v THE BAREFOOT TRAIL. Out of the dear front gate It ran, Into the sun and dew and tan; Mraversed the dusty, peaceful street Arched by the maples (in mem'ty sweet) | Crossed the pasture, with clover lush: Entered the copse, when thrilled the thiush Rambled, loitered and played and then Turned to mother and home again, treet and pasture and hill and vale uch was the course of the Havefoor Trall; using and veering for this and that ow for a game of one-old.cat, ow for a rollicking butterfly, low for a nest hung just too high Row for a brookside haunt sud then ck to mother and home again, Never a sun for this trail tee hot, Never a nook that knew It not, Twisting and turning from scene to CRY, It checkered the realm of the gold and green, Passenger-—eonrier boyhood, slim} Passport ~whistle and tattered brim Province to beckon afar, and then To lewd to mother and home again, Many a secret and many a tale, Ours who followed the Barefoot Trall, Wonders wit sd and marvels heard: Kinship of squirrel and kare and bird, Tre shortest route to the swimming hole, The finny spoil 8f the swaying poie, Carefree trinmphs and joys——and then, (Best!) the “mother wnd home ngaio.’ NUNARNAARAANR ALAR LA Lad AqaR aq aAN AeA RAaRaaNRAA Young Lumberman’s “Samson.” By C. A. Stephens. . RERRRERRRRERRY ERR RRR RE EERE RRR RR RRRERRR RRR RRRYR RE § y The Stoss Pond lots, up to the north- east of the old farm in Maine, had been at one time covered with a fine | growth of pine. Lumbermen, how- ever, had cut it off forty years before | my time, all except one tree, a grand old pine, which stood near the deep | ravine of Stoss Pond Brook. At first view it might have been thought sentiment which had led the woodsmen to spare this one last pine of all the thousands so ruthlessly slaughtered for lumber; but the real | reason was much more prosaic. The | pine stood within ten feet of the | brink of the ravine, and leaned so | | heavily over it that the axmen had despaired of making it fall the other | way. | If it fell across the ravine great dif- | ficulty would have attended getting | the heavy logs out; moreover, the trunk would be likely, in falling, to | be so broken and shattered as to be rope; and there was the liability that the blocks might be smashed by the tree trunk falling on them. Fifteen | dollars’ worth of extra line would be required for so long a haul. We did not like to pay out so much money, having, indeed, very little of | our own. Time passed until the second day after presidential election and the first thing I heard in our room that morn- ing was Addison singing out, “Gen- eral Grant's elected again—and I know how we can push down Stoss Pond Pine!” “How?” said I, passing over the election mews, which did not seem to have much to do with the pine. “I'll show you when we get up there!” cried Addison. “I've got a ‘Samson’ that'll push it over.” “Did you dream it out?” said IL “No, no!” said he. “It came to me all at once this morning. It's with unfit for boards. levers. I know just how we can do They therefore let it stand, and it. See here,” and he got a little block went their way to other lots. { of wood and two sticks, and then pro- The gorge of the brook was perhaps ceeded to illustrate his Samson forty feet deep, steep-sided and rocky, | against a chairpost. I could see neither head nor tail the brook being a roaring torrent in | spring-time, but later in the season a fine stream of trout. So Stoss Pond pine, as we called it, stood unmolest- | ed, although valuable. Passing lum- bermen often looked it over, but gave it up as a bad bargain. Nature had protected it quite effectively. The tree was probably two centuries old, a white pine more than three feet in diameter, tall and without a limb for forty or fifty feet. In our time it in- creased in size but slowly, if at all. One day late in October, 1872, my | cousin Addison and I had gone up to Stoss Pond to gather a basketful of high-bush cranberries, from a bog there for household jelly, and to look after some young cattle that had been | pastured during the summer in the | openings about the pond. As we were looking for the young | stock, now grown quite wild and shy, we went nast the solitary old pine, and were led to stop and contemplate jt with a speculative eye. For at this time Addison and I had begun to at tend Waynor Academy and cherished hopes of fitting for college—then deemed a somewhat bold design. The old squire had intimated to us pretty plainly that if we went to col- lege at all we should have to pay our own way there. A common-school education was all that he felt able to give us. Now nothing so sharpens a | boy's wits as an awakening ambition i to obtain an education; nothing puts him more keenly on the lookout to make a dollar. That afternoon at the pond our talk turned to plans for earn- ing money. It was with this in mind | that we stopped to look at the old pine. “I’m pretty sure that tree's got three thousand feet of lumber in it,” Addison | remarked. “It's worth forty dollars | a thousand after it's hauled and saw- ed. There's a hundred dollars’ worth | of lumber in that tree if we could only | get it out.” “That’s where the hitch comes,” I said. “It leans ten feet out of plumb. | It is bound to fall into that gully.” “There ought to be some way of get- ting it,” Addison said. “Let's ask the ‘old squire if he will let us have it.” Accordingly, as we sat at supper that night, after speaking of the young cattle, Addison said: “Sir, may we have Stoss Pond pine for our school expenses next spring?” The old squire laughed. “I have looked at that tree many a time,” he said. “Samson himself could not push it over this way; and it would be a pity to smash it up in the gully.” “But may we have it if we can fell it this way?” Ad asked. “Yes,” said the squire, “if ‘you can fell it this way.” Addison said no more; but after- wards, between ourselves, we talked it over. By chopping a scarf into a leaning tree on the side toward which you wish it to fall, then sawing into it on the other side, and driving in steel wedges, such as are used in splitting four-foot logs for cord wood, a tree can be forced over when it does not Jean too heavily. But I do not believe Stoss Pond pine could have been made to fall south by that method. It Jeaned too heavily to the gully and was too large a tree to be lifted over by wedges. We thought also of using a tackle and blocks, attaching one block high up in the tree, and making the ground block fast to another tree, a hundred feet or more away, on the south side. When all was ready the pine could be cout nearly off and a horse or four men met to haul on the tacle rope. In that . way the pine might perhaps have been 9 pulled over in the right direction. But many practical difficulties at- tended this plan. We should have to {| our axe-handles had each | culties began to arise. to the plan, but was inclined to take Addison's word for it, since he was always the mechanical genius of the family. That morning, however, after break- fast the old squire set us to bank up the stable and out-buildings for win- ter. It was an all-day job; but the next forenoon we ground our axes and started for Stoss Pond. Addison ex- plained a little as we went on. “The first thing wanted is two spruce poles,” said he. “Two strong, stiff spruce poles, one for the lever, the other for the lifter, and the one for the lever will have to be thirty feet long.” 2 Higher up the mountainside there wa thick growth of spruce, and here we cut the two poles. The longer one was fully five inches in diameter, and very heavy; but as the way was down hill, we contrived to drag it to the pine. The “lifter” was not as large and but twenty feet in length— a two-foot S a measure laid off on them. Directly on the brink of the ravine and hence about ten feet from the butt of the pine, stood a little horn- beam tree, four or five inches in di- ameter. “That's good,” said Addison. “We will fell that and cut the stump off square. It will do for the fulcrum of the lever.” I now began to understand it all a little better. The long arm of the lever was to extend out over the gully it was to rest on the hornbean stump. The lifter was to stand on the short arm of the lever, and have the upper { end of it “toed” in a notch cut into the | pine trunk twenty feet from the ground. But by this time not a few diffi- We needed a Jadder, some hits of rope and several spike-nails, and were obliged rather reluctantly ing for the time being and home—two miles and a half. We had made a beginning, however, and at the dinner-table the old squire became so much interested in Addi- son’s account of the experiment that he announced his intention of return- ing with us. I now imagine that the old gentleman had fears lest we might be injured by our contrivance. We did not want him to go, but said nothing outright. Our cousin Hal- stead, who had been away on a visit, returned that forenoon, and he, too, went along. As there were four of us, we hitch- ed up one of the work-horses and drove most of the way by a cart road through the pasture-lands. We took a ladder, bits of rope and spikes, and also a strong five-bushel apple-basket, a use for which we had begun to fore- see. Addison had been afraid that the old squire would pooh-pooh the plan; but after looking it over for some time, he said that he should not wonder if it worked well. We were then both very glad that he had come, so as to bear a hand with us at raising the long lever into position. This really required the strength of all four of us. It was a long, heavy stick, and it was necessary to set it projecting over the ravine at an angle of about thirty degrees. To get as great leverage as possi- ble, we made the short arm of the lever but two feet and the long arm twenty-eight feet. After the notch was cut, twenty feet up the trunk of the pine, the up- per end of the lifter stick was fitted to it and the lower end adjusted to the short arm of tbe lever. To hold it in place there, /t was toed in with spikes, £0 that if any jostle occurred return purchase five hundred feet of strong it would not slip off. The lever was to give up the undertak- | also toed loosely to the fulcrum, so that it would not slip aside. An hour or more was occupied in getting Samson in trim for work. Afterward the big basket was slung on the long arm of the lever, so that it could be slid out to the extreme end of it, over the ravine. Then setting to work, we began bringing up stones from the bed of the gully to fill the basket, until we had in it what the old squire estimated at five hundred pounds’ weight. Under this strain the lever sprang visibly and the lifter showed signs of buckling. 1t might well be so, for it our estimates were correct, we were applying a pressure of seven thousand pounds against the pine trunk. Samson being seated, as it were, with his shoulder to the pillar, the next thing was to undercut the pine. Addison now began chopping a scarf on the south side, while I cut one op- posite, and a little higher, on the side next the gully. As the foot of the lifter was set between eight and nine feet back from the tree, there was space to swing an axe on that side. It is no light task to cut down a tree three feet in diameter. Addison and | were fully on hour opening our two scarfs. So heavily did the pine lean back toward the gully that the scarfs had very nearly met at the heart before the steady lift of the lev- ers prevailed over the counterweight and overcame the inclination to fall to the north, Halstead and the old looking on in some little anxiety. It was a critical moment. We all had doubts as to the result. Then slowly the lofty top moved over to the south. “She's going over!” shouted Halse. “Hurrah!” “Run, boys!” cried the old squire. “Run back out of the way!” Ponderously and slowly at first, then faster, with a sudden downward rush, the giant of two centuries fell south- ward and struck the earth with a crash! Our Samson had done its work well; and it may be that others who have leaning trees to fell will find the scheme advantageous. From this pine we cut five fifteen-foot logs and one other, smaller and shorter. It made a little less than three hundred féet of boards and the sum which we realized from it was about seventy dollars.— Youth's Companion. ————— QUAINT AND CURIOUS. Throughout Denmark there is not one person over ten years of age who cannot read and write. There is one lighthouse in the world that is not placed on any mar- iner’s chart. It is in the Arizona des- squire sat | ert, and marks the spot where a well supplies pure, fresh water to travel ers. A specimen of a herd of the small- est sheep in the world—they are only nineteen inches high at the withers— is now to be seen at the Natural His- tory Museum sat South Kensington, England. The postal departments say Chicago is often and horribly misspelled by for- eigners. It is said that the word has been spelled in 189 different ways. Here are some of the most puzzling: Zizzo, Japago, Hipaho, Jagiga, Schec- chacho, Hizago, Chachcho and Shi- cahbzdo. Human hairs are not as might be supposed perfectly cylindrical, but are more or less flattened in one direction. The most cylindrical hair is most in- clined to grow straight, while hair that | is much flattened has a tendency to curl; and the flatter the hair the greater this tendency. This is the main cause of curly hair; but the read- iness with which hair absorbs mois- ture also affects curliness. Four years ago, William Rockefel- ler, the Standard oil magnate, began an action at law against an old army veteran named Lamore, for trespass on the magnificent Rockefeller estate at Malone, N. Y. The jury returned a verdict in favor of Mr. Rockefeller and awarded him eighteen cents dam- ages. Lamore'*s attorney appealed the case. It has taken a dozen turns, but is still in the courts. Rockefeller is trying to get his eighteen cents and Lamore is trying to keep from paying it. The Chinese eat discriminately al- most every living creature which comes in their way, dogs, cats, hawks, owls, eagles and storks are regular marketable commodities, in default of which a dish of rats, field-mice or snakes is not objected to. Cockroaches and other insects and reptiles are used for food or medicine. Their taste for dog flesh is quite a fashion. Young pups—plump, succulent and tender— fetch good prices at the market stalls, where a supply is always to be found. A dish of puppies, prepared by a skil- ful cook, is esteemed as a dish fit for the gods. At every banquet it makes its appearance as a hash or stew. : Yes or No. “My good woman,” said the learned judge, “you must give an answer in the fewest possible words of which you are capable to the plain and simple question whether, when you ‘were crossing the street with the baby on your arm and the motor car came down on the right side and the dog cart was trying to pass the motor car, you saw the plaintiff between the carriage and the dog cart, or the mo- tor car and the dog cart, or whether aid when you saw him at all, and whether or not the carriage, dog cart, or ‘either, or any two, and which of them respectively, or how it was.’— Illustrated Bits, : | Fresh Air for the Anemic. Paleness of the complexion is often one of the signs of anemia—a com- plaint from which young girls very often suffer nowadays. For these an indoor life is exceedingly undesirable and they should be out in the fresh air.as much as possible, A course of cod liver oil and iron is beneficial and the diet should consist of milk, far- inaceus foods, etc., and a cold or tepid morning bath is excellent as causing better circulation to the body. Able Norwegian Women, The women of Norway, according to trustworthy advices, are active politi- cians and are taking a strenuous part in the campaign for separation from Sweden. They have not the right of suffrage, but they have powerful in- fluence and to their intelligent and persuasive agitation is attributed in large part the recent overwhelming vote in favor of secession. The stan- dards of education in Norway are high for both men and women. We do not know whether the latter earnestly de- sire the ballot or not but perhaps in no other country is the gentler sex better qualified to take part in public affairs.—Rochester (N. Y.), Democrat- Chronicle. Walk Every Day. Women as a rule get stouter sooner than men. The reason is not far to seek. The man gets out every morn- ing and takes his exércise, staying on his feet, or on the go all day, and it is not until night that he can rest. But it is the home woman who cannot exercise. It is the woman who must sew all day, or who must cook, or who must stay in the house with the children: this is the woman who must go without her needful recreation. The domestic woman grows stout from eat- ing creamy fattening foods, from drinking tea and coffee and milk, and from staying indoors and breathing the same warm air over and over again. It puffs her up with an un- healthy sort of fat, and leaves her in a poor state physically. She would get well were she able to walk every day. Maiden Names in Other Lands. When a woman is married in this country her- maiden name is seldom mentioned. Many people to whom she is well known have heard it. In France, on the contrary, there are con- stant reminders of the earlier dignity. In Belgium marriage does not extin- guish it, for many married women of- ten combine the old name with the new. Moreover they put the maiden name last, thus giving it the greater distinction. We can illustrate this by supposing the custom to prevail in this country. In that case Miss Brown when she married Mr. Robinson would have her visiting cards printed: “Mrs. Robinson-Brown.” This double- barreled arrangement does not give the Belgian wife a better social sta- tus than the English wife's, but it is very soothing to feminine + pride.— London Chronicle. Quiet Women Have Power. Your quiet women are the women of power. The noisy, blustering, arro- gant, self-asserting among them make the air hot with their voices, and trou- ble the world with their super-abun- dant activities. But this cannot be called real strength; it is more gener- ally a sham and a show which breaks down under the pressure of personal and private trials, while the true pow- er of those who, as wives, influence the present, and, as mothers, mold the future, lies hidden from the public, all the more valuable because of its reserve. The perfume from the violet steals out from the dense thicket where it lies hidden, while the sunflower turns the glare of its disc full to the gaze of.all passersby, scentless and coarse—patent to all, and without mystery or sweetness for any.—New- ark, (N. J.), Advertiser. Rules for Outdoor Life. Here are some rules for the girl who is going to try the outdoor cure: Don’t try to keep dressed up; let your clothing be loose and easy. Don’t worry about anything; resolve that this shall be a time of no worry. Don’t plan and don't think. Don’t eat between meals, and don’t worry about your peck of dirt. You will get it during the trip. Don’t be afraid of getting sunburn- ed; resolve to take a course of cucum- ber and lemon juice immediately after- ward; but for the present let the sun do its work. Don't sit around bareheaded; you are not used to it; and don't let the vivid sun play upon your eyes; it will make you head ache. Don’t think you can get fresh air by merely looking at the grass and trees; you must breathe deeply or you will not get half the air you ought to have. Try to have your fresh air cure ex- ecuted in some kind of privacy. The city park is all very well, but it is better to be where you can lie down upon the grass and kick. You will want to pretend you are a child again. Take a book along as a sedative; books are very soothing. Try not to think of your future or of your past; don't worry about the money market. Let your mind be tranquil. Imagine you are out at open sea. You can't get home if you want to. While you are tenting or other- wise taking the fresh air cure, why not take a course in philosophy. Fresh air and philosophy go well together. Study repose; study the art of keep- ing your hands still; and don’t forget that the fresh air after all, is only half the cure. The other half is your- self. You must be willing to be cured. —Health Culture. At Debutante Teas. For girls just leaving their teens, the fad is the afternoon tete-a-tete over a cup of carefully brewed choco- late, when the secrets and intimacies of school life and the first glimpses into the social world are weighed most seriously. Tea and coffee, the after- noon beverages of their mamas are tabooed by the rosy-complexioned daughters, who refuse to drink any- thing but extract from the cocoa bean, and that served in the most delicate and appetizing manner. The attention given to the prepara- tion of the chocolate for these after- noon tete-a-tetes makes it not only‘a warming but a nourishing drink. The first essential is that it shall be creamy and this is obtained by grating the un- sweetened chocolate, and allow it to dissolve over the fire with very little water. When it is thoroughly smooth the milk is heated in a separate dish and the two finally mixed together and allowed to boil moderately for at least five minutes. After this the saucepan is removed from the stove and the liquid beaten ten or fifteen minutes, when it is re- turned to the fire and a cupful of cream added. The most successful of the voung hostesses prefer to have the cream served in this manner rather than whipped and dropped in spoons fuls in each cup. Though the best way of all is to mix the cream with the chocolate, and lacking thick cream to whip, have a goodly supply of milk beaten to a stiff froth with the whisk- ed white of an egg. One young miss has a way quite her own of serving the afternoon choco- Jate. To a daintily equipped table in her pretty boudoir is brought very soon after her friends arrive a pitcher of smoking hot chocolate and another pitcher of the same size holding scald ed milk. Over a lump of sugar at the bottom of each cup she pours first enough chocolate to half fill the cup and then fills it to the brim with hot milk. A heaping teaspoonful of whipped cream is dropped lightly on the top and the drink is passed to the guest with an assortment of sweetened crackers or little cakes. But the chocolate is not the only at- tractive part of this tete-a-tete lunch. The china in which it is served is an equally important feature, and some of the most charmingly decorated pots and cups to match are employed for this purpose. Odd porcelain pitchers also do service as receptacles for the chocolate, in which case tall soda fountain cups with handles are used to drink from. The most unique of the fine china chocolate sets comprise a very tall, shapely pitcher, with a flower-like flar- ing spout and a deep cover, while the cups are unusually tall and slender, with a shape similar to that of the pitcher. These are set in china trays, which show the same dainty rosebud or fleur-de-lys design, and complete a bit of choice chinaware that is dear to the heart of every true woman. Separate pitchers without covers are wrought in heavy porcelain and dis- play all kinds of picturesque shapes including droll faces of laughing monks, sleepy-looking animals’* heads and stately floral blooms. Another fancy is the plain pitcher with a spout on one side and a perfectly straight handle projecting at right an- gles. This is very much on the order of the small nickle coffee pot, which holds the after-dinner demi-tasse.— Washington Star. Fashion Notes. The oddest and quaintest of all buck- les are used on hats. White feathers on a black hat will be found becoming to most faces. Narrow belts of black patent leather with gilt monogram clasps are good. A beautiful muff and boa set is of ostrich and marabou combined in that dark smoke gray known as taupe. " A clear stone ‘gray is a very fasl{- ionable color for coat and skirt frocks, which are nicely topped off with a hat of darker gray. The short-waisted empire coat is seen on every side and will doubtless be worn by those for whom fashion never designed it. | “FAKE" FURNITURE. How Frauds are Perpetrated In London, The “fakers” of furniture may be divided Into two classes, The first class is strietly honest, and includes those workmen who manufacture fac- similes of old furniture, whose work is sold in the big shops as replicas of antique furniture and nothing more, The second class consists of those “fakers” whose work is intended to deceive—to prove that “antiques,” like other things, are not always what they seem, These “fakers” are skilled workmen, Their first procedure is to buy up old, well-seasoned wood, If it is of a mouldy, worm eaten appearance, sO much the better, This wood they fashion into, say, an arm chair. They have many secret processes for giving their varnish an aged appearance, and if the chair is to be an upholstered one they have even preparations which impart a mouldy smell to the stuffing. When the chair is finished, more worm-holes are imparted to it with a delicate drill and scratches, which, though they look careless, are most carefully applied. The fabric covering the back and seat is quite ancient and moth-eaten before it is used. Art— to say nothing of artfulness—assists Nature further to give the chair a dil- apidated appearance hy the applica- tion of stains and cracks. When fin- ished, the chair looks as if it might be two or three centuries old. The “faker” has now to sell his work. He visits a partner of his—a man who runs a second-hand shop. The chair makes its appearance among the small dealer's stock, and the deal- er writes to one of his patrons to in- form him that an old chair has been handed over to him to be sold on com- mission. The amateur connoisseur visits the shop and the dealer affects to know nothing of the apparent value of the chair. The price is so much— a captivatingly low one for a genuine “antique,” but a vastly inflated one for a modern piece of work. The ama- teur thinks he has come across a rare bargain and buys the chair. It is no uncommon thing for a dealer to man- ufacture these chairs himself. While he is selling one to an amateur, two or three more “old” chairs may be materializing in a back room. Sometimes the “faker” will take more trouble still. He will buy, say, a table—a genuine antique. He will then take it carefully to pieces, and, making several facsimiles of this table, he will transplant portions of then genuine table into those he id “faking.” Then, when he finds a prospective purchaser who knows a little of the subject he will fetch out one of his tables and “Ah, any one can vou know t you're talking about, sir! t vou look at that leg. You can see plainer by that one than any of the others that the thing's a genuine antigt And if vou don’t believe me, I've got the re- ceipt of it somewhere on my file.” The purchaser examines the leg, finds that it is genuine, examines the receipt and finds that that, too, is genuine, and ul- timately buys the table. Another method of rid of fakes—especially small a to send an assorted crate of them to some rural cottage near a well known resort. Holiday makers pass the place, and the owner, after a chat with them, in- vites them in to have a lecok at the furniture—'‘just as my p old great- grandf’er left 'em to me.” The holi- day makers enter, the old fellow hints at financial depression, and offers to sell some of the things. The prices are low and the holiday makers eagerly snap them up, with the resuit that they are sold at double and treble their real value. A cabinet maker formerly earning £3 a week in a London factory now confesses to making £10 a week by faking furniture. His advice to those who do not wish to be swindled is to insist on a guarantee of the genuine- ness of the furniture, without which they have no legal remedy. He adds the information that sev- eral connoisseurs of repute are proud of many antiques in. their collection, while as a matter of fact the antiques are not three years old. He also con- fesses modestly that his work is to be met with in many provincial museums. —London Tit-Bits. say see ting les—is © What Lord Curzon Accomplished. Lord Curzon was able to realize the proud task which he set before him- self on assuming the Viceroyalty— the task “of placing upon the anvil every branch of Indian policy and ad- ministration, of testing its efficiency and durability, and of doing, if pos- sible, something for its efficiency and durability.” In pursuit of this task Lord Curzon has altered the assess- ment of the land revenue; has devised new methods for educating the native chiefs; has opened up military careers for the Indian aristocracy; has reor- ganized primary, secondary, and tech- nical education; has reformed the In- dian police; has appointed and super- vised a commission to lay down a com- prehensive scheme of irrigation that will decide for the next fifty years the operations of government; has zeal ously furthered meanwhile the build- ing of canals and railroads, has res- cued the civil service from the tyranny of the pen by abolishing a large num- ber of reports, and by encouraging each member of it to govern in the old patriarchal style.—Sydney Brooks, in Harper's Weekly. No Sleeping Cars in India. Notwithstanding the great distances sovered, the railways «f India carry no sleeping cars. The seats can be converted into berths, but travellers have to provide their own bedding Nor are there any dining cars. Fo een rnd] 0 6AAAALALLD CL is not that t loss t able, S and n will r remai had i the a ized: ways P ance count abuse prove tion. porat public ing a T shoul scien or an &> 4 4 ¢ 4 4 < < 4 < <4 < 4 ss 3 intere Think which seen rant ( some grine( ed int mock! books How brain in we prinei know deplo ings, a real canon nounc don’t tality a stry N ters. righte [ ? O- other; er wa one di A towar backw travel are nc and ir the w
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers