dOW SUSAN WAS WON Susan Stebbens was by all odds the best looking girl on Grassy Lick, with- ont being remarkably beautiful, for beanty is not a noticeable characteristie of monntain women, old or young. and _. how she had ever come to marry Lem Skaggs was a wonder to me, for Lem wag by all odds the homeliest man om the Lick, and hom~-liness is a character. istic of mnonntain wen. I knew Lem quite well and had be- friended him on 1mony occasions, even loaning him money enouzh to get mar- pied on; as his crops were not in and he was stant of faeis, and when they had ‘been married about a month I asked . him one day how it happened. He was a good man allover, was Lem, as guile. less asa baby uni as honest as the sun- light, and when 1 .<ked my question he blushed and grinne i. A “She was tnck by my good lnk.” be liughed. 2 ; “Didn't you ¢ourt har pretty hare?’ “Did I?’ and he drew a long breath as of relinf at the than h of its lieing over, *Weli. 1 shoald say I dil. Why, I come mighty nigh morteidein’ the farm to git her thing sha didnt seem to care for - when I git: em to hor.” “What d: > vou ¢ ve her?” “Everythi to'rds the las: i me ef I'd Ima; + Gealiv's they reckon: | od they conld le. ue have cin ut whole sale prices.” : “She couldn't ¢ ndyonr liberality, Lem. That'swhit «7 her” “Not a bit uv it,” ne ontended. “All | the time I wan tal:in' ber all sorts nv things, she wan in =. «83 it every fel’ "far that come alon: and © rier expectin’ | me to keep up my end uv the swingle | treo iict cage! i log groomed to hanker atter doin’ it that way. : “Bat yoa kept a 117 ; “1 reckon not,” lie laughel. “All av asmdden I sot in for Mary Vinnel, and gava the store foli8 a rest on buyin’ things.” ; “Ther what happened” 1 inquired, with a hope of © aing some more ime * formation. : ; He langhed a low, gurgling laugh, sneh as a boy would give vent to when caught in some of his natural depreda- “Well. he said, *‘she kinder swapped eends on toler feilers, and swung around my way. but I wuzn't givin’ a tach, and 1 diiin’t nave no talk with her fer mighty nigh two weeks, and then one evenin' as | was passin’ her honse on my way to Mary's and she knowed it, 1 seen her Langin’ on the gate lookin’ out into the fatura er somethin’ uv that sort thit I ceen a picter uv onc’t an agent was sellin.” “Good evenin',’ says I. not offering | ‘to stop. ; Cd 4 “Good evenin'.’ says she. “Pears #8 | me you're in a terrible hurry.’ : | “Kindler,” says 1, slakin'up some. ‘I | ~ promised to be down to Mary's ‘bout | this time.’ ; : 5 “She kinder looked down at the ground | ‘when I tol: | <r tit, and kicked a little | One ] . § f rock out of tir. oth that wuz layin’ thar © and I fel® lice a sleep stealin’ dog fer sayin’ what 1 Jad.” t s+ reckon you'd letter be hurrin’ | _ along then, fer Mary ain't the kind thas. | likes to be kept waitin',’ suid she. © 8+] ¢'pose,” said 1, ‘that youdon't keep | of I stop and talk to you fer a minute, | do you? ; . +] ain't keorin’ what you do,’ said | she, kinder sallen.: : * You look lice you wuz expectin’ somebody yerself,’ says 1. feelin’ ex ef I'd lke to choke whoever tue fellee | “That's what," said she, and 1 felt : . more’n ever Hike Chokim somebody. j 4 ‘Who is it?Y says I, watchin’ the | streaks uv a laugh ‘round hér mouth ! and eyes. : : : “ “That's fer me to know and you to - find out,’ suid she laughin’ right out. »¢] recon I'll be goin’ on down to ~. Mary's, says I, thinkin’ that | wuzn't ~~ makin’ nothin’ hap an’ around Susan. * ‘Melbe you woukin't ef you know'd who wuz comin’,’ said she, kinder reach- | in’ over the gate. ; “ “Well, tell me, says 1, "and see ef I | stay.’ LE ‘I reckon not,’ said she, still a-n~g- gim me, 'mebbee they wouldn' like ne ; “ “Who's they,’ cays l. “She gave a little chuckle, and I come up to the gate and rested my hands on it ! ‘to ome side uv her's. J L _ ** ‘Pap and mother.’ says she. ‘They've | gos down to the schoolhouse to preach- | in’ ..ad won't be back till about eight o'clock.’ «Ain't you kinder lonesome waitin’ ‘hyer by yerself, Susan? says I, half way tryin’ to pull the gate open, but she held “it shet. ++] veckon I wus,’ says she. ‘That's why Icame out and hung on the gate. It's mighty still like in the house.’ “Yom reckon you wuz? says I. ‘Aint . you, now? and I chuckled myself fer .ketohin’ her. + P'raps I am and p'r'aps I ain't,’ she ggered, and tossed her head. : +1 tried to open the gate but she held itshet.” “Ef you don’t ‘want me to stay, why don’t you say so,’ gettin’ ugly. «+I reckon you kin, ef you want to,’ says she, mighty pesky. _ * ‘Susan,’ says I, ‘what's the use uv foolin’? _» Foolin’ about what? says she. « «About me and you,’ says I. ++] ain't a-foolin’ says she. «+You air,’ says I, ‘and you know it.’ = : : « ‘Ef you don’t like me, Lem Skaggs,’ "says she, brindlin’ up all over, "you kin goalong. I didn'tax you to stop, did “But I do like you, Susan’ says I, gittin’ skoert, and trying to pull the gate open sos I could git clos't enough to her to coax her. : «+f reckon. you lke Mary Finnel a sight better, says she, holdin’ the gate . ag'la me. : «+I pocizon 1 don’t,’ says, and I could “You wouldn't ‘alk that a-way ef she wnz in hearm’ distance,’ says she. “ “Wouldn't I” says I, and I heaved and sot on the gate, but it didn’t move a peg. ‘Yom jist fetch her up here and seeef I wouldn't.’ io) ; : “No, yon jist go down thar.’ says she, ‘that's whar vou started fer.’ *I didn’t do nothin’ uv the sort,’ says I, gittin' despriter every minute “ “You told me youn did,” says she, and I could feel the gate give some and then shet up agin. : © “Yon onghter know, Susan,’ says I serious, ‘that I wuz jist a-foolin’, and 1 could feel the gate a-givin’ way and shettin’ and then giving way agin. ““*An’ you ain't lyin’ now, Lem? says the, a heap sight softer thanany time in her life. > “Conrse I ain't, Susan,’ says I, and the gate came open abont six inches. *“ ‘Ef T only thought you wnzn't, Lem,’ gays she, lettin’ the gate slip my way a lettle more every minute, : “Youn know I ain't, Snuean,” says 1, givin’ the gate the strongest pull vit. ‘You know "it, and yon know I never give a snap uv my finger fer any other gal in these parts and that all the time I've been a hankerin’ atter you and i. : ap. wantin’ yon fer my wify, bunt yon kep’ { foolin® with me all along and bustin’ my i heart michty nigh, and makin’ me want It got 30 bad | ie folks Lt tha store told | to go off and chop a tree down on my- self. Yon know it Snsan, you know it,’ and she Listen her hands and the gate swung wide open, * “What about Mary? says che, stand- thar before me lookin’ sweeter'n peaches and rosies, | ** ‘Dern Mary,’ says I. clean forgittin’ | poor Maxwell; he is im love with ome love you!" . my manners, and I retch cut both my of the maids and is therefore inca hands fer Susan. | pacitated for the trifling duties of every 40h, Lem! said she, and-—well Col- onel.” he laughed a8 his honest face red- | denod beneath its saffron hone. ‘I reck- onyou're old enongh to know the bal’ ance.” - ‘I wonldn’'t be surprised, Lem,” I re plied, blushing just a shade myself as a memory or two came slowly back from ' the rosy past, : : He looked np smiling. “And say, Colonel,” he said,"'I wnzn't any prettier that night than I wuz be- | fore.” 7 i “Come off, Lemnel,” said I slapping | him on the back, ‘it was so dark Susan | couldn't see you."—New York Sun. BIGGEST LENS IN THE WORLD. | The Great Glass of the Yerkes Telescope | Is Larger than the Lick. i We are likely during the coming sum- | i mer to learn more about Mars than as | tronomers during the history of their science have discovered up to the pres ent time about that planet and its peo | ple. : It required the 28-inch telescope of the | United States Naval Observatory to dis | cover the satellites of Mars. Then the Lick telescope, with its 386 inch glass, was built, and immediately the three strange signal lights on Mars was dis- { covered. Now the great 40-inch lens—the hugest telescope glass ever made—which | Alvan E. Clark has been working on for | more than a year at Cambridge. Mass., | for the Yerkes telescope, is completed and will soon be shipped to its destina- again, “but you do mot know any of | of New Jersey. With the Stocktons, the | in fees and tion. The big telescope at the Naval Obser- | vatory had been unable to bring out the ' signal light of Mars, as the telescopes before that time had failed to note the +4 | satellities, and the Yerkes telescope will physician, be so much bigger than the Lick, now | the largest in the world, that astrono- | mers are confident astonishing discover. jes may be made as soon as it is set Whe knows but that looking through the great 40-inch glass of this huge in- | strument, astonoruers will be enabled to make out definitely the systrm of sig- | nals which the Martians are believed to i be using in an effort to commuicate with the inhabitants of Earth? Even the great canal system of Mars, as is suspected by more than one, may turn out to be a gigantic semaphore, How She Keeps Her Freshness. Until the physiological principles ! which account for the phenomenon are understood, it must remain a puzzling i £11 thatan actress's life should be more favorable to fhe preservation of good { looks, and even of girlish freshness, than the life led by women who occupy: their natural sphere, and who cultivate —as they think-—all the physical and moral virtues. A successful actress must. work ex- | tremely hard, generally by artificial light and in a gas-befouled atmosphere. Her hours for work, meals, and sleep are all utterly bad from the hygienic point of view. and not infrequently she makes tad worse by falling into thes bohemian habits which are an immemo- rial tradition of her class. Her secret, apart from the laws regulating the ex- pression anfl nutrition of the face, cen- sists chiefly of avoidance of monotony and petty worries—those arch-enemies of feminine good looks and good tem- per. Her work, if arduous, is generally performed both with earnestness and lightness of heart; and. above all, she gets a sufficiency of bodily exercise of the kind—although not under the com- ditions—most conducive to health; viz, exercise involving quick and general movements of the muscles, combined with a certain amount of mental ex- citement.—Blackwood's Magazine. Se Killed His Man. I once asked a friend who had fought all through the war if he had ever killed a man that he positively knew of. : © «ayes. said he, remorsefully, ‘at Bull Run I ran at the first fire. A rebel chased me for ten miles and was then so exhausted that he dropped dead.” (iladstone now finds the theater—his constant solace for many years—too | much for him except as a rare indulg- enee. He says he detects in himself a slippers and a game of backgammon, Pe feel the gate give a little. and is under the impression that he 1s growing old, i - a BE UES ANE WEEP, deeper emotions; it may ba 1iet you a; 80 dear to him that he fears to lose your | friendship in asking for your love. It: may be that he puts so poor an estimate | ; upen himself that in his wilde:t dreams : Sd HOW ya cannot imagine your car ng for him, | ame you 1) write al Who knows? perhaps at this moment! She laughed softly. “TI knew you 1. 150es vou with all his strength, yet | would ask. 1 said to myself, ve will dares not. speak, for fear of yonr wav scarcely recognize it as mine,” “True! for you to be the author of an intense little love song, where 083 can almost feel the heart beating. the warm blood leaping, seems to me slichtly in- congruons,”’ . BEING A WOMAN. He laid the magazine down. “That is. a good bit of work,” he said, “one of the eleverest things you have done. ing him ‘aside as something of little worth.” on “Yon pleid his gase well” she said. | “One mizht imagine that, in vour day, | you had known what it was to let vanity i stand in the way of happinése, Tell me | “And vet 1 am no Puritan.” “In one ense-—-1no; but von neverthe- Jess embody my + of the self-con- trolled womnn of the world--a womar who will never let passion sway nor feel ing govern her act a8” “Being a coli woman,” she said, “a criticism like yours will necessarily no¥ phase me.” i “When did. a criticism of mine ever phase you!" he retorted. ‘Yon are too confident, too self-assured for that.” “What a disagreeable sort of person I must be,” she mused. “How can you bear to be with me? Do you come to see | me from pure kindness—becanse yoado not wish towound me? Sn CCE find no pleasure in talking (o-oo co Qn feeling.” “Nevertheless I do: T rarely leave this house without registering a vow nevar to return, but as surely as the day comes round I find myself once more _ ‘age him a triad —if you carad for a woman—curad for her enouch fo ask her to be your wife, | would von (loving her like tais) hold | because, forsooth you did | £21 cure what her answer would | i { your pence, : be?” : Assnredly,” he said. i “Crael, wigenerous!” sha cried, | springing tol tell her wher even thongh she gnessed | the frulh. bei # a woman, «52 cond not speak? Oh, I know what von would say—I have “Any wom to her.” Thi step the boun can make a man propose | snot true. Let her over- s ever =o slightly, encour. « too much, show him too | plainly what | or heart is and be turns | away in disgu-t. Ah. if the day should | come when von find yourself in the place of the character we have conjured up—I pray yor. of your goxiness, tell her the truth.’ : i card the old tale before: { “I have never underrated your facility .ccrat. 1 might ave been ‘my lady and Jated Senate. riding at your gate.” i oe ‘“Nodonlt ringing several times before | He took a ha 1 step toward her. being admitted,” she laughed; “but you | “Margaret,” he said, and his voice fal- who belisve in sentiment, will forgive tered. “do with me what you will—I There was a moment's silence—a Bi | lence fraught with feeling. ‘Then she day.” : lifted her ayes. They were full of “Doubtless jou find the case intep- tears esting from a peychological point of “If I could.” she said m a low voice, view?’ : % ap “Twonld turn your words off with a “I do. Mamma wishes to dismiss langh—pretend, as I have done with them both, but I have begged that they many. that I thought you were only in be allowed to remain. I tell yon thisto (est; Imt the time for that is past. I show you what an overflowing fund of can play a part no longer, Archie” (the uessed long ago. I have loved you attributes of my character.” ii my life.” New Orleans Times-Dem- | “Whatever else I have done,” he said, ome ns. i 3 for turning things into ridicule. Itis a 2 - : SENATORIAL FAMILIES. = | fatal gift--that of seeing always the | comic side of life. Is is all well floners that Have Descended From Father hd : : i . | Jonen While you are young; bat ons te Bom, and Herther, | “ ‘Some day, I know not when or | In this country, where distinction is | how,’” she hummed, ‘‘by that time, my | von by individual worth rather than by | ese aren { | friend, I will have grown so indifferent Vv ealth or birth, it is rather a striking to everything that nothing will matter l1.ct that ip all legislative history only much one way or the other. In the f ve instances occur where the honor of | meanwhile, ‘vive la bagatelle!’ ”’ a seat in the United States Senate has | “And is it to be always thus? he le scended in the same family from gen- | cried. “Will you never grow weary of | e-ation to generation,” said Attorney- | the husks of life? Will you never crave | (General Stockton, of New Jersey, some | something better than admiration and | time ago. speaking of the deuta of the | flattery—the mere surface pleasures of | late Senator Colquitt, of Georgia. a society woman's existence? Have you | Following up the suggestion in these not sometimes thought there would be | words, many facts were brought to ligh$ more happiness in love” | not generally known, but. interesting, She lifted ber eyes. ‘‘So you think | nevertheless, to an explorer of the by- | then 1 have not been loveal” ! paths of history. The families thus She got up and from the drawer of a | honored by their fellow citizens are the cabinet took out a book of photographs. | Bayards, of Delaware; the Camearons, of | “I am going to do an mmconventional Pennsylvania: the Colguitts, of (Georgia, thing,” sbe said, when she was seated and the Frelinghuysens and Stacktons, | these men. so there can be no breach of descent has been longest and most direct. | confidence. Come here” —she motioned | Richard Stockton was a member of the him to the ottonan at ber sile. **This | Continental Congress, an while so serv- man,” she touched the first picture ing gigred the immortal Declaration, | lightly, “is a distinguished Northern | His son Richard served in the United I met him one suminer in | States Senate from 1793 until 1798; his We were both of us off for a grandson, the celebrated Commodores | rest’ sometimes people are at their best Robert Stockton. of 1812, served in like then); be that as it may, we saw a good capacity from 1X51 until 1853, and his deal of each other, and before we parted great-grandson, John P. Stocitton, now in the autumn he offersd me morethan Attorney-General of New Jersey, was friendship.” elocted Senator in 18363 and again in “He hus a fine face,” be said. | 1869. ee ‘od “This other isa lawyer who graduated The Bayards also can boast of four with distinction from a celebrated East- Senatorial representatives, althcugh the ern college; he has a clear and logical descent has not been entirely from father mind, one that cannot be deceived by to son. James A. his sons Jumes A. mere appearances. He also” —she tamed. and Richard H., and his grandsoa, the page. “This boyish looking fellow Thomas F., the present Ambissador to is the only son of an English notletaan. England, have all had seats in the my letters from ‘Something-or-Other, Three Freelinghuysens have been Sen. | | Park’ or from ray townhouso in Londom ators: Frederick, his son Theodore, and | had I desired. The dark haired foreignes his grandson. Frederick Theodore. With | is a Russian—the De Vaures introdnced the Colguitts and Camerons the office him to me in Paris; he has written sev- has descended from father to son. | eral articles on the American woman's Should the historian undertake to | femininity. The man in uniform is 8 gketch the careers of these fifteen men, y German--but why go oa?" flicking the he would be compelled to discuss almost | pages slightly, “I have gained my the entire history of the Government, | point, hive I not? You believe now for, including the time they served as that I occasionally inspire affection?” members of the House of Representa- Her tone was wistful, though sl® gives, there are only eighteen years in smiled. : | the history of the country when the ~How you misunderstand me,” be name of some one of them does not ap- cried. ‘You know very well I never | pear on the Natiomal legislative rolls, said you were incapable of awaking af- and in almost all of these years their fection (you cad make any man love yo& representatives were serving country or if you wish), but the game once won, the State in other high offices of trust. The conquest made, and your interest in the | aggregate of their Congressional careers, affair wunes—that is what [ complain of, | including Richard Stockton’s Conti- your incapacity for appreciating a man’s nental services, is 139 years. Sixty of devotion.” : | these belong to the Bayards, 40 to the She did not answer. The roses on hee = Camerons, 20 each to the Colquitts and breast trembled, the hand holding the | book clasped it a trifle closer. : | “Of all those men.” he went on, “was there none whom you could care for, no | one whose pleadings awoke a responsive 1 i i i Stocktons and 19 to the Frelinghuysens. IN MEMORY OF HIS WIFE. Why Prof. Blackie Always Wein His Plal About Edinburgh. : growing tendency toward a pair of | echo in your heart? Your heart!”"— scornfully—"why should I speak of what | Prof. Blackie frequently stayed at my you do not possess?’ "| house when lecturing in Glasgow. He “Trae.” she echoed, leanmg toward | was always at his best when one had him; “long ago. ere I bad grown so him alome. One night when we were worldly wise, or learned to guard and | sitting up together he said in his brusque fence, to weigh and ponder—I gave my way: heart away! (ave it away to one who, ‘Whatever other faults I have, I am valued the gift so lightly that he scarce- free from vanit v.” An incredulous smile ly realized it was his. And are you so on my face roused him. : lost to chivalry that you would mock “You don't believe that; give me an me for my poverty?’ instance.” : “Margaret!” he exclaimed. Being thus challenged, I said: “I who look at sentiment frem a ‘Why do you walk about fh urishing psychological point of view—who care a plaid continually? : only for the surface pleasures of a so- “I'll give you a history of that, sir. | ciety woman's existence—who see the When [ was a poor man, and when my | ridiculous side of life and not its pathos wife and I bad our difficulties, she one | —have all these years fed my fancy ons day drew my attention to ths thread- dream.” : bare character of my surtout und asked He passed his hand over his brow. ‘me to order a new ome. I told her I | ‘Are you in earnest? Is not this some could not afford it just then; ‘when she jess to torture me? 1 camnot believe | went. like a noble woman, aml put her | the man lives who is indifferent to your own plaid shawl en my shoulcsrs, and 1 | affecticy. Perhaps you wrong him, per- have worn a plaid ever since iz. memory | | haps ha is awkward at expressing hit of her loving deed." —Good Words. COST TO RUN A SHIP. THE BIG ST. LOUIS REQUIRES $80,000 FOR THE ROUNS TRIP. She Furns 815.000 Worth of Cosl—The Bill For Breakage Is Ne Small Affair. Salaries of Officers and Men Are Small, but Some of Them Get Barge Fees. The cost of rimuinz & big ocean grey- hound to Europe and back reaches into the thousands really a floating hotel, and everything on board is conducted am the same feale of lavishness that is found in a fashion- | : > | east. The dew lay on the grasg, a.d the able Fifth avenue hotel : : Clement A. Griscom, Jr., son of the president of the line controlling the St. | Louis, agreed to give some figures to a | World reporter covering the expense of | her voyage to England amd back. He | r foot. Yon would nos | figured for some time and then said that | the hay after the rake, which the the expenses of the reund trip of a steamer like the St. Louis average be- | | tween $60,000 and $80,000, according to | Jou the season. 1 The voyage between the two ports takes a trifle more than seven days, | | making the daily cost of operating in | hi i L, the busy season something like $5,500. | No single individual on the St. Louis | gets a large salary. The captain heads ‘Captains on smaller passanger steamers ! only receive $3,000 a year. The chief i §1,500, and the bulk of the heavy work really falls on his shoulders. The sec- ond officer™s pay ranges from 3900 to | $1,200, according to the size of the ship, ! svhile the third and fourth officers only get from $600 to $900. All of these men have to perform duties of a re- sponsible kind, and as there are no bo- nuees attached to their work it can be seen that thes are not overpaid The crew of the St. Louis numbers | , 410 men. the engineer's department, and all of them are directly under the authority sympathy I possess—to lat you see how old name fell tenderly from her lips), | of thochief. The stewand’s depmromont | little you have appreciated the nobler ‘hear from me what yon might have Two hundred of these are in is the next largest, numbering 170 in all. The sailors, including the deek offi- cers, number but 40. The engineer's department is the | most expensive on the ship, owing to the immense coal bills. The St. Louis ' burns more than 300 tens a day, or I about 4,500 tons the round trip. This means an expenditurs of $15,000 alone. The salaries of the men, the engineering supplies, inclading the thousand and one things needed for he vast machin- ery of a great ship, will require an ex- penditare of $5,000 every yeund trip. The chief engimeer draws $3,000 a year, and his immediate assistants re- ceive $1,300, $1,200 and $1,000 respec- tively. The stokers or firemen average about $30 a month, and the fasmaces of the St. Louis require 180 of them work- ing in different shifts. The purser, who is a most insportant on board, does not get much in | y of salary, as the company in fixing his pay figured om the large bonuses he receives for changing money and performing the little services which | the wealthy traveler does mot hesitag to pay for liberally. His salary i Giiiy $i,- 000 a year, but hg riakes another $2,000 dtimes corsiderably more. ~ The ship’s sargecn only receives $800 a year for the same reasor. He is brought in contact with numerous real and fancied imvalids of the wealthy class, and although no ene is eompelled | to fee him few fail to. do so, and a big, | popular ship like the St. Louis is worth to him at least $3,000 so §4,008 a year. The steward’s Coping is ene of the costliest om the ship. The provisions for a round trip cost in the neighborhood of $12,000, and the salaries of the stew- ard’s men amount to $3,000 more. The stewards are the least paid of any on the ship, for the reason thins in the fees of thé passengers they colleet a consider- able sum’ annually. All tke pay they get is $20 a month, but theygake in $40 a month in tips. The seasi®k man and | woman are always willimg'to give their last cent far some Httle sesvice, The chief steward reesives $1,500 a year and also comes in Fer his share of the tips, as it is within his power to place many delicacies in the way of she liberal tourist. The chief cock is a great man on the ship, almost as great as the captain, and in all makes £3,000 a year out of his job. The breakage and wear and tear on the ship and its funrnitere are very heavy, requiring an expenditure in incidentals _of about $5,000 each round trip. There are countless things to be replaced, and a comparatively little #hing like the washing of the ship's lines means an ex- penditure Dig enough tO Support a man for a vear in the lap of luwwry. = Heme are some odd facts abous the St. Louis: There are fully 1,008 tons of piping of varioas kinds in the ship. The condensers will pump at least 50,- 000,000 gallons of miter a day. The furnaces will consume no less than 7.500, 000 cabic feet of adw sn hour. The boiler tubes, if placed im a straight line, would stretch nearly 10 miles and the condenser tubes more then 25 miles. The total number of separate pieces of steel in the main structesse ef the ship is not less than 40,000, and the totad num- ber of cubic feet of tiwwbaw need in the construction is more than 100,000. The total number of rivets is «not far from 1,250,000. —New York World. A Suspicious Title. In Chicago—"* The scoundrel addressed a letter to me ‘John Smith, B. A.” exclaimed the city father wrathfully. “What of it?"’ ““What of it? What does ‘B. A.’ stand for?" ~ “‘Bachelor of arts. Me thought you were a college graduate. * “fh, that's it, is it? I thought it meant ‘bocdle alderman ' '’'—Chicago Times-Horald : : it Seems She Did. “I think I'1l lay low," said the hen. And shortly afterward ‘there was a loud cackling heard in Farmer Bilby’s sellar. —Chicago Tribwee, A tranasfiantie. liner is | - “77 heoHOT MAYMAKING. with in the country was the day I help- ed to make hay. The farmer beg m to | call us shortly after midnight, and after i a long siege of intermittent yelling he sacceeded in hiv design of getting us out | of bed several honrs before it was neces-- | | The hottest expericncs 1 ever met { sary. It was then 3 a. m. About two | hours later we had had our breakfasts { snd were entering the hayfield. . When one gets into trouble, the open- ing scenes are always allaring. A gor- geons sunrise was in fall swing in the | air was cool and’ invigorating. I ~onld ‘not but agree with the poets that the scent of the mew mown hay wis very { inspiring. I felt like acolt and wis keen to jump into tha sport. The first heat corsisted in b~ hing f.amer | himself drove about the fleld wit: many “‘goed’’ and “‘haws,’”’ 1° few. whoas.”* The old rascal tock © lend- | ish delight in crowding ns It bean to Inck a little like work. When the Bay was all bunc! d, the gh ladder wagnns were driven into the field. Being a novice, I was assigred the | duty of loading. I stcod upon the wagon Sib : : i and buils was piteh- the list, getting about $5,000 a, year. A a ne ny wy ples / ly. The first dose knocked all the poetry officer of a ship like the St. Louis or ous of me. | The blazing san had sucked up all the dewdrops and was pow shigh in the east. He seemed to focus his scorching ‘rays on the wagons, and the hay crackled and sizzled abont me like frying fat. It . was noon 20 times all at ones. I thought I was becoming liquitied. I sank to my neck in the hay and roasted in a con- centrated oven of absorbed solar heat. Not a breeze stirred. No friendly sload hovered near to screen the orb of five. I vainly tried to fancy 1 was in the Arctic ocean and the wagon ‘was a floating ice- berg. The old pitchers, inured to the heat and the awvecation, still fed om the hay. : Wo were jerked into the barn——from the frying pan iznto the fire—and I was there barbecued for half an hour in the hot beds of the mow. Ont we shot again into the broiling field. All day long this process of slow torture continned. Itas a little drama from the snowless lmd inserted into real life, the farmer impersonating sa- tan, the pitchers his mchangels and my- self Gharon's lost passenger. ts But, thank heaven, the farmer was 20 Joshua, and the sun at last complet- ed his trip across the skies and disap- peared beneath the mountain. The next day my place on the wagon was oocu- pied by some other fool. —Philadelphis old, naturally sought to encourage Scot- tish industries, and this is shown in the first large notes were made in 1396, 30 shilling notes, as they were termed, be- ing only issued en April 7, 1704. In 1739 the bank's paper was manufac- tured at Giffordhall, near bank's interest, and their account was paid by the bank. One item was ‘‘ale and bread furnished to the workmen; 10s.,’" and another for “drink money to parvants, £4 17a 6d.’ The items are suggestive, although it is possible they only represented drink money in name. In 1735 the bank got ita 20 shilling banknotes made at Collingtoun Miln (Colinton mill), and there is an ““uc- esompt for drink manay’’ in connection with it. A barber came twice from Edinburgh to shave the officials and re- geived 3s. for his prifessional attend- ance. Green tea mast have coss at this time 24s. per pound, for in the bill a quarter pound sells for 6s. At this Colinton mill the bank appears to have kept all the employees in food during the time the paper wus being manufac- ‘tured. A man was engaged 12 days at the paper mill in dressing meat, and he eut up in that time 300 pounds ef it. Meat and mutton ccst only 3igd. per pound in those good old days. A hen is charged at 8d., a duck. at 9d., one *‘sol- lan goose,” 1s Sd. ; a dozen eggs, 3d. 4 gix chickens, only 1s. 4d., and a wild fowl, 10d. ; cheese cost 4d. per pound and bacon Sd. per pound. In 1769 the bank's note paper wns made at Red- ‘hangh Miln { Redhall mill). —Chambers’ Journal. i An officer being moved from one sta- tion to another sent in a bill, in which was an item for “porter.” The item, after having exercised the intellects and received the indorsememts of five suacces-. give officials at the war office, was dis- allowed on the ground that ‘‘porter’ ‘could omly be allowed if taken under informed his superiors that the *‘porter’” charged for was not (rink, but the in- dividual who had esmiried his baggage. ‘The reply was that this should have been entered as ‘‘ porterage,'* whereupon the officer ventured to inquire whether if he took a cab this should be put down as ‘‘cabbage. "'—Truth. Lo The Heat of Our Clothes. How hot our clothes: are has just been determined by a Dr. von Bebber, a German meteorologist. When the out- side temperature is {i0 degrees F., the temperature on the coat is 71.3 degrees, that between the coat and the waistcoat 78°68 degrees, between waistcoat and shirt 76.9 degrees, butween shirt an: undershirt 77.4 degrees and between degrees. — Exchange. limit to the speed that. can be attained on a railroad. ‘He thinks the greatest speed Will"come when electricity is ob- tained direct from coal. liver oil," says am old gormand, *‘is to fatten pigeons with it and then eat the | pigeons.’ : Loli . Attendants had to ba present in the medical advice. The cfficer respectfully . . the woolen undershirt and the skin 90.9 : Edison says there is practically no “The plewsantest way to take cod wi 1 3 {ef bowed iN. . I a a i AS NS 50 ¥ su A AR A a ORG TO RTO TI i wR wa ds Sig A BAAN i
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers