mgs poms A SE Es Ame ne —— VANITY. At five a maiden’s wants are few; A get of blocks, a doll or two; A little place inside to play. 1¢ it should come a rainy A pair of shoes, a pinafore: 1 really think of nothing more. Ner wants she overmuch at ten; A birthday party now and then, A bit of ribbon for her hair, A little better dress to wear. Perhaps a pony cart to drive 4 bit more than she did at five. A modest increase at fifteen: A party dress, in red or green, A room alone that she mey fix With bric-a-brac and candlesticks, A parasol, a fan -and, oh! I quite forgot to add a beau. At twenty she is quite above All childish wants she asks but love, And dreams of Princes, tall and fair, Who come a-wooing and who dare All dangers: and she keeps apart ¥or him the castle of her heart At twenty-five her fancy goes To bonnets, frilis. and furbelows, A country place. a house in town, A better rig than Mrs. Brown Or Black or Jones. and just a wee Small figure in Society. ’ At thirty—well. a little tea ¥For the distinguished Mrs. B.. Who writes— a Prince to entertain, A long-haired Lion to make vain With silly tricks, a horse show box And just a little plunge in stocks. At thirty-five and forty well There isn’t much that’s new to tell; A little bigger country place. A real good lotion for the face, And some reduction made in those One can afford to say she knows. At fifty—does her fancy end? She wants ah. ves, she wants a friend To prove her years were not in vain: She wants those dreams of vouth again, When Princes-errant, tall and fair, Lived, loved and came a-wooing there. At seventy she wanis to know Why Vanity and hollow show Tempt Wisodm from its-lofty seat. She wants but ease for gouty feet, And peace to wonder what must be The last leaf’s musings on the tree. ——J. W. Foley in the New York Times. ddd bbb bbb Eb debe bb bbb bb bbb ddd Just an Indian Cur. But a Little Dog Who Was an Altogether Delightful Companion. From Carter Hamilton's “Flapjack” in St. Nicholas. dedbbbddb bobbed be dbbbob bbb bb dE | the work of improvement which is be- deeded bbb db rhb He turned ome clean haif-somer- sault from nowhere and landed pluni on his back at my feet. I said, “Flapjacks!” That's how he got his name. He was only an Indian's cur, the forlornest little waif of a lost puppy, with the most beautiful dogs’ eyes 1 havee ver seen. He scrambled to his feet and used his eyes—that settled it for us. Without further in- troduction, we offered him the re- mains of our dinner. He accepted it with three gulps and the stood wag- ging his poor little tail, asking for more. We are camping and trailing out in the Wind River Mountains—Brandt and I—back of the Shoshone Indian Reservation, and we had halted for dinner in a small canyon in the shade of the rock wall from whose suminit Flapjack had tried his little ocrobatic stunt. Whether he came from an Indian encampment near by, which we had not seen, or was just plain lost and fending for himself alone in the wilderness we did not know. He told us about fending for one's self While he ate his dinner, an’ that it was “an awful” hard life and some- times ‘very discouraging.” After dinner he told us that our scraps were the very best food he had ever eaten; that our outfit, our horses and mule, the finest he had ever seen; that ‘we ourselves were gods, wise and very great; that he loved the ground we trod on, and only asked to stay with us forever. So he staved. Jinny, the mule, returned his compli- ments unopened, and told him what she thought of him by showing the under side of her off hind hoof and putting back her ears. But then, Jin- ny was the only aristocratic person in camp, in her own opinion, and yon may take that for what it is worth. { ing carried on. I am not going to tell you where There are some things you must fin¢ out for yourself, if you are game fo: it, just as we did; otherwise, you don’t deserve to know. After some ten days we arrived without either adveniure or misad venture, at our happy fishing-ground and made camp on a little precipice at whose feet a deep, dark pool lured monster and luscious rarities. In spite of his hard journey, little Flapjack had improved amazingly, as to health, not as to manners; for from the first day we knew him he had the most perfect manners of any dog 1] ever met. If you flung him a crust he so appreciated it—it was the very nicest crust, the daintiest morsel, one could have; just as everything we did was simply perfect in his eyes. And he wasn't servile about it, either. He simply approved of everything we did, and told us so in an eloquent, dumb way of his own. : We made camp for a two weeks’ stay; felled a tree for backlog, and fixed things generally ‘to be comfort: able, all under his supervising eye. And when it was done, and the friend- ship fire lighted, he lay down before it as one of us and said, “This is home.” So we fished and were happy; and we fished some more and were hap- pier; and we fished more and more and were happier ard happier every day. Do you understand that feel- ing? If you have known Wyoming camp-fires, you do. ASTOR'S FEUDAL DOMAIN. Castle Once of LII- Fated Anne Boleyn, Restored to its Early Glories. In the garden of England, by which designation: the county of Kent is known, Mr. William Waldorf Astor has purchased one of those picturesque and beautiful mediaeval castles that abound with historical interest and around which so many old traditions have been woven. Castle Hever. one of taese old houses has been practically transformed by Mr. Astor, and the London Daily Ex- press gives a graphic description of Hever. Home The general schemes of this new Astor estate, for Mr. As- tor has another estaté at Cliveden, comprises the following: Restoration of the castle to its an- cient battiemented glories. Building in ancient style a series of castle villages. A model farm. An Italian garden. A lake of forty-five acres. An artesian well and capacious reser- voir. Widening aud changing of the course of the River Eden. New public road three-quarters of a mile long. A | strong bridge over the river, with wide spans, broad roadway and steel frame. A larg® power house for electric light, etc. An extensive deer park. The castle itself is of great historic interest, owing to the fact that it was at one time the home of the ill-fated Anne Boleyn, one of the wives of Henry VIII, and tradition says that the unquiet spirit of the dead Queen Consort crosses the bridge over the river during Christmas week. With the destruction of the old bridge over the river the ghost of the l.ady Anne has Leen effectually laid. At least this is the story of the credulous villagers. | Be that, however, as it may, certain it She didn’t prejudice us against Flap- | Jd&ck. Still, Brandt and I happened t to share Jinny's opinion of her- = Brandt was in the habit of re- snarking on seventeen separate and | geveral occasions cach day that “even Yer a mule, Jinny is the low-downdest | : ] {in which that bluff British King is de- .omne I ever set eves on.” 1 At the sight of her hoof, Flapjack | wade a ludicrous little duck with his | bead and came hack to us, volubly explaining that, “Of course, the mule being yours, don't you know? she simply must be the very finest, sweet- tempered animal in the world, don't you know? and altogether above re- proach, don’t you know?’ That won us completely. + And he never once reproached her is that the watchers at Hever this year saw no spectre to reward them for their lonely vigil. } Sonie notion of the extent of this gi- gantic task may be gathered from the fact that nearly 200,000 tons of mater- ial have passed over the roads leading to and from the estate, while the num- ber of workmen employed has varied between 1560 and 2000, and to house ail this army of laborers temporary huts were erected in the grounds. All the newer stonework has been removed from the castle, and a quarry has been reopened in the castle grounds. The old oak panelling has been cleaned, the second and outer catis to be reopened, while a draw- bridge in quite the olden style will give admittance to the principal en- trance. One room cal 1 after Henry VIII, ciared to have slept, will be set apart for Mr. Astor, and the historic long gallery will be the resting place of the masterpieces of many famous artists. Anne Boleyn's room is to be untenant- ed. All the old barns, outhouses and oth- er structures have been demolished, and in their stead there are now a : series of old-fashioned and semi-Tudor | cottages. for anything she did—even when she | kicked him into the river. He treated her with distant courtesy always, without so much as a yap in her di- rection. And it wasn't because he was | | ican milliona afraid of mules, either-—Brandt and I will deny that imputation against his valor to our dying day. Let a strange mule or horse get in among ours, and Flapjack was a very lion of ferocity until he had yapped him out of sight. “Think we'd better look for their camp?’ I asked, putting the dishes into Jinny's pack. i “What, the purp’'s Injuns? Not much!” answered Brandt. “If they haven't seen us. let ‘em alone. An’ if they have— why, proper introductions. I move we | hike.” So we hiked, and Flapjack hiked with us: We kept on our trail, if such it could pe called: a trail which probably no white man but ourselves bad ever set foot upon. We were bound for a little | crammed with on earth. No; lake that we knew, the most innocent fish The grounds also will be embellished in the old-fashioned style, and the anti- quaries of Kent are not altogether dis- satisfied that this historic old castle has passed into the hands of an Amer- ire. They regret, of course, that it is likely to be closed to them at least for many years to come, bul Bs are assured that Mr. Astor will regard its battle seared wails and its far traditions with vener- ation. “Deprived cf His See.” As an example of the ability of the juvenile scholar 10 evolve an unex- pected meaning from his text, a cor- x .. | respondent relates that the following we've got to wait | question was put to a history class: “What misfortune then happened to Bishop Odo?’ The reply came quite readily. “He was blind.” An ex- i planation was demanded, and the genius brought up the text-book, “There, sir!” triumphantly “the book says s0.” The sentence Indicator by an ink-steined digit read: “Odo was deprived of see.”—London ! Spectstor. Fee. 4The District Leader is & of Always Campaigning Sol odOo db TOT IOPVe 00 000888 TVYVYVYe ALLAL AL vvYyevee 000008 Oo. 0046000 ® ® CO0L00 90006000 ing the dead. By Nelson Lloyd. wR rsrvmarnsS N every city in the country, whatever party may be in power, we witness attacks on the “gang.” Sometimes the gang is overwhelmed: ignominiously beaten and thrown out of the city halls amid general execration. Then the lean years come, but it goes back to the district to prepare for other elections. The reformer appeals to reason, but corruption does not argue. Down in the district the leader is campaign- ing always, He is sending coal to the needy, hunting work for his henchmen, giving lodging to the homeless, and bury- His days are spent among the police stations and in the courts helping his people in their hour of trouble with the law: his nights at his cia, where, in his stuffy little office, he sits like a priest at confessional hearing stories of woe and pleas for assistance. He does favors. Those who receive them are likely to return them at the polls, an easy settlement of debts. They know him. He has helped them. It is unfortunate that the reward of municipal victory should not be the honor of a public trust and the opportunity to work out high political ideals, but rather the power to fatten at the public trough. And it is unfortunate, too, that the district He receives shafts that would hit harder were they aimed higher. boss should have to bear the brunt of the attack on this system. We hear little in the campaign of the respectable gentlemen whose names adorn the di- rectories of the great corporations that urge him. These are men of the high- est integrity, but of course it is no concern of theirs if the companies they di- rect find it easier to do business when the city is in control of those who, in the words of the famous boss, are “working for their pockets all the time.”— From “In the Di strict,” in Scribner's. Certain v4 Changes Desirable in the American College By Dr. G. Stanley Hall, President of Clark University, Worcester, Mass. university or college, ODAY the individuality of the professor is obscured, and we have developed a vast array of machinery, with a president drilling his subordinates. Our professors devote too much time to the examination of the students, so that they have no time for individual work. Princeton has realized this in the adoption of the tutor system. The high school should be the people’s college. They pay for it. The ideal will be when the high school says, “This is the best we can do for the av erage scholar,” and, to the “Pake him or leave him, or her,” and you may be sure that they will take then. a ; The tendency is to standardize knowledge, so that it is like baled hay. It is put up in packages, and is discouraging food to the youth who wants to preserve his individuality. tically no enirance examination. At the Leland Stanford university there is prac. The seeker for knowledge finds the gates oven. Colleges ought to be open to every one who can profit by the privilege. That a man has Now as to athletics. read the Bible in English is a sufficient entrance examination. The one fact that does not receive the prominence it deserves is that the real article does its best work on the moral character, instilling in the player a high sense of honor. A man may play hard on the football field and be a gentleman. In fair play. The soul of athletics should be the days of Greece there was the same hazing spirit as today, and the organ- ization of student societies was practically the same, and under it all was the spirit of honor among the students. Unfortunately, the purely culture studies are languishing. Greek and Latin pretensions it was necessary to have an observatory. {erested—and thereby Today there are a few of the students interested in the mathematical world. problems. The study of In my day in every educational centre of any Every student was in- gaiped religious instruction—in the wonders of God's is discouraged. LrRARARR RRR ARRAS ~~> The Danger *" of Fololeloeinalelok 5 ae ge = —de $ 3 +e ge 2 oe oe ° ge oe a ge & UE Gefefede tle steele x changed. Milk Preservatives By, Mary Hinman Abel. A < HATEVER difference of opinion there may be as to the use of small quantities of preservatives in other foods, physi- cians and hygienists are agreed in condemning their addi- tion to milk because it is the food of infants, and the young of different species have been shown to be very susceptible to their effect. Not only is the preservative itself probably harmful, but by its use the poorest quality of milk can be palmed off on the consnmer. Dirty milk is still dirty and dangerous, even though its souring point has been artificial We may be certain that neither farmer nor dealer is going to use one extra precaution or an ounce of ice more than is needed to get his milk to market in ood condition, and if he knows that he can fall back on the chemical to conceal that fatal sign of souring, and thus this double burden of bad milk and the action of the preservative is laid on the digestion of the lit- tle ones, who time at best to get through their first five years of life. inzist that very ing agents quantities are used. to make thorough examinations, or are preservatives now in use that are less easily detected? and where fines , if we may judge from the vital statistics, have a hard enough All of the large cities little preservative is now added to milk, yet prosperous-look- continue to solicit, and well-informed people insist that immense Are the cities, with their small force of analysts unable Certain it is that do not deter, imprisonment will. vigilant inspection diminishes the evil, Still more important in re- ducing the use of preservatives is the enforcement of sanitary regulations at the farm and the use of ice in transportation.—Delineator. Gt AALAAL ERIN LL RL ARRAN RA LARS The Rights of the Child Asleep Crom mmalipine By Dr. Grace P. Murray. Nyro) fe Sf sZe leas fe slesfe sk @* oe 3 i I : oe NETRA ue Re ht NY 3 ogeleslerte sk Tops ERRORS Xi mf ied K