CS = \
ACIP OF. ~4-
== COLD WATER }
By Aare Cire | |
TH
rr ————
PART 1.
o T was on a drowsy after-
{ y noon, a long time ago, that
@ little Dorothy Mayfield sat.
in the door of her home
playing with ker doll.
Beyond the child through
the open door could be seen the mother
at her spinning wheel, humming a
hymn that was as soothing as a lullaby.
“I must have a drink,” suddenly said
the little one, as if the sensation of
thirst had just made itself manifest.
“Now, Dorothy, you will have to stay
right here till I come back; I won't be
gone long, and you must be real good.”
With this she set her doll on the step,
with her back against the jamb, in
order that she might maintain a genteel
position during her own’s absence, and
away the young mistress ran down the
winding path to the spring, only a
few rods off at the rear of the house.
Dorothy ran every step of the way,
because she couldn't help it. and, paus-
ing in front of the crystalline spring
of icy coldness, she took a brown gourd
from its resting piace on a projecting
ledge of stone, and, stooping dewn,
dipped it into the water. Then she
held it to her lips, while its dripping
coolness moistened the corners of her
mouth and the tip of her pug nose.
Two or three swallows were sufficient,
and, with a sigh of enjoyment, she laid
down the vessel and was about to
whirl round and dash back to the
house, when she was abruptly checked
by the appearance of an Indian war-
rior, who came from among the under-
growth, walking as silently as a
shadow.
He was of medium height, rather
good looking for one of his race, his
fong black hair hanging loosely about
his shoulders, while two or three gand-
ily stained eagle feathers projected from
the crown. His countenance was not
disfigured by the hideous paint which
his people use when they go upon the
warpath. He wore the simple huting
shirt, leggings and beaded moccasins
common among the New England In-
dians two centuries ago. The buck-
horn handle of a knife thrust into his
girdle at the waist showed and he
grasped the barrel of a long, old-fash-
ioned flintlock rifle, whose stock rested
on the ground at his feet.
“What do you want?’ fearlessly
asked Dorothy Mayfield, after the blue
eyes had looked for a moment straight
into the black orbs of the redskin.
“Drink water,” replied the Indian in
fairly good English.
Once more, snatching up the gourd,
the girl dipped it into the spring and
held the dripping vessel toward her
dusky guest. The immobile face never
changed as he reached out the free
hand, took the gourd and keld it to his
lips. :
That he was thirsty was quickly
shown, for he steadily drank, gradually
raising the vessel and throwing his
head back, while the astonished Dor-
othy watched the “Adam’s apple” in
his throat as it bobbed up and down,
until not a teaspoonful of water was
left in the gourd.
“Oh, my!’ she exclaimed. “I guess
you haven't had a drink since you
were a little boy; you don’t want any
more, do you?’
“No,” replied the Indian, with a
shake of his head as he returned the
gourd, sat down on the ground and
drew the back of his hand across his
moist lips.
“Dear me! Haven't 'you got
handkerchief?’ asked the little
turning up lier nose in disgust. The
Indian was somewhat mystified over
the name of the article, but all became
clear when the little miss whipped out
a piece of spotless linen from the
pocket of her dress, and, stepping for-
ward, carefully wiped away the mois-
ture that remained. Then she noticed
several beads of perspiration on the
Indian's forehead—for the day was sul-
try, and he had traveled far—and she
soothingly removed them.
“There,” she remarked, retreating a
step and viewing her work with satis-
faction, “now you look like somebody.”
It is not often that a member of the
Indian race betrays the emotion of
mirth; bat as this one looked at the
little miss and understood her words
his mouth moved until his even white
teeth shone between coppery lips.
“What's vour name?’ he asked.
“Dorothy —tuat’s the name of
doll, too.”
“Live dere?’ continued the warrior,
pointing a finger toward the log dweli-
ing, which showed among the leafy
limbs of the trees.
“Of course 1 do. Where do you live?”
He turned half round, as he sat on
the ground, and pointed behind him.
“Off dere, good way. Little girl can’t
walk.”
“Yes, I can, if I wanted to, but I don’t
want to. Have you got any little girl
any
one,
my
"like me?”
Again the dark face was lit by a
smile and the head nodded without
speaking.
“Won't you bring her to see me some
time?”
“Mebbe,” was the non-committal re-
ply.
“You
mustn't
her every day ¢
don’t bring her t
of ‘the
{ “Why, his name is my father.
emoved his]
How
simple you are!”
There was a glow of real mirth in the
countenance of the red man at this
scornful reply of the little girl, and in
a voice of wonderful gentleness he
added:
“He fader have oder name.”
“Oh, why didn’t you say what you
meant? He is Mr. Mayfield. Do you
know him?”
A silent shake of the head was the
response.
“Sometimes Indians come to our
house. If they are hungry we give
them something to eat. Are you hun-
gry? ‘Cause if you are it will soon be
supper time, and if you will go with
me you can have all you want and stay
at the house till morning.”
“No hungry—go back in woods.”
It suddenly dawned on Dorothy that
it was her turn to laugh, and she did
so right heartily.
“I know why you can’t eat any sup-
per. It's ’ciuse you drank so much
water that you can’t hold another
mouthful.”
The conversation might have lasted
a long time, for the Indian acted as: if
he were interested in the chatter of
the little one, whose questions and ob-
servations came so fast that little op-
portunity was given him to do more
than answer questions, some of ‘which
were of a most puzzling character.
Suddenly the voice of the mother was
heard. The prolonged absence of the
child had caused disquiet on the part
of the parent, and she was calling to
her,
“That's my mother,” exclaimed the
little one by way of explanation. “I
shall have to go now. Goodby!”
She was off like a flash of sunshine,
but had taken only a few steps when
she stopped short and looked around.
“You won’t forget to bring your little
girl to see me? Won't you tell me your
name?’
The warrior had risen to his feet and
was moving away. He, too, checked
himself, and, turning his head, an-
swered both questions, but uniortu-
rately, Dorothy did not catch what he
said. She repeated her queries, but the
red man, for some reason that cannot
be conjectured, did mot look around
again, nor speak. He struck into his
Ieng, silent stride, and quickly disap-
peared among the trees.
“I guess he said he will bring his
little girl to see me,” murmured Dor-
othy, as she hurried up the path to her
mother, who was, waiting for her, and
to whom she related her singular story.
And little Dorothy waited and
watched for the coming of her dusky
visitor leading his child by the hand,
but he never came.
PART 1I1,
One soft September afternoon in 1675
Hugh Lardner, a lusty young man, car-
rying a flintlock and powder horn,
came to the home of Jacob Mayfield
with alarming news.
“It will not do for you to remain an-
other hour,” were his words to the
palefaced husband and wife. “King
Philip and his warriors are near you,
and no one is safe.”
“Whither shall we go?”
“To Deerfield. Captain Mosely is to
be left there with a small force, while
the rest are busy in the harvest field.
The village is only a few miles off, and
if you make the most of your time and
are very careful you can reach it in
safety. Will you do it?”
“Yes, with heaven's
greatly thankful to you,
your kindness.”
“It is but a neighborly act.
hasten.” .
Time was precious, and, bidding the
hisband and wife goodby, the young
man hurried out of the house, and,
breaking into a loping trot, headed to-
ward the camp of the brave pioneers
from Ipswich.
Jacob Mayfield was too wise to dis-
regard, the warning of Hugh Lardner.
Without encumbering themselves with
anything in the nature of luggage, the
father stepped out of the house, fol-
lowed by his wife, holding the hand of
Dorothy, who was now two years colder
than when she had given a drink of
cold water from the spring to an un-
known Indian.
The door was shut behind them, but
the latchstring was left hanging out,
in accordance with the hospitable cus-
tom of the border. If the Indians
chose to visit this outlying cabin, they
wonld meet with no trouble in securing
entrance. ;
It was nearly ten miles to Deerfield,
the distance being greater because of
the circuitous route taken hy the pio-
neer. He was familiar with the route,
and was hop-.ul that by following the
advice of Hugh Lardner he would
avoid the hostile redmen, who were
liable to be encountered at any time.
All went well until the winding
| course through the woods, marked at
| times by an indistinct trail, but oftencr
without any, mark at all, bad .been
passed. Finally, the father stopped in
help. 1
Hugh,
am
for
I must
front
of a deep, calmly flowing stream,
a dozen feet or more in width.
“We must reach the other side, some-
and
how,” he remarked, .as his wife
| child paused at his s
“Can’t' you jump it?
with a faint smile.
“Perhaps, by taking a short run;
that help you .and Dorot
| I will tell you,” replied the child.
Low will
“Take mamma in one arm and me in
the other, and then make the-bigges
jump you can.”
“I am afraid it would land all three
in the middle of the stream.”
“But you can swim out with us.”
“If "it is necessary to swim I can
carry you all across, but it isn’t pleas-
ant to have our clothing wetted.”
“It will not harm us, for the weather
iz mild,” suggested the wife.
“We may do better.” :
They moved up the stream searching
fo. a straiter place, and met better for-
tune than they expected. One was
found where the width was barely six
feet, to leap which was a slight feat,
even to the wife, accustomed to the
rough, outdoor life on the frontier.
Dorotiy was equally ®vertain she
could accomplish it as readily as-her
parents, who were inclined to think she
was warranted in the belief. There
was enough doubt, however, to cause
the father to try a somewhat originai
plan, which was carried. out with as-
tounding results. -
He laid his gun on the ground behind
them, and lifted his laughing childs
his hands beneath her arms close to
her shoulders. Then, standing on the
edge of the stream, he swung her back
and forth with increasing oscillations,
having explained that he intended to
throw her across.
“One, two, three, and there you go.”
As he uttered the last exclamation,
she left his grasp, and, describing a
short parabola, landed lightly upon
her feet, on the further bahk, and, un-
der the impulse of her own momentum,
ran several paces before she could
check herself.
“There!” called the pleased parent.
“That is better than trying to jump and
falling into the stream.”
“But I shouldn't have fallen into the
stream—"’
Jacob Mayfield heard a slight rustling
behind him, and, turning his head, was
confronted by five Indians, one of
whom, stooping as silently as a shad-
ow, had caught up the white man’s
gun from where it lay.
The mother uttered a cry, but it was
because of the terrifying sight on the
further shore. An Indian warrior
stepped from behind a tree, only a few
feet away, and approached the child,
whose back being turned. suspected
nothing of her peril, while held speech-
less by what she saw just across the
brook.
At the moment when the parent was
unarmed, the half-dozen warriors made
him and his family prisoners.
Since all the Indians were armed and
in war paint, Mayfield and his wife did
not believe their lives would be spared
for more than a few minutes. Their
astonishment, therefore, was great
when one of them by gestures indicated
that the couple were to leap to the
other side and join their child. Since
she, too, was in great peril, the curious
command was obeyed on the instant.
The wife easily leaped across, and was
followed by her husband, the former
being quick to take the trembling hand
of Dordthy.
The warriors talked for a few min-
utes in their native tongue, while May-
field anxiously scanned each face in
{arn, in the hope of recognizing an ac-
quaintance to whom he could appeal,
but all were strangers, though if every
one had sat at his board it ‘probably
would not have affected the case.
The chief was saying something, and
in the act of gesticulating with his free
hand, when, to the astonishment of
everyone, Dorothy Mayfield tugged at
the other arm. The surprised leader
turned angrily and glared down in her
face.
“Don’t you remember me? I'm the
little girl that gave you a drink of
water,\oh, a good many years ago.”
For several seconds the painted face
was a study. The Indian stared at the
upturned countenance, silent, peering
and intent. Then the shadow of a
smile played about his mouth, he laid
his hand on the flaxen hair, and, in a
voice of wonderful tenderness, uttered
the single word:
“Dor’'thy!”’
“I knew you would remember me.
You told me your name that day, but
I did not hear you; tell me again!”
“Pometacom; white people call me
King Philip.”
“Why didn’t you bring your little
girl to play with me? I watched, oh,
so many days, but you forgot all about
it, didn’t you?’
“Poo far—good way—little girl can’t
walk so far.”
“That was so long ago that she must
now be a big girl like me. She can
walk it now; will you bring her to see
me?’
“Some time,” was the grim response.
King Philip, the grim hero of the
greatest war in the history of New
England, had not forgotten the inno-
cent child who gave him a drink of
water two years befo:
Without hesitation, therefore, he an-
nounced that no member of this little
family should be harmed. Not only
that, but in face of the fact that he
was, urgently nedeed elsewhere by his
warriors, he accompanied Dorothy and
her parents through the forest until
they came in sight of the little village
of Deerfield, when, knowing that all
danger was at an end, he bade them
goodby and hurried off. —Cassell’s Lit-
{le I'olks.
With an Eye to the Future,
The eminent explorer stood at last
at the North Pole.
Instead of indulging in sentimental
rhapsodies he took a notebook'and pen:
cil from his pocket and began jotting
down certain memoranda.
“Noting the temperature, direction of
the wind and aspect of the Iland-
scape?’ asked one of his shivering sub-
ordindtes. -
“No.” he said coldly, “I am arrang:
ing dates for my lectures.”—Chicago
Tribune. : I 3
The first parlor car has made its ap-
pearance on the New York subway.
ee?
THE FUR BEAVERS.
PICKING THE MOTORMEN |... foo oe
ee et eee
SEVERE TES
MUST
TAKE.
COMPLETL FAMILIARITY WITH
RECORDS OF THZ
--HOW THE SURGEONS
CAR MECHANISM E3LENT/AL-e
MEN FOR FIVE YEARS INVESTIGATED
WEED OUT THE UNFIT
SCHCOL.
--THE
wee is surprising how many
men would like to be on
the front of the electric
ear in Denver, but what is
5 still more surprising is the
LN cml very small per cent. of the
hundreds of applicants who stand the
tests employed in the making of a
motorman, says the Denver Republi-
can. Of every fifteen applicants only
about three survive the preliminaries,
then about fifteen per cent. of the as-
pirants fail‘to pass the physical ex-
amination, while about five per cent.
of those who get thus far never be-
come O. K. and receive positions.
The school of the motorman is a hard
one. The tests are severe and the all
prevailing rule is that of the survival
of the fittest. The candidate for the
front end realizes that he is in the
sifter from the moment that he makes
application to the superintendent, S.
W. Cantril, who employs and dis-
charges all trainmen. He immediately
learns that all motormen in the service
of the Denver Tramway Company
must not be less than 150 pounds in
weight, nor less than five feet five and
one-half inches tall, sound in eyesight
and hearing and free from all physical
defects. They must be of good moral
character, temperate and between
twenty-one and thirty-five years of age
on entering the service.
All possible information is obtained
from the applicant by means of blanks,
which he fills out, answering questions
going closely into his personal history.
His first blank shows his name, age,
height, weight, place of birth, whether
his parents are alive and if so where
living. It also shows all persons de-
pendent upon him for support; wheth-
er, if married, he is living with his
wife, number of children, if any, and
their ages. He also gives his previous
profession or trade, tells whether, he
uses intoxicating liquors and to what
extent, or indulges in games of chance.
He tells where he was last employed
and the cause of his leaving.
Next the applicant states whether he
is in debt and to what amount. If he
was ever employed on a steam or street
railway, he tells in what capacity and
gives the reasons for his leaying. His
acquaintance with employés of the
Denver company is detailed, and he
tells whether Le has any relatives in
the service. This blank concludes with
a list of the man’s employers for the
last five years and the names of any
references whom he desires to be con-
sulted.
If satisfactory returns are received
on private blanks sent to these people
Superintendent Cantril has a personal
talk with the applicant regarding the
duties of the position sought, the ne-
cessity for certain rules and their ob-
servance. If the candidate makes a
favorable impression he is given a
blank for his medical examination and
sent to the company surgeon. There
he meets with a more severe examina-
tion than is given by most of the life
insurance companies, especially re-
garding his cight and hearing. It is at
this stage that many fall by the way-
side.
Having been 0. K.’'d by the surgeon,
the superintendent starts the appli-
cant on his way to the shops with a
blank requesting that he be given gull
instructions in this department. He
has entered the school of the motorman
and has his first view of the “instruc-
tion car.” After mastering the mys-
teries of the motors, brakes, efc., he
enters the shops where repairs are be-
ing made, and there he works daily un-
til he learns all parts of a car. When
familiar with the construction of con-
{rellers, motors and all car equipment,
his foreman recommends him to Super-
intendent Cantril for further instruc-
tions, and the latter assigns him to one
of the divisions. On reporting to the
day foreman he is instructed regarding
the movement of cars and the duties of
motormen, then he is turned over to
the division superintendent, who places
him in charge of an oxperienced
teacher.
Then come exciting times for the
new man. For a few days he rides on
the front of the ear merely to become
accustomed to conditions. He learns
not to lose his nerve under trying cir-
cumstances, and becomes accustomed
to judging distances, unconsciously ab-
sorbing knowledge and gaining
confidence from his environment. Then
comes the day when he is permitted to
handle the eontroller and brake. Un-
der the tutelage of the old motorman
he works from five to eight or ten days,
according to his aptitude to master
the machine in his care.
Next the embryo goes to the night
foreman of his division car house,
where he learns to make all small
pairs, such as might b erequired on the
road, and he is taught his duties in
taking out or bringing in a car. While
at this work he must remember all that
his old friend on the front end taught
him about ringing the gong, full stops,
speed, slow two miles and slow four
miles an hour, rounding curves, taking
switches and other details needful for
the safe operation of a car, for at the
conclusion of his instruction in small
self-
re=
has been assimilating by iis actual cx-
perience with cars and their parts.
He is given a blank containing fifty-
nine questions on the duties of a motor-
man, and is then shut up in a room by
himself.
and ambitions.
If the result of this examination is
apparently satisfactory, the candidate
i
| Each Year by the Hunters.
|
i
called atten-
manner in
Some months ago we
tion to the extraordinary
3S APPLICANTS FOR PCSITIONS , which the fur-bearing animals of the
| world persist, notwithstanding thelr
| continual pursuit by man and the vast
multitudes annually destroyed.
All over the Nearctic and Palearctie
worlds man is continually shooting or
| trapping or snaring the wild animals
| native to the section to which he be-
| Jongs, and yet as regards all except the
largest of these animals, the supply;
seems to keep up from year to year,
without anything like the marked
changes that this continued destruc-
tion and pursuit would seem to call for,
Attention is again drawn to the mat-
‘ter by the receipt of the list of skins
| to be sold at auction by one of the larg-
And this room has proven the | est London fur dealers during the
death chamber for many a man’s hopes | March just past.
These people offered
| for sale 1,000,000 muskrat skins, 310,000
| skunk skins, 170,000 raccoon, 110,000
| opossum, 75,000 mink, more than 92,000
is sent with the blank to the division foxes, of which 38,000 are red, 3500
superintendent, who thoroughly ques- i blue,
!
|
tions the man upon all points in +e
paper and upon all others that he de-!
sires to investigate. If the division
superintendent then certifies the appli-
cant to Superintendent Cantril as eligi-
ble for service, another milestone on
the long road of learning has been
reached.
The aspiring knight of the controller
and brake is furnished with a badge
and paraphernalia and reports to the
division superintendent, this time to be
placed on the roll. After a couple of
weeks’ service in this division, running
on all lines, the new employe is sent to
all others in turn, running at first with
an experienced man on each line not
less than five hours. Thus he becomes
familiar with the conditions on every
line in the city and can be used in any
emergency.
For the first thirty days of his actual
service the motorman runs only on
cars equipped with hand brakes, at the
end of which time he learns the intri- |
cacies of air, under the instruetion of |
an experienced man. This he follows |
when off duty until recommended for a
third trip. If he makes good he gets
an air brake car.
Always udder the watchful eye of his
uperiors the new man is also closely
observed by the motorman first in-
structing him for the period of from
six months to a year after entering
the service. This teacher has orders
to see if his former pupil thoroughly
understands and follows his instrue-
tions and to assist him whenever neces-
sary.
From two to three weeks is occupied
by the new man in preliminary in-
struction from the time of his applica-
tion for a position until he begins to
run a car, and after that he finds some-
thing new every day as long as he
stays in the service. Of the large per
cent. of candidates who fail to reach
the front O. XX. many fail because of in.
ability to judge distances. Others are
prone to lose their heads on being
confronted with obstructions or when
their brakes fail to work; they can’t
meet emergencies.
Many experienced motormen apply
daily by letter or in person for service
in Denver; men from all parts of the
country, for the local company has a
good: reputation away from home
among street car employes. It is said
that any motorman or conductor with
good clearance papers from the Denver
City Tramway can get a position any-
where in the United States, so well
recognized are the merits of the school
which it conducts and the efficiency
of the employes trained therein. The
local management, by the way, prefers
to educate a good healthy farmer boy
right from the start, rather than to
accept of motormen of years’ experi-
ence who have been less carefully
trained by some other company.
There are now about 300 motormen
in the employ of the Denver Tramway
Company, which has averaged to break
in about 100 new men a year for the
last two or three years. This large
number is ‘accounted for by the fact
that the service has been rapidly in-
creasing, instead of heing made neces-
sary by the retiring of old employes.
Few men leave the company, a much
smaller percentage of loss being re-
corded than in other local industries
employing similar large forces.
It is the policy of the company to
retain its experienced men in order to
maintain the highest standard of ef-
ficiency, and it is only the most ef-
ficient who are able to stand the severe
test in the local school for motormen.
iis Religion.
Not long ago a certain clergyman
from the West was called to a church
in Jersey City. Soon after his arrival,
the divine’s wife made the usual visits
to the members of the parish. One of
these, a plumber’s wife, was asked by
the good lady whether the family were
regular churchgoers, whereupon the
wife of the plumber replied that while
she and her children were attendants
at divine service quite regularly, her
husband was not.
“Dear me,” said the minister’s wife,
“that’s too bad! Does your husband
never go to church?”
“Well, IT wouldn't say that he never
went,” was the reply. ‘Occasionally
Will goes to the Unitarian, now and
then to the Methodist, and TI have
known him to attend the Catholic
church.”
A look of perplexity came to the
face of the visitor. “Perhaps your hus-
band is an agnostic,” suggested she.
“Not at all,” hastily answered the
other, “he’s a plumber. When there
is nothing for him to do at one church,
there is very likely something for him
repairs comes the ordeal of his life— {at one of the others.”—Harper’s
examination day. Weekly.
The student’s book of rules is taken rt remedies
from him. This he has studied in all is to have an amusement
his spare time, and its contents are as in:a ent position, on a|
impo e knowledge that he | 1 e. i
1800 cross, 500 silver, 10,000
white, 21,000 gray, and 18,000 Jap-
anese.’ There are 20,000 wolf skins,
8000 beaver, 2500 otter, 320 of the rare
sea otter. All these, besides many;
thousands of the skins of other and
less well known animals, have by this
time been sold in the London market.
So it would seem that the race of the
small creatures of the world is not
soon to die out, and indeed those of
‘our readers who have the luck to be
country dwellers, know very well that
the woods and swamps and mountains
and fields which surround their homes
are the homes of a great multitude of
these small folk, which, though seldom!
seen, are always there and always
known to be there. Sometimes the
farmer loses patience with fox or
weasel because a few of his fowls are
destroyed; sometimes the damage done
by the muskrats’ chisel-like teeth pro«
voke the landowner and lead him to
set a few traps.
Usually, however, the town or sec-
tion or distriet contains a single mam
who makes more or less of a business
of trapping, and it is he who gathers
up the fur taken in a district and who
nally ships it to the towns, whence in
turn it goes to the big city, and then
then perhaps crosses the sea, and at
last brings up in London, one of the
greatest fur marts of the world —
Forest and Stream.
Calves’ Heads.
“1 was going about Cadillac Square
the other day,” says a Detroit business
man, “when I noticed a wagonload of
calves’ heads standing before one. of
the markets. I began to wonder what
under the sun anybody could use
calves’ heads for, so I stepped into the
market and made inquiry.
“Well, do you know, there is really
an industry in calves’ head? Several
men in town, and particularly one out
Gratiot avenue, make a business of
buying them up. They prepare the
tongue and brain for use as edibles,
and as these are regarded as a delicacy,
on the best tables, they bring a con-
siderable sum. Sometimes the whole
head, with the lower joint of the fore-
legs and the feet are used by hotels
for table decorations. After the brain
and tongue have been removed, the
remaining portion is used for head
cheese or sausage. The bone is sold
to be used as fertilizer.
“My informant told me that about
500 calves are killed every week ‘in
Detroit, and each head brings about
thirty and one-half cents, or a total in
a year of some $8000. That's a pretty,
big sum to be realized on an article
that the average person would regard
as absolutely without value.”—Detroit
News.
Gibraltar is Crumbling.
The public is not aware that the
great rock of Gibraltar is tumbling
down—that its crumbling, rotiing
masses must be continually bound to-
gether with huge patches of masonry
and cement. :
Yet they who sail past Gibraltar can
not fail to notice on the eastern slope
of the fortress enormous silver-colored
patches gleaming in the sun. These
patches, in some cases thirty or forty,
feet square, are the proof of Gibral-
tar’s disintegration. Of thick, strong
cement, they keep huge spurs of the
cliff’s side from tumbling into the blue
sea.
Sea captains, cruising in the Mediter-
ranean, say that Gibraltar has. been
rotting and crumbling for many years,
but that of late the disintegration
has gone on at a faster rate than here-
tofore.
They say that the stone forming
this imposing cliff is rotten stone, and
that in a little while the phrase, “the
strength of Gibraltar,” will be mean-
ingless.—Chicago Chronicle.
Feared Left-Handed Shave.
“I said my prayers this morning for
the first time in several moons,” said
the sporty looking man. “I was then
brought into that devout frame of mind
by a left-handed barber. He shaved
me. I had had left-handed people do
everything else to me like shining my
shoes, brushing my clothes, and even
cheating me at cards, but never before
had I seen one of the left-handed fra-
ternity manipulate the razor. The fel»
low scared me half to death. He saw,
that I was afraid of him.
“It’s all right’ he assured me. ‘I
know my business.’
“And he did. Nevertheless, I don’t
want to try him again. The strain is
too hard on my nerves. Every time he
whisked the razor around anywhere
near the jugular vein I prepared to
yield up the ghost. However, nothing
happened except that he finished me
off looking more beautiful than I ever
looked in my life. But for all that,
I'd rather peg along with only my or-
dinary share of good looks than to ex-
perience another such a set of thrills
at his bands.”—New York Press.
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fabrics
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ing ru
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warm
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ter.
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match
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they a
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before i
half a
trifles
the dey
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there is
ruffs m
proval.-
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op. g
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mode,”
its plac
view tf
than a
dainty -
black,
shoes t
ings th
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black o
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kid glo
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used to
of silk
The ele
anxious
shoes a
dyed to
materia
no easy
~ not tak
coarser
-
The n
are tho:
brims a
entire 1
devoid
quill.
colors i
all the
are refl
matchin
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ture of
plest of
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big Low
of taste
other fl
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velvet,
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Still ¢
French :
who can
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much Ic
> falls in
crown
large T:
‘same sh
of the s
are kno
bow.
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tle miss
winter v
5 large ve
peared f
they are
wear, b
esquely
ming.
Ostriel
but man
fer class
use of
‘bonnets,
large ve
r ithe face
ifront, be
ithe crov
with a l
~. ial.
’ Women
Much |
the boy