EPISODE. Heart with Love's flag half-mast high, ove has come, but Love passed by. Faithless Hope his colors bore; Folly opened wide the door, ‘And he stopped a little space, Ere he turned away his face. Now thou shalt alike rcpent hat he entered, that he went. Though noon glory be withdrawn, Grateful was the radiant dawn. Master of the subtlest art, Hope has gladdened soul and heart; Folly more than Truth was wise, While she dwelt in Paradise. Better far my flag half-mast, Than that ou Fa never passed. . Robbins, in Lippincott’s. CCC SEE EE IE Bill's Long Search Rewarded. 1 i hess A Yo of haggard and bewil- dered inebr’ation came in through the swinginz doors of the Seaman’s Glory Saloon, and camc to an un- steady halt against the bar. “I didn’t leave a small tin bucket in here, did I?” the new-comer asked of the bar- tender. This official cast a bleared eye upon the questioner, and shook his head. “No, you ain't left no such pail around here, Bill. Maybe it was at the Bowhead?” “I just came from there,” said the other, thickly. ‘‘It ain't there. I do wonder now what I did with them there remains.” He threw a flutter- ing glance at the bartender, and then dug deep into a pocket. “Lemme have some gin,” he continued, more briskly. The barkeeper set the bottle out, and watched his customer imbibe. As he put the bottle away again, he said: ‘‘Mayte you'll find ’em at Smith's. Y.ook there?” “That's so. I may have left them remains right there.” He smiled faintly, and wavered on his legs. ‘“‘By gum, I'll jest bet that's where they are. I'll go see.” And with labored sait Bill departed. “Porr chap!” said Twizzle. “That misfortune did for Bill.” “What misfortune?” 1 asked. *“Who’s Bill?” “Bill was terribly unlucky,’ was the response. ‘‘Bill lost his mother- in-law.” “r don’t see how that should af- flict him,” I retorted. Twizzie drained his beer glass, and shook his head with an understand- ing look a‘ the bartender. The lat- ter also shook his head, and both seemed stricken with a sad and poig- ant memory. “It’s a terrible mis- fortune,” murmured the barkeeper. “To think,” continued Twizzle, ‘“‘of what Bill has suffered every night when he goes home and his wife says, ‘Bill, where's mother?’ and Bill don’t know. Awful!” ‘“’Orrible!’”’ assented the other. “Lost his mother-in-law in a tin bucket,” Twizzle went on, raising his voice. ‘““And set it down without ever know: n’ where he left it!” exclaimed the bartender. “Awful!” boomed Twizzle. ‘“ ’Orrible!” the bartender respond- ed. I plucked Twizzle strongly by the sleeve. “Look here,” I protested, “I'm all in the dark. Tell me how Bill lost his mother-in-law. What's all this nonsense about a tin pail?” “It was an awful misfortune,” Twizzle answered, solemly. “It did Bill up. He ain’t never held his head up since.” “Since what?” I cried, in vexation. “Since he lost his mother-in-law in a tin bucket,” roared Twizzly, fiercely. ‘What do you suppose 1 mean?” “Easy now, Sam,” urged the bar- tender. “The gent don’t know the partic’lers.” “1=don’t,”’. said 1, “and I’m anz- ious to learn them.” “Why didn’t you say so before?” Twizzle demanded, suspiciously, ‘“‘and not go a-doubting of my word?” Ty protestations of credulity near- ly particirated another flurry on Twizzle’'s part, but the bartender came to my aid, and between us we soothed ‘mm into a narrative mood. “Bill was my mate on the Oom Paul,” he explained, ‘‘and he got married to a little woman living on Russian Hill here in San Francisco. Bill was terrible pleased. ‘Never saw such a woman, Cap'n,’ says he. ‘And she and her mother run that house shipshape as you please.’ or Mother-in- law living with you? : asks. “Bill sort of edges away. “Of course,” says he. ‘I couldn't expect Mary to live all by her lone while I'm at sea. She needs company.’ “But Bill didn’t cotton to that mother-in-law the way he wanted to. She sat heavy on his digestion. He couldn’t warm up the way he ought to and the way his wife thought he should. But Bill didn’t say much ex- c2pt one day before we got into port he says, ‘Cap’n, I wonder if my moth- er-in-law likes me.’ “Do you like her?’ real blunt. ““«{ try to do my duty,’ ““‘An unpleasant gests. ‘““ ‘She s-~ms to sort of hoodoo me,’ he blurts out. ‘I'm afraid she’ll be a misfor une .0 me yet.” And vhich same she was. Poor Bill! he tasted what was coming. “So things went on for voyages several. Bill he seems sad in his bosom when he thinks of his wife's ma, and speaks considerable about misf.rtunes. You see she wo: a small, black-eyed woman with idcas. “One vovage we got back to San ¥.ancisco, rd Bill leaves for Rus- sian Hill in his best clothes. In a I demands, says he. duty?’ 1 sug- CCCI DIDI < 1 2 1 32 23332032 CUTE 8D A te Loss of His Moraer iw Law. § 2 RMN NAY AMY res CCT Te By John Fleming Wilson. 3 3 3) 300-3 LILI LIILILD *S<D 6 couple r° hours he comes back. ‘Can I have a couple of days off?’ he in- quires. “ ‘What for?’ I demands. “ ‘My wife's ma is dead,’ says Bill, ‘and I want to bury her.’ ‘“ ‘Take a week,’ says I real hearty, ‘seeing it's your mother-in-law. Do the job up well, and good luck!’ “‘I'm afeard,” says Bill. I’m afeard of misfortune. She rever liked me.’ ‘“ ‘She can’t do you dirt now,” 1 comforts him. ‘Stow her away in the ground, and batten her down under a white stone.’ “ ‘But she’s left a will,” says Bill. ‘“ “What's the difference?’ I retorts. ‘Bury her.’ “1 can’t,’ says Bill. . ‘She left it in her will that she was to be cre- mated.’ “ ‘Cremated!’ I exclaims. ‘Do you you mean she wants to be stuffed and put on the mantle-piece ? Don’t you do it, Bill.’ “‘It’s not that,’ says he. ‘She wants to be burned to ashes—cre- mated in an oven.’ ‘“‘I see,” I remarks, real hearty, ‘and you don’t fancy eating vittles cooked after her.’ * ‘No!’ he yells. ‘I've got to take her to a crematory and burn her in a place made for that. It's a cere- mony same as burying.’ ‘“ ‘Well, why don’t you go ahead?’ I demands, some vexed at his stupid- ity. ‘I’a burn iny mother-in-law in a minute. I take it kind that your wife’s ma left word to do it.’ “ ‘I'd rather bury her,” says Bill. ‘You see when she’s burned, Mary wants the ashes back to keep in the house. She says it’s the proper thing.’ “I din’t just see what the trouble was, but ac Bill was low in his mind I cheered him up as best I could, ard told him to take as many days as was needful to make a gocd job of burn- ing his wife's ma. “Next day Bill turns up in the afternoon, quite solemn in black clothes. ‘I want you to do me a favor,’ says he. ‘ ‘What is it?’ I asks. “ ‘Come with me to the cremation,’ he says. ‘Mary says she can’t bear to g0, and I don’t want to be alone. Doesn’t seem scarcely decent.’ “‘I aint a good mourner,’” I says, ‘but I never 1esert a shipmate.’ So we trotted off to the crematory, and sat on chairs in front of a furnace while Bill's wife's ma was cremated. It was terribly gloomy, specially when th2 man in command came and says very solemn and blue, ‘It’s all over. What shall you do with the ashes?’ ! ‘“ ‘She’s gone,” 3ays Bill. ‘Poor woman! Did she leave many ashes?’ ‘“ ‘Not many,” says the man. ‘Will you take 'em with ou?’ “ ‘That’s the proper thing?’ Bill demands. ‘“ ‘It is,” says the man. ‘ ‘All right,” says Bill, resigned. ‘I thought maybe Mary was wrong, but what’s proper must be done.’ ‘“So the man sweeps up the ashes and brings them out in a little pot. ‘Here are the remains,” he explains. “‘How’ll I carry her?’ asks Bill, all in a cold sweat, looking at the little pot. ‘“ ‘Put her in your pocket,” I says. “ ‘It don’t seem decent,’ Bill pro- tests. ‘I can't carry my wife's ma home to her in my pocket.’ “So we discusses the matter, and I suggests a hearse. ‘Too big,’ says Bill. ‘I aint going to make a joke of it hauling this little through San- Francisco in a big wagon.’ “It all ends by us starting out with the pot in our hands very gin- gerly. So we goes for a few blocks, when Bill gets an idea. ‘I'll buy a bucket,’ that. way.’ “I was doubtful ii: my mind, but let it go, seeing it wasn’t my funeral. We got a tin pail stowed the re- mains in it, and started on. Present- ly Bill says, ‘This is a sorrowful nec- casion. ‘Tet’s have a drink.” So we had a drink, nd Bill felt better. We had another, and Bill thought it was all for the best. We stopped in an- other place, and he said it was queer to think how death came to all of us. ‘f thought she never would die,” he remarks, lugubriously. ** “You better get home with them remains,” I exhorts him. “ ‘Looks like a lunch-pail,’ he. I must comfort Mary loss of her ma.’ “Do,” says 1. ‘Excuse me if 1 quit chief mourning and go back to 2 ship.’ says he, ‘and put the pot in There won‘t be no scandal that says for the th “So I left him and went back to the Oom Paul, where I ate a dinner not so hearty as usual for thinking of a tin bucket with a mother-in- law in it. I was ~moking my pipe afterwards when in comes Bill, all flustered. T ‘What’= the matter?’ 1 demands, 1 for he looked terrible upset. ‘I've lost her,’ he retorts. ‘Lost who?’ I inquires. “‘My mother-in-law,” says he. ‘She’s around somewhere in a tin- bucket.’ “Come to find out Bill had been terrible low after I left him, and stopped several times for drinks. When he gets home he’s some ex- alted. ‘Where's ma’s remains?’ de- mands his wife. ‘““Then Bill was up against it, and can’t explain. ‘How could I?’ he de- mands, tearful, ‘when I'd left the old woman sitting on some bar?’ ‘“ ‘You couldn’t,’” I answers. haven't you found her?’ . *“*No!’ he bawis. ‘She. ain't no- where to be found. I knew she'd bring me bad luck.” And he ain't to be consoled.” Twizzle heaved his huge shoulders in commiseration. “You saw him just now? Well, Bill's Feen hunting that tin pail with them remains in all these years. Of course, every bar he goes into to inquire he takes a drink. When he said shat old woman would bring him misfortune, he was right. He ain’t been sober since that funeral, if so you migut ‘But call it. Poor Bill! He was a good seaman, too. But marriage undid him. They say his wife takes on awful.” “Do you mean to say,” I remarked, “that you've let that man go to the dogs just because of his mother-in- law’s remains being lost in a tin bucket?’ Twizzle looked at me with renewed suspicion, “What of it?’ he de- manded. I took him to one side and spoke in his ear. A grin overspread his heavy visage, and the bartender was called into consultation. “It's a scheme,” said the latter, genially. Twizzle swore with vociferous jub- ilation. “If there’s anything I cher- ish,” he said, boomingly, “it’s the thought of fooling that ma of Till’'s wife.” Two weeks later I went down to see Twizzle off for Shanghai. He in- troduced me to his mate, a somewhat pinched-looking seaman. ‘‘Bill‘s been suffering from the loss of his mother- in-law,” Twizzle explained. “I hope it's all right,” I said. Tne captain of the Oom Paul took me into his cabin. ‘He found her in a tin pail in the Bowhead,” he told me with prodigious solemnity, “just where he lost her.” “Funny he shouldn't have found it before,” I remarked. “You never can tell what a moth- er-in-law will do,” was the response. “But them ashes looked wonderful natural.”’—San Francisco Argonaut. Sparrows Beaten by a Hen. Few mothers have triumphed over more difficulties in the rearing of their families than . Nellie, a little brown hen whose home is in a box on the bank of the Chicago River, near North avenue. Besides the per- ils of steam and street cars, of heavy traffic and deep ditches, Nellie has been forced, literally, to fight for the protection of her brood ever since she brought the little ones into the world three weeks ago. In that time she has killed twenty sparrows, members of a colony seemingly en- tered into a pact to desiroy her off- spring. The birds have killed four of Nellie's chicks, half of her family. War was declared between Nellie and the sparrows the morning the little hen proudly came from her nest with her eight tiny chicks. The trouble started over a dish of corn- meal provided by a bridge tender for the hen and chickens. The sparrows wanted the meal, and to get it made a concerted attack on the hen and chicks. Nellie killed four sparrows in the first battle, while the birds took the lives of two little chickens. The scrimmage ended with the sparrows in flight, but a guerrilla warfare has followed. The spar- rows have succeeded only twice in their efforts to isolate Nellie’s young ones, but on those occasions quickly. beat the little chicks to death with their wings and bills. The chickens have now reached an age to be able to fight back when attacked, and the sparrows are giving up the fight.— Chicago News. Spinning Wheels Vanishing. The Russian manufacturers went after the Irish linen industry a few years ago. They imported some of the best of the Belfast factory hands. They went over the world for looms and other machinery. They brought Irishmen from country districts to bleac: the flax, but the result was as sorry as when the spinners of Paisley tried the same experiment. With every Irish bride goes presents in linen that would be more acceptable to our sensible girls than the silver articles lavished on them. A gener- ation ago no Irish wedding was ¢-1- plete without a spinning wheel, but now the linen comes of finer texture from the mills of Belfast.—New York Press. West Virginia Bear Hunt. ‘A large. black Year caused quite an excitement in this section last week. He was first discovered near Aleck Park’s residence with an air of bravery not altogether lovely. Aleck has two fierce dogs that chased him up against the garden fence, and, as is often the case, no gun could be found loaded, and after tossing the dogs around over the meadow with apparent ease he crossed over to near Harper Wol- ford’s on the creek and made his es- cape in the jungle, hotly pursued by a dozen or more men and dogs with short breath and fast beating hearts. —Hampshire Review. No Plutocrats in New Zealand HOW IT PREVENTS THE BUILDING UP OF ENORMOUS FORTUNES. =m Florence Finch Kelly, in the Independent. secon soon I have just returned from an ex- tended trip through New Zealand, and in all the time I was there I did not see, in city, town or country, a single . person who did not have enough to eat and wear, plenty of work at good pay and the will to do it. There are no beggars, there are no tramps, there gre practically no unemployed, and there are no big fortunes. There is probably no one in the islands whose wealth exceeds a million dollars, and those whose possessions amount to that much are very few. When the Liberal Govern- ment came into power fifteen years ago the colony was in a very bad way. There were big landed estates and absentee owners, so that most of the wealth produced in the islands went overseas. try had come to a standstill, and most of the workingmen had no work. Those who could get enough money together to pay their passage were leaving by the shipload, and those who could not were being cared for by the Government in shelter sheds and soup kitchens. Since those days the created wealth of the colony has increased by £122,200,000, and there is no reason to suppose that if the Government had not interfered with the commercial laws of gravity a large part of that would not have gone into the building up of big for- tunes and commercial bodies more powerful than the Government. One of the first things the Liberal Government did was to inaugurate the policy of the bursting up of the big landed estates. These have been bought—compulsorily if the owners were unwilling to sell—divided into small holdings and leased to actual settlers. . In this way the Govern- ment has resumed over 700,000 acres. ‘rhe leasehold tenure for 999 vears of these lands, and also unim- proved Crown lands, and a flat rental of four per cent. on the unimproved valuation made it possible for any man, no matter how poor, to estab- lish himself on a farm. Then the Government went into the business of loaning money and advanced to th: settler at five per cent. interest, reducible to four and a half by prompt payment, the money needed to get himself started, and make his improvements. Thes Government Labor Department was run in co- operation with this land policy, and it made every effort to help the un- employed to get on the land. The Secretary of the Labor Department told me that he has put not less than ten thousand men on the land who otherwise could have done no better than to drift along on the perilous edge of day labor, to fall into dire straits at the first calamity. This policy has made them independent, prosperous farmers, producers of wealth for themselves and the col- ony. . For some years the long term lease was the favorite form of land tenure, but there is now a strong and grow- ing sentiment in favor of the free- hold, and it is probable that the Gov- ernment ‘will’ soon grant the right of purchase to all leaseholders, but it is determined that this shall not result in segregation of land into large holdings. Keeping the land as wide- ly distributed as possible among the people is one of the means by which it controls the distribution of wealth. There is already a restriction upon the number of acres that may be ac- quired by either lease or purchase from the Crown. To forestall the danger of the building up of large estates which will come with the ex- tension of the freehold the Govern- ment proposes to limit the amount of land that can be held by one person, bv whatever title, or however ac- quire .d. The law, which the Govern- ment expects to enact at the next session of Parliament, will not affect existing titles, but will make invalid the title to any land in excess of, probably 5000 acres, which any one person may attempt to acquire. Most systems of taxation are de- vised for the purpose of providing revenue, but it is characteristic of the New Zealand idea of the func- tiohs and purposes of government that the primary intention of its scheme of direct taxation is to pro- vide another means of combating the tendency of wealth to flow where wealth already is. There is no prop- erty tax, and there is no tax on im- provements. The land tax is on the gross salable value of the land less the value of all improvements. In addition to the ordinary land tax there is a graduated land tax, which begins when the unimproved value of the land is $25,000. Between this and $35,000 the rate is one-eighth of a cent to the pound sterling, and above that .value ihe rate increases by equal steps until it reaches six cents to the pound, payable when the value is a million dollars or more. Fifty per cent. additional tax is lev- ied upon absentee owners. Holdings of small value are exempt from the ordinary land tax, the exemption amounting to $2500 where the un- improved value does not exceed $7500, and gradually diminishing up to the value of $12,500. This is in accordance with the settled policy of the Government to make it easy for the poor and difficult for the rich to increase their possessions. TH® ru- 00000-0000 ows Consequently indus-’ = 0008 w 0080 w sult of the exemptions and deduc- tions is that only one-fifth of the New Zealand land owners pay a land tax; but during the last ten years the number of land tax-payers has in- creased by ninety per cent. The income tax is levied in con- junction with the graduated land tax, and is assessed on all income ex- cept that derived from land or from :aortgages on land. This is exempt, of course, because its capital is as- sessed under the land tax. Incomes of less than $1500 are exempt from the income tax, and there is a further deduction from all incomes of $250 yearly for life insurance premiums. The rate of the tax last year was twelve cents on the pound for the first taxable $5000 and twenty-four cents on the pound for all exceeding that amount—respectively, two and a half and five per cent. The num- ber of income taxpayers is about one in 100 of the population. They have more than doubled in the last ten years, and in that time the receipts from the income tax have increased by 174 per cent. The Government officials think that their returns are remarkably complete, and do not be- lieve that there is much, if any, eva- sion of the law. Inspection officers verify returns at the taxpayer's dom- icile, and the commissioner can com- pel the production for their use of all books, balance sheets, stock sheets and other evidence of the taxpayer's income. The knowledge that this will be done if necessary andthepen- alties attached to refusal have had a wholesome moral effect, while the careful and systematic work of the inspectors, who also give instruction to taxpayers when necessary as to the keeping of simple forms of ac- count which will facilitatethe making of returns in correct iorm, and the system of revising anu checking by comparison in the commissioner’s of- fice, have made the law very effi- cient in its practical workings. The land and income tax act has been in operation since 1892, and has therefore had ample time in which to be thoroughly tested. The .arge landholders, naturally enough, do not like the graduated land tax, but there seems to be no dissatisfaction with the income tax, in either prin- ciple or practice.—Florence Finch Kelly, in the Independent. QUICK WIT OF YANKEE GUNNER. An Incident of Dewey's Manila Bay. Fight in A group of army officers were dis- cussing the difference in naval smart- ness between the British and the American bluejackets as shown dur- ing the recent visit of Prince Louis of Battenberg. A lieutenant who saw service in the Spanish part of the war in, the Philippines told this to point his moral: “You remember how Dewey filed in squadron formation past the Spanish ships, firing as he went. The big guns were firing in order, each one in its turn. “Now, maybe, vou know how they load a big gun—first, the projectile, which is rammed in tight: then, two bags of powder. The projectile. is ground exactly to fit the bore. The least obstruction puts it out of fit. “The crew of a forward 8-inch gun had fired early in the action, swabbed and loaded again. In clean- ing they missed a burned bit of can- vas sacking which holds the powder. “So the projectile didn’t fit, but they didn’t find out until they’d shoved in the powder sacks behind it. They stuck an inch beyond their proper place, and it was impossible to close the breech and, of course, to fire that shot. “There was only one way of get- ting the load out. This was to haul the muzzle close inboard and send a sailor with a twenty-four-foot rammer to shove it out. It would have taken a quarier of an hour. The gun crew stood to undergo the disgrace of losing their turn and of going out of action at a vital mo- ment. “The gunner in charge, without the slightest hesitation, yelled: ‘ ‘Bill, give me a needle.’ “He whipped out his sailor knife, ripped open the butt of the nearest sack and took out a double handful of powder. He sewed up the rip, closed the breech, and said: “ ‘Allow 1,500 yards on that shot —letergo!’ “The shot struck the hull of the target ship, and the gun was behind its turn by only two or three sec- onds. “I believe this story is true. 1 heard it from the gun crew the week after the fight. And the question is: Would any gunner except a Yankee have had the savvy to solve the problem in two seconds of think- ing?” Big Ten Prefer Comfort. The Tailor and the Cutter says that tall and well-developed ren are often clumsy and indifferent in matters of dress, preferring comfort to style. Consequently, very few big men appear to the best advantage. There may be more love in a warn- ing than in a reward. A A DETAIL HE OVERLOOKED. But the Girl Companion Was Quick to See It. “It is said that women live in a world of little things,”” said the young man. ‘Certain it is, the way they watch out for the details is a constant source of wonderment to a mere man, especially when those de- tails enter into another woman's make-up. “lI was coming down town in the Subway with a young lady friend the other evening when a remarkably pretty girl glided in at the Circle sta- tion and sat down exactly opposite. I tried to pay proper attention to my companion’s interesting talk, but to save my life I could pot keep my eyes off the girl opposite. She was simply exquisite—that is the only word to apply to her. My companion did not seem to notice my inatten- tion and talked steadily on, but out of the corner of my eye I saw that she was studying the girl opposite with the closest scrutiny. The girl did not seem unaware of this scru- tiny, and the way their respective glances struck fire when they met each other in the middle of the aisle filled my masculine soul with glee. “At Twenty-eighth street the girl arose with easy grace and left the car, halting a moment in the door- way for what I decided was the pur- pose of impressing upon us the lines of her beautiful figure. “As soon as she had disappeared, my companion became instantly si- lent and did not speak for several minutes. Finally she said, in a re- sentful sort of tone: ‘You needn’t have bestowed so much admiration on that girl—it all went for naught.” “ ‘How so?’ I queried, innocently. “ ‘Because she wore an engage- ment ring,” was the reply. “Now I'll venture to say that a mere man would have gazed at that girl a week without ever discovering that little getail, ”—New York Press. Why Poe Left West Point. Several army officers were sitting in a New York hotel, recently, dis- cussing old times at West Point. The talk turned on the instructors who used to put them through their paces. “I shall never forget old Profes- sor Church,” exclaimed one. “He always impressed me as being about a hundred years old, and I guess he was pretty well along, because one day, up in the library, when I hap- pened to be looking at a portrait of Edgar Allen Poe, he informed me that he had taught the poet mathe- matics, and explained how the young man came to leave. “It was as much of a crime in those days as now for a cadet to be off limits without permission. it meant dismissal. Poe, being an un- tamed spirit, couldn’t resist the temp-~ tation to take a chance now and then and run down to oo resort at High- land Falls. He and four other ca- dets stole off late, one night, and were having a high old time, when they heard a squad from the Point coming down the road. You can imagine the wild scattering. Two cadets sought the cellar, and two more the rooms above; Poe was small and was lifted into a conven- fent sugar barrel. The four other fugitives were quickly discovered. was an after thought on the part of the lieutenant in command to lift up the lid of the sugar barrel. He dragged Poe out, and marched him, with the others, off to the guard- house. He had offended before, and was regarded as the ringleader in the escapade, and so his career as a soldier came to an end.” “And a mighty good thing it was,” exclaimed one of the listeners, ‘‘for the world of letters.” Fish Know Colors. “Fish know colors,” said a keeper at the New York Aquarium the other day. ‘They can distinguish between red and blue, or white and green, as well as you and I. Wait and TI prove it.” He led the way to a tank in which were some red and some yellow and some green fish, and in it were arti- ficial grottoes painted respectively red and yellow and green. The keep- er roiled the water with his hand, and the fish fled, the red ones to the red grotto, the yellow ones to the yellow grotto, and the green ones to the green grotto. “They know which color shields them from observation best,” said he. “Now I'll change the, grottoes, so as to prove my statement a second time.” He moved the grottoes to different places in the tanks and again roiled the wated. The same thing followed as be- fore. Each fish darted like a shot to the grotto of its own color, where it knew it would be best concealed. Posers For Scholars. Twenty words submitted to a spell- ing bee in Springfield, Mass., in 1846 were given to the high school class at East Liverpool by Supt. Rayman, and it is reported not one in the class correctly spelled every word. Only ten had averages of over ninety per cent. The average of the 124 pupils was 73% per cent. The words submitted were acci- dental, accessible, baptism, chirog- raphy, characteristic, deceitful, scendant, eccentric, evanescent, fierceness, feignedly, ghastliness, gnawed, heiress, hysterics, imbecili- ty, inconceivable, inconvenience, in- efficient, irresistible.—Pittsburg Dis- patch. The fruits of heaven are not in the 1 life unless its climate is in the heart. It de- - Ny busin one. brave ballot right own serve ed or ness | towas cerit) facts worl more and 1 four rock Time those terms prefe tinue life; stran tians King and t warn but ual boun the g mate
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers