Nh TE BILLY LY AND I. They are going to shoot you, For t he fellow who dares to m eddie w Youre a poor o 1d . Old Billy, an But you've been a Shoot Old Billy? I guess not, 3y the self-same stretch of mercy 1 hover t much love for the fellows w 1 they had more pity for horses and That's right, Old Billy, I like it—your We ve had rattling times together, an Do you remember it, Billy. the dude t And the way he swore that an old far Well, Billy, we're both great sinners, ‘And we've only a little further down t So we'll fare along together till the M To the happy Home Land stabl es and a ti hey horse They tell us that horses have no souls That shows how little they know, old’ Well ‘tis a mighty question, and But the more I know of horses the le You've been a good horse, Old Fellow, You have given us faithful serv ice—don faithful friend to me. though you may y old and gray, they'ii be Old Billy, but don’t you fret, ith you must reckon with me, you bet; d you 1% P 't worth much, it is true, and see you safely through. shooting me some day;: ho follow the shooting pies; dogs they'd have more love for a man. muzzle against my face; d once we won the race— hat we downed that day? m horse should show his trotter the way! for we've both grown old, you know; he road to go; aster calls us home our feet forget to roam. , and they all declare it true; Bey. and it proves they don’t kn quite beyond my ken— ss 1 brag about men. Ww you; and true; a horse could do; steady and brave ne all that You have carned your keep; you shall have it; so live as long as you can— For justice is justice, and ri ight is right, whether it’s a horse or a man. oston Transcript = John’s Mother-in-Law. =a BY HZILENA DIXON. Sma F course your mother must have a home with us, Car- rie. Widowed, and with no child but you. she natur- ally and rightly wishes to cuille 10 you. And only think how nice it will be for us all to have here. No more lonely hours for you while I am cooped up in that gloomy workshop of mine upstairs.” So spoke John Royalton as he rose from the breakfast table and caught up his chubby-faced boy, adding, as he perched his little two-year-old on his shoulder: & ‘And my little curiy-head wants a grandmamia’s experienced eye upon him to cut short his mischievous pranks. Don't you, Master Chatter- box?’ And away the little fellow was horne to the little room which John had called his “workshop.” Technically speaking it was a studio, for Royalton was a paiuter, and the domestic little wite was left alone to write a letter in- viting her widowed mother to her bome. “How like the dear old times it will seem to have mother with me.” mur- mured Mrs. Royalton, as she folded and sealed her letter. “A woman wants some one to talk to beside such a dig- nified, methodical person as dear John, and I declare I don't see any one else in an age except now and then when some sour-visaged old maid or simper- ing miss comes to have her portrait painted.” The Saturday following the posting of Mrs. Royalton’s letter brought the expected guest to the Royalton cottage, Mrs. Perring was a very nervous, very lively and very eccentric old lady, who made it her boast that she was never idle a minute between daylight and bedtime, When she became settled with the Royaltons she applied herself assidu- ously to ‘putting things to rights.” Every drawer, every chest, every cup- board. was ransacked and the contents of each arranged in accordance with the old lady’s ideas of order. Even John's desk was rummaged, and every letter and paper peered into, just to find out in what particular niche one ought to be put. In about a fortnight Mrs. Perring had the satisfaction of thinking that she had got things about the house in “good running order.” “There's only that outlandish pa shop upstairs—John's study-o, I be Carrie calls it—but what's had a ougM ventilating, and the very firs John’s away from. home I'll ma vew place of that.” Fortune smiled on . Perring's plans. John and Carrie and little Ed- die were away, and the little old lady prepared herself for the o aught. She donned her poorest dress, tied a napkin over her head to keep off the dust, rolled Ler sleeves above her scrawny elbows and went to work. All day long the furniture in the art- ist’s room fiew vigorously around. Many articles denounced as “worthless rubbish” were hurled through. il dow into the back yard, while that “mig ut come in play for socme- thing, some day,” were stowed away in the garret. A portrait, on which the paint was t was gnergetis flusted with a co towel; pa mixed incongruously and brushe through a scouring process tiil lady’s back ached with the exercise and her nose beca the medium svhich copious streams of perspi were conducted from her face. When everything in the considered “done,” Mrs. Pe a dash for an adjoining closet, found the door securely locked. moment the worthy lady was ir a guandary. How was she to straighten things in the closet? Do it she must and would, and very quickly Mrs. Per- ring bethought herself of a bunch of keys which happily she had brought with her. The keys were produced, and in triumph Mrs. Perring unlocked the door. Seizing her broom she r >d into the closet. She came out shortly, however, | and closed ihe, door after her a jerk and a ba: John Royal mothe made a discovery! Collecting her studio and Ww dignified sile i ting in Jonn and needles flew The cold, gr: down were 1 greet little When be in solemn sile: utensils below ent over The next morning when John re- naired as usual to his studio he uttered vehement sentences not at all in praise of his wife's mother. While he was engaged in undoing so far as lay in his power the mischief she had unconsciously wrought, Mrs. Per- ring was closeted with Carrie. The young wife's face was colorless, and her eyes were wild with anger and in- dignation as she listened to her moth- er’'s words. “Ip $s a beautiful face—the handsom- est picture of a real person I ever saw. Great, dark eyes, that seem to look you through, hair as black as night and hanging in ringlets all about her face and neck. The skin is just like alabas- ter, so white and clear, and the lips look like ripe cherries for all the world.” Carrie sank back in a fainting condi- tion, and her mother caught her in her arms, “Oh, my poor lamb! that I should see You treated in this shameful manner. And John so dignified and proper seeming. The hypocrite! But I've mis- trusted that his loving ways were all put on ever since I cleaned his desk and found scraps of poetry about love and such like nonsense.” “Mother, don’t; you will kill me by Your suspicions. I can’t. believe it. John cares for no one but me. He is too noble, too—"’ “Take my keys, then, and go satisfy yourself. Go look at the siren's por- trait in the closet. It isn’t finished yet, I could see that, and I wish now I'd liad presence of mind enough to give it two or three extra touches with the brush myself. No wonder you found his room locked so many times of late, and had to wait your artist's pleasure before you could enter. And that old woman in the alpaca hood that we've noticed going upstairs so many times of late isn’t an old woman at all. I’ve made up my mind about her. She's the original of that portrait. and no mistake. ‘See, there she goes up the steps now! Mighty careful she is, too, not to show her face. There—did you ever seen an old woman with such feet and ankles? She's the woman!” When the unknown woman had:de- parted, and the unconscious John was quietly eating his dinner, Carrie left the table under some pretext, and with the rusty key in her hand she ascend- ed the stairs and entered the studio | closet and stood before the painted | painted form of a woman before whom her own charms sank into insignifi- cance, What was this beautiful creature to her husband. Carrie's heart lay like a lump of lead in lier bosom as she turned away and sought her mother. - Shortly after John returned to his la- bors. the. two women—the elder, filled with virtuous indignation, the younger too utterly wretched even for tears— | left the house, taking little Eddie with them. Silently the poor wife followed her | mother in quest of some quict retreat | wherein to pass. the night. On the | morrow Mrs, Perring had resolved cn | her cl s into the country. was Carrie's "birthday, and al S heretofore, ing the few years { of 1 wedded life, John had remein- bei red | the day with a suitable an but r he see med to have forgotten not , but even that it was d Mrs. Per- i y, as, in a lonely | room, Carrie clasped her hoy to her boson: and wept passionately over her wronz. “Poor her to hear her at first. She loved fin altogether bet- ter than he. deserved, even were he true to her. It's best she should see him no more. Let her 'e her ery out and then she will be calm and a differ- ent woman entirely; 1 the insult and injury :h that wretch bas heaped upon her.” When the gloomy rig was curtain- ing the earth in Kness, Carrie begged piteously “to be permitted to I old more. She | would not enter might | never could gaze an roomnl. Ton 1 In ett | note for 1 know low Le ether Si was Mrs. Per- termined ep you from Ss arms.” from fle approached near.enough to. gain a view of the. interior of the room, -where John, with bowed head, was walking to and fro over the carpet. Carrie could not catch the expre sion of his face, but she saw that ever and anon he turned his-giaze upon a-paint- ing on the wall—one which had deter before hung there. The young wife's ly pale as, peeping face turne close to the window ghast- she saw that the painting was the one she had seen in the studio closet. Carrie was ready to faint, still she would not, could not, leave the win- dow. At length John paused before the portrait and spoke aloud. Carrie heard his words {stood still-a moinent to gather in ing, then, heedless of her mother's re- monstrance, she rushed with Eddie into the house, . Mrs. Perring, who had not heard a word of what had transformed Carrie from a’ breathing statue into her old joyous self, was too thoroughly pro- voked at what she considered ler daughter's lack of spirit and self-re- spect to follow herimmediately. When, however, she did so, she found hus- band and wife—the former with one arm suppor:ing Eddie and the other en- circling Carrie's waist—standine be- fore thie painting which, through Mrs. Perring’s romantic suspicions, had wrought so much, though happily not irreparable, mischief. A few words neatly written and pasted under the portrait—which, af- ter all, was not a portrait, but purely the work of the artist’s imagination— convinced Mrs. Perring that she was altogether wrong in her surmises, and that, after all, the woman in the al- paca hood might be as venerable as her appearance indicated. “A Birthday Gift to My Wife.” These were the words which Mrs. Perring read, and then she managed to slip unobserved from the room, and ever thereafter John Royalton’'s moth- er-in-law was a model he Now York Weekly. Epigrams. There is no necessity for. saying .it all. You say more by saying less. Everything that is most beautiful in life and art owes its existence to impulse—not to intention. Women should not make laws. In- stead, they should bring up their chil- dren in a way that would make laws unnecessary. Science is religion. It teaches us to know nature. And nature is the visi- ble half of God. Whether he will or not—every scientist is a high priest. As well as search the air for the souls of all our dead—we might search the carth for all their bodies. To strive is more than to succeed. A straight lie is always better than a distorted truth. Who gives most, asks most. The look has more power than the eye—the smile is more victorious than the mouth—the movement more seduc- tive than the form—taste and grace triumphant over beauty—what you are, forever overruling what you may ap- pear. A child should not be disciplined to obey without questioning—but instead to question, and seek the reason for, everything it does and undertakes.— Helen Woljeska, in Life. An Almost Faultless Climate. For the climate of the Everglades is almost faultless. It is singularly equa- ble, showing no extremes cof heat and cold, and not subject to sudden change. Even a ‘“norther,” coming out of the region of ice and snow, is soon softened to milder temperature; and the heat of summer is made genial, though the mercury may be well up in the eigh- ties, by the gzonized air which is every- where in the Glades. The year is di- vided into tie dry and rainy seasons. Tle latter m: iy be roughly spoken of as including June and September, al- though, well in the Glades; sudden Heht showers in limited areas are likely at any season, and in the autumn. a kigh degree of humidity is constant. A lifetime might be spent in the re- gion and no sign of malaria ever he discovered. Pure air, that moves in gentle breezes over a vast expanse of pure water, is the perfect assurance of health, as evinced in the fine physique, splendid coloring and athletic vigor of the Seminole, who bas*a monopoly of as fine .a climate as -there is on earth.—Century. i A Water Observation I ont. Captain J. Larsen, a sal on the ireat Lakes, has just received patents 6n a new form of pleasure boat. The boat is supplied with a ss bottom, and under the bottom electric light,- which will illuminate the water and the bed of the stream for some dis- around. A hooded refiector it possible to sit comfortably boat and witness the curious in the water below with great and pictures may be taken also is an kes the things ease, in by ieans of a mirror. The captain has in his possession a number of pho- aphs which were taken i this and these are said to be quite although they were made was clouded with dirt into it.—Ame In- means, satisfactory, when the water washed ventor. down n Color of the Stamp is Important. As demonstrating the pre judice men < he en Sian, lot of mail of a ¥ i busy vinst Iv, one- be ari stamps on each letter—alil w as first. class The 500 letters bearing red stamps brought nearly three times thle number of replies received from the 500 others—I suppose it just hap- but test erous pened that way, cases I have noti pens an £3 your » your staiop f you w theirsmean- | BUTT UY TUB YU YUU UYU BUY UU SHU UU BUY | 7 PASSING MOMENT. .. | DROLL STORIES OF THE .. 1 i ; HOW WE WAS DONE. “Speaking of natural born fools,’ served the man in the mackintosh, minds me’'- “Is this going to be a bit of personal experience?” interrupted the man who had his feet on the table. “Reminds me of old Lickladder, who used to drive the stage between Ripley and Mount Sterling away back in the Somebody once told him that when you make apple butter you can make it back into apples again if it isn't good, provided you go at it right.” “I seem to have heard that story be- fore,” said the man whe was smoking the rank cigar. “Yes. but you never heard of old Lickladder. The peculiar thing about him is that he believed it. He lived by himself in a little old iog cabin down on the banks of Crooked Creek. Did all his own cooking. I happened in on kim once when he was”—-- Say. how old were you then?’ que- ried the man with the white spot in his mustache. “Doesn't make any difference how old I was then or how old I am now. I'm talking about old Lickladder. I dropped in once, as I was saying, and found him stirring something in a big brass kettle. I asked him what he was doing. He said he had made a lot of apple butter, but it didn't suit him and be was making it back into apples.” “Yes, that's the same story,” said the man with the green goggles. “My grandfather used to tell me he read it in the Prairie Telegraph when he was a boy.” “Your grandfather never read any- thing in the Prairie Telegraph about old Lickladder. Permit me to mention the fact again, gentlemen, that this chapter of history refers principally to him. I said: “ “You gullible old fool, haven't you sense enough to know you can't do that? “He stopped stirring and he says to me: * ‘Took here, IT don’t want you to talk that way to me. You're disturbin’ the count.’ “ ‘What count? I said. “Then he took the kettle off the fire for a minute or two and he says: “ “You reckon I don’t know what I'm doin’, but I do. When you make apple butter the right way is to stir it from right to left all the time an’ count the number of times you stir it till you git it all done. You mustn't make any mistake about it, either. When it's done you stop stirrin' ahd take it off the fire. Then you taste it. If you don’t like it, you put it back on the fire, stir it froin left to right jist the exac’ number of times you stirred it from right to left and it's apples agin.’ “*And you believe that? I said. “ ‘That's right,’ he said. “People didn’t say ‘that’s right’ in those days,” objected the man swith the frazzled trousers, “Old Lickladder did. He put that kettle back on the fire and began stir- ring and counting again. I sat down and watched him. He kept it up for three-quarters of an hour, and you may believe me or not, gentlemen, but with my own eyes I saw that apple butter turn back {into apples again, all nicely quartered, and they were swimming around in two gallons of sweet cider he had put in that brass kettle to boii em in.” Phe man in the talking. Profound silence reigned in the group for the next five minutes. ob- ero 50s. mackintosh ceased the table slowly took thera down. All he said was that if there was any creature on earth he hated: it .was a ‘blamed liar, and he started for the door. followed by the rest of the audit- ors, leaving man in the mackintosh alone with his story.—Chicags Tribune. th JACKSON 'AND HIS BACON. In a recent issue of Harper's Weekly appeared an interesting account of An- drew Jackson's duel with Colonel Av- ery. A correspondent cf the Weekly writing in last issuz odds this the story: It was Ja the to ck ’s habit to carry In his saddle-bags when he attended court a copy of “Bacon's Abridgement,” and to make frequent appeals to it in his cases. This precious book was always carefully done vp ia cosa brown paper, and the unwrapping of the vol- ume was a very solemn function as performed by Jackson, who was then only twenty-one years old. dur- ing the trial which preceded the duel. procured a piece of bacon the size of the book, and while Jackson was ad- dressing the court he slipped out the volume from its wrapping and substi- tuted the bit of pork. At length Jackson had occasion to appeal to Lord Bacon. While still talk- ing he raised the bearskin flap of his saddle-bags, drew out the brown-paper package, carefully untied the string, unfolded the paper with decorous grav- ity, and then, without looking at what he held in his hand, exclaimed trium- phantly, “We will now see what Bacon Son Ise Avery, What wonder that the fiery young la¥vyer blazed with anger, while the court room rang with laughter at his expense! POSTED ON BIB “It happened this way,” said James Justice C NOT 3LE. Carter to-day to averly court. “I was reading the Bible to my little son Jim out Cain and Abel. ‘Cain killed ‘other and Cain was a murderer,’ Just then i Kane here rushed in and yelled, Then the man who had hig feet on. UARARARARRAARARNARAARARANAR RAR AA NAARALAR is a murderer? 1 was not thinking of zim, and said, ‘Cain is a murderer.’ “With that he knocked me across the room and then jumped on me and choked me until I was nearly dead. *Take it back, he said. ‘Take what asked. ‘That I am a murder- my orother.’ he said. ‘1 I said; ‘I meant the Cain back? I er-and killed take it back.’ in the Bible. “You're a liar, he said. in the Bible are all right, Then he choked me some more I said, ‘they're all right.’ ‘The Kanes aren't they? ‘Yes, “Ten dollars for you, Mike Kane,” said the Judge. “The Cains in the Bible are not all right. Go and read it.”—Kansas City Journal. HOGS WANT NO HOLIDAYS. A professor in an agricultural college had a Lobby. He believed and preached con all occasions that the food of animals should be cooked, just like that of huinan beings. One day, while out driving in the country, he passed a farm, the owner of which was stand- ing in a pen near the road feeding to a drove of swine generous quantities of corn in the ear. This caused the learned theorist to stop and forthwith hail the vioiator of his theory: “My friend, don’t you know it is wrong to give those hogs feed that has not been cooked? Don’t you know that if you would cook that grain before issuing it they would digest it in just one-half the time it takes them as it is now eat- en?’ “Wall, stranger, suppose they would; I'd like know what in the -— time is to a Log!"—New York Tri- bune. 10 RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION. A minister of the Kirk of Scotland once discovered his wife asleep in the midst of his homily on the Sabbath, so, pausing in the steady and possibly somewhat monotonous flow of his ora- tory, he broke forth with this personal address, sharp and clear, but very de- liberate: “Susan!” Susan woke up with a start and rubbed Ler eyes, as did all the other dreamers in the edifice, whether asleep or awake, “Susan,” ontinued her clerical spouse, “I didna marry ye for yer wealth, sin’ ye had none. Aud, I didna marry ye for yer beauty; that the hall congregation can see. And if ye hae not grace, I had made but a sair bar- gain wi’ ye!”—London Tit-Bits. A WITTY TI DIP] LOMAT. Hon. Joseph H. Choate. our Ambas- sador to Great Britain, was one of {le over-Sunday guests at a certain great country house, and found next to him at breakfast a very young, very inex- perienced, but also very pretty, daugh- ter of his native land. The English custom of serving boiled eggs in tiny cups, from which one eats out of the egg itself, troubled this little traveler immensely, and at Inst, with a gasp of dismay, she turned to ths diplomat with: “Oh, Mr. Choate, whatever do? I've dropped an egg!” “*Cackle, my dear. cackle,” answer, shall 1 came the A. RECOMPE Young Edwar SE. ty aged pf was quite tired cof staying in the house. His mother was ill, and had tried to keep Lim in the room with her because her room was warmer than his playrocm, but his teys were all in the piayroom, and Le became restless to go to them. “Good-by, mamma,” he said; “I will come back in a thousand years.” d, Ta g “I will be dend and buried by tha time, son.” The little fellow stopped a moment with his hand upon the door, : , thinking of the Creed. he replied: £ r mind, maiming; you will rose again i i I Bishop f a young and inexperie n who had just been called to a At Hie end of the first n bank 1d passed at the paying teller's window. Tho looked at it Sits perfec I wilj have se 2 ¥The young his pen and wrote across the face of the che *“] respectfully ¢ the senti ments rgonaut. Pr YY A New his career work, and w tor, died rece since h her rise EREL, who il began in 1 put on so- her old wliich flowers of piece widow Zed upo that some of her cast-off ng to cali up memories ot came to her mind. o the assembled company buly demanded: “Who th’ divi] sint that pick?” WASHINCTON AND THE SHAD. A Story of the Father of Mis Couniy Which is Not a Myth. The strictness of Washington's house- hold economy is’'well known. He val- ued money, not in the cheese-paring gpirit of Franklin, but as a man who had had the management of a great es- tate, and .who had seen an entire bri- gade of regular troops in open revolt because of their arrears of pay. While gerving his second term as President end living in the Morris house in Phil- adelphia, Washington had a: steward Of ihe named Hyde, whom he thought in- ofc is 2 clined to extravagance. Hyde's wages skin, nc were $200 a year —a fuel £8 Secre- i tary: Lear's ‘salary’ The President ; beim, a inspected the domestic accounts week- g" of thice ly. Though the household was rcon- ig ducted on a wide scale, he exacted economy in detail, and Hyde well un- = 4h The re derstood thai expenditures must be rea- 7 are 10 sonable, Coilecs. The PreSident was ready, even at plainer personal sacrifice; to enforce his own %0 it ha orders. wraps. The steward set before him one day elhhorat a dish of fish, appetizingly hot, daintily dressed. Vashington especially liked Why fish. Bronze “What fish is this?” ne asked. larity ir “A shad, sir; a very fine Delaware bronze 1 shad,” answered tie steward, congrat- dealers ulating himself on having pleased the cause ev President looks co “What was the price, Hyde?” an's foo “Three—three—three dol--lars, sir,” them.—S gasped the steward, his confidence sud- denly giving way as he watched the | changing expression of the great man’s Hats face. of taffe There was ,ightning in the Presi- success f dent's stern gray-blue eyes. models “Take it away. Hyde; take the fish Carlo. away,” he ordered. it shail never be haps the gaid that my table sets such an exam- pear pa ple of luxury and extravagance.’ trails of The crestfallen servant took the snad like. away tt was eaten in the servants” hall Why should not this shad be substi A Tac tuted for the little hatchet as one of evening our national emblems? It'S more sym- and wid bolic in itself, and the anecdote :arries after th a far better moral with it than that of to fall a the cherry tree. In a time of luxury Double and ostentatious extravagane dke der and that in which we are living, tar story for a D should come home to many hearts, and £0es wii have its influence in the domestic econ- theatre, omy of many a household. risk of TTT TT less, wi Prof. Wendell’s Success in Paris. pictures Mr. Barrett Wendell's lectures at the * costume Sorbonne have become one of the social i events of the season. On the days when he lectures the carriages stretch The gi for half a mile before the doors of apprecia Lutetia’s ancient seat of learning. Ihe ters for authorities Lave now given him the a neat | largest hall which the university build- one will ings boast, and on every Thursday and a small Saturday it is as hard to penetrate eter froi therein as we are told it is for a rich old-style man to enter the realms of the blessed centre o It is not quite easy to account for this eighths overwhelming popularity, save on the through assumption that the larger number of bon tw the French audience are there to im- ends of | prove their knowledge of English. Mr. of the p Wendell, though a man of great per- let the 1 sonal charm and culture, is not an ideal hole wil lecturer, especially compared with the poster w I'rench professors, who, by long train- ing and tradition, have become masters : of the art of easy and graceful deliv- : 2 i ery. Nor is his course particularly. at- - tint lac tractive, being solely concerned with buttons, the literature of a new people, through fon 2 which he endeavors to show the growth Yonsiied of the national spirit. But his success v makers is undoubted, and partly, at all events, ! nal it is is to be attributed to the transatiantio are oil ; influence in Paris. Qr, at léast, sob I Toe He i bowl an read it.—Pall Mall Gazette. ' 8 rs ug She Turned Vegetarian. =< of cours ‘I'he Countess of Essex, who has paint to many American friends, recently be- compari came a vegetarian. The other day. in : right cc a letter to New York, she accounted reached, for her abandonment of flesh. the lace “By chance,” she wrote, I happened quickly to see the preparations in a siauelter bottom. the bot of pain house for the killing of sheep, a grea! herd of “I can’t tell you how unpleasant these handily preparations were how everything Shake ¢ was stained with blocd —- how {here It is wi arose from the drenched, dark floors before 1 the peculiar odor of blood. process *AsF 1 was har av three beautiful lambs were aa in by a man Separ with a long, led with The s pity and inc said: attentio > ‘How. can so cruel as to attentio put these i le lambs to gerie is death” these ha * ‘Why, madam. = man, ‘von never b wouldn't eat them ai would you? els bee 2 1 women Slwnis ! Pr e. frail to Del Val ne tell: or a Kansas cler- the she gyman he ce knew who prided him- terials self on his precise and scrupulous use be look of words. One Sunday this grandm Was praying for ele in scanned renewed working force. the moc he pleaded, **waken Thy tunate hearts of this cong whose ¢ them new eyes to see an of the do. Send down Thy lev 7 reprodu according to Webster's or W orceste are not Dictionary. whichever You use. a The e pry them into activity.” his law yer ing to b and some of his friends to be there snorted just ¢ spring ard the of fine | decorat] as a tri who happened and the wih & Lalli a i: Amen ald Par i entire y A story 1 Park- a man, the Mista 1, which shows thing : in spite of not blind to | 0 et When him walking along the Street. holding ried for Te street boys by t coat collars, partm 1: 1 reply to his friend's request for an wife wi nation Paper in id: “I found sitting boy had eaten an apple without held uj ni with hig Bin brother, Now reading I'm going to buy one for the little boy betwee 1d make big Olé on w hile hurt m ne:eats it? at the After reading ’ talk wi sl 1 expect fai that 1 an's histori
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers