakir,"
but a real wild masticator of stones,
found on an island between Iceland and
the Swedish coast. Ho not only swal
lowed (lints an inch or more in length,
but reduced marbles, small pebbles and
other rocks to a powder with his power
ful teeth. Royal society physicians ex
amined him and found his gullet very
large and his saliva strong and.corro
sive. Ho would eat raw flesh with the
stones, but could not be prevailed upon
to swallow bread or other victuals. He
would drink water, but much preferred
brandy, and while under the influence
of the liquor required twice his usual
amount of stony food. When not eating
or sleeping lie smoked continually, sit
ting with one leg over the other, giving
no heed to those passing around him.
The flints lie swallowed were, when
voided, corroded and much diminished
in weight, the rest of the excrement re
sembling pure mortar. He never learned
to pronounce but a few words and soon
died.—St. Louis Republic.
"For Kent."
Says a La Sulle street agent: "I am
going to make an innovation which 1
think renters will appreciate. lam go
ing to have all the houses and flats for
which lam agent photographed. These
photographs will lie in my office. They
will give the applicant some sort of an
idea of the premises before be goes tc
make an investigation. Wherever 1
have a bouse or flat for rent I will ar
range to have the key to the premises
convenient and will pay the man who
keeps the key a percentage of the tirst
month's rent to answer all questions re
garding the premises. A man who rents
a house to live in has some rights. The
time is about at hand when the unac
commodating landlord who cares for
nothing but bis rental will have to adopt
some other business. The old fashioned
house and ii.il must give way pretty
soon. There is too much in the way of
modern improvements for the old style
houses.''—Chicago Tribune.
Greeley us a Farmer.
When Mr. Greeley lived at Cliappaqua
lie wrote his celebrated book on farming,
and insisted that his friend Jones should
purchase a farm adjacent to his own.
When lie had ceased picturing the de
lights anu advantages of such a resi
dence, Mr. Jones asked him what lie had
raised that year.
"Well." said Mr. Greeley, "I had a
good crop of hay."
"That is encouraging," said Mr. Jones.
"1 suppose you realized a profit from it,"
"Not a great profit," was the answer.
"You see i had flic hay cured and got it
into the barn all right before the rain
came, but that did not save it."
"How was that?"
"There wasn't any roof on the liarn!"
—Harper's Weekly.
The I'se of Antonie.
A woman of ordinary intelligence
ought to know without being told that
arsenical toilet preparations are danger
ous to the health, and yet not'a week
passes that I am not in receipt of letters,
most of them showing thought and abil
ity, asking me to recommend some cos
metic for the elimination of pimples, and
requesting to bo told if arsenic is as safe
for an internal medicine as it is for a
complexion wash. These correspondents
know that arsenic is a deadly poison, and
yet ttiey talk about its use as if it were
the simplest and safest drug in the world.
Arsenical doses will put an end to pim
ples, and, what is more, an end to the
life of the person using them.—Eleanor
Kirk in Atlanta Constitution.
A Magnificent Water Plant.
The leaves of the Victoria regina attain
a diameter of six feet. They are circu
lar, witli a raised rim like the rim of a
shallow tin pan, The largest flowers are
twenty-three inches across. They are
white, with a yellow center, and exhale
a wonderful perfume. Tiie stems and
leaves stretch out twenty foet from the
plant. A board lias been placed on one
of the floating leaves, and a child 6 years
of age has been sustained upon the board.
—Pittsburg Dispatch.
Should Ue Well Cared For.
Baboony Aw, that's awful! The
ideaw of a man smoking a pipe with a
silk hat on tho stweet!
Wiggins—That's so, Algy. Pipes with
silk hats ought to be carefully preserved
in museums.—Texas Sittings.
B. & B.
An Advantageous Trade.
It is to your advantage to trade with
us. You may not have thought so here
tofore. But here are a few points for
your consideration:
The assortments in the tifty-two depart
ments of these large stores is the largest.
The qualities are the best, as we handle
no low grade, trashy goods, and
The prices are reliable, lust and lowest
—always the lowest.
We want you to hold us to a strict ac
counting for all these claims.
SILKS
At 90 cents, 34 inch, extra quality Black
Gros Grain Dress Silks. You may think
it strange that we claim these Silks are
equal in quality to most $1.15 and #1.38
ones. But compare them.
At 75 cents
100 pieces Colored I'egence Silks, the
new aud most popular weave in all the
new Spring colors. We claim the iu
triusic value of this special bargain is
#1 25 per yard. Get a sample of it also.
Colored Silk Wrap Cashmers, 40 inches
wide, in large range of colors, at 75 cents
—dollar quality.
100 pieces 40 inch Colored Mohairs, the
most desirable fabric at present, 50 cents
a yard. All colors, and grey ana brown
mixtures. Noue better sold anywhere at
65 cents.
It interested at all in Silks, write for a
sample of our special value 34 inch Black
Surahs at 75 cents. We had to buy a very
large lot to get them to sell at this price,
hut will sell you as many or few yards as
you like.
Catalogue free. Mail order business
given very best attention.
HOGGS & BUHL,
11) to 11!) federal St.,
ALLEGHENY, Pi.
OUF.
Mailorder
Department,
Has the very best facilities for handling
great quantities of Dry Goods. It reaches
every State and most counties of the
Union Its pa'ticuar field is the western
half of Pennsylvania all of West Virginia.
Ohio, and a constantly growing territory
South and West in all states.
Our stock of Dry Goods of every de
scription is complete, and our prices are
the lowest possible. Other large stores
do not (if they can) and small stares can
net (if fliey would) sell goods ut as low
prices.
BLACK SILKS.
Of every sort at very low prices. Every
piece was bought before the advance in
the price of silk. The same qualities
where anything like a complete variety is
found will cost 25 per cent, more than
out' silks cost you. Wherc-will you buy ?
Black Surahs 45 cents a yard, 50 cents,
05 cents and upward. A special 34 inch
Sutali at SI.OO a yard, worth $1.35.
Gros Gtains at 60 cents and upward.
A3l iuch Gros Grain at 05 cents avar l,
that cauuot possibly he sold, if perfect, for
a cent less, except at a loss. It is worth
every penny of one dollar atul fifteen
cents. Equally good bargain in Black
Gros Grain Silks at SI.OO and $1.35.
Black Faille Fraucuissc at 85 cents and
upwatd, and the best 34 inch Faille ever
sold at $1 00, #1.35 and $1.50 a yard.
27 it.eh Black India Silks at 75 cents,
SI.OO, $1.15 to $1.50 a yard.
All other Silks and Dress Goods in
largest quantities at lowest prices.
Samples cheerfully sent upon request to
any address.
JOS. HOKNE Si CO.,
GO!)-621 Penu Avenue,
PITTSBURGH, PA.
DiTWMTC obtained for mccuani aide-
I At bll i O Vices, medical orottier com
pounds, ornamental designs, trade-marks' and
labels, caveats, Assignments, Interferences
Appeals, suits for Infringement, and alt cases
arising under the PATENT LAWS, promp
ly attended to.
INVENTIONS TLAT HAVE BEEN
DP TPfTPD b.v the Patent Office may
ItCuGiul Juil still.inmost i-ases. be pat
ented by its. Being opposite the Patent oniee,
we can make closer searches, and secure Patents
mere promptly, and with broader claims, than
t hose who are remote from Washington.
INVKNTfIDC send us a model or
111 V Civ 1 lifts sketch of your device;
we make 6xumlnauoiis/>ve of chtirye. and advise
as to patentability. All correspondence strictly
confidential. Prices low, and NO CHARGE UN
LESS PATENT IS SECURED.
We refer to officials in t lie Patent Office, to our
clients In every State ot the union,and tojour
senator and Keprcsentatlve In congress, special
references given when desired. Address.
C. A. SNOW A CO.,
opposite Patent office. Washington. I). C.
IH WAATED ill SALARY
To reliable men we will give steady employment
and a LIBERAL SALARY paying their traveling
expenses. We grow our own stock exclusively
and GUARANTEE it to be strictly first-class lit
every particular, true to name as ordered. Pull
Instructions furnished. Experience unnecessary.
Apply at once, stating agr. Address E. c. PKIK
SON ,v CO.. Manic Grove Nurseries, Waterloo,
N. V. (Established over CO years.)
BONE MEALIS'FI
Beef Scraps, send for new price list. YORK
CHEMICAL WORKS, YORK. PA.