JOHNNY.
H cnn scamper a mile to the baseball field.
And he never feels the lient ;
But, oh, it'a bo far to the corner store
n 6o or for his aching feet.
He cnn run to see the circus come in,
Ami stand end watch liy the hour;
But the postolliee buiMing is so fur away,
And there might come up a shower.
He can set up at five on the Fourth of
July
It's really no trouble at all;
But eicht is too early on all other days.
And his mother may call and call.
lie can sit up all hours to frolic, and not
Get sleepy or tired a bit;
But, if there's a lesson, or problem to do.
He goes fast asleep over it!
0 Johnny, dear Johnny, how funny you
are!
And when will grown-up understand
That hard things seem eauy, and easy ones
hard,
To youngsters all over the land
1 . Emma A. Lente, in Ziun's Herald.
Crossing the Bar.
By VENA ROSS MORSE.
1' The last rays of the setting sun
atole softly Into the spotless little
room where Martha, wife of Abram,
the blacksmith, lay motionless In her
blgh-posted, old-fashioned bed.
The old high chest of drawers with
the snowy towel across the top took
on a new lustre as the light struck
It, and the reds and blues in the
iwell-worn rag carpet looked even
brighter than In broad daylight.
Even the raised edges of the Irregu
lar patch near the bed looked less
forbidding than usual to the stck
Ionian as she lay drinking In the last
glories of the day. Soon the light
laded, leaving in Its place a soft
Bweet dusk, filled with the perfume
ct flowers, the cheerful chirp-chirp
cf the cricket and the plaintive night
call of the birds In the neighboring
.woodland.
Gazing with unseeing eyes where
the light had touched, Martha went
over her life as she had done so
many time before since she had re
gretfully, but uncomplainingly, laid
down the burden of home cares. It
had now been seven months since she
had left her little room, and for the
last halt of that time, she had been
confined to her bed. The nature of
her disease the country doctors did
not know, so she lay patiently wait
ing for the end.
Abram, her faithful companion for
fifty years, cared for her 'as tenderly
as a devoted, clumsy old man could,
hut helped by a visit from one or an
other of their kind neighbors every
day.
1 "Marthy likes my gruel and toast,"
he would say with a smile of satis
faction, as broth, jellies and fruits
were donated by willing friends, who
sought to tempt Martha'B appetite.
'And she did like the gruel and toast
and his companionship, also. And
her sweet, faded face would light up
with love and trust as Abram en
tered with feeble steps, steadying
the tray with its cup of tea and plate
of toast. How many times he had
.waited upon her and never a word
of complaint, but always that kindly
Smile and the solicitous "Feel better,
Marthy?" or "How, now, Marthy?"
Jt was for Abram that Martha was
content to linger and suffer, for was
not there yet a chance that he would
heed his Master's voice and believe
as she had believed since the early
days of their courtship?
Yielding to all else, the old man
steadfastly refused to open his heart
to the pleadings of wife, pastor or
friends. If she could be the means
of bringing him to the fold she felt
as If her life work would be accom
plished and she would gladly leave
ber aching body behind that her tired
spirit might find rest and peace in
her Father's house.
A sharp twinge caused her to
change painfully onto her other side,
and her glance fell upon a faded
photograph of her early home. Then
her thoughts flew back to her old
life; the first visits of Abram; the
Sunday when In all her bright youth
fulness she joined the church of ber
father and mother; the summer day
When she and Abram had promised
those sacred things till death us do
part; the little house where they had
begun housekeeping and then she
drifted into a fitful sleep, her lips
still moving and her fingers twitch
ing nervously over the patchwork
.quilt.
Cautiously Abram entered with the
small hand lamp and placed it care
fully and noiselessly in its accus
tomed place. He saw that Martha
was asleep, and he sank into the
high-backed rocker and studied ber
worn face.
He knew as well as she that the
end was drawing near and soon he
would be left alone in the humble
borne that had so long sheltered
them both. The tears welled up in
his eyes and ran over his wrinkled
face, dropping onto his faded vest.
He wiped his sleeves across bis face
and sighed. The rocker creaked as
he moved and the aged wife slowly
opened ber eyes.
Abram rose and deftly arranged
the usual corner of paper around the
lamp chimney so as to shut off the
light from Martha's eyes.
"Abram, come up closer," came
the weak voice, and he wonderlngly
obeyed, as he was already so near
he could touch ber pillow.
"Abram, do you remember the
church where we were married?"
"Yes. Marthy."
"And bow sweet the roses and
things smelled and what a lot of
flowers we had on the pews and In
the vases?"
"Yes. Oh, yes!" still wondering.
"And you remember when we
came here to keep bouse and how
happy, how happy we were?" she ran
on weakly.
"I guess I do, Marthy, as If 'twas
yesterd'y," answered the old man.
"And then you remember when
our first baby came and then left
us before she could say a word but
Daddy'?"
Abram nodded with tears In his
eyes as she continued.
"How we stood over the little
white casket and cried together and
wondered how we should live?"
"Yes, Marthy," chokingly.
"Then you know how little Fred
came, and how we loved him and
about his getting drowned in the
brook?" She had been over it so
many times in her mind that she was
quite calm now as she reviewed It
again.
"Don't, Marthy," sobbed the gray
haired man; "I can't bear it."
"And then the twins," she persist
ed; "they closed their blessed eyes
before we had hardly learned to
know them."
"Yes," repeatad Abram faintly.
He sat with hl3 chin sunk upon his
chest and the tears trickled down
unheeded as he pictured the scenes
which his wife brought before him.
"We loved our babies, didn't we,
Abram?" resumed the weak voice.
"Oh, Abram, if we could only have
them with us again. If we could
only see them once more and feel
their little arms and kiss them."
"Ob, it we only could; If we only
could. I should be ready to go, too,"
sobbed the old man.
"Abram, It Beems as if I could see
them now there see little Annie
and Fred all angels. Oh, see the
lights and the flowers and there
come the twins. And there's the
Saviour lifting them in His arms i
yes, I'm coming mother's coming,
darlings. Walt Just a minute."
With a cry of anguish Abram
dropped on his knees beside the bed.
"Oh, Marthy, I b'lieve, I b'lleve. I
want to go to the children too. Oh,
Lord, have mercy take me too. I'm
a poor Blnner and I haven't been get
ting ready, but I want to come."
The broken prayer and the heavy
sobbing roused the sick woman for
a moment and she realized that all
was well. A. look of content and Joy
overspread her countenance and she
moved her hand until it rested on
Abram's wet cheek. He grasped it
feverishly and the heavy sobs grad
ually subsided, leaving the room in
perfect quiet. Boston Sunday Post.
Stripes and Bars For Him
Ky CASPAR WHITNEY.
The trouble to-day is failure to suf
ficiently punish the reckless driver.
We constantly read of a wealthy
scorcher who deliberately defies the
warning of the motor cycle police
man, and sets out on a race to get
away from him. The fine of ten to
twenty-five dollars for a man of this
sort is ridiculous and makes no im
pression as we see, for the offense is
committed over and over again by
the same individuals. Around New
York there are half a dozen such who
are continuously being arrested and
as continuously offending.
Anent accidents, there is a great
deal of talk in the papers of exacting
a thorough examination of all those
who apply for license, thus intimat
ing that the majority of accidents are
the result of incompetence in the dri
ver; but such is not the fact. There
is no doubt of the desirability of in
sisting on an examination of the
chauffeur before he is given a license,
but the truth Is that the reckless driv
ing and the greatest number of acci
dents come not from the incompe
tence or the Ignorance of the man at
the wheel, but from absolute reck
lessness. The men who give the most
trouble belong to the expert driver
class.
There Is only one way to stop reck
less driving, and that is by rigidly en
forcing a few simple laws. The first
offense should be punished by a fine,
the second offense by revocation of
license for a given period a month
say and the third offense should be
punished by a term of imprisonment.
Accidents that result in the death of
Innocent victims should produce a
charge of manslaughter.
If several of the reckless drivers,
who apparently consider themselves
immune because of their prominence,
should serve a term in jail, I think
there would he an end to criminally
heedless speeding. The Outing Mag
azine. Not a Safe Place.
Old Aunt Hepsy Garstde never had
seen a moving picture show before.
She gazed in Bpeechless wonder at
the magic contrivance by which mes
senger boys were made to move with
breakneck speed, barbers to shave
their customers in less than a min
ute and heavy policemen to dash
along the street at a rate nevjr at
tained by a living specimen, either
on or off duty.
It was all real to her. She could
not doubt the evidence of her senses.
All those things were taking place
exactly as depicted.
Presently an automobile came in
sight in the far background, moving
directly toward the audience at the
rate of at least a mile a minute. Just
as a catastrophe seemed Inevitable it
swerved aside, passed on and dis
appeared. Aunt Hepsy could stand It no
longer. Hastily grasping the hand
of ber little niece she rose and start
ed swiftly for the door.
"Come along, Mlnervyl" she said.
"It ain't safe to suy here any longer.
That thing didn't miss me mors thaa
two feetl" Youth's Companion
MARRIAGE CUSTOMS
OF THE NAVAJOS.
The Navajo Is somewhat polygam
ous In tendency, but as he has to pay
roundly for each wife only the most
wealthy of the tribe can afford the
luxury of several wives.
When a young wife has grown old
and ugly the husband often discards
her, tnklng unto himself a younger
and prettier one. Thus he takes his
wives tandem Instead of abreast, as
the Mormons did.
The Navajo secures his wife by
purchase, and the Navajo maiden
never lacks offers of marriage. She
Is not at liberty to choose for herself,
but Is a sort of standing Invitation
which her mother holds out for In
formal proposals.
The Navajo mother-in-law Is the
greatest on earth, for the daughter
belongs to her mother until married,
when the bridegroom also becomes
tie property of his mother-in-law,
with whom he Is required to live. As
he is also required never to look her
In the face, existence becomes a com
plicated problem
The young girl seldom gets a young
husband, and. the young man seldom
gets a young wife. Property among
the Navajos is mostly possessed by
the old men, so they are, as a rule,
able to offer a larger price for the girl
than is the young man who has not
yet had time to accumulate hU for
tune. It requires several pontes and
a good flock of sheep to buy a young
and buxom Navajo maiden.
"I recently witnessed an old squaw
leading a young girl, about ten years
old, In the school grounds at the Na
vajo agency," says a writer In the In
dian School Journal. "As she ap
proached the agent's office she fell
upon her tace by the sidewalk and
ImmedlaSy set up a loud, mournful
wailing.
"Some of her people must be dead,"
I said to the agent.
" 'No, he replied. 'I know the old
lady well. You see that little girl
sitting there on the sidewalk beside
her? Well, that Is a girl about ten
years old. A short time ago her
mother sold her to an old man for his
wife.
" 'He Is seventy years old and stone
blind. The matter was reported to
me, and I ordered her to bring the
girl to the agency and put her in
school, and that Is what she Is here
for, but she does not want to give
the girl up and that Is why Bhe Is
walling.
" 'She hopes to get my sympathy,
but I will not stand for It. The girl
must go to school, where she be
longs.' "So saying, he called a policeman
and ordered the girl taken to school
and turned over to the matron."
The Navajo wedding ceremony Is
thuB described by A. M. Stephen:
"On the night set for the wedding
both families and their friends meet
at the hut of the bride's family. Here
there Is much feasting and singing
and the bride's family makes return
presents to the bridegroom's people,
but not, c: course, to the same
amount.
"The women of the bride's family
prepare cornmeal porridge, which Is
poured Into the wedding basket. The
bride's uncle then sprinkles a circu
lar ring and cross of the sacred blue
pollen of the. larkspur upon the por
ridge, near the outer edge and in the
centre.
"The bride has hitherto been lying
beside her mother, concealed under a
blanket on the woman's side of the
hogan (hut). After calling to her to
come to him her uncle seats her on
the west side of the hut, and the
bridegroom sits down beforo her,
with his face toward hers and the
basket of porridge set between them,
"A gourd of water Is then given
to the bride, who pours some of It on
the bridegroom's handB while he
washes them, and then he performs
a like office for her. With the first
two fingers of the right hand he then
takes a pinch of porridge. Just where
the line of pollen touches the circle
of the east side. He eats this one
pinch, and the bride dips with her
finger from the same place.
"He then takes Jn succession a
pinch from the other places where
the lines touch the circle and a final
pinch from the centre, the bride's
fingers following his. The basket of
porridge is then passed over to the
younger guests, who speedily devour
it with merry clamor, a custom anal
ogous to dividing the bridii's cake at
a wedding. The elder relatives of
the couple now give them much good
and weighty advice, and the marriage
Is complete."
The Navajos do not bury their
dead. At least they do not inter
them. The Navajo's superstition pre
vents him from even' so much as
touching a dead body.
So before life has entirely left the
bedy it Is wrapped in a new blanket
and carried to some convenient se
cluded spot, where it is deposited on
top of the ground, together with all
the personal effects of the deceased,
and if it be an infant the cradle,
trinkets, etc., are carefully deposited
beside the body. When there are no
longer any signs of life In the body,
stones are rolled up around and over
it, In order, they say, to keep the
coyotes from carrying it off.
If the deceased be a grown person
hi- favorite saddle pony Is led up to
the grave, where he is knocked in the
head with an axe. Here It lies, with
bridle, saddle and blankets, ready for
the journey to the spirit world.
The Navajos never dig a grave
themselves, though they like very
much to have the white people bury
their dead, and It they are anywhere
sear where white people live they
will ask then, la cits they have a
death In the family, to take voarga
of the body and bury It. If by chance
one of their number dies In the house
before they have time to remove him
they immediately set fire to the house
and burn it up, with its contents,
thus cremating the body.
Believing that an evil spirit enters
a body at death, and that If they
come in contact with their dead this
evil spirit will enter into their bodies,
they are afraid to touch a corpse or
even the house in which the person
died.
Upon the death of the head of a
Navajo family all of his possessions
go to his relatives brothers, sisters,
etc. instead of descending to his
wife and children. This custom Is
perhaps the most harmful In effect
of any practiced these days by the
Navajo.
It often leaves the wife and chil
dren destitute, especially-where the
husband owned flocks as well as the
cattle and the ponies. However, the
Navajo women usually own flocks, in
which case the mother and children
have some means of scanty support
at least. New York Press.
QUICKLY THE DOCTORS DIE.
Faster Tlinn Lawyers No Account
of Actors, Authors and Journalists.
If you would enjoy a long life you
should become a minister (of any
religious denomination), or falling
that a gardener, a gamekeeper, a
farmer or a railway engine driver.
These, according to Dr. John Tat
ham's report to the Register-General
on the mortality in certain occupa
tions during the three years from
1900, which was Issued last night,
are the callings which offer the best
prospect of longevity. At the other
end of the scale come the general
laborer, the tin miner, the hawker
and the hotel servant, and about
midway are the physician, the under
taker and the tobacconist.
As compared with lawyers Dr. Ttt
ham records, medical men dlo more
rapidly at every stage of life, while
as compared with the clergy their
mortality Is enormously in excess.
Tuberculosis, phthisis and diseases
of the respiratory organs are the
only causes of death that are sub
stantially less fatal to medical men
than to males in the aggregate. Dis
eases of the nervous and ci.culatory
systems contribute the largest share
to the mortality of medical men, due,
no doubt, to their anxious and ardu
ous occupation.
A sign of the times Is given in the
particulars relating to commercial
travelers. They fall victims to alco
holism In greater proportion than do
all occupied and retired males by
thirty-eight per cent., while their
mortality from liver disease is more
than double that standard. But the
mortality from alcoholism, gout, liv
er disease, accident and suicide was
considerably less in the last period
than In 1880-82.
In the previous supplement it was
remarked that there was no other
occupation in which the ravages of
cancer approached that among chim
ney sweeps. It Is still noteworthy
that although the mortality from
that disease has fallen by nearly one
fourth part, chimney sweeps are still
subject to the highest fatality from
this disease, although among several
other occupations, such as servants
In London, brewers, furriers, general
laborers and seamen, the mortality
does not fall far short of that of chim
ney sweepB. It is a subject which,
bb Dr. Tatham points out, deserves
further attention.
For the first time in these returns
the question of the mortality among
women workers is dealt with exhaus
tively, though It is a matter full of
difficulty. For Instance, the case of
a domestic servant, the daughter of
a bricklayer who has returned home
permanently Invalided, Is given. She
is thenceforward regarded as unoc
cupied, and In the event of death will
be registered as a bricklayer's daugh
ter, no mention being made of her
previous occupation.
In the case of a married woman
this cause would appear to operate
even more strongly, the deceased
woman being described simply as a
wife or widow, with mention of her
husband's occupation but without
mention of her own.
' It is rather curious that actors,
authors and journalists have no
place in these tables, even in the in
dex. Even numerically they must be
almost as important as, say, coster
mongers, wlgmakers and chimney
sweeps, who are all included. Lon
don Dally Chronicle.
Rig Texas Melon.
Robert Longbotham, a farmer near
Shatter Lake, raised an eighty-pound
melon. It is of the Georgia sweet
variety from Texas grown seed.
The seed was planted July 2, the
vine blossomed August 7 and the
melon matured September 18, mak
ing an average growth of two pounds
a day from the time the blossom
dropped off the vine until the melon
ripened, and during Its growth the
melon registered a maximum gain of
six pounds during a single twenty
four hours. Galveston News.
Old London Clubmen's Wager.
The rage for gambling at White's
and Almack's led to most outrageous
betting, as to which Walpole tells
what be calls a good tale:
A man dropped down in a fit before
the door and was carried Inside; the
club Instantly made bets as to wheth
er he would die or not, and when a
doctor was called In to attend blm
his ministrations were Interfered with
by the members, because, they said,
these would affect the fairness of the
beta. London Chronicle.
ENROLLED IN A PATRIOTIC SERVICE.
mi I i ,1.1.. i.lL ,1,11,11 jl I I mi,ii H lmiHIH J I. !!
The Forest Ranger Works Hard, Endures Privations and Receives Small
Pay.
A TEMPLE OF REPUBLICS
On May 11 President Roosevelt, In
the city of Washington, laid the cor
nerstone of the first International
Temple of Peace, Friendship and
Commerce, the tangible evidence of
the desire of the twenty-one American
republics that war shall be no more
In the Western world and that mate
rial prosperity promoted by interna
tional trade shall take Its place. Dis
tinguished men were present at the
laying of the cornerstone and mess
ages were spoken or sent by represen
tatives from all of the twenty-one re
publics of America. The new build
ing Is to be the Joint property of all
the republics. The site provided by
the American Congress la within a
few hundred yards of the White
House and la adjacent to the State,
War and Navy buildings and the Cor
coran Art Gallery. Mr. Andrew Car
negie contributed three-fourths of a
million dollars to the erection of the
building, and each of the republics
has added an appropriation to the
fund. - The building is to be the home
of the International Bureau, main
tained by the American republics,
and Is to be made the centre of a
continuous campaign of education,
where one country may obtain accur
ate and up-to-date information of
any other. A library on all subjects
i n i ".'.t. in ii.Mi. , w.m WW
m ' , . , V ' ' ' ,
i aiinir'MrrraTlJfftiM irTVrinilfliii ir -J i J
THE NEW BUREAU OF AMERICAN REPUBLICS AS IT WILL AP
PEAR WHEN COMPLETED.
American is to 'be secured, and by
every possible means the American
governments are to be brought to
gether with Intimate acquaintance
ship. The imposing building will
stand on a five-acre reservation. It
will be 169 feet square, the main por
tion Btandlng two stories above a
huge studded basement and being in
turn Burmounted by dignified balus
trades. The rear portion, In order to
cover a capacious assembly hall, will
rise still higher. The general archi
tecture will suggest Latin-American
treatment, out of respect to the fact
that twenty out of the twenty-one re
publics are of Latin origin. A large
reading room will be a feature, where
can be seen all the South as well as
North American publications, besides
Important historical data. A beauti
ful assembly chamber that, for pres
ent purposes, may be called the "Hall
of the American Ambassadors," will
provide the only room of its kind in
the United States especially designed
for International conventions, recep
tions to distinguished foreigners and
for diplomatic and social events of A
kindred nature. The bureau la strict
ly an International and independent
organization maintained by the Joint
contributions, based on population, of
the twenty-one American govern
ments. We have not been without
our difficult problems cf solution In
the United States, but the republics
of South America have had a very
troublesome and disastrous time in
their national and International
EMINENT GERMAN
sjBspsjaBajSlBwai
' ' t i r I a?
: :':: .;-, . - . i -t ' -7"
. v Jt ; " :
' - - X i ?' i , ' ,
DR. ROBERT KQ&i.
struggles and revolutions. The sue
cess of the United States Government
has been a splendid example and in
spiration to the sister republics of the
South, and the foundation of this
Pan-American Palace of Peace
Friendship and Commerce Is an Im
portant epoch.
The Tortoise as a Popular Vet,
To say from 80,000 to 40,000 tor
toises arrive in England annually la
by no means an exaggeration. Ever
Blnce Gilbert White Immortalized his
pet tortoise these animals have been
kept by many people as "destroyera
of beetles and slugs and guardians ot
the kitchen garden," a false Idea,
that no amount of repudiation has
been able to eliminate; though thejr
will eat snails with much relish, they,
greatly prefer their owner's choicest
garden produce. Nevertheless, a tor
toise Is the most popular of reptiles.
London Field.
Trimly Put.
"Ain't the Sox a great team?" de
manded the Chicago girl.
"Yes," admitted the Boston dam
sel. "I must own that you have a
very able aggregation of talent In tM
Half-hose." Louisville Courier
Journal. Poverty of the Rich.
The butler to the millionaire occ j
pant of a Newport villa has sued ore
of his host's guests to recover 8500
money loaned. After the notices by,
Newport grocers that they will no
longer give millionaires unlimited
credit this butler's suit is another to
ken of the comparative poverty ot
some of the newly rich. In many,
households the butler, the chef, tha
footmen and the maids have mora
real money at the end of the month
than the occupants of the villa. They;
get their board and lodging besides
wages. The master has an uncertain
Income, without regular salary or
food and shelter provided by soma
one else. New York World.
One Great Bore.
Gontran has a neat way of openinf
oysters without a knife ho haa onla
to begin telling them a story and they,
Immediately yawn. Le Rlre.
Electricity as a motive power haa
been In nse for twenty-five years.
BACTERIOLOGIST.