AGE.
“The hoary head is a crown of glory.” —
Proverbs xvi.,
Is the best of life. the gold that our youth
is said to hold?
Is the preface to be chosen, or the story
that is told?
It is better, so it seems, to have wakened
rom the dreams,
To have seen the glamor passing, while it
left the truer gleams ;
To have learned that always peace gives
etty cares relea:
Huston all the idle ining ‘bids the fretting
troubles cease.
Bettér, thus, with folded hands, musing on
the falling sands,
Than to strive and strain and struggle—for
at last one understands
That the moving pen of Fame writes each
hour a newer name,
And the scroll of all the victors goes to
feed the fickle flame
It is best to cally gaze ‘down the pathway
was ; oF. the day
3
Strewn with withered wreaths of laurel,
lined with myrtles and with bays.
Snows of three score years and ten may
ake whi ite the heads of men,
3 hine of the summers sparkles
h ah, how
ell us of their gladness that has
K ir tears,
Of ed . the silent thief,
rows that were chief,
ght and laughter in their
red she af.
took the sor-
Teaving love and
lifetime’s
wge—the sun rays in the w ost: end of the
toil and quest:
With the eve ar that beckons on the
rosy road %
While a murmur ft and low brings the
songs you love and know-——
All the sweet and subtle measures of the
songs of long ago
Is the best of life the gold that our youth
is said to hold?
Is. .the nreface to be chosen, or the story
that is told?
—W. D Nesbit, in Chicago Tribune.
te te ote
ferfesfeste
erfeste stot sfestefetestote fetolofotetoolntofofofetefofol
sesfosteofeforfets
ro s% she +
Tejerte
FRANK LILLIE POLLOCK. x
Ix
THE HONEY THIEF.
*
»e
| oe
ese ide 2X
Sestesteaesfesiore
R Fe s¥e te stort 3 be $F sa ste atest
tejerte teste erjesfertetete teste sferfetedestefoofolol
For several years Lancaster and I
had been mana => a “ rather large
apiary in southern Ontario. In 1900
we tried the experiment of establish-
ing an “out-apiary” in the wild ‘coun-
try northeast of Toronto.
The forest had all been “lumbered
off” and the ground burned over, and
from the charred earth had sprung
miles of raspberry bushes and erim-
son fireweed, growing in an almost im-
penetrable tangle over and among.the
half-burned roots and legs and trunks.
All this furnished thousands of acres
of bloom, that lasted from June till
frost, and there were no bees to gather
the nectar.
The country was quite unsettled, and
we had to ship our bees by express
and then ‘haul them eight miles from
the railway over-a coduroy road; but
the experiment was a success from the
start. Out of our fifteen hives that
year we sold one hundred and twenty-
five dollags’ worth of beautiful comb-
honey. : .
We had now more than a’ hundred
hives on the spot, and this backwoods
apiary had become the larger half of
our business. We usually went up to-
gether in early spring to unpack the
bees, and then one of us camped near
the hives during the summer, to har-
vest the crop. It was generally Lan-
caster ‘who did this, for his manage-
ment had proved much more success-
ful than mine, although he disliked
camp life, cared nothing for the woods,
and took no interest in any plant that
did not produce honey. But he was a
born apiarist.
It wds near the end of July last year
when ‘I received an unexpected tele-
gram from him:
‘Apiary half-ruined.
¢ once.”
; I went up by the next train, much
“alarmed, and reached our station at
“about two o'clock. ‘As I walked over
“the ‘eight miles of logging road, I was
© much relieved to see that neither tor-
nado nor forest fire had passed that
way.
The apiary stood a long way back
from the road and tipon a gentle slope,
where we had cleared a little island
in the jungle of vines and weeks.
Everywhere else the ground was
tangled with the raspberry bushes and
the tall fireweed, now in glorious
bloom. .
As I came within but of our ranch,
I perceived my partner rushing fran-
tically about among the hives, and at
my first glance it seemed-to ‘me that
every colony must be swarming at
once. The air was clouded with bees.
Lancaster came running 40 meet me,
but I could make out little from his
sbreathless explanations. I put on an
- extra veil and gloves and went down
to the hives. The apiary was hardly
“half-ruined,” but the spectacle was
enough to depress any bee-keeper.
Ten or fifteen hives were upset,
smashed and splintered. ‘They had
been: tiered up three- or: fours supers
each, full of delicate. comb-honey,
which was crushed into a dripping
mass. Over the ruins crawled the
homeless bees, and wherever honey
had been spilled there was a seething
swarm of the. insects. They were furi-
ously excited, and pounced upon us as
s00n as we came near, but. y we had to
" disrégard stings.
Whenever ‘bees obtain’ access to
honey, thus ‘exposed, = they become
greatly excited over-the plunder, and
usually end ‘by. raiding. and - robbing
: one another's hives,
Lancaster had done what ‘he could,
but robbing was already going on
_ merriily. There was a pitched battle in
_ progress at the entrance ‘of almost
every "hive betw een ‘the bisoflants and
defenders. y
1 think‘that I never saw bees so in-
‘furtated. They attacked us in clouds
.when we aproached, clustered against
the veils, flew into the bane
smokers, tried to'craw] up our sleeve
. and trouser-legs, and stung ro
at everything they touched.
In spite of this opposition, we filled
up the entrances of the still starding
hive es with “Wet grass, Scraped up all
the Spilled honey and bits: of comb,
‘and in‘an hour=er+two the disturbance
was greatly "diminished. - Most of our
* own: bées-had ceased raiding, although
- still full .of wrath; but there were a
great many strange black bees, about,
that must have come from bee-trees
dn the woods. A gainst these we could
do nothing but wait for nightfall.
1 now demanded explanations of the
mishap, but to my" surprise’ ¥:found
that Lancastér could tell me little. Al}
he knew was that on rising that morn-
jng he had found the hives wrecked,
and had rushed on his bicycle to tele-
Come up at
He suspected that it
{| was the work of thieves, probabl
sonie camp party of roug
town, for we had no neighbors within
| four miles.
| We examined the wrecked hives
, carefully. A great deal of the honey
| and comb was missing.
the hives seemed to . have been
whenched or split apart, and th thin
section-boxes looked as if they had
been chewed. I already suspected the
identity of the robber, and when I
found claw marks across the boards I
felt sure I was right. There was only
one animal, wild or tame, that was
capable of such a feat—the honey-
loving bear.
Bears, as well as deer, were not un-
common thereabouts, but we had never
tried to find either. But now that
bruin had found us, it was certain
that he would return to renew so
sweet an acquaintance.
Lancaster had a double-barreled
shotgun in his tent, which I think he
had never fired. I took the bicycle,
rode four miles to the nearest settler’s
cabin, and borrowed his rifle with a
magazine full of cartridges. We de-
cided to lay an ambush that night.
Daylight lasts late in that latitude
and season, and at nine o'clock it was
hardly twilight. Some of the bees
were still flying about, not yet recov-
ered from their excitement. We se-
lected a screened nook on the hillside,
where we could overlook the whale
éstablishment, lay down in the middle
of a clump of weeds, and waited for
night. :
Darkness seemed mever coming.
Long before dusk had fallen a big
white moon rolled up over the burned
woods, flooding the wilderness with
clear light.
This illuminaticn kept the agitated
yees restless, and we could see them
hovering thickly about their en-
trances, while "thé homeless ones
crawled and buzzed over their ruined
hives.
I did not expect the bear to return,
if he came at all, before midnight.
Lancaster and I were both tired, and
-the night was warm. Soon I found
my eyelids drooping. Again and again
I roused myself and punched Lancas- .
ter with my elbow, but I must have
dozed, after all, althoug sh’ 1 never
:cemed to lose ~conscioliStiets of" the
dark trees and vines and’ the white
hives in the moonlight: ’
But suddenly, with a-shock of ex-
citement, became aware of a dark
object moving among. the hives. At
the first glimpse I took it for, a large
hog, but as my vision and by brain 4..
cleaved, I recognized the shuffling gait
and dark fur of our honey- -thief. .
Lancasfér was breathing heavily. I
put my hand over his’ mouth and
punched him, smothering ‘his startled
ejaculation. - The bear ‘had made a
leisurely inspection, sniffing at hive
after hive; till he, seemed to find one
that pleased him, ‘when he reared up
and clawed off the three supers with.
a single easy ‘gesture.
This Ҥight must have wrung Lan-
caster’s heart, for he jumped up and
jet fly one barrel of his shotgun. The
range was about fifty yards, and it is
not likely that he did much damage; A
but the bear made a leap aside and
stood glancing about uncertainly.
Fearing that he would get away,
sighted at his neck and fired.
The bear reared up and fell over
backward witih a snort] upsetting an-
‘other hive. "We both ran toward him;
and my companion; supposing him to
be done fer, ran up almost to arm’s
length .and, discharged. his other bar-
rel. He was so near that he missed
completely, and. blew ‘the side- out of
the next hive, whereupon he’ began to
belabor the sfruggling animal Over the
head with’ his’ glin- Ht ~~ -
I shrieked a’ warning. * The bear,
with an aggrieved yelp; clutched the |
gun-stock ir his teeth, ang 1 heard it
crunch like a shaving. Lancaster re-
coiled, astonished, and the bear man-
aged to regain his feet, and made @a*
lunge which my “partner barely es-
caped. Aeaved dgain and missed, and
Iancaster tock #o flight with the. ene-;
my in close pursuit. =
1 ran after them. The pear limped,
holding up one forefoot, but still dis-
played such agility that’ my fellow’
apiarist had all he could do to main-
tain his lead. e
Our cleared’ “space’ was only “about.
fifty yards" square.: TLamcaster. appar-
ently had set his ‘hea®t on reaching
a ‘large blackened . pine .. standing
among the bushes. He did;not seem
+o know that..a black. bear, climbs
trees with about the same facility as
a cat. He plunged into the tangled
! graph for help. it
i
The boards of |
| with a sort of moan.
weeds, tripped immediately, and went.
{ down out of
| howl.
|
|
sight with a terrified
I fired again and shouted to distract
the bear's attention. I think I missed,
but I turned him. He wheeled about
| and charged straight at me, obviously
| “mad clear through.”
{ I tried to aim coolly at the white
| mark on his chest, but the shot went
| wide. But for k the bear’s wound I
| never could have escaped. As it was,
! I just dodged his rush, and in my
| turn I made for the tree where Lan-
caster was already perched.
Cashmere Back Again.
Cashmere is back again with a
greater prestige than when it left.
It was full of stubby dead branches,
and as easy to climb as a ladder. Ii
was ‘stung on the
| clambered up,
| wildly fanning the air with his hands,
| but for the moment I was concerned
only to get my legs up and out of
| danger. 1 was obliged to drop the!
| rifle, but I got safely into the tree,
| and only realized the folly of my act
| when I saw the bear rise up against
the trunk to climb.
|
|
cheek as 1I|
and I saw Lancaster |
The bear’ tried hard to scramble up, |
but, to our unspeakable relief, he could |
not quite make it. His damaged fore
leg crippled him, and the tree was cov-
| ered with a crust of charcoal, which |
| ave him no clawhold. He persevered !
| {or a long time, and it was only after |
a score of futile experiments that he !
| gave it up and lay down in the bush-
es, alternately licking his wound and |
| glancing resentfully at us up above |
I" him. i
Meanwhile the
| companied us in
themselves upon our notice.
| us had lost our hats, and the insects
| had settled on our heads and faces
and necks, crawling about inquisitive- |
ly and stinging at every opportunity.
Lancaster suffered worse than I did,
for, unlike most bee-keepers, he had
never:become harnened to stings.
We could see the swarms on the
bear, too, but he was armored in hide
and hair. We tried to wrap our coats
about our heads, but it was not suc-
cessful. The venomous little crea- i
tures seemed to discover the smallest
loophole, and I had a dozen crawling
about under my clothing. I was in |
mortal terror of being stung in ‘the
eyes, but I contrived to protect them. |
The pain became agonizing; it was
almost unendurable. 1 smarted all
over from the scores Qf tiny poisoned
punctures, and the effect upon us of the
incessant attack was maddening, and
really beyond any possible descrip- |
tion. We could not move, We were
standing on short dead branches and
holding on to the charred trunk, and
it seemed that it could hardly be ;
worse to be clawed by the bear. There
was really, a certain danger that we
might be stung to death, and I began |
to feel a rising dizziness and nausea |
from the amount of poison I had
taken. I had to hold hard to avoid
falling.
“I can’t stand this!’”’ exclaimed Lan- |
caster. . “I’d rather fight the bear!” |
But I did not think that he really |
meant it.
There was no use in fighting the |!
bees. We could only cover and wait |
for the stings. |
“1 simply can’t stand this!” wailed
poor Lancaster, five minutes later; |
and the next moment he slid past me !
and jumped, wisely choosing the side ;
most remote from the bear. As he
struck the ground he stumbled and i
fell, and I expected to see him in- |
Stantly mangled. |
“The bear rose stifily but alertly. In- |
stead of Tthaking for his enemy, he |
stood ‘quite still, trembling violently,
it seemed to me, and shaking his head
Lancaster right-
ed himself and rushed off through the
.bushes toward the tent. But there
seemed no longer any danger. The
bear began to sway as he stood, and
slowly slipped to his knees, and ‘then
over upon his side.
I ventured ‘to ‘jump as Lancaster
had done. The animal paid no atten-
tion. With some trepidation 1 ven-
tured near enough to. regain my rifie,
and fired a heavy bullet into his. skull |
at close.range. But he did not stir,
and was no.doubt already dead.
We spent the night chiefly in apply-
ing hot water to our wounds. Ih spite
of these efforts we were a pair of ter-
“rible ‘objects the next morning, but
"the subsequent_pain was not nearly so
+ great, for some reason, as I have often
suffered from far fewer stings:
I was obliged: to stay in the woods
for a week before I again became pre-
sentable for civilized society.
When we came to examine the
stiffened corpse of the bear, we found
him lying in'a great pool of coagulat- i
ed blood. My first bullet appeared to
have cut a large vein or artery in
“his-shoulder, so that he had been slow-
‘ly bleeding to death as he kept guard
upon us under the tree. He was in poor
fur, and his skin was so smeared with
blood that 1t was not worth taking
ols From a sense of poetic justice
ve ate a few slices from his hams,
but the meat was tough. In fact, we
got little return from his carcass for
the hundred ‘dollars’ worth" of bees
‘and honey he ‘had destroyed. But the
“‘apiary remained undisturbed for the
rest: of that season. —Youth’s, Com-
-panion.
bees that has ac- |
our flight forced
Both of i
E
a <
; : Night Off.
~~: Prcfessor ..of ,Harvard, &is
much interested in epilepsy in its dif-
ferent forms. During a summer §o-
old’ woman with epilepsy who had
lived to the age of seventy-nine years.
Curious to know the details of so un-
arsual a case, he interviewed the wid:
ower. Having ' inquired concerning
different symptoms, he proceeded,—
“Did she grind her teeth much at
“night?” 2
The.old man considered for a moxi
ment and then replied, —
«wal, I dunno as she wore ‘em at
night.”—Lippincott’s.
: range of colors.
i good for them, says
' every possible and
journ in the mountains he heafd of amt
It has many qualities that adapt it
| to the present fashion—a highly fin-
ished surface, suppleness and a long
All the new tones
are, in fact, out in the old weave—
the American Beauty shades, the
pretty greens, of which almond, bronze
and lichen are most prominent, and
there is a generous touch of lace. Es-
pecially for the afternocn gowns, the
revived texture lends itself to attrac-
tive and economical costemes. For
simple home dresses, many cashmere
| skirts are being made to accompany
silk blouses that match them in shade.
—New York Sun.
Talk With Mothers.
Be kind to the dear little children.
If they are not perfect, neitlier are
you. Give them bright smiles, do lov.
ing deeds for them, reason patiently
so that they can understand that ev-
erything that they. want may not be
the Boston Sun-
day_ Globe. We are only children
i grown up, and often do what we ought
, not and leave the things we should
do undone, and want many things that
| are not good for us. Bright smiles,
cheerful words of praise, make us all
feel better. So give to ‘the dear little
children loving words. Praise them
in their attempts to do better. Teach
them to improve every minute. Do
i not nag, find fault:or make yourself
| disagreeable. ly
The Evening Gown.
This season’s evening gown will be
far more effective than ever, for the
law has been passed that women
shall: dress in the evening for the
theatre, restaurant, jor any public
place in gowns made exactly like ball
gowns, in 80: far as material and
trimming are concerned, the only’ dif-
| férence being that the waists are cut
high in the neck, not low. What an
, oppertunity is thus. furnished for® the
| using of rich.and rare fabrici!. Vel-
vets, laces, c¢hiffon cloth, and, in fact,
many impossible
in either plain or
most ™ elaborately embroidered and
braided. The lace gowns, black or
white, made up over colored linings,
are most exquisite ‘in texture, and al-
though it may take a connoisseur to
realize at first glance the value of
such a: gown, those who do appreciate
it” admire it, and the .wearer thereof
passesses a proud knowledge that she
has probably paid more for her gown
than’ anyone else, The very palest
shades of cloth and velvet and bright
shades, also, ‘of the chiffon or panne
velvet, embroider ed in colored stones,
with. applique of real lace, are not
i thought any too ¢lahorate and are
worn with hat to match. trimmed with
fedthers or flowers—as a rule with’the
very handsomest of ostrich feathers.
These costumes are most exqisite
and will certainly: attract no end of
attention.
fibries” are used
‘Baby's Clothes.
y: is It necessary for a baby to
wea Jong clothes? I know a boy six
‘months old who hag never worn long
‘clothes. He weizhs ‘nineteen pounds,
perfectly well and has an unusual
‘amount of strength, ;which I attribute
to “his never having had his limbs con-
fined, says a writer in Good House-
keeping: He ‘has ‘been able to kick to
his . heart's content Tight from the
first His dresses have been made
“ahout’ twenty, inches in length, his
skirts: some * shorter, of course. At
first. when he was in his bassinet the
most of the time he did not even wear
socks, but when he grew: older and
was ‘handled 1 more he ‘wore: thin wool-
en stockings and -socks’ The stock-
ings were always pinned to his dia-
pers, so his little legs were. covered,
and although he was a cold-
‘baby we had no difficulty in keeping
him warm. - A baby.blanket was al-
ways kept handy to throw over him
when h&' was taken out of his warm
crib. It was an experiment, but it has
‘proved most satisfactory, in every way.
The baby looked - like a doll in its
short dresses. - Some ‘people thought
a baby without lens clothes would be
no baby at all, .but more people
thought, it a good innovation. No more
long «clothes for this family, when
comfort for the baby is so well pro:
vided by short omnés. At any rate, it
is more than worth a trial. ¥
isc 9 . "
Mother Love in Japan. 3
Public demonstrations of affection
are most repugnant to.the good taste
of the Japanese, and it is the absence
of this whieh is So generally mistaken
for a lack of genuine feeling. Iire-
call one, man who was so devoted to
his mother (though I doubt whethe
hé could ever have been'said to hove
“talked about” her), that when she
died, while he was abroad, his depres
sion was so profound that my husband
watched him with anxiety lest he
should commit suicide, Phe stocial
training may render more uhsympa
thetic a coarse nature, but repression
to the refined soul brings an exquisite
capacity for pain scarcely conceivable:
‘by those who are free. to Eve utter-
ance’td every. emotion.
Another man said *té ‘me, “I rarely
speak of my mother, for a foreigner
does not understand that a Japaneso
mother may be just as dear to her son
as his to him, and by.the Japanese it
is not expected that one should utter
one’s deepest feeling.” That same son
fainted with grief when. his mother
died, and when consciousness returnea
rose to make light of a little dizzi-
ness,” without reference to its cause.
To this day, whenever he goes from
home, he carries with him his moth-
er’s letters, mounted on a beautiful
roll of ivory and brocade, and on the
anniversary of her passing beyond his
mortal ken quietly devotes a portion
of the day to meditation and special
thought of her: Ever ro his wife, de-
spite the closest bond of love, he says
not, “This is the day of my mother’s
death.”—The Outlook.
About the Light Fantastic.
Nothing is more graceful than a
young woman who can dance grace-
fully. Nothing is more awkward than
a woman who is not dainty about
dancing.
The woman who dances with her
nose pressed out of shape against her
partner's coat sleeve is not graceful.
The woman who dances with her chin
resting on his shoulder is no more at-
tractive. The woman who lays her
cheek lovingly against the man’s arm
is not good tc look upon. The wo-
man that permits a man to fling: her
across the dancing hall is not Jie
nor is sie graceful.
Women endure much at the hand of
(or in the arms of) the men with
whom they: dance. 'They-are gracious
and smiling when 2 man holds them
so closely that tacr can hardly
breathe. They endure the men who
chase Trp deny across the room with
them. They ake the best of the
men who rub i skin off the tips
of their noses on rough coats. They
even tolerate the men who plant gri-
my hands against the back;of the im-
maculate white waist, *
All this they tolerate in men be-
cause they are afraid of offending
them. The chances are that men
would be grateful to the girl who told
them in the rizht way that she didn’t
enjoy having her nose skinned, that
she could dispense with the wild rush
across the floor, that she did want to
keep her waist: back clean, and that
she liked a little freedom of move-
ment that she could dance easily.
Men want to learn; they are more
sensible and more generous about
suggestions of that kind than most
women believe.—Indianapolis News.
The American Wom2n.
The American woman is, above all
women in the world, clever—or, let
us say, “brainy,” to an almost incredi-
ble ‘height of braininess. She is ‘all
there.” She can take the measure of
a man in about 10 minutes and eclassi-
fy him as though he were a botanical
specimen. She realizes -all ‘his! limi-
tations, hig “notions,” and his special
and’ particular fads, and ‘she has the
uncommonly good sense not to expect
‘much of him.
She would not “take any” on the
lily-maid .of Astelat, the fair Elaine,
who spent her time in polishing the
shield of I.ancélot, and who finally
died of love for that most immoral
but fascinating Knight of the Round
Table. No, she wouldn't polish a
shield, you bet! She would make
Lancelot pelish it himself for ali he
is worth, and polish her own dear lit-
tle boots and ‘shoes for her into the
bargain. That is one‘of her secrets—
masterfulness—or, let us say, gueenli-
ness, which sounds better, The lord
of creation can.do nothing in the way
of ordering her about, because as the
lady of creation she expects to order
him about, and she does, She expects
to be worked for worshipped and gen-
erally attended to, and she gets Ber
way, * * *
Life does not run only in one chan-
nel ‘for the American woman." She
does not “make tracks” solely from
the cradle to the altar, from the altar
to the grave... She realizes that there
is more fun to be got out of being
born than just this little old measiire
meted out to her by the~
males’ of earliest barbaric periods,
wien women were yoked to the plow
with cattle. as they still are in some
parts of Switzerland. And it is the
innate ccnsciousness of her own pow-
er and intelligent ability that gives
her the dominating charm, the mag-
netic spell under which the stolid
Britisher falls more or less stricken,
stupefied and inert.
A really beautiful woman is scarce-
ly ever seen, even in Great Britain,
where average good looks are pleas-
antly . paramount. Prettiness—the
prettiness which is made up of a good
skin, bright eyes, soft and abundat
hair, and a supple figure—is quite or-
dinary. It .can be seen. every day
among barmaids, shop girls and milli-
ner’'s mannequins. Bur beauty—the
divine and subtle charm which enrap-
tures ail beholders—the perfect form,
united to the. perfect face in which
pure and noble thought is expressed in
every feature, in every glance of the
eye, in every smile that makes a
sweet mouth sweeter—this is what we
may search for through «all the isles
of Britain, aye, and through Europe
and America and the whole world be-
side, and seldom or never find it.—Ma-
rie Corelli, in the Bystander.
barbaric
! THE LAND OF “HERE INSERT.”
1
i “The Land of Hope” apd of “Pretty Soon,”
“The Land of the Never- to-be,’’
And “The Land, of Might” and “The Land
of Dreams”
Are worked to the limit, see?
And other varieties of strange lands
Have steadied the poet's spurt;
But I—I sing of whichever yon ghovse—
Of the Land of “Here Insert!
Ah, all of the dreams of youth come true
the land of (Here Insert!
The gir Is have eyes of a wonderful hue
In the land of (Here Insert!)
Never > sorrow .and never a pain,
Never a loss but always gain,
Ever the sun and never the rain
In the land of (Here Insert ! )
Faith is a fadeless plant that grows
In the land of (Here Insert!)
And lips make mock of the red rune rose
In the land of (Here Insert!)
And death sifts downward soft as sleep 7
On eyes that never have learned to wee
And fine dress patterns are sold quite ¢ leap
In the land of (Here Insert!)
And so, kind friends, ig vou happen to have
in
Just take the second and third of hese
Verses (easy as ty
And put the name of your gIihical land
Where it tells you to “Here Insert
—New Orleans Times- Democrat.
JUsT FOR FUN
oN
0 02) Ny
bo
Algy—It takes three generations to
make a gentleman, you know. Pene-
lope—What a chap you are for look-
ing ahead.—Life.
Owner (as automobile starts back-
ing down the hill)—Pull. everything
you can see, and put your foot’ on
everything else!—Punch.
“Were you ever in love, Edwin?”
“No, but I have a brother who’s had
measles an’ mumps an’ most every-
thing.”—Harper’'s Bazar.
© Lady—Oh, that big dog isn't the one
I advertised for. My dog was a little
fox terrier. Boy—Yes'm.. Your dog's
inside 0’ dis one! —Puck. « 1s
Teacher—Johnny, what is the most
effective way to punctuate a sentence?
Johnny—Depends on who's talking.
Pa usually swears.—Detroit Free Press.
“Jones is growlin’ at the . world
again.” “Why, 1 thought he was do-
ing well.” “So he is; but he wasn’t
expectin’ his good fortune!” —Atlanta
Constitution.
Miss Antique—Why have you always
remained single? Oldbach—Simply
from force of -habity I suppose. You
know—you know, I was born that
way.—Philadelphia Record.
Woman of the House—You're not
one of those labor agitators, are you?
Goodman Gonrong (with his mouth
full of pie)—No, ma'am, I'm. a rest
agitator.—Chicago Tribune.
Giles—So you've .got a place in
that banking house? 1 suppose’ it was
because you knew the president? Har-
ris—Partly that, and partly because
he didn’t know me.—Boston Tran-
script.
Cheich Havent seen - you at | the
theatre lately?! Got ham—Nb; ‘I'm lay-
ing the foundation for a fund which is
to be divided between the plumber and
the coal man this season. —Yonkers
Statesman.
The” Boss—D’m "afraid you are not
qualified for the position; you don’t
know anything atjout:, my business.
The ‘Applicant—Don’'t I, though? I
keep company with your fypeplier.—
Chicago Journal.
Amateur iolHeOIStL What's the
next piece on the program? Neighbor
—Sousin’s orchestral fantasia, “Night
Among the Pyramids.” A. V. (much
taken back)—*“Why, sir, I've just
played that.”—Punch.
Giffle—Bilkins got unmercifally
snubbed by that’ girl at the haber-
dashery counter. He went in and
called for a standing collar, smirked
at her— Spinks—Yes? Gifle—And
got a turndown.—Houston Chronicle.
Mainma— Fighting again, Willie?
‘Didn't I tell you to ‘stop ‘and count
one hundred whenever you ‘were an-
gry? Willie—But it ‘didnt do any
good, ma. Look what the jones boy
did while 1 counted!—Harper’s Bazar.
time for you to .be doing your share
of the world’s work? Son—I suppose
it is dad. If youll make-over to me
what you consider Jmy are of the
world’s surface I'll work it for all it’s
«worth.—Chicago Tribune. 1
Carry—Maude is such an original
girl! She “told me once i e wouldn't
marry the worst man in. the world.
Martha—I know; that ‘was the time
they thought §he w as going to marry
the ‘man who afterward became your
husband, dear.—Boston Transcript.
Clarence—Your valet went on a
stwike, did he? Bless my soul! I
hope you didn’t accede to his demands.
Claude—Pon m’ life, I hdd’ to, old
chap. The cunning cweatuah threat-
ened to leave me one morning when
I was half-dwessed.—Brooklyn Life.
“He’s boasting that he’s got a ‘sine-
cure,’. What does that mean?’ ’’ asked
Mrs. Browne. “Oh!” replied . Mrs.
Malaprop, “that means he thinks
everybody’s lookin’ at him. \Didn’t
you never hear tell of a person bein’
‘the sinecure of all eyes? Philadel
phia Press.
“What d’ye want?” hed the. coach-
man at the kitchen door. “Ie boss
o’ de house sent me’ round here,” re-
plied the tramp, “an’ said you was
ter gimme anything IT needed.” “All
roight. Come ouf to" thé stable an’
0i’ll turn the hose on Lye. "—Philadel-
phia Ledger. :
#-4Don’t you think,” Sake Ms. Cld-
castle, “that our minister is becoming
somewhat recondite?’”’ 20, 1 don't
know,” replied her hostess: “Josiah
thinks so, but it don’t seem to me
that he weighs a pound mare” than
he ought to for a man as-tall as him.”
—Chicago Record-Herald.
Father—Henry, don’t you think it is
1
Eugen
avenue,
tion, Dc
liberty
first ste
Denver
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the sun
I have
the inte
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tip: he
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wants ¢
lunicheo
man. .
Mr. C
of being
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er very
One wa
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T!
It has
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and bea
scalp of
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sore hai
chafings
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teurize:
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tivated
process
centrat
then. a:
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The 1
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learn tb
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Send for
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county
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