SUNSET ON
Down bolind the western hill the red sun
sinks to to re ¥
‘All the world js Weary, and I am weary, too.
Conf partridge seeks its coyert, and thu red-
bird seeks its nest.
And I am coming fram the flelds,dear heart,
to home and
Home, when the ayitint is waning ;
: Home when my toiling is done ;
Ah! down by the gate, sweet, watching
i eyes wait
' My coming at setting of sun.
The sheep from off the hillside haste to the
shepherd's fold,—
For death lurks in the mountains and dark-
ness comes apace.
The fleeing sun looks backward and turns
the sky to gold,
Then folds the mantle of the night across its
THE FARM.
orimson face.
Home, when the daylight is Waning +
Home, when my toiling is done
Ah! down a by the gate, sweet, watching
cyes
My ne Bo at setting of sun.
Lay aside the hoe and spade, and put the
sickle bys
All the world is weary, and I am weary,
Gently des the rosy light from out the
‘western sky,
And Iam coming from the fields,
heart, to home and you.
Hyme, when the hs is waning ;
Home, when my toiling is done ;
Ah! down by the gate, sweet,
eyes wait
My coming at setting of sun.
dear
watching
—Arthur J. Burdick, in American BD realtRsiet:
et lbh fe te ll Pe Al fe fl BAM
The Other Girl.
‘When I arrived at the station Lady
Mannington, Molly and the French
maid had collected their chattels and
stood round the immense heap, in at-
titudes denoting various degrees of im-
patience. I apologized.
“It is of no consequence,” said
Lady Mannington, in a tone signifying
it was of the greatest. Molly shook
her head at me and smiled.
I looked at the two ‘ladies and the
French maid, and then Ilooked at the
miniature mountain.
“The brougham is only seated for
two,” I hinted.
“Celeste can walk, ’said Lady Man-
nington.
+1 shall be glad of her company,’ I
responded, politely.
Lady Mannington glanced at me
doubtfully. “Perhaps she could
manage by the coachman,” she sug-
gested.
“His wife is most particular,” T in-
terposed, quickly.
‘I should prefer to walk, mamma,’
said Molly, with an air of ‘much nea
nature.
“Perhaps that will be best,” Lady
Mannington conceded, reluctantly.
**f am sureof it,” I 'indor sed, heart-
“If only your aunt had sent the
omnibus’’—Lady Mannington began,
aggrievedly.
“It was most careless of her,” T ad-
mitted instantly. I caught Molly's
eye. She has a curious way of smil-
ing at nothing.
So Molly oe I started to walk over
the crip snow. Just outside the sta-
tion I helped her over the stile. ‘‘We
may as well take the short cut,” I ob-
served; ‘it is not so very much
longer, and I have so much to say to
you.” |
“What about?’ asked Molly. i
I hesitated. ‘It is about a friend |
"of mine,”’'I replied at length.
; “Oh!”
“He is in the deuce of a mess,” I
began, confidentially. ‘I want your
help.” ;
‘““What can I do?” asked Molly,
opening her eyes.
‘You canadvise me,”
ing courage. ‘‘A woman’s wit
Molly was pleased. ‘‘Go on,
- Trevor.”
“I fear you will think my friend
particularly foolish,”” I said, sorrow-
fully.
“Very likely,” replied Molly, indif-
ferently.
“I assure you he has many good
points; but it happened a girl wanted
to marry him.”
“What!” exclaimed Molly.
““T can’t think what she saw in him,’’
I replied, uncomfortably.
“I hope,” said Molly, ‘‘you are not
going to tell me anything that is not
proper.’
‘Oh, no,’ Ireplied,eidrnestly. “The
girl was quite respectable. ‘Al the
‘parties are most respectable,”
“She could not have Been quite
nice,’’ said Molly, decisively.
I stopped to test the strength of the
ice over a pool.
“I have seen her look quite nice,” I
remarked, thoughtfully.
“You know her?”
quickly.
“Oh, yes.
I replied, tak-
3
Mr.
asked Molly,
It wasn't really the girl
who wanted to marry my friend; it
was her mother. 1 mean the mother
wanted the girl to marry my friend. 1
hope I make myself clear.”
“1 don’t think that improves mat-
ters,’’ retorfed Molly.
“She hag a large family of
ters,” I explained.
“Go on,” said Molly, with a severe-
ly judicial air.
“My friend was in love with shother
girl—a really nice girl. In fact,
quite splendid girl. One of the v ar
best,” I said, kindling.
“You know that girl,
Molly, a little coldly.
‘‘Ye-es.”
“Well?” /
“My friend ‘was staying at a coun-
try house and so were both the girl and
her mother, and she-——"
“Who?” ‘asked. Molly.
“The girl w hose mother wanted her
to marry him. Ido hope I am clear.
She got him into a quiet corner and
somehow or other my friend found out
she had hold of his hand. TI-—I don’t
know how it happened. It just oc-
curred.” :
“How clever of your friend to find
it out,” said Molly, sarcastically.
"I went on hastily—‘‘And then he
saw her head coming nearer and near-
er his shoulder, and he didn’t know
what to do”
oiSeT wonder, said Molly, ‘‘he did not
oa) for help.”
“You see,” 1 went on, ‘he was
~ afraid she would propose or-—or—the
He guessed the
was, pretty near. . Then he
thot nght of the other gil, nd he got
~ into.a dreadful panic. Sh ct, he lost
hig head.”
could not have hoon a great
Sbacteed Molly, disdainfully.
daugh-
too?” asked
13)
‘was the only one he
sesustoned f to it. He
b
b
didn’t know what to do. So he said
he was already engaged.”
“Did he say ‘already? ”’
“Yes.”” It was a cold day, butI
mopped my brow with my handker-
chief.
Molly uttered a peal of silvery
laughter. ‘‘I am really sorry for that
girl, but it served her right.”
“The girl didn’t turn a hair. She
simply straightened herself up and
asked to whom he was engaged.”
€é ‘Well?’
‘‘He blurted otit the name of the
other girl. - He couldn’t think of any
other name.’
*‘T'o whom, of course, he is not en-
gaged?’
‘No; and I don’t suppese she would
have-him. She is far, far too good for
him.”
‘Is that your whole story?”
‘““Very nearly. The girl went away
and told her mother, who came up
gushinglyand c¢ongratulated him. She
is a true sportswoman. Afterward she
went about telling everybody of the
engagement, and my friend has had to
receive congratulations ever since.”
“How awkward!” said Molly, medi-
tatively. ‘“Has the other girl heard of
it?”
‘Not yet.
terday.”
“Yesterday?”
T nodded. ‘‘And the worst is the
other girl is expected to arrive at the
Towers almost immediately.”
“Dear me,” said Molly. ‘‘So your
friend is at the Towers now?’
“I didn’t mean to let it out,” I re-.
plied, a trifle abashed.
Molly began to laugh.
amusing; but why did
about it?”
“I want your advice.”
“Who is the other
Molly, curiously.
‘‘Please don’t ask for names,
This all happened yes-
“It is most
you tell me
girl?’ asked
” 1 im-
plored.
‘‘But my advice must depend, on the
other girl’s disposition.”
*‘She is everything that is perfect,” |
| I replied, fervently.
“No doubt,” retorted Molly, satir-
ically.
: “You might almost be the other
girl yourself,” IT went on, with careful
carelessness.
“Really!” said Molly. ‘I believe
that must be contidored a compli-
ment. Thank you very much.”’
“What,” 1 asked, with elaborate in-
difference, “would you do if you were
the other girl?”
Molly stopped and broke off a sprig
of red berries. They were not so red
as her lips. “‘Of course,” she said,
‘I should be very annoyed."
“Ab, of course,” said I, forlornly.
‘At any rate, I should pretend to be |
very annoyed.”
‘‘But really——" I began, delighted.
“Ob, that would depend on the
man.
‘Supposing, for the sake of illustra-
tion,” said I surveying the wide ex--
panse of a, neighboring field, “I was
the man?” :
“This is nonsense,’ said Molly.
‘“We can’} make believe to that ex-
tent.”
“Why ean’t we?’
“You would hever be so foolish.”
“But if
“Let us talk about something sen-
sible, ” said Molly, with decision.
‘‘But my poor friend is depending
on me for advice.”
She thought. “Of course your
friend must get away from the Tow-
ers before the other girl arrives.”
“You are quite clear he ought to
get away?” I asked, mournfully.
“There can be no doubt of that.
Just fancy everybody rushing to con-
gratulate the other girl and your friend
being present at the time. There
might be a dreadful scene.”
“I can picture it,” said I,repressing
a groan.
We had arvived at the entrance to
the avenue. I stopped’ and held out
my hand.
“Good by,” 1 said.
“What do you mean?’ she ex-
claimed.
“I= 1 am going away. TI am the
man.’
I do not think I am mistaken.
color faded slightly from her face.
‘‘And the other girl?’’ she queried,
faintly.
“You are the other girl.”
The red replaced the white. She
stood quite still, with her eyes bent
downward, and then she began to
trace figures in the snow with the toe
of her tiny boot.
‘‘Gtood by,” I repeated.
She looked up. ‘Of course, I am
very angry,’’ she said. And then she
smiled and held out her hand. T took
it humbly and forgot #0 relinquish it.
“Mamma will be getting anxious,”
she remarked. ‘‘We must hurry.”
an we did not hurry.—Pick-Me-
P.
The
Although Spanish women are sup-
posed to be smokers, one never sees a
woman smoking in public, except in
the EYPSY. quarters. di o
LUCK IN DISGUISE.
111-Guarded Speech Led on to the Oper- |.
ator’s Fortune.
It isn’t easy to tell when fate means
well by a mdn. © Some of her appar-
ently hardest knocks are all for the
vietim’s good.
He was a telegraph operator, and a
good one, but he wasn’t in favor with
the chief. In fact, the chief doesn’t
possess many friends among the
boys. He was disposed to be sharp
and quick with them, and telegraph
| operators are a sensitive lot.
There was a vacant room that hadn’t
been occupied for a long time and the
chief one day took possession of it as
a sort of private office. = The operator
whose story we are telling didn’t know
about this change, and that very day
when he happened to be in the wash
room with one of the boys he opened
up on the chief in a particularly sav-
age fashion. The washroom was sep-
arated by the thinnest kind of parti- |
tion and every word could be heard
distinctly on the other side. The oper-
ator dipped his his face over the wash
basin and as he sputtered and
splashed he blessed the chief ina
shockingly left-handed way. The man
with him triéd to stop the tirade, but
he couldn’t catch his eye,nor could he
get near enough to him in time to
shake him. Finally the other man ex-
hausted himself and turned around
with a towel in his hands. Then he
saw the look of horror on his com-
panion’s face. He knew that he was
doomed. «tks
As he stepped from the washroom
with a jaunty air he met the chief.
‘I suppose,” said the latter, ‘you
are ready to express your personal
opinions in public as well as behind
your vietim’s back ?”’
The operator never wavered a hair’s
breadth.
““T am,” he said, smilingly; ‘‘and I
can add a little to what I have already
said.”” And with that he expressed his
opinion of the chief in still more vig-
orous language, took his hat and
stalked out.
It vas the first time that he had’
been an idler since lie was a boy. He
felt a little dazed. Then he. resolved
on a bold Stroke. He would go straight
‘to New York.
That night he was on his way. With-
in a week he had secured an excellent
situation; Today he commands a sal-
ary of atleast $6000.
“And I owe if all,”’ he said not long
ago to a Cleveland friend, ‘‘to the fact
that I fired myself ont of the old oper-
ator’sroom.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer,
QUAINT / AND CURIOUS,
. In 1897 Ohio furnished almost 37,-
000 tons of grindstones.
The common pond frog’s natural
lifetime is 12 to 15 years.
The coinage of a sovereign (about
$5) costs the English mint 3-4d (about
11-2 cents). :
There are parts of the Ganges val-
ley in India where the population
averages 1200 to the square mile.
The fastest flowing river in the world
is the Sutlej, in British India,
with a descent of 12,000 feet in 180
miles.
Iceland’s geysers never shoot their
water higher than 100 feet, whilesome
of our Yellowstone geysers go more
than three times as high.
The only surviving ' daughter of John
Brown, of Harper's Ferry fame, is
living in a small town in California,
in nearly destitute circumstances. She
is a temperance advocate.
France has set up about three hun-
dred monuments to more or less dis-
tinguished Frenchmen during the last
twenty-five years, and there are now
127 committees collecting money for
more.
Wales is the richest part of Great
Britain in mineral wealth. England
produces annually about $10 to each
acre, Scotland a little less than $10,
the product of Wales amounts to over
$20 per acre.
A fibrous preparation of steel, made
in the same manner as -the so-called
‘mineral wool,” by passing an air
blast through molten steel, is coming
into use for cleansing, polishing, etc.,
instead of sandpaper.
In 1525, the year of the plague, so
great was ‘the gloom in England that
it has become known as ‘‘the stil
Christmas.” ‘‘The Christmas of the
Great Frost’ took place in 1739. The
Thames was frozen from bank to bank
and barbecues were held upon the ice.
The earliest mention of “liveries”
made “in history is in the reign of
King Pepin of France. This king
flourished about the year 750 A. D.,
and because of his diminutive size he
had bestowed upon him the rather dis-
respectful appellation of ‘‘Pepin the
Short.” ;
A chewing apparatus for people who
have lost their teeth and do not care
to wear false ones has just been in-
vented by a Frenchman. The food to
be chewed is placed between the blades,
which are opened and closed three or
four times, and the food is thus re-
duced to a’state of pulp.
A Plant's Curious Habit.
A curious fact is the tobacco plant’s
habit of erecting its leaves at sundown
and dropping them at sunrise. Of
course it is only possible while the
plant is immature—while the upper
leaves are not more than two-thirds
developed—but it is so marked as to
"make a wide difference in the looks of
a field at evening and 12 hours later.
And the results are so beneficent as
to make it seem the result of reason,
for if the dewfall is heavy it “all runs
down to the stalk, trickles down to
1 the root and thus Tortifies” it against
the blazing sun; While, if the leaves
remained in pendulous spread, the
moisture would either drop from their
points beyond reach or else svapotate
in the morning sun, ~~ Ei
Cashmere Again Popular.
Cashmere is perhaps of all dress
goods considered the smartest, but
until this moment it has been undeni-
ably too light for heavy winter weather.
- The Muscovite species is nothing more
than the weave of cashmere worn in
winter in Russia, with a thick, woolly
inside facing that keeps up the heart
and the heat, while outside it is sim-
ply beautiful cashmere that pleases the
fastidioys eye.
Old Lady’s Cap.
The foundation for a well-shaped
cap is an oval of heavy-starched net
of grayish white. Over this the out-
side can be shirred.
For the outside cut a larger oval of
‘tarletan and gather with coarse thread
upon the foundation. A little ruffle of
tarletan finishes the edge.
The strings are hemstitched and
hang from the sides of the cap. The
top is set off with a bow of ribbon in
3 lilac, pink or black.
Tulle a Rival of Straw.
Tulle will prove a strong rival of
straw during the early part of the
coming season. The most novel ways
of using it are not in quillings or
puffs, as last year, but in layers, one
over the other, until it is quite opaque,
and then it is either stretched smooth-
ly over a firm shape, or arranged in
the form of a beret, with the loose
edges of the tulle separate, like the
leaves of a book, and each one bordered
with extremely narrow satin ribbon or
a row of spangles.
She Trains Race Horses.
Miss Loretta Elliott of Orient, Me.,
is the owner of many fast horses which
she raised and trained herself in her
father’s stables. She is a well edu-
cated, cultivated young woman, and
the fact that she recently won a race
on the track at Pottsville, DMe., has
by no means taken from her popular-
ity. Shes an accomplished horse-
woman, and at the same time as sweet
and maidenly as she can be. The
horses love her and follow her round
like dogs.—New York Journal.
Responsible for Bird Slaughter.
The fashion which certain loud
women are trying to introduce, of
wearing a whole stuffed bird on their
bonnets, is probably the most vulgar
and offensive, even from the artistic
point of view, that has been foisted
into practice since the day of the Gre-
cian bend. There is no ornament so
becoming to a woman as her own
womanliness. . The fashion that is
making silence in our once tuneful
fields and woods, that is taking the
play of bright colors out of the air and
the road sides, that is letting loose on
the earth vast multitudes of destructive
insects, is a fashion based on cruelty
which is most unwomanly. Neither
men or women can afford to counten-
ance such a practice. It is a woman
who makes the murder, though it is
men who kill the birds for her. Take
those poor little dead creatures out of
your hat, madam, and the gunners
will stop their mischief soon enough.
—Brooklyn Eagle. 2
A Woman’s Watch,
They were sipping chocolate at a
down town fashionable cafe and talk-
ing of watches. And this is what was
said:
“I have carried my wateh for ten
years,” said the senior member of the
party, ‘‘and it has never cost me a
penny for repairs.”
*‘Mercy!” exclaimed another
“How do you manage it?”
“I took care of it. You know, men
are always making disagreeable re-
marks about women’s watches, and
when my husband gave me mine he
said it would probably be out of order
most of the time. And I just made
up my mind to show him there was
one woman in the world who knew
how to take care of a watch.”
‘‘But have you never lost or had it
stolen?”
‘“Never; I dropped it several times
at first, but it did not show any
marks.”
“But do the works never get out of
order?”
“The what?”
“The works “inside. Have
never broken the mainspring?’’
“I never looked inside.”
‘‘But how do you wind it?”
“I don’t wind it. That’s how I take
care of it and keep it nice.”
They all stared for a moment. Then
they said: ‘Oh, you clever thing!”’and
adjourned - sine = die.—Philadelphia
Times.
one,
you
Sleeves and Chokers.
The wrists of long sleeves are inya-
riably trimmed inside the slight flare
that covers about two inches of the
hand. The trimming is, however,con-
fined to the inside of this little funnel,
and is not allowed to fall over the
whole hand as it was last winter. A
little fan of plated silk and lace flaring
out from the slash on the back of the
sleeve at the wrist is a neat and popu-
lar way of trimming a cloth gown.
~ As for the very important choker —
that bit of a thing determines almost
‘as much as does the shape of the
| sleeve the smartness of the rig. The
collar is getting plainer and smoother
every month, the very latest one be-
ing of velvet or silk folded softly about
the throat, and pinned with round
jeweled clasps, with no bow at all.
When there is a bow it is a square one
in front, with a buckle, usually a huge
cravat affair, and often wifh long,
fringed ends. = If anything is put
about the top. of the choker it is a
small lappet, a shaped piece and not
a ruffle of lace, or a small turnover of
velvet or of fur, which stops on each
side of the front.
Tailor gowns and jacket rigs ave
completed with big cravat bows of
plaided silk or velvet, or with large
andivery handsome Asc sot scarfs pinned
mannishly about the throat and with
their long ends reaching to the waist.
They cost $4 or $5, and are no end
swagger,-as are also the same shaped
scarfs of red flannel which is worn
with golf and sporting rigs, with skat-
ing gowns of serge and cloth,’ or wit
heavy driving coats. :
The small knotted tight little four-
in-hand is the cravat worn after the
Ascot, and it may be a more elaborate
and feminine affair, with ends fringed
or plaited, or trimmed with puffings
of chiffon and lace ruffles.
Coats and capes of fur and velvet
are worn with a tight choker effect of
jewels, or with a velvet or lace scarf
with a big bow in front, the high ruf-
fled or ruched Medici flaring up about
the head above this arrangement.
Fashion Notes.
The newest Russian blouses have
pleated backs and triple fronts, the
latter resembling revers, showing the
same width at top and bottom.
Velvet ribbons, in widths varying
from a quarter of an inch to two inches,
are growing in popularity for belts,
trimming and millinery purposes.
Percales will be seen next season.
No end of pretty, odd designs will
make the goods unusually attractive,
and it will be used for shirt waists and
children’s dresses. 3
Damas glace and damas quadrille
are stylish silk fabries that will make
up into lovely waists, blouses and
gowns for next season’s wear. Baya-
dere effects may be had in damas.
Pretty new taffetas show pin stripes
and small checks on a light ground,
sprinkled with tiny Dresden and Pom-
padour buds and flowers. Ring de-
signs are seen on the newest taffetas.
Poplin barre is the name of a pretty
new dress fabric that will be worn in
spring and summer. It may be had
in a number of popular street shades
and will prove an excellent wearer.
Tobacco, cocoa and.¢apueine browns
are favorite shades. Blue, showing a
gray tinge, is popular across the
water, and indigo, prunelle and deep
violet are stylish colors for this sea-
son.
Charming bodices for evening wear
are made up, sleeves and all, of gath-
ered mdusseline de soie frills, not
more than an-inch in width. Each
little frill is bordered with the narrow-
est comete ribbon, gathered into a
fairy frill. E
Two new shades of Russian green
are known as Kapock and Preabra-
jensky. Some of the new light greens
show’a yellow tone that is most effect-
ive. In reds, the scarlet,old rose and
geranium shades are seen much in
Paris and Berlin.
Dress goods showing braided effec ts
are exceedingly popular. On colored
grounds the designs are black, in
wavy or soutache effects. / The mate-
rial is an all wool satin finish. The
favorite grounds are brown, green,
heliotrope, blue and red.
Light, tissue materials in medium
qualities will be in demand another
season. Chiffons, gauzes, nets, Lib-
erty silk and mousselines in endless
variety of clororing will soon be seenin
the stores, and for evening wear will
prove both satisfactory and stylish.
Novelties in neckwear are seen at
the largest stores. Long scarfs of
gauze and muslin are to be worn, ty-
ing in a bow under the chin, with the
ends hanging loose to the waist. The
ends of the scarf show machine stitch-
ing, a lace ruffle or lace braid applique
in scroll patterns.
Some of the latest skirts for ball
and reception gowns are of moire an-
tiqgue and moire velours, showing
pleatings of lace set on to the height
of the knee. Skirts and waists of
silk are both much trimmed, and show
a great deal of insertion, in the same
or in contrasting shades.
In Paris, among the new color com-
binations in plaids, are seen fine lines
of dark shades appearing on lighter
grounds, Gray is seen on back-
grounds of light blue, white,pale pink
and heliotrope. A novel plaid showed
threads of dark blue in combination
with bright green, red, white and clear
yellow.
Jackets of black cioth are more sty-
lish than any of the colored cloths. In
the latter,pale gray is worn more than
any other. Elegant carriage jackets
are of green~and lilac cloth, tailor
made, Persian lamb is the favorite
trimming for collars, cuffs and re-
vers,and-after the lamb comes marten,
mink and sable, i
Y3simple matter,
"SCIENTIFIC SCRAPS.
A full-grown-man exhales 17 ounces
of carbonic acid gas every twenty-four
hours,
From 140 pounds of gas tar in a ton
of coal over 2000 distinct shades of
aniline dyes are made.
A new discovered spot on the sun,
which is visible just now, is said to be
30,000 miles in diameter.
Astronomers tell us that in our solar
system there are at least seventeen
million comets of all sizes.
The difference between the tallest
and shortest races in the world is one
foot 4 1-2 inchesand the average height
is five feet 5 1-2 inches.
The lake of Urania, in Persia, con-
tains more salt than the Dead sea,
which holds twenty-six per cent., or
eight times as much as the ocean.
Singers, actors and public speakers,
since the introduction of the electrie
light, have less trouble with their
voices, and are less likely to catch cold,
their throats are not so parched, and
they feel better. This is due to the
air not being vitiated and the temper-
ature more even.
" Many persons are desperately afraid
of night air, and so shut themselves
nto close rooms and breath an atmos-
phere poisoned by human exhalations.
[t is well to avoid draughts, but night °
iir, as Florence Nightingale put it, is
ihe only air we have at night, and it is
nuch wholesomer pure than impure.
In Berlin the firemen wear water-
ackets, with a double skin, which they
{are able to fill with water from the
i aose.
If the space between the two
ayers becomed overfitled, the water
scapes through a valve at the top of
‘he helmet, and flows down over the
ireman, like a cascade, protecting him
ioubly.
M. Forel, in his excellent work on
nts, has pointed out that very young
nts devote themselves at first to the
are of the larve and pupa, and that
‘hey take no share in the defence of
‘he nest or other out-of-door work
intil they are some days old. This
seems natural, because their first skin
's comparatively soft; and it would
aot be well for them to undertake
rough work or run into danger until
their armor had had time to harden.
Soiled Glasses Dangerous.
The oculist expresses himself very
amphatically on the amount of dam-
age that is done to the eyes of the
community from negligence in a very
that of keeping. their
spectacles and eyeglasses clean. He
says: ‘I am shocked to see the num-
ber of persons, intelligent men and
women, who should know better, who
spend their lives behind grimy eye-
glasses. Lawyers, writers, students,
schoolgirls and schoolboys, and eye-
taxers of various sorts who use eye-
glasses rqrely use them clean. To keep
the pebbles in good wearing condition
they should be cleaned about once an
hour. Water is not so good a clean-
ing agent as alcohol, and a handker-
chief should give place to a piece of
tissue paper. Chamois is also useful,
and either is better than a linen hand-
kerchief. The amount of injury done
to the world’s eyesight through cloudy
glasses is almost incalcuable.’
Another authority says thatif alcohol
is not at hand, the glasses should be
placed in a washbowl and sonked with
warm water. Then they should be
washed with soap and rubbed with a
soft nail brush. Afterward theyshould
be polished with tooth powder and re-
ceive a final rub with tissue. A few
drops of ammonia may be added to the
water in which the glasses are soaked.
An optician who has the patronage
of many of the lorgnette sex declares
that he has customers who come to
him and demand that their glasses be
changed, saying they cannot see.
through them. ‘‘The only trouble i:
that the lenses need washing,” says
the optician, ‘‘and all they usually get
is polishing witha chamois leather.”
Jew tlers’ Review.
How It Feels to Fall From a Height,
F. R. Richmond, the architect, is
now able to be in his office, but his
thigh, which was broken close to the
hip by a fall September 1, is stil
weak, and he has a painful stiffness of
the knee, which, however, will prob:
ably not be permanent. The effects
of his many severe cuts and bruises
have disappeared. Mr.’ Richmong¢
fell thirty-five feet, with nothing tc
hinder his flight, and landed on s
lumber pile. He was on the roof of
the Hooker schoolhouse and wished
to get down on a. staging just unde:
the eaves ‘to look at a cornice. Tc
swing himself down he caught hold of »
a rope reeved through a pulley block
As his weight came upon it the rope.
which was secured on the other side
of the block by a knot, pulled througl
and Mr, Richmond went hurtling
down.
In less than a second and a half he
reached the lumber pile, but during
that time he was able to think over the
facts in the case and do a little philos-
ophizing. “‘I felt myself falling,” he
said, ‘‘and reckoned from the distance
I had to go that I should probably be
killed. My mind worked clearly and
I did not lose consciousness, as 1
have heard men sometimes do in a fall
of that kind. I thought to myself,
‘Every man. must die sometime, and
this is probably the time for me.” 1
did not lose consciousness when 1
struck, but the thought came immedi-
ately: T'm prettygbadly hurt, but this
fall isn’t going to kill me.’ »_Spring-
field {Yuss. ) Republican.
A Long List.
7] have received nineteen proposals
in the last two months.”
‘You don’t say! What a large num.
ber of suitors you must have. Whom 2
were the proposals from?”
“One from Charlie and lighted
from that French count.” Judge.