Don't hurry so. There's time,
friend,
To get the work all done;
Before the world comes to its end,
Just take some time for fun.
What's all our living worth, unless
We've time enough for happiness?
my
Don't flurry so. Just wait, keep cool!
Your plans are all upset?
Ab, well the world whirls on by rule
And things will straighten yet,
Your flurry and your fret and fuss
Just make things hard for all of us.
Don't worry so. It's sad, of course,
But you and I and all
Must with the better take the worse,
And jump up when we fall—
Oh, never mind what's going to be,
To-day’s enough for you and me.
> —New York Times.
PHOTOGRAPHING BEARS
{i 8
a
In grafting apple trees one has to
be very careful not to mix the scions.
Otherwise you may have a tree or a
row of trees intended for Baldwins
mixed up with early fall apples, or
thing else. It was from a mis-
laced scion label that a row of fifteen
joung seedlings, meant for White
nter Pearmains, was grafted to Au-
t Sweets at Clement Brooks's ap-
farm, up among the Sierras in Cal-
rnia.
8 it chanced, too, this row of
Ss was on the extreme upper side
the farm, where the log fence bor-
pd the yellow pine growth which
s the mountain side of the little
v. That was about the worst
possible for early sweet ap-
which sinould be near the pro-
's house, where they can be
ed from boys, squirrels, crows,
hogs and other pilferers. No
did these luscious sweets be-
earing than all the wild-wood
Ss in man's bounty took knowl-
of the fact, and congregated
Not only squirrels and birds,
eer and bears came poaching.
a matter of fact, bears are not
numerous in that portion of the
S. A grizzly is rarely seen
. A few yellow or ‘‘cinnamon”
rangs about the mountains.
ck bears are more frequently met,
but as frequently as in the State
Maine. ;
lement Brooks was a New Hamp-
lire boy who had come into pos-
assion of this apple-farm in the
erras by way of a namesake uncle.
is family in New Hampshire nat-
felt a great interest in his wel-
e, and a certain anxiety for him
ter his uncle's dea.u, fearing that
} was quite alone in a wild, remote
a result of this solicitude at
ime, Clement's older sister went out
California during the following
mmer to pay him a visit and learn
iw he was prospering.
ucretia Brooks was a school-teach-
5 but the summer vacation offered
good opportunity for making the
Pp. As she was also an amateur bot-
pist and photograpiner, she antici-
id much enjoyment from the tour,
ap®. from the pleasure of seeing
Clement. |
The bears had been holding carni-
val in that row of August Sweets for
two or three weeks before Miss
Brooks's arrival.
Clement watched for them on sev-
eral nights with a gun, and had
slightly wounded one of the black fel-
_Jows. One bear, too, had nearly
| choked to death from sucking an ap-
ple into its windpipe when the gun
was discharged. Clement heard the
i 1 making most distressing
sounds as it ran off.
They came back, however, either
' the same bears or others, in spite of
the gun. Thaese apples proved a great
\ attraction to them. A bear, like a
man, enjoys variety €in his diet, and
1 eat almost anytning, from pin-
d cherries to salt pork. That is
Bne ~0f the secrets of his survival,
perhaps.
These were mostly black bears, al-
though it is not easy to distinguish
one species of hear from anotaer in
the night. Clement had seen but on
_ that seemed very large. :
Clement was in the midst of this
campaign against the bears when his
sister came. She had brought her
camera, and indeed was enthusiastic
over the idea of ‘hunting with a cam-
era,” instead of with a gun. When
‘she learned about the bears, she was
/ desirous of pootographing one or
more of them in the act of robbing an
ipple-tree.
A photograph by flashlight of a
group of bears at an August Sweet
itree would be a notable one to send
to a prize competition. The more Miss
Brooks tanought of this the more en-
thusiastic she grew.
But the affair was not easily man-
aged. To secure a good photograph
it would be necessary to bring the
‘camera within thirty feet of the bears,
and naturally the young lady was
afraid of them. It occurred to her to
‘set the camera and the flasalight
apparatus on a post near one of the
apple-trees, and operate the shutter
and light by the aid of long lines ex-
tending to a covert behind the log
fence. ‘I'nis project did not prove
practicable when attempted, and the
only other plan whic Clement could
hit on to gratify his sister's whim
"was to haul an apple-wagon out near
the n of Sweet trees, and use ft
@s a hiding-place from which to ope-
| sate the camera.
7
A TWENTIETH CENTURY SER]
MON
teen feet in length, with sides four
feet high, made for transporting forty
boxes of apples to market at onee.
The better to serve thelr present gur-
pose, Clement covered the top ¢* it
over with boards lightly nailed, aud
made a peep-hole in the taiibon.d.
The chamber thus formed inside
the body permitted one to sit at ease
on a low stool, and Clement placed
the little lamp and cup of magnesium
powder for making the flash on top
of the body outside,
With this by way of outfit, the two
young people sat up several nights,
watching for the bears. Lucretia was
afraid to remain out there in the
wagon alone, and Clement was
obliged to go along, too.
By the second night, however,
Clement's interest in watching for
bears that did not come Thad nearly
vanished. He fell asleep at the front
end of the wagon. But his sister
maintained the vigil assiduously. She
could sleep through the days; Clem-
ent was obliged to work.
Bears came to the trees at the far
end of the row during the third night,
but they were not near enough to be
photographed. After this, Clement
refused to spend the night in the
wagon; he preferred his bed. But
Lucretia persevered... She had by this
time grown accustomed to her hid-
ing-place in the wagon body, and she
ventured to remain there alone. Clem-
ent wimself considered wne place safe
enough for her. He did not believe
that a bear would go near the wagon.
He slept with his window up, how-
ever,
On either the fourth or fifth night
of her prolonged effort to “hunt wita
a camera,” Miss Brooks fell asleep,
perhaps for an hour or two. A con-
siderable jar and rattling of the wag-
on waked her suddenly. She looked
out at the peep-hole. The night was
starlit, and it seemed to her that
those apple-trees were full of bears!
Branches were cracking and apples
were falling by the bushel! 'L'here
were loud champing sounds, cough-
ing, snufiling, and all the riotous com-
motion of an ursine feast.
For the moment our amateur pho-
tographer was not much alarmed, but
rather elated. This was just what
she had watched for. In mervous
haste she reached for her camera and
made ready to work the flash-light.
Just then, however, the wagon was
jarred again, and she heard a shuf-
fling noise close beside it.
Could this be Clement? But on
peering forth she saw a very large
animal within an arm’s length of the
peep-hole. Its great muzzle was
raised to sniff the cart!
Miss Brooks gasped in terror—
wiereupon the animal rose upon its
haunches with a low growl. This
completed her consternation, for the
creature loomed up much taller than
the cart. It seemed to her to be
eight, yes, ten feet tall, and so near
that she smelled its breatn.
She felt sure that at a stroke of
one of these big, drooping paws it
could have knocked fhe cart body to
bits.
Miss Brooks did what most young
ladies would do under circumstances
so startling—she screamed, or at-
tempted to do so, but was so terrified
that she merely made a faint sound.
The bear snuffed repeatedly and went
ambling round the wagon, evidently
investigating those little, gaspy
squeaks.
By this time Clement had arrived
on the scene with his gun. He, too,
had been soundly asleep at the cabin,
but waked, having heard through the
open windows the sounds of ursine
activity in tne orchard. He jumped
up and putting his head out at the
window to listen, distinguished his
sister's little gasping cries.
“My heart nearly flopped over,” so
Clement wrote in a letter, “for I
thought those hears were eating Lu-
cretia up! I grabbed my gun and
ran up there. At every step I could
hear the faint little squeak! It was
awful! I didn't expect to get taere
soon enough to save much of her!
There wasn't much left of her, to
judge by the sound!
“I ran along beside the log fence,
and tnen I saw that tremendous big
bear moseying round the wagon. Just
as I got there he swung round on
the upper side of it, so that he stood
clear of the body, and I cocked both
barrels and let go at him. I was wild
with fear, for I thought that bear
had eaten Lucretia. He looked big
enough to eat a whole family.
“The bear gave a yell and ran. The
other bears left, too, when they heard
tine gun. I could hear them leaping
out of the apple-trees, swarming
over the log fence, coughing up ap-
ples, making a general stampede up
into the tall timber. But I didn’t stop
to listen to them, I ran to the wagon.
* ‘Lucretia!’ I exclaimed, with a
terrible sick feeling coming over me,
‘Speak, can't you? Are you alive ’
“And with that Lucretia put her
head out. ‘Was that you woo fired,
Clem? said she. ‘I am all rigat.”
“She pretended to be so calm and
not a mite scared that I was a little
angry—I had been so frightened
about her. ‘That was a pretty noise
to make, anyhow,” said I. ‘You
sounded like a little pig dying of
colic!’
“She laughed at me. ‘You have too
much imagination, Clem,” said she.
‘But I think you hit that bear; I
seemed to hear something strike
him!”
“That was the end of our adventure
for the night, and Lucretia said
nothing more about taking flasi-light
pictures of bears in apple-trees. I
guess that she had had as much hunt-
ing with a camera as she cared for.
“Of course, as every one knows, it
is easy to tell a great story as to the
size of bears seen in the nigat; but
In this case certain facts were ob
tained later, In the latter part of
October, a Cinnammon bear was
trapped less than ten miles from my,
place, and we have little doubt that
it was the one I fired at. For this
bear had a broken jaw which had not
healed, and four marks as of buck:
snot in his hide,
“On account of his nearly useless
jaw he had grown very thin, but the
hunters who trapped him estimated
his live weight at seven hundred.
None of the mountain men hereabouts
had ever seen a larger bear. They
kept him over in the Yosemite Val.
ley in a log cage for several months.
His jaw did not heal, however, and
at last he grew so emaciated that it
became necessary to shoot him.'=
Youth's Companion,
MONOTONY OF BRITISH COOKING.
Any Attempt to Break Up Established
Course Ends Only in Disaster:
Those who have eaten a great many
English things will fully appreciate
the American girl's strictures on the
British table, After her observations
on tea, she remarks:
As to the other details of English
diet, the American girl felt, after
eight weeks’ experience, that mono:
tony was its chief characteristic. Be-
ing adaptable, she had not minded
MEBs andy, tl eRe {Ly appreciated
ihe grumbling of her fellow-Ameri-
cans. English food is more than sub-
stantial, it is solid, and it never
varies, B® must be infinitely easier
to run an English house than an Am-
erican one, since it seems necessary
only to supply a sufficient quantity of
food and the man of the house will
not complain that he had this or that
dish yesterday or the day before, or
the day before that. From his youth
up he expects to have repetition, and
probably would be resentful if he did
not have it.
Any attempt of the American to
break up the established course only
results in disaster, and it is the part
of wisdom in England to begin the
day with marmalade and end it with
cheese, as all good English folk do.
Even in lodgings, when a complaisant
lady inquires, “What will you have
for breakfast?” the invariable ans-
wer should be “Fish,” or “Ham and
eggs.” Marmalade and toast or rolls
will appear as a matter of course, To
be sure, one may substitute coffee
for tea, but one is more fortunate
who takes tea, for the English coffee
is a poor thing even in the best
places, and in cthers it is an abomina-
tion.
The eating of fresh fruit for break-
fast is an American practice that is
not favored in England. It is pes-
sible to get it, but it is not easy,
and it is expemsive. After a week
or two of insistence, one will usual-
ly fall back upon marmalade or jam,
much as she may detest “sweets for
breakfast.”
There seems to be little discrimina-
tion made in England between ham
and bacon. To order one seems quite
likely to result in getting the other.
In fact, the American girl saw very
little of what is in her country call-
ed ham served for breakfast. Eggs
almost always meet expectation,
which is more than can be said
for them in the American boarding
house,
To be served with fish at an Am-
a week is a rarity. It seems a staple
in England. The absence of hot
breads is, perhaps, the most difficult
English seem to eat even their toast
cold, or nearly so, and to get on with-
out any other pretence to hot bread.
Luncheons, likely to be poor in all |i
parts of the world, are only a shade
worse in England than in America.
An Englishman can take his cold cut
every noon; an American demands
variety and housekeepers have to ex-
ercise great ingenuity in disguising |1
the remnants of the previous day's
dinner, and in inventing new dishes
that are not too expensive,
Timber Wolf Caught in Indiana.
armed with
3 i
Indianapolis hunters,
bird shot intended for the elusive
quail, came across three wolves on
the farm of John Oursley, about
thirty miles from Indianapolis, yes-
terday. By strategy: they captured
one of the animals, a timber wolf
as large as a setter dog.
J. C. Clark and Jack Abrams sight-
ed the wolves on the Oursley farm
and they went after them, thinking
they were large foxes. Two of the
It was desired to capture the anis
mal alive and, still thinking it a fox | ¢
one of the men went after Oursley,
a blanket and an axe. A hole was
chopped in the top of the log and
a small stick was used in prodding
out the wolf. It finally ran out of the
with the blanket. A lively fight fol-
lowed, and the three men finally over-
powered the animal by choking it.
They then tied and muzzled it se-
curely.
During the fight the men realized
for the first time that they were
struggling with a strong wolf and not
a fox. The wolf was placed in a
wagon and brought to the city. Clark
said he would attempt to save the
\ This apple-wagon had a body thir
Sue rances said
worked.”
I'm doing it.
came 2108s
ever
playing body-guard.”
The visitor's eyes opened wide.
“Yes,” laughed the other, “I'm the
Czar
fear of being bombarded and—things.
I have to stay right with him every
minute to
when I feed him, I
everything first
poison him;
you!
‘em out again.
said
TOYS.
In strange and different
And cannot think of thin
I'm glad as glad can
The doll that will not
The little duck that ran
And now can't even w
I never ought to leave tk
They're sensitive, you
And just to comfort them
I take them all to bed at
®
the pleasant, shady
cookies. Between bites
ing Lady Claire a dress.
quet and ball, go-a-visiting
travel and guess-whats=-in-
“Who's that striped littl
out any hat on?” inquired
suddenly.
Sue Frances took anoth
answered:
ing or sweeping or doing
she never plays.”
worthy!’
“Well, honest she neve
opposite side of her. It
ache!”
The visitor got up rather suddenly.
“I guess I'll
walk” she said; “s‘he needs a consti-
take Lady
tution.”
But it was not of La
She looked
“No, thank you—I mean
“0!” stammered
wpe yeu'll beg my pardon.
you swep
“Why. I do; but I play a
street.
I'll tell
the
guess, so
yodyguard, you know. The
and he can't go out
body-guard h
have
It's lot
make those old hordes
But' they will
She
sweep or
Suddenly she
“There's washing the di
triumphantly.
“Oh, yez, that's splendid
Shipwreck, 1 call it.
“Shipwreck?” the visitor
“Yes, the dishes tumble
animal's life and keep it as a peti
boiling sea; waves always
“Never plays? Sue Frances
you. I
to be sure
that’s the way they do
with the regular Czar, you know. I
take little bites, and, when it doesn't
poison me dead, I give it to the baby
—the Czar I mean.
play that!”
had
body-guard
remembered a
kind of work you couldn't play.
All up and down the land I go
With mother making calls,
And sit in chairs so much too nigh
halls,
gs to say,
And feel so pleased to start away.
But when we come to home again,
be
To see the very oldest toys
All waiting there for me—
The horse with missing tail, the
blocks,
And all the soldiers in their box.
The hose-cart with the broken shaft,
talk,
so fast,
alk.
They all are friends so tried and true
Because of what they used to do.
And every day when I'm away
I know they miss me so.
em once,
know,
a mite
night.
—Youth's Companion.
THE LITTLE GIRL WHO PLAYED.
The visitor and Sue Frances sat on
piazza,
they took
long, straggly stitches in Lady Claire's
sleeves; they thought they were mak:
Since the
visitor's arrival they had played cro-
and school,
mine.
were really quite tired playing.
e girl cross
there, wheeling a baby carriage with-
the visitor
er bite and
“Oh, that's the little girl
who never plays. She’s always wheel-
something;
Tre-
r. 1 guess
you'd pity her if you lived on the
makes me
Claire to
dy Claire's
health she was thinking; she wanted
to go a little nearer to the girl who
never played and see how she looked.
Across the street the baby carriage
came to a stop as the
proached. The girl who never played
was smiling!
erican breakfast table more than once | other little girls!
“How d’ you do?” sthe nodded.
visitor ap-
just like
I'm preity
well, thank you,” murmured the vis-
“You don't
thing for an American to endure. Al-| itor in some confusion.
ways at home he has hot rolls, muf- | look a bit different!” she added hon-
fins, gems, biscuit, or some such | estly.
thing, often with the addition of a “Me different?"—in wonder,
special course of batter cakes, serv- “I mean because you won't ever
ed with butter and maple syrup. The | play. I s'posed you'd look—"
“Don’t ever play—me? Why I play
all the time!”
the visitor. O, 1
I thought
t and—and |
11 the time
I always take the baby
out like this; what do you suppose I
slay then? I was playing it when you,
can't
was
You
baby’s the
alone for
im. Then,
to taste
it won't
s of fun to
animals were some distance away “But—but you have to sweep a lot,
and they scampered over the hills | gon vou?” questioned the visitor
and escaped. The third wolf was |. io .
chased Dy Caries setter dog, and “Course; and then I play I'm driv-
the wolf, after a mile run, took refuge ing out the hordes.”
in a hollow log. It held the setter “The—the what?”
at bay until the hunters came up. “Hordes—of sin, vou know, My,
don't I sweep ‘em out like everything?
fly, I tell
creep back, so
next day I take the broom and drive
That play's fun, too.”
The visitor's eyes were getting very
wide open indeed.
end of the log and Abrams fell on it | “played”
baby.
never
the
shes,” she
And as sure as
vou live the other little girl nodded
with glee.
play!” she
laughed. “I play that three times a
day.
zasped.
into the
are soap
eating
They
1 trips.
gudsy on the tips, you know. I play
a great ship has been wrecked, and
I'm the lifesaving stationer saving
the folks. The nice wihite dishes are
the first cabin passengers, and the
cracked and nicked ones the second
cabins and the pans and pots the
steerages. The saucers are the boys
and the cups the girls, and the butter
plates the little babies. It's the
greatest play that is!”
The visitor went back to Sue Fran-
ces with a thoughtfil face. She had
quite forgotten Lady Claire, who
dangled ignominiously by one leg.
Sue Frances was playing tea party;
she had tea all ready. “Well,” she
said, looking up from the little gold-
and-white teapot, “don’t you pity her
dreadfully—that poor little girl cross
there that you've been a-talking to?
Think of never play—"
“She plays all the time,” the visi-
tor said quietly. “I know, cause she
said so. She has the splendidest
times, sweeping and taking care 0
the baby and--you guess what next,
{Bue Frances Treworthy! But you
{ can’t if you keep right on guessing till
the tip end of forever. She makes a
perfectly splendid play out of washing
the dishes!”
The cambric tea in the tiny gold-
and-white teapot grew cold while they
both sat gazing across the street with
wonderstruck faces at the little girl
who played all the time, while she
patiently, cheerfully wheeled the ba—
the Czar, 1 mean—up and down in the
sunshine.—Annie Hamilton Donnell in
Congregationalist.
A DOG WHICH SAVES LIVES.
Rags is a four-year-old dog, unm-
kempt and ill-looking, but a heroic
heart beats in his shaggy breast.
Rags has saved more than forty lives.
His field of service is the Klondike,
where he and his master have winter-
{ed for. several years. The Philadel
phia North American tells of two of
the dog's exploits.
In the winter of 1901 a number of
men belonging to the Pittsburg min-
ing company were prospecting in
Alaska. They lived in a little wooden
hut, from which they went out in
pairs to explore. They were away
beyond any sign of civilization, and
the weather was so severe that they
endured a good deal of suffering.
One day two of the men, out on an
expedition, were caught: in a sudden
and terrific storm. They started
back for camp, hut the trail was rap-
idly covered by the drifting snow. On
and on the men plodded, each falling
now and again, only to be roused from
the death-dealing sleep and hustled
on by his companion. At last both
sank, and the snow drifted over them,
The men at the camp, alarmed by
the non-appearance of their comrades,
started out to rescue them. Rags
went along, too. Straight as an arrow
he followed the trail, and before long
a sharp yell told the party that their
friends had been found. The two
men were completely buried in the
i snow, and help had not come one mo-
| ment too soon. This was Rag’s first
| exploit.
| At another time he went out as the
{ leader of sixteen dogs which were
| dragging a rescue team to relieve a
{ party of snow-bound miners. As the
{team was plodding steadily along.
| Rags suddenly gave a ery, broke from
ihe traces, and bounded away. Think-
{ing he might have found the trail, the
| party followed, and by the time they
had reached him, Rags had dug away
enough snow to allow an entombed
miner to crawl out.
Rags has saved forty-six lives and
made ‘several record-breaking rescue
His badge of honor is a gold
inscribed a list of
collar on which is
his deeds.
Monkeys as Cashiers.
“Talk about dummy directors!”
sald a New York corporation lawyer
just back from Oriental climes. “Why,
on a recent visit to the East I saw
monkeys who knew more about the
value of money than most insurance
directors. 1 saw apes employed in
many of the business houses as casn-
iers, simply because they have prov-
ed their ability to detect counterfeit
money better than human beings.
Though on a pleasure trip to Japan
I couldn't resist the temptation of
trying for a little concession in Siam,
and in the city of Bangkok I witness-
ed this strange exhibition¥of siamian
sagacity, and heard the explanation
thereof. It seemed that three years
flooded with
clever counterfeits that store-
rs were at their wits' end. Fi-
hey noticed that pet monkeys,
if given any of these discarded coins
to piay with, would gravely bite the
metal and throw it to the ground with
disgust. Given good money, they
would retain it.
“The opportunity being given them
of being official coin testers these
monkeys have so developed the fac-
ulty of discrimination between good
and bad coin that mo one can com-
peie with them.”—New York Fress.
ago the country was
such
UNRESPONSIVE,
Her marble brow 1 do admire,
And ardent looks I dart,
But ah, for me there is no five
Within her marble heart,
SPOILED IT ALL,
Smoothleigh--1 agree with you en.
tirely,
Old Hunks—Shucks! Then what's
the use of arguing! —Chirago Tribune,
IS, OF COURSE.
“How does the Senator take (his
wave of popular indignation ugeinst
him?”
“He's resigned.”
al
“Has, or is?
PRISON GATES,
“l see they didn't {
pieces at the opening
Wonder why?”
“Guess they were of
ator might get a
aay floral
of Congress.
» Sen.
A MEAN
“1 think I'll join a ‘shut in’ soci
whined a woman who imagines that
she's a hopeless invalid
“l wish you'd join a shut-up soci
ety’ was her husband's brutal re:
spanse.,
MAN.
THAT.
pew neighbor is
MUST DO
Mrs. Subbubs— My
a great borrower.
Mrs, Citiman—And
return anything?
Mrs. Subbubs—Only my visits,
does she never
CRUEL GIRL.
“This,” remarked Myr. Sappyhedd,
“is my photograph taken with
two French poodics. You recognize
me, eh?”
“I think so,” Miss
“You are the one wiih the hat on, are
you not?”
Sulfuric.
said
A REFLECTION.
First Hen—Mrs, Farmer hurt my
feelings very much today.
Second Hen—How?
First Hen—She came here with an-
other woman and said she thought =
might have done better with an in
cubator.
REMARKABLE CHANGE.
Visitor-—Your husband’s sojourn
the country seems to have done !
a world of good.
Mrs. Lapsling—Yes, indeed. 1 was
fairly alarmed at Gerald's condition
when we went there, and his present
indelicacy of course, gratifies me ©x-
» ‘Tribune,
ceedingly.— Chic:
EVEN POSSIBLE.
“They say that the latest fad is to
cultivate the ‘art of talking.”
“That's encouraging. Maybe some
day somebody’ll start the fad of culti-
vating the ‘art of thinking’ '—Delioic
Free Press.
I'T NEVER FAILS.
“These high-heeled ladies’ shoes of
ours are not selling at all)’ complain-
ed the junior partner, “and yet we
guarantee them to please the wea rer.”
“You are unacquainted with woman
senior partner.
the. wearers
nature,” responded ik
“Guarantee ‘em to 1
health.”
HIS TIME TO GUFFAW.
“Well, old Si Perkins, the feller wio
wunst bought a gold briek, has been
the laughin’ sto i 3 county fel
twenty year, but his has come dat
last.”
“How's
“He's
township that
ance policy.”
that?”
about the only
hain't got a life
man in the
imsur-
THE MERRY MINSTRELS.
Mr. Tambo—Why does a human be-
ing cross the road?
Mr. Bones—I give it up, Mr. Tambo
Now, why does a human being cross
the road?
Mr. Tambo—Merely to annoy the
chaufteur.
Mr. Bones—Ladies and gentlemen,
Mr. Falsetto will now sing, “I've Got
a Senator A-Workin' Fer Me.”
STATE OF AFFAIRS.
“Your police and fire departments
seem to hold cach other in supreme
contempt,” observed the visitor
Plunkville.
“Well, yes, there is a little teeling
of that sort,” acknowledged the native
Plunkvillian. “You see our police got
robbed about a month ago and a week
later our engine-house burned down.”
HE WENT.
Enamored Youth—I would go to the
uttermost ends of the earth for you.
I—
Voice (from the head of the stairs)
—Would vou zo somewhere for me,
young man?
Youth—Certainly, ]—er——-
Voice—Then go home, or out and
sit on the curb; it is time that gir}
was permitted to retire.—Houston
Post,
Sir,
CHANGE HIS TUNE.
“Well, I see they've cornered lin-
seed oil.”
“80? Guess that don't interes. me
any.”
“Linseed is the same thing as liax-
seed, you know.”
“Eh! Same thing as flaxseed! Why,
my wife told me to bring home some
flaxseed. Well, dern their pictures,
what'll those rascally trusts do next?”
of the
various
best re
If the
the Nbr
stand?
ble? he
room is
sideboa
or piece
ily and
are obt
ing apa
ture so
secured
Often
room a
the bed
ing in ¢
arrange
Washin
window
ter’ sun
in a da
obtaine
the gre
fort, for
the mes
their vi
ticed.
to draw
of his h
architec
not resy
furnitur
sufficien
casional
room is
dows 1}
for the
architec
exposur
noyance
are seld
aarly m
out the
may be
Amoth
bhedroon
ing of ti
is lighte
four bu
doubties
placing
disregar
mon ap
decorate
hroken
nose of
give il
dressing
ed so as
The fixf
from tif
might h
Amnoth
is the I
of the f
veals tt
bed and
ble, sho
are invi
In the
200d Ras
in hand.
in the
often. bu
plain 81
and serv
In the
zine tab
receive
should 1}
cases, I
should 1
Comfo
hand-ma
house—
ance tha
HOME
The he
familiar
any othe
in this
of their
to conse
en, and
the fem
have tak
clubs in
get SO m
little wi
so much
truth be
the maj
The key
it is live
ment.
py with
‘his seat
he even
al fan-ta
his fam
her chil
musical
the dom
en are t
a. zither-
jority of
songs, w
ics set t
there are
dow of":
home co
many of
women |
the hors
colillons
there ar
ter three
sought 1
divorces.
worlé is
tentment
content J
ject of
woridling
cius-like
Quimby