GOOD NIGUT IN THE COUNTRY.
Klowly the sun fader out of sight.
Good night!
Rubin goes to his welcome nest
To rest!
Now, as the shades of eve increase,
Nweet peace
Rests on the country all around;
No sound
Bave the soft ripple of the stream.
dream
Of just one heav'n mortal knows
Repose!
All but the ever surging deep
sleep!
Sleep till the early morning Rght.
Good night!
w=La Touche Hancock, in the New York
Sun,
NR NEE R ANA EN
THE THREAT OF 49
ABNER PHILLIPS §
EN EN ES NT
The dinner horn sounded raucous-
ty through the shimmering heat of
the July noonday, its strident sum-
mons carrying even to the lot where
David Warner was whetting his
gcytiic in the grateful shade of a
Father Abraham apple tree. The
whetting ceased abruptly; the scythe |
was hooked up in a low hanging
limb, and David, mopping the inner
band of his straw hat with a red |
handkerchief, made his way up the
lane to the low white house.
He pushed open the door of the |
slied and strode into the darkened
kitchen to find his wife sitting de-
Jectediy in a chair by thes
were traces of recedt tears in her |
eyes.
“What's wrong, Abby?” he asked, |
with clumsy solicitude. “Tired out?”
She shook her head. “It's father,”
she zzid, wearily. |
“What's the matter with him? |
Ain't sick, is he?”
“He's got another of his spells of |
goin’ tc the poor farm.”
“Sho!” was David's mild expletive.
“I call it real mean of him,”
burst out, hotly, “to go stirrin’ thi
up so right in the middle of hayin
time, when I've all those extra hands
to cook for! lle might have waited
till next week.”
‘‘He wasn’t very considerate, that's
e fact.” Her husband's voice had a |
hint of anxiety in it. ‘‘What set him |
goin’ this time?”
“Oh, I s’pose 'twas my scolding as |
much as anything,” she said, in a |
voice that quavered with righteous |
wrath. “I was fryin’ doughnuts this
morning, and he come in with some
fead in an old skillet. Said he'd got
to make some sinkers for the boys to
go fishin’ with, and wanted to melt
ft. Perhaps I did speak out sharper'n
need be, but I couldn't have him at
the stove then. The next thing I
knew, he came in from the shed with
his old black valise and went up
stairs with it. Said he wasn’t goin’
to be a burden on anybody, and he
guessed the poor farm was Lhe place
for him. He's up stairs packin’ his
things now. I wish you'd go up and
alk to Lim.”
David stroked his chin thoughtful-
%y. A grim light came into his eyes.
“He hasn’t any call to be throwin’
the poor farm in our faces,” said he.
“I don’t know but what it'd be a
good idea to let him go chis time.”
“Let him go to the poor farm?”
gasped his wife, in horrified surprise.
David smiled a little sadly. That
his father should feel his presence to
be unwelcome, even without cause,
was a source of pain to the farmer's
dutiful heart.
“He won't go to the poor farm,
Abby. Don’t let that worry you. If
fie goes anywhere he'll go down to
Mary Jane's. Wasn't he talkin’ only
last Sunday ’bout goin’ down there
for a visit? You just try him and
see!”
“I don't know but whzai you're
right,” said Abby. ‘He's pretty try-
fng when he gets on one of these
spells.”
“I know,” said David. “I know.
The trouble is we've always wheedled
dim and coaxed him too much
when he's said he was going. He
knows its plagues us to hear him
¢alk that way, but if we should pre-
tend not to care I think he'd change
his tune pretty sudden. If he says
anything more about the poor-farm,
just make out it won't disturb you
a terrible sight to have him go. I
know it seems sort of hard-hearted,
but it'll be best for all of us in the
long run if we can get this bein'-a-
burden business out of his head. 1
guess he’s coming down now.”
There was a scraping and bumping
on the back stairs. A door near the
table opened, and Abner Phillips
came into the room bearing a bulg-
ing black valise in his hand. He
was arrayed as for a journey. A long
linen duster covered his ill-fitting
Sunday clothes, and his best felt hat
was perched on his thin gray hair.
“You aren't leavin’ us, are you,
father?” David asked, cheerfully. |
The old man surveyed them stolid- |
1y over the rims of his spectacles, |
first his daughter, then his son-in-
law.
He seemed to be awaiting the
usual protestations which his former
announcements of his intention to
become an inmate of the poorhouse
bad invariably raised.
! #gucss 1 know when I'm in the |
wags! ke observed.
Now, father—"’ Abby began.
“J ain't intendin’ to be a burden
on anybody,” he interrupted her. |
“I'm goin’ to the place where 2 De- |
= jong-—and that’s to the poor-farm.”
“Goin’ to have dinner before you |
start, aren't you” David asked.
“I'll get my dinner there.”
“If you put it off till next week,”
David suggested. I could take you
|
|
ove. There | helf-witted Jim Green
| truly, A. D. Phillips.
| of doubt.
i at the poor-farm. He cleared his
| soon’s you can,
| be home by to-morrovs
over, Just now In the middle of
hayin' I can't spare a horse.”
The old man stiffened, “The selects
men will see't 1 get cover,” he aald,
coldly, as he moved toward the door.
David could not restrain a chuckle,
“Give my love to Mary Jane's folks,”
he said,
But Abner seemed not to hear him,
He banged the back door and went
slowly out of the yard to the dusty
road,
———
It was the third day ater old AD-
ner's depauture that the horn, sound-
ing in the late afternoon, brought
David from the hay-field. As he
reached the crest of the slope behind
the house, he saw Abby sitting on
the back steps, her face buried in her
| apron and her broken-hearted sobs
plainly audible. The remaining dis.
tance to the back steps he covered
at an awkward run. He reaciied he?
side breathless—and far spent.
“What-—what's happened, Abby?"
| he eried, gaspingly.
i *Oh, he went
| brokenly, “he went there.”
| “Who? Went where?”
| “Father!” she sobbed. “He eut
| to the poor-farm, after all.”
| David's eyes widened. His nnder
| jaw dropped. He stood for a full
| minute staring at her stupidly.
“He didn’t, did he?” he managed
to ejaculate at last.
{ “Yes, he did!” she said, willly.
“I don’t know what we were think-
ing of to let him go.”
“How do you know hes gone
there?”
She lifted her tear-stained face
from the depths of the apron. “That
drove over
this afternoon in one of the poor-
rm teams with & note from him,”
she said.
“Where is it?" :
She fumbled about the step and
presently handed him a bit of crum-
pled paper. Upon it was scrawled in
a shaky hand:
Abby—Send over by bearer my old
strav- hat and my galluses. I need
them. The hat is hanging up in the
back hall. The galluses is in the sec-
ond draw in my burrow. Yours
"
there,” she said,
ie
David stuffed the note into his
pocket, There could be no shadow
The old man was indeed
throat hoarsely.
“You get your things on just as
Abby,” he coun-
seled. “I'll go and get a horse off
one of the rakes down in the field.
We'll fetch him back right away.”
Twenty minutos lates Abby came
hastily out of the back door and
climbed into the waiting wagon be-
side her husband.
“If I'd had the least notion he
was really going there,” David said,
as they drove out of the yard, “I
should have said somethin’ that
morning he started.”
“I know you would, David,” she
declared. “I ain’t blamin’ you a
mite—not a mite.”
It was growing dusk when they
reached the poor-farm. The old
brick house and the outlying barns
on the summit of the little hill were
sharply silbhoutted against the flam-
ing sky.
As they drove up the winding cart-
path that led from the road, awd
stopped before the shabby porch with
its erumbling yellow pillars, a figure
rose from the shadows and came
down the steps with an oddly familiar
shuffle. Abby gave a little hysterical
cry of recognition.
“Father!” she said, and springing
lightly from the wagon, she caught
the old man’s arm in both her own.
He stood looking at her silently, his
face wearing an expression of mild
surprise.
“Get your things right away and
come back with us,” she said.
“We came to take you home.”
“We never s’posed that mornin’
you left us you were really coming
here,” put in David, contritely.
The old man fell to chuckling
softly.
“Neither did I,” he confessed,
naively. “I intended nothing more’'n
to go down to Mary J-ne’s to spend
a few days, just as you an’ Dave cal-
culated I would. Didn't know that
door to the back stairs was open all
the time you were talkin’, did ye?”
“How came you to change your
mind about goin’ to Mary Jane's?”
said Abby.
“Well, I hadn't got very tar down
the road when along comes Nate
Simpson, the overseer of the farm
here, an’ he stops an’ says he's got
a lot of sick sheep up to the poor-
farm, an’ he’s heard I'm an uns
common good hand with sick sheep.
I've been uy lgre a'doctorin’ of ‘em
ever since.”
“Then why didn't you tcll us you
were here in that notc you sent down
by Jim Green to-day?’ said Abby
severely.
The old man chuckled again.
‘“‘Hain’t I told you that door was
open when you an’ Dave were talkin’
that morning?” he replied. ‘And
say, Abby, those weren't my galluses
you sent up. But you needn't bothe-
about the others. I cal’late I shall
Light,” —
Youth's Companion.
Man and the Earth.
If it were possible for a man to
construct a globe 800 feet in height
—much less than twice the height
of the Washington monument—and
to place upon any portion of its sur-
face an atom one four thousand three
hundred and eightieth of an inch in
diameter and one hundred and twen-
tieth of an inch in height, it would
correctly denote the proportion man
bears to the gigantic globe upc
which’ he stands.—~New York News.
?
Steers T is plain that agriculture in this country has a future here:
out depriving it of the essential advantages of the country,
There will be left the sweet and vitalizing country air, the isolation of
broad acres, the beauty of hill and vallley woodland and meadow and living,
running
transmitted to us and we preserved it because of its ancient and hallowed as-
the
ate interest in their growing young, will always be an inherent and uplifting
element of life upon the farm. The rich blessing of unconscious health, the
Joy of wholesome work, that brings wholesome rest and wholesome apppetite,
are the natural rewards of this outdoor occupation. Nearness to nature, near-
ness to God, a truer philosophy, a keener human sympathy, higher ideals,
greater individuality, will ever be stamped upon the life and character of the
country home,
The new agriculture, the new education, new inventions, will give added
interest, larger profits, greater certainty of success. They will lighten its bur-
dens, widen its sphere, and ultimately make agriculture the most desirable of
all avocatioas.
OOo MA
Yooeeeo
water,
NPA nsf fone
This Spelling Problem
Soobesal
00000090
OO LALA 4
vooe0ee
oe
OOO OLAA
guage, if they ever do learn. - This is merely sentimental argument.
People say it is the spelling of Chaucer and Spenser and Shakespeare and
a lot of other people who did not know how to spell anyway, and it has been
transmitted to us and we preserved it because of its ancient and hallowed as-
sociations.
If that argument is good, then it would be a good argument not to banish
the flies and the cockroaches from hospitals because they have been there so
long that the patients have got used to them and they feel a tenderness for
them on account of the associations. Why, it is like preserving a cancer in a
family because it is a family cancer and we are bound to it by the test of af-
fection anl reverence and old mouldy antiquity.
I think that this declaration to improve this orthography of ours is our
family cancer, and I wish we could reconcile ourselves to have it cut out and
let the family cancer go.
; “True Americanism’’ :
ny, that government must rest upon the consent of the governed, and that the
people should choose their own rulers.
To believe that freedom must be safeguarded by law and order, and that
the end of freedom is fair play for all.
To believe not in a forced equality of conditions and estates, but in a true
equalization of burdens, privileges, and opportunities,
To believe that the selfish interests of persons, classes, and sections must
be subordinated to the welfare of the commonwealth,
To believe that union is as much a human necessity as liberty is a divine
gift.
To believe, not that all people are good, but that the way to make them
better is to trust the whole people.
To believe that a free state should offer an asylum to the oppressed, and
an example of virtue, sobriety and fair dealing to all nations.
To believe that for the existence and perpetuity of such a state a man
should be willing to give his whole service, in property, in labor, and in life.—
Harper's Magazine.
TYvooeeOe
Thbekedtdeton d OR what js true Americanism, and where does it reside? Not
RAR Syed
$ The Gospel of Getting On §
BBR, By Lillian James Crockett.
HOUGH I speak with the tongues of men and angels, and give
[2X
it profiteth me nothing.
Flattery schemeth long, and is complaisant; flattery envieth not—because
she is sure to keep ahead. Flattery vaunteth not itself—but its superiors in
office; is not puffed up—but knows whom to puff.
Does not behave with unseemly self-respect, but stoopeth with becoming
humility; sceketh not her own dignity; is not easily provoked at being patron-
ized, thinketh no evil—of the rich and powerful.
Beareth all things, fawneth in all things, cringeth in all things, endureth
all things—essential for aggrandizement.
Flattery never faileth; whether there be enthusiasm it shall fail; whether
there be advisers they shall cease; whether there be knowledge it shall van-
ish away——clear out of sight. 2
Flattery never faileth; whether there be enthusiasm it shall fail; whether
there be advisers they shall cease; whether there be knowledge it shall vanish
away—clear out of sight.
SR
Pn
As the Ideal Life
Farming
By Senator Robert M. Follette. $
tofore unknown in the world, Farming is now the most dis-
tinctive American occupation, It is the source of our safest,
most conservative citizenship and highest average of intelli
gence,
Put the farm in direct communication with the world by
rural delivery, the telephone, the electric railway, the travel:
ling library, the township school, the improved highway, and
you have given it the essential advantages of the city with-
The charm of the ripening grain coming to its
pride in the grazing flocks and the effection-
a’ «a
a’ a
By Mark Twain.
enfyronrmprermninen
HERE ar 82,000,000 of us people that have to spell, and or-
thography ought to be simplified in our behalf, but it is kept
in its present condition to satisfy 1,000,000 people who like
to have their literature in the old form. That looks to me
to be rather selfish, and we keep the forms as they are while
we have got 1,000,000 people coming in here from foreign
countries every year, and they have got to struggle with this
orthography of ours, and it keeps them back and damages
their citizenship for years until they learn to spell the lan-
LE
CI
By Henry Dan Dyke. S
on the tongue, nor in the clothes, nor among the transient
social forms, refined or rude, which mottle the surface oft
human life. True Americanism is this:
To believe that the inalienable rights of man to life, lib-
erty, and the pursuit of happiness are given by God.
To believe that any form of power that tramples on
these rights is unjust.
To believe that taxation without representation is tyran-
Lk]
x a
2 UUERS
not flattery, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling
cymbal.
And though I have the gift of prophecy, and perceive all
chicaneries and wire-pullings; and though I have all faith, so
that I could remove deadheads and give not flattery, I am
nothing.
And though I bestow all my work to pamper the idle,
and though I give my brain to be turned and givenot flattery,
said gravely, “If she lives she lives,
if she dies she dies. I can dae nae
mair for her.”
jE STING OF THE SOORPION.
Mischief Making Qualities of a North
African Species,
Though the sting of a scorpion in
{ temperate climates is painful, it is
not regarded dangerous. In tropical
and semi-tropical countries it often
produces alarming symptoms, probe
ably because the creature which ine
flicts the injury belongs to a more
dangerous species of the family than
is found in colder regions, A French
physician, Dr. Gros, who has had
much experience in Algeria, describes
a case which came under his notice.
The New York Medical Journal finds
the particulars in a foreign periodi=
cal.
A robust farmer, while lying in
bed, was stung on the foot by a
scorpion which was about as long as
his middle finger. He instantly felt
a pain which he likened to a “ball
mounting to his heart.” He was un-
able to step, fell down on his bed,
and was overtaken by violent nausea.
During the entire day the man
could eat nothing, though he had no
difiiculty in swallowing. He com-
nlained of dryness and stiffness of
the throat, but was not very thirsty.
His breathing was particularly pain-
ful and embarrassed. For the whole
day and the following night he was
extremely feeble and restless and
could not sleep.
On the following morning the man
was brought to Dr. Gros. His face
was then pale, his eyes were fixed
and haggard, and the upper part of
his countenance was motionless, but
he was constantly executing the
movements of chewing and swallow-
ing without opening his mouth. His
gait was uncertain and he tumbled
upon a chair rather than seated him-
self. His speech was slow and em-
barrassed, though he answered ques-
tions intelligently in spite of his stu-
pid appearance.
Among the cther effects were a
great quickening of the pulse and
breathing, and a remarkable con-
traction of the pupils of the eye.
Still the eyesight was not impaired,
even temporarily, and there was ro
disturbance of the other organs.
The man was treated with a serum
inveited by Dr. Calmette, a French-
man, for fighting snake poison. He
eventually recovered, but might not
have done so had any other course
been pursued.
A Patrol Motor Fireboat.
The Rio Tinto company has large
warehouses and docks at Huelva,
Spain, from which its shipments of
copper are made. For the protec-
tion of the company’s property a
small steam fireboat has been main-
tained for some years past, but the
directors, not being satisfied with the
power of this vessel, asked Colonel
Fox, chief officer of the London Sal-
vage Corps, to inspect and advise as
to more powerful apparatus. As a
result a novel petrol motor fireboat
has been built. A run on a measured
mile off Greenwich was made, both
against and with the tide, the speed
attained averaging nine miles an
hour; one and a half inch, one and
three-quarter inch and two inch solid
jets were thrown from the monitor on
deck, the largest stream reaching a
height of about 200 feet.
The great advantages of this ves-
gel are that it can be started instante
ly on an alarm of fire, there is no ex-
pense in maintaining steam ready for
a call, it can be easily worked by two
or three men only, and is of light
draught, enabling it to get close to
its work at low tide.—Engineering.
The Chinaman’s Ear His Purse.
“Just watch that Chinaman when
the conductor comes for his fare,”
said a keen-eyed man to the fat man
who was wedged in beside him on an
*L’” train. The two watched, saw the
Chinaman clap his hand to his ear
for a second and then hand the con-
ductor a nickel. “Well, I did not see
anything unusual,” observed the fat
man, ‘except that he kept the con-
ductor waiting while he scratched his
ear.” ‘That was just the point,” ex-
plained the keen-eyed man. “He had
to scratch his ear to get his money,
Chinamen keep their carfare in their
ears, sometimes a ten-cent piece and
sometimes a nickel. I've watched
them dig it out time and time again.
It’s a more convenient place for car-
rying change than in their trousers
pockets, for they’d be ages getting
into their voluminous draperies. It's
a good sight better habit, too, than
holding coins between one’s teeth,
which you see pretty girls doing
every day.”—New York Correspon-
dence Pittsburg Dispatch.
The Value of a Good Laugh.
Dr. Patrick Scougal, a Scottish
bishop in the seventeenth century,
was earnestly asked to see an old
lady whose cow was sick. The pre-
late again and again refused, but to
satisfy the old body, reluctantly
agreed to go. Having seen the old
lady, she wanted him to see her cow,
and walking around the beast he
When I was a child I spake as a child and said I vias going to work faith-
fully and pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon, and tell the truth and
hiteh my wagon to the stars and finally drive it through Elysian fields of mid-
dle-aged affiuence. I understood as a child, I thought as a child that success is
the reward of diligence. When I became a woman I put away childish things
and learned that if you indulge the luxury of honor you've got to pay for it by
living on a back street. |
And now abideth vanity, ignorance, and flattery, but the greatest of these
is flattery. ——Life.
{ bishop was afflicted with a quinsy in
i the throat. The good, honest woman
i hearing of it, and feeling he had
{ eured her cow, got permission to see
him in his chamber.
{ around the bed repeating the words
of the bishop when he walked around
the cow. At this ludicrous sight the
bishop was seized with a fit of laugh-
ing which broke the quinsy and
saved him much suffering.
youth,” Stevenson used to say, was
*‘the perennial spring of all the inen-
tal faculties.”
In a short time afterwards the
She walked
“Keeping alive that spirit of
Professor J, J. Thornson, in a re-
cent lecture on the modern theory
of the constitution of matter at the
Royal Institution, said that the atom
is now regarded as being made up of
“masses of positive and negative elee=
tricities.”” The negative electricity,
even when not attached to a material
particle, is conceived to exist as an
extremely small, discreet particle in
itself. Such electric particles are
called corpuscles. It has been proved
that they are less than a thousandth
of the size of a hydrogen atom. Pro-
fessor Thornson spoke of them as
“the bricks of atoms.” It should
not be inferred, however, that they
are packed together in the atom like
bricks laid immovable in a wall.
They move freely, and in a vacuum
their. velocity may range between
1000 and 60,000 miles per second,
according to the degree of exhaustion.
The physiological effects of feeble
radio-activity have been a subject of
investigation in France by E. S. Lon-
don. Using a quarter of a grain of
radium he applied this to the forearm
for brief intervals, and obtained a
distinct reaction after a minimum ex-
posure of fifteen seconds. He sus-
pended four grainsof radium bromide
in a cage about eighteen inches long
by sixteen wide and twelve high.
Three rabbits confined in this cage
showed redness of the ears after six-
teen days, while burns soon appeared
on the backs, and after fourteen
months the backs and heads were de-
nuded of fur and covered with ulcers.
Movements had become apathetic and
slow, the hind legs being partially
paralyzed. The eyes were affected,
and post-mortem examinations re-
vealed changes and degenerations in
the muscles, liver, spleen, kidneys
and generative organs,
The expansive force of compressed
air is employed in a very interesting
way by the North Carolina Granite
Company. On a sloping hillside, com-
posed of granite which shows no bed
planes, but splits readily in any di-
rection when started, a three-inch
bore is sunk about eight feet deep,
and the bottom is enlarged by ex-
ploding a half-stick of dynamite. A
small charge of powder is fired in this
hole, which starts a horizontal crack
or cleavage. Charges increasing in
size are exploded until the cleavage
has extended over a radius of seven-
ty-five or 100 feet. Then a pipe is
cemented into the bore, and air is
forced in, under a pressure of from
eighty to 100 pounds. The expansion
of the air extends the cleavage until
it comes out at the surface on the
slope of the hill. A horizontal sheet
of granite several acres in extent may
thus be separated.
The thermophile fabrics of G. Herr-
gott, of Valdoie, France, introduce a
novel method of applying warmth,
and are expected to do much for do-
mestic electric heating. The fabrics
are a combination of textile and con-
ductive threads, the latter being made
of any required size and combining
with any textile materials. When
woven the electro-thermic wires are
hidden, many electro-thermic wefts
enter into each circuit, and the cir-
cuits are joined by collector wires,
of which one pole is placed in each
selvage of the fabric. There is no
danger of fire or other accident. The
temperature may range from seventy
degrees to ninety-five degrees F. for
carpets up to 250 degrees to 300 de-
grees for hot-air baths, and the pos-
sible applications are many, including
use for foot warmers and articles of
clothing and furniture, drying ap-
paratus, baby incubators and numer-
ous hospital appliances and most pur-
poses requiring constant moderate
heat.
Seven Rules For Longevity.
The following rules for living to
a ripe, old age are given by Mrs.
Henderson in her recently published
volume, The Aristocracy of Health
(Harpers) :
1. Study the laws of nature for
health and the remedies of nature
for cure.
2. Avoid all poisons.
3. Take abundant exercise in pure
air, but always short of fatigue. So
exercise that every portion of the
body is equally benefited.
ney, cultivate lung-power by slow,
deep-breathing exercises.
4. Eat only the amount of food
that nature needs, and study what
to eat from a scientific point of
view,
5. Cultivate normal sleep. Live
and sleep only in rooms that are well
sunned, well ventilated, and not over-
heated.
6. Cultivate the habit of work in
connection with some worthy ambi-
tion, for healthy exercise of body
and mind is as strengthening as res
pose, and should balance it. Work
while you work and rest while you
rest, avoiding all worry. Make your-
self useful to the world, and feel
that you have a mission in it.
7. Avoid all environments, the
worst of whieh is the friend who en-
courages you to poison yourself,
Buying or Seliing?
It is told of the son of a horse
dealer, a sharp lad, when once une
expectedly called upon by his father
to mount a horse and exhibit its
paces, the little fellow whispered the
question, in order to regulate how
he should ride:
“Are you huying or selling?’ —
Tit-Bits,
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