THE BRIDE'S WELCOME. What, did you y, was my sister aayin'? "No luck cornea when the eyea are green." Take that folly an' turn it straym'. Green ia the luckirat color ni'en. Isn't grass green for the eves to rest in? Aren't the trees of the same sweet hue? Mind you this, when shs starts her jestiu', I'd love you less if your eyes were blue. What was my little hrother shoutin'? "Hair that 'ud match our red row's tail." I'll he with him nn' stop his Hon tin' With a kind little word from the tip of a flail, " You. with your hair where the sunshine ranges, Like the autumn light on the heeohen truck, Is it me would be wuntin' changes? I'd love you less if your huir was black. Whal was my poor old mother eroakin't "Never a cow and hens but few." Widows, Cushla, is sore provokin', Tig often all that they've left to uo. She, with her lame back, there at her knitlin', Angry with pain, and sad to be old Mind you this, when she starts her twittin', I'd love you less were you hung with gold. Alice Fleming, in Tiie Academy 19 I UNDER THE CHERRY BLOSSOM, liy F. HADLAND DAVIS. Havana and Mine) sat toeelher on a little hill on the outskirts ot a mall Japanese village. It was springtime. Cherry blos soms floated above tbem in big white clouds, with Just a faint suggestion of (pink, as if a sunset were dreaming a far away dream in its petals. The stars 'were beginning to twinkle in the vio let 'robed sky, and the sound of laugh ter came and went in the gentle Ibreeze, mingled with the tremulous note of a temple bell. "How very beautiful it Is," said Mine. "I wonder why the spring taps at my, heart and calls and beck ons, and bids me sing and clap my bands and rejoice. I think the very gods creep across the sky to-night, a great company looking down at the cherry blossoms. See, the movement of their robes almost blows out the stars, and some of them seem to change intq roses and violets." Hayano laughed softly and ca ressed her arm; then he let it fall gently upon the silk flowers of her kimono. "I have a fancy," said Hayano, solemnly, "that my little one must be In love this springtime. Benten San tries so hard to make people fall in love with each other at the coming of spring." "Does she?" replied Mine, making the dimples come and go in her cheeks. "I wish I could fall in love with you, Hayano; but you are so honorably ugly, and your heart Is so full of learned books, that I can only come to you as a friend. "I have often pictured you as an old ascetic, sitting under an Indian sun, with birds making their nests in your hair, while you squint and squint in the effort to always keep in view the end of your nose. Does it not seem funny that Nirvana !s to be found at the very end of our noses?" Mine laughed merrily, and a broad, good natured smile played round Hay ano's mouth. "Did I ever tell you about Tessan?" continued Mine. "Yes, I thought so. He went out to do battle with the Russians, the shining Sun against such a grisly, covetous Bear! A few days ago I had a letter from Tessan telling me he was on his way to Japan and, friend Hayano, he wait ed me to become his wife." "Did he?" replied Hayano, hiding his feelings as he looked at the dis tant sea with a pathway of moonlight streaming away to the horlzou. "I .wish you both all happiness." Mine looked at him for some time. Perhaps this school teacher, this son of a charcoal burner, this man, whose outlook on life seemed so quiet and cold, felt the tapping of springtime just a little, too. "Life," said Hayano softly, "re minds me of that pine tree over there. IWith its thousands and thousands of needles it is weaving a great picture from the stars. And the stars go out sometimes, and the pine trees fall, and so the great white pictures are broken; but life goes on just the same"!" "You are sad to-night, Hayano. Let's talk about soldiers, about bat tlefields and brave deeds. Oh, there Is music in the cannon's roar. I love soldiers, Hayano!" "Yes, yes, ot course you do! " said Hayano. "And you love Tessan. do you not?" "I think I do," replied Mine, who seemed more like a child than a ;waman just then. "I shall always iwan vou as my friend. You will al iws e my friend, Hayano, will you not?" j "Always," replied the man. "And when I am in trouble," con tinued Mine, "you will come to this same spot,' here, underneath these cherry trees?" . "Yes," answered the man. "Tell me," said Mine, "is there any love in your heart for me?" "Little one," replied Hayano, soft ly, "does the sea always ruBh up upon the shore and make the stones dance? No, not always. Sometimes It Is Silent. I am silent to-night. 1 love my work. I love trying to Impart to children that which has delighted my own soul. And perhaps my greatest joy is to see a child catch at the books I love and love them, too. I desire only your happiness. Mine. If you are happy with Tessan, I shall be sappy too." "Yes, yes, my good friend. Oh, I am longing to see Tetsan agiin so, so much! He will walk bravei with a gun and a, sword, and ever so many. br: ave looks will come out of his eves. And he will be wounded a little only a little, Hayano, for the hoiior of Japan. Oh, there is another stand ard besides the standard of battle. It is cnlled the standard of Love!" With a little cry of delight, Mine jumped up and ran quickly down the hill. Hayano st(ll sat under the cherry trees, and, with his eyes wide open, he dreamed his dreams. Just as the dawn appeared he, too, descended the hill. No gladsome shout came from his lips. He walked slowly, and springtime tapped at his heart, and every time he heard her tapping, he said: "I will not let her In!" II. And Tessan came to the little vil lage where Mine lived, and thrilled her heart with battle stories, and frightened her a little with his de scriptions of how the Ru9slaii3 once fired upon a makeshift hospital, and how a Japanese soldier, made mad with cruel wounds, did mock battle with the trees. Much more she loved to sail with her ovir upon the river, whara tfca llllna - -1 I. il drifted into peaceful backwaters, nidden with drooping branches that had a way of stroking the blue nkv with every breath of wind. Here all the world seemed blotted out. She forgot Hayano, and saw only the handsome face ot the' brave Tessan. Surely he was the bravest and most handsome soldier in the Japanese army! It was so these days passed by. In due time the little village was gay with a hannv marriaee the mm-riniro of Tessan and Mine. The good people of the village, poor as many ot them were, all sent their marriage offer ings, and Mine thought she was the happiest of all happy women. III. A year went V:y. Mine carried a merry baby boy upon her back. But Mine was not merry. For the last few months Tessan had crown cold toward her. He used to go away to Tokio and remain there for several days. At last Mine knew whv ho went to Tokio, and the knowledge went deep down Into her heart, and left it aching and sore and verv Inno. ly. Once when Tessan returned to ner, ne sam mat, as he did not want her any more, he had obtained a di vorce a divorce because she did not make rice quite as he liked it! When the trouble came she thrvisM of Hayano Havano. the irnnH hut neglected friend ot hers. Many times sne contemplated asking him to mee, her on the little hill, and tnat often she tried to banish the thought iroiu ner mind. Why should she trouble him now? And yet, eventual ly, she did w.rite to Hayano, and he replied that he would' meet her. And so it came about that on certain spring night Mine Journeyed up the hill, where the cherry blossom hung like a beautiful pink-white cloud. Her baby boy laughed at the moonlight. Mine wished that he would not laugh quite so much now! How steep the hill seemed to-nieht. and how long the way! She rested many times on a bowlder, and once she thought eh9 would retrace her steps. Then she caught tight of a familiar figure looking in the direc tion of the sea. Once more Mine pressed wearily forward, nearpr nnrt nearer to that calm form so peace fully waiting for her cominz. It seemed to Mine that Peace sat under the cherry blossom, and she wanted reace lo-nignt. Just as the little mother reaehcrl her destination a cloud covered the moon. She put out her hands eaeerlv and touched the silent form. "Is that you, Hayano?" "Yes," replied the man. T am on glad you have come. I have not seen you for such a long time. You are In trouble. I could tell that hw touch of your hands in the dark. Tell me all about It. little one. it -.. a heart bo much to reveal a sorxow to another, does It not?" Yes, Hayano. I think It dope. 1nt a little." And Mine squatted down by his side, and remained silent for a long time. Little oae, I am vaitinc for von to tell mo about your trouble," said me man, gently. And 1," replied Mine, "am wait. ing for the words to come! My tongue and throat are so dry to-night. Have patience with this Ions silence of mine. I ennnot speak yet: " "I will wait," said the man. "I :now what that silence means, too?" Mine pressed his fingers very tight y In her own for answer. "Dear Hayano, have you heard any thing about me ot late?" "No, little one. I have heard ot your marriage, that Is all." The baby boy cooed softly to him self, and then laughed because he held ia h'.z wee hand a cherry Llos som. "What was that sound?" said Hay ano, hastily. "That was my child, my little boy. He Is very happy to-night. I don't think It s very kind ot him to be quits so happy to-night!" "I am so glad yo- have a little child," said the man, eagerly. "Some day I shall be able to teach him, glad In the thought that he is your child." "Hayano! Don't talk like that! It hurts me. "Listen. Have you heard ot the fisherboy, Urashlma, how he married the beautiful daughter of the Sea God?" "Oh, yes! But please tell me the story again." fc 'Tls a sad story; but Urashlma Is very much like other men. His beau tiful wife gave him all her love In that great palace under the singing sea, where there were wonderful Jew els, red and blue and green. But presently UraBhima grew restless. He wanted to go away and see the world again. His wife gave him a box and told him never to open It. But when Urashlma had seen the world he opened the box. A wonderful cloud came out and sailed away Into the blue and vanished. And Urashlma became a very, very old man and never went back to the palace of the sea again." Mino paused, and then continued: "Hayano, If a woman's heart is big with love it cannot hold a man tor long. Like Urashlma, he goes away. and never comes back again. He openB the box ot the woman he once loved and scatters the sacred treasure to the four winds. Tessan was like that. And now he has put me away. But it is better so. Watching his coldness grow, day by day, was terri ble, terrible! 1 wish the spring had not tapped at my heart. I think it was the ghost ot a spring long ago that tapped! " Hayano gave a half stifled cry, re leased his hand from the grasp ot Mine, and silently took the child into his arms, and caressed the small head and felt with one finger the tiny wet mouth, open a little in wonder. "Hayano, Hayano, what is the mat ter?" said Mine, in a pitiful little voice. "Oh, I wish the clouds would go away from the moon. I want to see your face again so much!" "But It is such an ugly face, Mine," said the man, trying to laugh with burning tears in his eyes. "There is so much feeling behind It, dear man of my heart!" Hayano started. He had never heard Mine speak like that before. He went on caressing the child, and a thrill ot unspeakable joy quivered through him when small fingers wriggled against his chin. "Hayano," said Mine, very tender ly, "I want to tell you something. I want to tell you that I never loved Tessan as I love you now. A year ago you desired my happiness. Dear lord, all my happiness is In your keep ing now! . . "Wait till the moon comes out be hind the clouds," was all Hayano said, as he rested his face against the small head of the boy. Presently the moon Bbone forth and lit up the quaint figures sitting under the cherry tree. Mine, with a sharp cry of pain, saw her old friend in the robe of a Buddhist priest, a priest holding in his arms a little child as it it were his own. Then Hayano said, in a voice husky with emotion: "Little one. I cannot marry you now.. I have entered the service of the Lord Buddha, I have taken the vows of celibacy, and they cannot bo broken. I have always loved you, Mine, but I did not know until to-night, until it was too late, that I could make you happy. And the pine trees work with their thou sand needles star pictures, and the wind comes, and the pine trees fall without having finished their weav ing; but life goes on just the same, doesn't It, little boy, that I sha'.l teach Borne day?" Once more tho moon became hidden In a cloud. There was silence under the cherry blossom; but the far away waves broke upon the shore, and they seemed, to murmur,. "Urashlma! " Black and Whits. Lake Tahoc Sinking. According to recent reports Lake Tahoe in the Sierras Is falling rapid ly. The lake is situated on the boun dary of Nevada and California near Reno, Nev. About a month ago it was observed that the waters were receding. In four weeks' time they had dropped fully six feet. The cause of the subsidence is a mystery. Two years ago the waters rose rapidly to such a height that the surrounding towns were serlouBly threatened. The lake Is very deep, and Is situated In what some believe to be an extinct volcano. Possibly the mysterious changes ot level may be due to vol canic action. According to a legend of the Washoe Indians the waters once were hurled out of the lake by some subterranean force and over whelmed the inhabitants of towns in the valley to the east. Shepherds believe the' wool sa a sheep's back Is an unfailing barome ter. The curlier the wool tho finer will be the weather. No goods can be landed In Turkey which bear a trade-mark at all ra semlilins a crescart. A LOOK INTO THE FUTURE SHOWS IT WILL BE A STRANGE WORLD INDEED FOR OUR POSTERITY. . "s. 1 Anthracite Gone, Soil Wasted, Electricity the Savior v By the Time City 3 4s Mature Sun's Rays Will Be Conserved, Watercourses Will Be Chains of Reservoirs and Air Will Fertilize Earth So Says Dr. Steinmatz. Dr. Charles Proteus Steinmetz, pro fessor of electrical engineering at Union College, Schenectady, and con sulting engineer of the General Elec tric Company, predicts that all young men now living will see the exhaus tion of our supply of anthracite. The natural course then will be to rely upon our deposits of soft coal for pro tection against freezing, but the Gov ernment, In Dr. Stelnmetz's opinion, will be obliged to prohibit this or the air we breathe will become permeated with poisonous gases. The hope ot the future for life, as Dr. Steinmetz sees It, lies In electricity. The United States that Is to come will be a country entirely devoid of Its present river scenery. The rivers of the future will be merely a succes sion ot sluggish lakes, with electrical power stations In between. All the little Btreams will have been utilized and their combined strength con verged into the great bodies of water that are to supply the heat, light and power of the future. But even the husbanding ot all our water power won't be sufficient. There must be economy along other lines. The energy of trie sun Itself must be trapped and saved. Our building methods will have to un dergo a change. Provision will have to be made for the utilization ot the sun's rays In the heating ot our (or somebody else's) homes. Dr. Steinmetz also sees In the mind's eye the city of the future a collection of office buildings, factories and bachelor apartments. All the married men with their families will have moved to the water-courseless country. The development of the uses of electricity Is already bringing this change about. Dr. Steinmetz took this look Into the future In a lecture at the Amer ican Institute of Electrical Engineers, 33 West Thirty-ninth street. The lec ture was given for the New York Electrical Trade School, and most of the audience were students from that institution. Dr. Stelnmetz's subject was "The Future of Electricity." Dr. Steinmetz said that the handi cap against 'electricity now Is its high cost of production. That high cost Is occasioned largely by the Irregular nature of the distribution. Electricity supplied for twenty-four hours to a mill could be obtained on one cent per kilowatt hour, whereas the elec tricity used for lighting purposes would cost ten times as much. The hope of the future for economy, In Dr. Stelnmetz's opinion, lay in the or ganizing of electrical power supply so that It would go out evenly over the twenty-four hours, and not In a hap hazard and unsystematic way as at present. "The cost of production," said Dr. Steinmetz, "depends on the distribu tion of the 'loads,' and when they can be evened out over the twenty-four hours In a systematic way the end will have come for kerosene and gas as illumlnants." The same conditions will usher in the age of cooking by electricity, if the coal supply hasn't given out be fore then. "The time will come," said the pro fessor, "when we will have no more coal, and It Is not far In the future. Anthracite will not last long; many ot us who are here will be alive when the last Is gone. Many ot us will see the time when there is only soft coal. Some ot you may see the time when soft coal Is exhausted, but probably not, for there is a supply of this even in Greenland's icy mountains. But, nevertheless, we can. see the end, and when we approach it what are we go ing to do to keep from freezing? That seems to be the problem that the next generation will have to meet, and maybe we ourselves. "But the Nation aUo will have to wake up to the problem of the poison that escapes In the burning of soft coal. Look out around Pittsburg where we see the pine trees dying. They have been poisoned. The ever green tree, like ourselves, has only one set of lungs. Other trees get a new set every year. If you go through all those valleys where the great steel plants are you will never find a pine. It may be even before the' Boft coal is gone that we may have to drop its use, that we will wake up to the vic lousness of the practice of burning it. "And what does this mean? It means that we must us9 electrical power. When we reach the end of the soft coal the only remaining sources that will keep us from freez ing are the water powers. . We are developing the country's water power now, but we are only making a be ginning. In the single State of Mas sachusetts there is more water power going to waste than is found In Ni agara herself. "Electricity in the future will have to solve the problem of collecting the water power. Now we convert It where we find it into electricity; we haven't started collecting it as yet. We have been dreaming of transport ing Niagara's power to New York. They will never do that, but the dif ferent powers joined together may feed the same system. "What we get to-day, however, of our real water power is a n.ere noth ing. No attempt is made to get the enormous power that goes to waste in the spring floods. Look at the enor mous unused power iu -the little creeks and rivulets. New methods will have to be devised for collecting the joint power ot all these! creeks and rivers. That is what we will have to do when we face the possibility of freezing. "There are hard times coming for future generations. We can see now In what direction things will tend. We think now It Is not worth while doing these things, but the time will come when they will have to be done. They won't live in houses such as we have now. They will have to collect the sunshine. They will appreciate that it takes a lot of electrical power to produce a little heat." But In Dr. Stelnmetz's opinion there Is a vaster problem facing the nations of the world a problem which only electricity ' can solve. That has to do with the exhaustion of the soli. It's a cardinal principle that you've got to put back into the soil what you've taken out If you are going to keep the soil's capital intact. That hasn't been done in this or other countries. New England, for instance, is no longer a farming country. The capital there, according to Dr. Stein metz, has all been taken from the soil. The time will come, too, when the West will be exhausted, and we can go no further. "We will face the Pacific, and be yond that," said the speaker, "the millions of China." The attempt to fertilize the ground put back, Dr. Steinmetz held, only a small proportion of what was taken out, and It would be only about ten years when the supply of saltpeter, used In fertilizer, will have been ex hausted. "When the capital of our farms," said the speaker, "Is exhausted, we will have to produce fertilizer. A large part of what we take out of the soil we dump into the rivers as sew age. Billions of dollars of capital Is carried down by them into the ocean. But we cannot hope to utilize all of this. "Electrical power is the only means that will combine the elements of the air necessary for a fertilizer. That process we are just reaching the production of fertilizer from the air. It is not practical yet; the cost of electrical power is too great. This fertilizer' is produced only In Sweden, where, electrical power Is extremely cheap. Every year we can see the necessity of restoring the capital to the farm. That situation will have to be met within our lifetimes." Referring again to the possibilities In our water supply, Dr. Steinmetz said: "We may get an enormous amount of power by collecting the water. There will be .no more creeks and rivers. The rivers will be lakes joined by power stations. It will not be a question of saving the beauties of na ture but of saving human life. All will have to be utilized, c"cn the spring floods, In restoring what has been taken from the soil. We might be able to get along without physi cians the human race would prob ably continue but we would not be able to. get along without the elec tricians." Dr. Steinmetz, speaking of the de velopment of the uses of electricity on railways, said that its effect on the social life ot the Nation had been and would be Incalculable. "To realize it," said he, "go out Into the country. An enormous change Is gradually taking place. In the old days the country districts were becoming depopulated; the peo ple were moving to the cities. Now conditions are changing. The city is rapidly sending its people back to the country. The overpopulation of the cities Is being relieved by the country becoming practically part of the1 cities. The city is fast becoming the place of business, with factories ofllce buildings and boarding houses for bachelors. The families will live In the country. This will progress further and further until the Nation will again live in the country but work in the cities and towns." Dr. Steinmetz believes also that the application of electricity to rail roads and to street car lines will ulti mately afford the solution ot the labor problem on the farm. "At present," said he, "tho farmer complains that he hasn't enough help; that the farm has been depopu lated. He wants a man for only 'a few weeks in a year, and then he is through with him. By operating be tween the town and the farm the elec tric roads will make It possible for the town man to meet those periods of demand and to work in the fac tories the rest of the time. At pres ent this isn't feasible, but the time will come when we will have to econ omize. The time will come when we will have to co-operate in systemlcally distributing according to the season the work that is to be done. Then we will combine the city and the town." New York Sun. Strong Upon Him. Miss Mathilda Owens hung upon the arm of the editor of the Laneviile Bugle, to whom she had been en gaged for three years, and endeav ored to turn his gaze toward the sky. "Just notice the moon, William!" she said in a melting voice. "At the usual rates. Matilda, 1 shall be happy to do so," ho replied. Yo,ih'" ravauloa. I New York' City Then ahd Jot Impression Are Sometimes Made Upo-i Children's Hinds Which Last For LHe , By P B. VAN SYCKEL. Not being sensitive about telllni my age, I would say that not far from fifty-eight years ago, when but a small boy, I accompanied my father to New York City, over the New Jer sey Central Railroad, when that road, at that time, or a short time previous, did not extend farther than to Clin ton, N. J., as its western terminal. Upon our arrival in New York City we strolled up Broadway as far as where Park Row now leads off from Broadway in front of Trinity Chapel and the Postofflce. There we stood gazing for a while at workmen busily engaged removing old tombstones and graves, to prepare the plot of an old grave yard for the opening of Park Row street, and for what has later occupied that locality, Including the present Postofflce building. The Brick Presbyterian Church, which was removed to Fifth avenue and Thirty-seventh street in 1858, stood at that time on the corner ot Beekman and Nassau streets. This was the church edifice, I imagine, which I then saw still standing to the eastward, near this old burying ground. This scene often looms up In my mind, when I contemplate the pres ent immensity of New York City, the most Important financial and com mercial centre In the world to-day, with about 4,000,000 people, and growing rapidly. At that time we would have quite reached the northern boundary of the qity in a few minutes' walk. ' But If we look back to 1626 we find, at the extreme lower end of Manhattan' Island, only a few scat tered one-story and one-story and a half cabins among the trees, sur rounded by rocky and reed grown shores. These houses, history tells us, were covered, sides and roof, with bark or thatch. Twenty-two thousand acres of Man hattan Island, on which New York City now stands, had been bought from the Indians at a price, In glit tering beads, bright colored cloths, etc., aggregating an estimated value. In price paid, of $24, equal to about one-tenth of a cent an acre. To-day the same acreage is valued at many, many millions of dollars. Some years later the first church erected on Manhattan Island stood near the foot of Broad street. Even the extreme lower part of New York City to-day was then a tract of nas-. ture lands and swamps. What are now streets In this part of the city were then, in part, cattle paths. Hence the crooked and winding course of some of them. One or two streets, Beaver street In particular, was then a drain or ditch. A canal ran through Broad street. Such huntsmen as President Roosevelt could have found their big game of deer, bear, and even wolves, at the outskirts of this early settle ment, not far from the extreme lower end of Manhattan, even at as late a. date as 1680 to near 1700. In 1750 there was a famous horse race track on what was known n th Church Farm, the southern boundary or which was "within a stone's throw from where the Astor House now stands." Horse racing was the chief delight of the "high gentry" of New Yorkers In those days. The owner of the best horse received what was then termed a "subscription plate prize." I as sume that betting, as now conducted at the races, which Governor Hughes .3 commendably warring with, was cot then indulged in. But stridt. on. and look at New York City of to-day. Space allowed me in your columns, Mr. Editor, will admit of but a glance at one aspect of it. This, however, will throw re flective light upon wjiat would fill many columns, to relate the present ' day proportions of New York City. I quote some of the monumental public and semi-public works planned and under way in New York City, to be completed within, say, a decade, an aggregation unprecedented In the world's history! The Grand Central terminal, 150.000.000: the Penna. R. R. tunnel and terminals, $125,000,- 000; the McAdoo tunnels, $50,000, 000; the Battery Belmont tunnels. $21,000,000; the Hudson River inter State bridge, $75,000,000; six new bridges to Brooklyn, $130,000,000; tw.nty-nine coming sky scrapers, 700 . ieet high, as announced, $50,000, 000; apartment hotels, $100,000, 000; other designated New York City ' improvements underway or an- ' nounced to come within the next ten years, $200,000,000. This list alone aggregates an enor mous expenditure of hard on to one billion dollars. How much unannounced, and yet under contract, which will come for ward within the present decade, is scarcely conjecturable. Irvington (N. Y.) Gazette. True Charity. . Every good act Is charity. Giving water to the thirsty is charity. Re moving stones and thorns from the road Is charity. Exhorting your fel low men to virtuous deeds is charity. Putting a wanderer in the right path is charity. A man's true wealth is the good he does in this world. When he dies mortals will ask what prop- . erty has he left behind him, but an gels will Inquire, "What good docda hast thou sent before thee?" Mo hammed. The union movement is bfinntos to make rapid strides amous the farm laborers ia Ireland.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers