SIBERIAN EXILES. BY MRS. NAI-uLEON li. MgRANGE, Russia 1 Rupsi'a' Art tbou thy brother** keM' er I Are these tin children, over wandering deeiwr Into thHt ylooinv land, A faint, heart-broken band? Answer! Are these thy children, these shackled Claim they from thee tho heritage of sous? Didst thou e're nurso them at thy iron breast ? Wore once their infant locks by thee caressed? And thou canst see them famishing for rest I Who thinks at midnight on this somber land, lis punishments dealt out with iron hand, Must seo R phantom traiu That conies not home again. Marching in painful tile to liviugdeath! With hope, with all crushed out of life but breath. Art thou thy brother's keeper ? Russia! Russia I Are these thy children? Hast thou naught tc And yet they fall and d/o beside the way. How long that bowed procession looks to those Who, dreaming, hear the groans and feel the i throes To those horn happy, free, Cradled in liberty. . Keen from the West, how black that awful goal How terrible for even a hardened soul! Wo shudder at those grim, entombing mines, Wo mark bow brief the welcome summer shines; How like funi rui sentinels, Siberian pines. Oh! Russia! Russia! 'Tis a blacked page 'To scan in our enlightened, lenient age; When beans have softer grown, Even on tho loftiest throne; When man no longer to his God replies: "Am Imy brother's keeper?" When tho skies No longer smile and bend above Ln Bastile! And nations show a growth of tender zeal Tor all who suffer, all who live and feel. Far, far from the millennial day to come, When earth will bo ono universal home, Siberian dungeons seem! And yet tho Christian's dream Time may fulfill. Black Rusßia! Frowning Dread: Haunted by fearful shapes ! Land of tho dead Whose confines make en everlasting duress I May blossom like Isaiah's wilderness, And, wearying of curses, y earn to bless. NEW YORK CITY (Station AJ. FANCY VERSUS FACT. An Old Sailor's Yarn. )tF I was in yom place, Cap'n, J would keep that lit tlo old well-worn Bible as long as J t lived," said the lub ber when the sailor rounded to iu the fff usual resort. i/J Wf— g " Bible I" echoed the Cap'n in a puss * Bible is it that von are talking about?" "Why, the one you carried under your arm when you was a boy going onto the ship to be a sailor." "Did you ever hear me say anything j about mine or any other seaman's | Bible?" asked the Cap'n with forced i calmness. "N—o," replied the lubber, slowly, "but I've been led to think that all the boys who went to sea took one along. At least, they did in the Sunday-school books I used to read. The boy's moth er was usually a widow, and he had to go to sea to support her, and he always took a Bible with her name on the fly leaf. I have often wondered since why the boy didn't get a job ashore, but I suppose work was scarce tliat summer, and lie was stuck on the sea anyhow. Another thing that bothered mo some was the fact that he was generally gone three years, while his penniless ma was waiting for him to come back and support her." "And ho always shipped a Bible with tho rest of his dunnage, eh?" ventured the Cap'n, with the evident intention of drawing the lubber out. "Yes, the boy generally had a Bible tucked under his arm with a book mark sticking out of the back end of it, in tho picture where he is bidding his mother good-by before going to sea. Bho has her hands over her face and is weeping bitterly, poor woman, while he gazes manfully up at her from under his glazed cap-brim. And they al ways have his clothes-cliest showing in the picture. This is a small, square box with a rope handle in each end, and contains besides his clothes a num ber of healthful tracts for the sailors. "It has been so long since I read one Of the books that I've forgotten jusl how the story goes. But there is an other picture where the boy is march ing np the gangplank into the ship with his Bible, while a sailor follows him at a respectful distance, carrying the chest on his back. On the voyage the boy refuses to drink grog or chew long green tobacco, which the sailors kindly offer him. And every night in tho forecastle he reads a chapter from his Bible and then kneels down beside his hunk to prav, while the sailors heave rubber boots at his head. But tho noble boy j perseveres, and after awhile manages ! to steer the sailors into a religions | train of thought. He then passes among thorn with his tracts and leans on the taffrail moonlight nights telling tho rude but large-hearted sailors of a better and purer home beyond the j skies. NY hen tho voyage is over lid comes home with curly whiskers and a big bagful of gold just in time to save his mother from the cruel landlord who is about to foreclose the mortgagt and throw the unhappy lady out of tin house. I've often thought I woult like to he a sailor myself," concluded the lubber, "but I'm afraid I'm not re ligious enough, am 1 ?" "Hardly," replied the Cap'n, serious ly. "But then it isn't necessary for o bov to he ordained for the ministry it order to ship before the mast in an American man-of-war or any other ves sel I know of, except Cap'n Bundy's Gospel Tidings, which was launched hero last summer The Sunday-school sailor is all right iu the book", but he has never showed up on shipboard to my knowledge. I've seou hundreds of boys come over the gang-plank, and if any of them had Bibles they took pains to conceal them. They all had a han kering for government rations instead of spiritual food, and as for missionary work, why, they could give a pirate pointers on profanity. I have often wondered myself why sailors pay so little heed to tin ir spiritual welfare. They probably feel that the worst deal they can get m a future state will be a soft berth compared t<> their natural lives. "But we once bad a religious chap aboard, one Cyru bilger, of Ohio., Cyrus brought no Bible along, having' absorbed the good book all but the covers, and he was very polite as well as religious. Bilger had never seen a ship before and didn't know a bob stay from a spanker brail, and he al ways alluded to the vessel's hold as the cellar. But he couhl quote scripture by the yard, and what ho didn't know about seamanship he tried to make up in politeness. That was his best hold. "When a man isn't good for anything else he makes a big spread on polite ness or religion and sometimes both. "Young Bilge) s chief duty aboard the ship iva.s sweeping gangways and dumping out spit-boxes. Whenever the boatswain's mate., piped* 'Clean, sweep down lore an* aft, an T dump out all yer spit-boxes,' Bilger would say, 'Certainly, with the greatest of ideas ure.' Then he would stack up half a dozen spittoons and juggle them up forward, where he would give them a bath. The sailors often guyed him about this job, but he would only smile and say, 'We should never weary of well-doing.' But Bilger came out strong later on and showed us that he had the making of a sea man in him in spite of his milky ways, i "He went ashore one day. dressed in his best suit of clothes. Sailors have to wear their best clothes ashore, and even aboard ship they are compelled to dress to order. Every morning tho THE PROFANE BOY AND THE SEA PIRATE. word is passed forward regarding the uniform to be worn that day. One day it will be all blue, the next all white, and then white and blue mixed. Whon there is work to bo done tho order goes, 'Hear, there, the uniform for to day will bo working clothes,' and every body must be dressed alike at quarters. "Well, Bilger went ashore with the liberty party, and they got him drunk. I had charge of the launch that went in to fetch the party off to tho ship. On the first trip we brought them all off but two, Bilger and a fireman named Price. Price was a Welshman, whom we nicknamed Taffy for short. He was a short, thick, dumpy little fellow, who always wore trousers in tended for a full-grown man. Ho never had the pants altered to fit his short legs, consequently they looked like a pair of accordions. All his fin gers were gone at tho second joint, owing to an accident he met with in the fire-room. They woro taking up the iron deck-plates one day. One of the men with a crowbar got a pinch between the joints, and raised a plate which weighed about GOO pounds. Taffy was standing on tho plate at the time, and, stooping over, he put his fingers in the crack and began to lift. But tho crowbar slipped, the plate came down with Taffy standing on it, and broke his fingers off." "Very sad accident," murmured the lubber. "Yes. Well, when we got back on the second trip Taffy and Bilger had been having a li—l of a time. They were both drunk, Bilger having the biggest load and Taffy was kindly taking care of him. While we wero away on the first trip Bilger concluded that it would be a good idea to swim off to the ship—about two miles. So, without saying a word to his guardian, HE COULDN'T GET THE SHIRT OFF. Taffy, he plunged off the dock with his clothes on. Bilger couldn't swim a stroke, and, as his head ports were open, ho filled, and would have gone to the bottom had a native not jumped in and pulled him out." "AYhere was this, Cap'n? "On an island in the SouthPacifio. Of course Bilger felt uncomfortable with liis wet clothes on, and as soon as he got his breath he proceeded to strip, Taffy helping him. All went well with Bilger till he got to his shirt, which he pulled off over his head in the usual way. lie forgot, however, to unbutton the cuffs. The cuff of a man-of-war shirt tits tight to the wrist, and is fas tened with three horn but tons, sewed on with waxed thread. So when Bil ger skinned his shirt off the sleeves turned wrong side out and clung to his wrists closer than a brother. He was too drunk to know what was the matter, so he got excited. Taffy wasj helping him, but he broke away and went galloping along the beach, howl ing like a wild man, and waving the wot, soggy shirt in the air. "When we reached the dock Taffy was pursuing the unhappy Bilger, But as he was short-handed on fingers and Bilger's body being wet and slippery he couldn't hold him. Two or three of us started to help Taffy, but he waved us back; said he was sailing kliat craft himself and didn't want gnj h<*lp. So wo sat down and waitei while they went ahead with the per formance. Up and down the bead they flew, Bilger in the lead, witlj Taffy close behind. Sometimes one and sometimes both of them wer* standing on the shirt or tearing at it with tooth and nail. Then Bilgei would break away and lash the trees with his shirt, in the meantime shriek ing and frothing at the mouth. "At last they wore the shirt out and Bilger was free, except for a pair ol nice, warm flannel bracelets. Then we tried to load him into the boat, but he clutched the iron stanchions on either side of the gang-way and hung back. He wanted to swim. Wo hauled and jerked, while Taffy got behind and prodded Bilger with his linger stumps. This scheme wouldn't work, so Taffy suddenly grabbed his friend by the legs and turned him a forward somersault into the bottom of the boat. Then we started for the ship. On the way Bilger made a wild break and got half-way over the side, Jj, U t "^ al T v hauled him back. Then laffy laid on his back in the bottom of the boat and, clasping Bilger around tlio middle with both arms, hung 011. But Bilger was so stuck OA swim niing that daylhat he kept striking out with hands and feet all the way to the ship. "On reaching the vessel the swimmer was hoisted aboard and placed in a cell to cool off. When sober he was taken to the mast clad only in his flannel bracelets. The captain eyed the young man sternly, and harshly demanded : " 'Well, what have you to say for yourself V "Bilger blushed all over, but bracing up he threw off a graceful salute and said: " 'Please, sir, what is the uniform for to-day ?' "The captain broke down at once and j sent Bilger forward, where he received the hearty congratulations of the entire crew." . . . HOW HORN COMBS ARE MADE. BY EMMA YILO. *5 OMBS are made from ' Ur horns gathered in Aus- i and South Ameri- j [fj ca > an & f r °m buffalo ! £jgwßAl\ Thorn brought from vari- j aw m(/*N quarters. Each i| 0 market supplies a horn .of a distinct character, j the characteristic i * H closely maintained in : A ie production of the 0° 1 J combs. The processes adopted in niauipulat ing i -ie horn are, how ever, one and the r; ao for all kinds. The first operation ie to cut the horn in several different ways, so that when it is opened it shall bo of rectangular shape. This cutting involves the loss of several large pieces, and also of the tips so far as comb-making is concern ed; but the pieces are sold to manu facturers of other commodities, so that the total loss is comparatively slight. To assist the action of the knife, the horn is heated to a certain degree over the fire, by the side of which the operator sits. When out, the horn is often softened and opened by tongs and placed between screw * plates, wherein, under the influence of a | strong pressure, the pieces are flatten- I ed out. It is a characteristic of the horn to i remain when cold just as it is shaped when warm; so that, when the pieces | are removed from the screw plate, | they do not warp or curl up again, j Such pieces as are intended to be used for imitation tortoise shell are sub jected to an enormous pressure between heated and oiled iron plates. This heavy pressure, however, weakens the horn and renders it liable to split. Omitting the drying stage, the next process is to cut the pieces into suita- I ble sizes and shapes for combs, and I after that the teeth are cut. Original- I ly this was done by hand. Now it is done by circular saws, some of which are so line and thin as to cut from seventy to eighty teeth per lineal inch. They revolve at a very rapid rate; but, instead of traveling up to the horn, the horn travels up to the saw. After each cut the horn is auto matically moved forward the exact breadth of a tooth, and it is possible to arrange that a fine or a coarse tooth shall be cut at pleasure. This in itself is sufficient to stamp the machine as a most ingenious pieco of work. After the tooth cutting, the combs aro next thinned or tapered down to their outer edges. This is done on grindstones, and in due succession the teeth are rounded, pointed, or beveled, as the ease may require, by a special kind of file, or rasp. If from this stage it is necessary to treat the horn, to make it an imitation of tortoise shell, the object is effected by first applying a dilute nitric acid, which imparts a light-yellowish tinge, and afterward by dropping over cer tain spots a composition containing caustio soda, litharge, and dragon's blood. After somo time the blood is washed off, but tho spots beneath it are found to be slightly swollen up, and stained to a deep orange tinge. It then only romains to polish the combs, whether they are in plain horn or in imitation of tortoise shell. This is dono by first sandpapering, to get a smooth surface, then buffing on leather wheels, and finally polishing on wheels made up of circular pieces of calico, with frayed edges, which, though so soft in them selves, present a hard face when being rapidly revolved. A Fair Itnilrouil I'resiilenf. Mrs. Haines is the first woman ever chosen to tho Presidency of a steam railroad, but in her case there can be no doubt of the wisdom of the selec tion, her qualifications for tho position being conceded by all who know her. She is tho wife of Mr. C. D. Haines, senior member of tho well-known Haines Brothers, brokers and owners of the street and short-line railroads in Beveral States. They own a number of railroads, steam and street, in the Lone Star State, the Medina Valley being one. Mrs. Haines, the fair President of this line, is said to bo a most efficient officer as well as a most beautiful woman. AYli.it The Matter Was. "What is the matter with that baby?" growled an irascible husband as the little one persisted in howling and kicking to the extent of its little •light. "Tho matter is, sir," calmly replied tho wife, as she strode up and down the floor, "tho matter is that this baby inherits your temper." And tho husband returned to hie paper with a gloomier look than bo l'oro. She Followed the Fashion. Sergeant Baguot—Yes, my boy, this old musket's been through three wars with me. She's changed, though, from what she was once. She wore powder w hen in her prime. Grandson The fashion has changed since then, hasn't it? | Sergeant B. Yes; and now tho old lady has taken to wearing caps. I MAKING MAPLE SILL P. I'UK OLD-TIMK WAY CONTIIASTKD WITH THAT OF TO-JJAY. | I'rofreu In ll* Mmiurnclure Has Kept Kvei! Pare with TLIO TIIIIOH—The Kuifar- I IIIR: Senson-Sugui' Partlox in the WUU<IN ! —The Old and Young Make Merry. * '4 ' ftgC ag ° lG el ' I C/aj \ mont farmer and i te ll i.^ i * s h °y 8 > * n ie I j flj tort |®S_ °f the year when a3S Af IV*f iu harvest was ended, ! - - would take their ax- I iiHuMhic.- es anc * Home ! • j|J oßhard-woodedlocali- I vff limm withmaplesandlay out for a spring su £ar Cft ropaign. Head quarter s would be establish moth rock; ofttimes this was so located that it furnished shelter in time of storm and gave a bed for the night. A plan of operations was then decided upon. Young trees about one and one-half I feet in diameter were cut down, cut up I about two feet in length, and then dug j out,making troughs holding not far from four or five gallons. YVlien 200 or 800 of these had been manufactured, large j maples were selected, and by the side of each was placed one of these troughs. Then a cord or two of wood was gath ered and piled up against a rock, two big logs—called back-logs—were placed in position to support the kettle, and some large tree near by was cut down and that dug out into one immense trough for storage. This work would use uj) the best part of a week, one of the number going home at night to look after the stock and to bring back in the morning the brown bread, pork and beans. About the middle of March the old "five-pail kittle" was unearthed; the hand-sled which had been doing ser vice all winter was ordered up; pork, beans, a few potatoes, and several loaves of home-made bread, with a few dozen of eggs, were gathered together, placed on the sled, and the kettle turned over tlieni; and two young men, with snow-shoes, an ax, two or three pails, the family flint-lock, some pow der and shot, and a good supply of "punk"—an article found in decayed wood, which is about as combustible as STARTING FOR THE WOODS. j tissue paper or young oratory—and two I blankets, started out for nearly two months of "sugaring." Upon reaching I the rock the first tliiug in order was a | fire, but there were no matches then, ! so the old musket was brought into I service. One man held the "punk'' j near tho flint-liammer and caught a | spark. This he nursed, and soon had I shavings from a shingle ablaze, and later a big fire, which was never al j lowed to go out until of no further use 1 At once tho old troughs were looked | up, an ugly gash was made in a fine I maple, then "gouged," and a spout ! was driven in to carry the sap to | the trough, and when the sun I shone sufficiently tho tree gave forth | its sweetness. Then the manufacturers | of sugar saddled their neck-yokes and | gathered in tho sap, ofttimes walking I one half a mile to secure two pailfuls, which made about one-half of a pound of sugar, such as it was. An early breakfast, dinner as near meridian as tho eye and stomach could judge, and "tea" when work was done, comforted the inner man. For Java and Mocha sirup was a substitute, for sirloin of beef a fine slice of pork or the best of ham broiled on coals, and an ample supply of brown bread and roasted pota toes made up a repast that would do tho stomach of royalty good. For din ner a few boiled eggs broke tho mo notony, and "at tea" most anything that was left was eatop. At tho end of six weeks, when the party took account oi j stock, they usually had, all told, 200 pounds of sugar as black as Ethiopia and flavored with snow, rain, every thing that came off the trees, and now and then the body of a forlorn mouse or daring chipmunk who ventured toe near tho trough. This was pure Ver mont maple sugar something like 100 years age. Another generation realized that the world moved, and we find a shanty in some fine grove of maples filled with 800 or -100 buckets, and sometimes more. Outside is an arch for a kettle, not built of cut stone, but of material BRINGING THE DINNER. easiest at command. This is not an isolated spot; people here come and go; the "sugar place" is near-by hornet the wife or daughter at noon time brings up the dinner, and a good din ner it is; there is a small kettle at command and a "sugar off" is then ill order, and an hour's sport that king, prince, or potentate might envy, but not covet. To the assuming daughter of papa, to say nothing of the com placent manipulator of the type writer, the idea of a girl tramping a mile or two in the woods, carrying din ner for men dressed in coarse woolens, may not he pleasant, but could they see that girl with lior dinner-pail or "waxing sugar" with honest, hardj men, they would realize that there is such a thing in life as enjoyment. Oft times it is found necessary to boil sap all night in order to catch up with tho flow of sap, and during a "big run" this sometimes lasts for a week. Then nearly the entire family moves to tho lmsli. The head of the house gets a little sleep while tho wife or some of the children keep the kettle full and the fire "a-humping." A "humping fire" is what the sugar-maker always MAKING SAP TROUGHS. enjoys. Ofttimes these sugar orchards are near each other, and family visits are in order, and some love-making is indulged in. Lads and lasses play "high-low-jack," and watch the fire, kettle, and each other. In the old days a very respectable j quality of sugar was made, but only a j little more than was necessary for home use, although 100 pounds or so some times was exchanged for store pay. The farmer who then controlled a sugar orchard of 800 or 400 trees was rec ognized as one of the biggest men in town. At the present time the farmor is not content with less thau 1,000 trees, and ho holds them as precious as the owner of an orange orchard does his fruit trees. Every young maple is carefully looked after. If there is a scrub oak, beech, birch near by to im pede its growth it is cut into firewood. Many an orchard to-day is so cleared of fallen timbers and underbrush that in the summer months one can drive over nearly every portion of it with a horse and buggy. The small streams are bridged and good roads are found on all sides. If there be a cheerful spot on earth during the summei months it's the farmer's sugar place. Here are the finest songsters in the world, and the squirrel is tho prince ol the field. Many farmers will not allow a gun to be taken into a sugar-bush and ofttimes in the spring tliey place in easy reach of tho squirrels near the sugar-house a few ears of corn, because they enjoy the company of the lively creatures, which often are quite domestic. To-day tho maple sugar-bush is in every way truly homelike. Near the center of fifty or mora acres of hard wood timber land—mostly maple, a few beech and birch—you find a commodi ous sugar-house, one room of which is much larger than tho entire house of seventy years ago. In tliis well-floored room are stored the buckets during the summer, and in the springtime it is used for kitchen, reception-room, par lor. or dance hall. In it you will see a THE OLD-TIME SUGAR-HOUSE. fine brick arch, an evaporator, and ample storage-room for the sap, wliih outside is a thrifty pair of oxen yoked to a gathering slod, on which is a till holding from twenty-five to forty pails Like the rest, the oxen take their din ner in tho woods, and five or six "rounds" are considered a good day's work. Three hundred pails a day is called good work. This sap is drawr to the sugar-house, and from a long spout is conveyed to large storage tubs, and thence to the evaporator, oi pan, kettles having long since beer discarded. The evaporator is of mal leable iron partitioned off. The sap. entering at the head of the arch, me anders across the pan a dozen times OJ so, and on reaching the foot a heavy, clear, and pure sirup is produced. This is carefully set aside until "sugaring off" day comes, when it is cooked still more and is ready for the tub or caking. About twice each week the owner ol a sugar bush has a suganng-off party. First all tho old folks for miles around come in on ox sleds and on foot, and a good old-fashioned time is enjoyed. No one seems to realize that they are growing old. Later on the coming generation are on hand and buxom girls, hopeful young men, maidens, and boys gather at the sugar-house. They are in for a good time. First there may be a tug-of-war, with snow-balls, in which the girls take an active part, I and a Vermont girl can throw a snow ball with hitting effect. She uses more precision firiug at a young man jfor whom she has no admiration than when she tries to "shoo a hen" off the |garden patch. When tho war is over the manufacture of paddles is in orden ok> eat sugar with a spoon in the woods would be regarded as a violation of all the rules of etiquette. So the young man takes his "best girl" one side, and selecting a sofa- -usually a large log, or if lighter furniture is required two buckets are inverted—they sit down and commence work on their paddles. The paddles being made, down to the sugar-house they go, secure a pint or more of the sirup, and start for a snow bank, upon which they pour it. This at once hardens and furnishes a sugar repast that can not be excelled. 1 0.-. a quarter of a mile about the sugar house you will see these pairs cooing and eating maple sugar in its primitive state. General Kelson Applet on Miles. The promotion of Brigadier General Nelson A. Miles to the rank of Major General is a matter of greater interest to Chicago than to the rest of tho i country, as the impression is general that he will succeed the late Major General Crook as commander of the I Division of tho Missouri, with head- i quarters in this city. But it is note- ! worthy chiefly as the promotion to tho highest rank in tho army of an officer who was never at West l'oint. A WOMAN'S strange gait may not al* ways bo caused by her gaiter. Dom Pedro in Exile. Pom Pedro's mode of life at present, as he informed the writer in a recent conversation at Nice, differs little from that which ho was accustomed to in Brazil. His chief pleasure seems to be derived from literature. His study, which is on the second floor of the Hotel Beau-le-Jour, commands a full view of the Mediterranean, and is em bellished with handsomely bound vol umes of many of the famous authors of ancient and modern times. His favorite among the latter is Victor Hugo. The Emperor rises every morn ing at 0 o'clock, and, after partaking of his cafe au lait, reads the newspapers, many of which are published in vari ous languages. At 9 o'clock he has a genuine Yankee breakfast, a taste and habit he acquired while visiting the United States. He then goes out for a drive, in the course of which he vis its places of historical interest. Re turning to his apartment about noon, he partakes of a light luncheon, then spends two hours in his library. At 2 o'clock he has his dinner served in French style. After dinner he some times receives intimate friends, to whom lie devotes an hour or so. Later ho takes a walk for about a half hour. Returning to his study, he gives him self up to writing until 7 o'clock, when supper is served. After sup per an hour is devoted to the society of the members of his household, who en tertain him with some favorite games; finishing this, he returns to his library, where he communes with his chosen authors until 9 or 10 o'clock, when ho retires for the night. The World's Fair Booiu. Mrs. Clerk—Why, Aunt Jemima! Aunt Jemima—l like your environ ments, except that upholstered furni ture and large-figured carpets are out of fashion; but they can bo changed. Take my hand baggage while I give the hackinan orders about my trunks. Mrs. Clerk—Your trunks! Then you Aunt Jemima- Design to make you a nice little visit. I hear that Chicago is a great place to get married. You must introduce me to all your rich bachelor and widower friends. Mrs. Clerk —But—Uncle John Aunt Jemima -Has treated mo aw ful. I hear, though, that Chicago is a good place for divorces. Mrs. Clerk—But you live in lowa. It will take a year to gain a residence here. Aunt Jemima- That's the beauty of the arrangement. I'll have lots of time I to get bids I mean, make a selection, i By that time the World's Fair will be ! along. The minute I heard it had been located here I laid out a nice little pro gramme. I'll tell you the details aftei lunch. We owe everything to Colum bus, and I'm going to help get up a boom for him. Lend me a dollar tc pay the hackman, that's a good girl! Time Works Wonders. One of our nouv.eaux riches, whc was desirous of having his fatlier'e portrait sketched, went to the paintei and made known his desire. The artist asked to see him who was to be paint ! Ed, but was informed that it was im | possible, as the old gentleman had i taken up his permanent residence in | the cemetery. "Well, you have a photograph of him, I haven't you?" was the next question. "Got a photograph of him? Well, 1 I guess I wouldn't be a coinin' 'round j hero to get his portrait painted if I j had a picture of him already," was the I reply. At that moment a portrait of Moses that was hanging in the studio caught his eye, and lie said: "Who's that?" "That's a picture of Moses," was the reply. "Well, if vou could paint that old fellow, who iived centuries ago, I don't I seo why you can't paint my father,whc ; died only a few years ago." The artist immediately seized upon j his prey, so ho said: "Well, come around here in a week, j and I'll have your father's portrait I painted." : The artist for the following seven j days busied himself in constructing an ! old man after his own ideas, and when the customer arrived at the studio he disclosed the result of his ingenuity and said: "There, sir, is your father." The Croesus was amazed. He looked aghast at the picture and only found breath to say: "Lord, how the old man has changed!"— Buffalo Express. A Bold Stroke for Fortune. Young and struggling M. P. (glad Jo get a small fee)-—Now, madam, you will not need mo any more. Take carc >f yourself and you are all right. Convalescent—Tlieu allow mo to pay fou, Doctor. Doctor—Let me see. Ten visits. Well, say $lO. Convalescent —Only $10! Why, Doctor Doctor (seized with a happy thought) —Ten dollars a visit. Convalescent —Ah, that is more liko t. [Receives his check and his fortune s as wood as made. 1 A Bog's Fad. Mr. Jaeger of Rochester, New York, was frequently puzzled by the ab sence of his dog. The animal was fre quently absent half a day at a time, and recently was missing for two days. His owner advertised for him, and on the following day he was returned by a man who had discovered his peculiar mania. It was for riding on street cars. Ho will gel aboard of any car he sees and ride until he is put off. Mr. Jaeger proposes to get a .season ticket and attach it to the dog's collar, that ho may indulge his street car propensi ties in a jproper and legal way. THERE is said~"to be a tree at Monti cello, Fla., which bears three kinds of fruit—auinces, pears and apples. THE TRIBULATIONS OF EDITORS. Few I'oople Have as Many Trlal-L.lk Pruucliei'!4, They Are Poorly Paid. people have as many trials and tribu lations as the average editor. There are so many drawbacks in the editorial carer that we have only time to touch lightly on a few. As a general thing the editor, like the preacher, is very poorly paid, says Te.ras SiJtings. If lie is on a politi cal paper and his candidate and party are succesHtnl the editor is forgotten in the hour of rioting. The political THE POLITICAL EDITOR AT WORK. bummer gets paid for bis services dur ing election times in actual cash. The editor gets paid for his services in thanks. But a life of poverty would not bo so bad if the editor's feelings were not being continually plowed up by unfeel ing persons, when, for instance, the ollice bov announces that a gentleman outside has a bill he wishes paid. It is painful at times to decline manu script, but in such cases it should be done. It is very trying to an editor's feel ings when a supposed friend says: "I saw an excellent thing in your paper tke other day;" and when the editor imagines it was one of his editorials, he adds with a cruel, cynical smile: "It was a recipe for making lobster salad." But about the meanest thing to do to an editor is to ask him where he is going to spend the summer. Very frequently journalists are un kind to each other. Not long since the following appeared in a country paper: "We do not desire to be personal, but if the lean, lank, liver-colored lump of lunklieadativeness—we refer to the thimbleful of alleged brains that edits(!) our esteemed contemporary, etc " How painful it must be to the ed itor's wife, when asked by the rag man if she has any rags for sale, to be obliged to reply: "No; my husband is down at the otlice, and he has all his clothes on him." Then the editor has ofttimes trouble in the manipulation of the mechanical department of his paper, when, for in stance, the chuckle-headed new press "WE DO NOT DESIRE TO RE PERSONAL." man greases the forms to make the roller run slick, thus causing the paper to look as if it had been chucked to gether with a shovel. And as for having leisure hours, that is something about which the editor has no ideas whatever. If ho has any he spends them in catching up with his work. An Absent-Minded Farmer. A Scotch farmer who was a little absent-minded was one day going into Perth with a load of hay. He led the lioi-.se out of the stable, but instead of backing it into the trams of the wagon he absent-mindedly led the animal along the road and never as much as looked behind him till he walked into the yard, leading the horse, where the liav wasto be delivered. "Whaur will I back into?" he cried to a stableman standing by. "Back in what ?" asked the man. "The lmy, you stupid idiot." "Whst hay? Ye've nao hay, ye daft gowk." Turning round, to his con sternation the farmer for the first time apprehended the faut that ho had left the wagon at home and brought the horse alone. In his hurry to repair the error he started off at a trot and was half way back to his own farm before he realized the fact that ho had left the horse behind. — Scottish AmeT' ican. As Loving and Sentimental as Ever. "I don't think Jones lias been indulg ing too much," said his kindly believing •spouse, "but still I thought it rather odd of him that he should wrench the knocker off the front door and bring it 'up to me as I sat in bod, saying that ihe'd gathered another rose for me out of the garden. I'oor, dear, simple boy 1 He's just as loving and sentimental as ever lie was "—Troy Br ess. Bring Your Name with You. Among the well-known servants of a well-known house in Lewiston is one young woman of native "old country" wit, who never is at a loss for an ex pedient. She attended a call at the door the other day, where a stranger presented himself and asked to see the lady of the house. "What name shall I say?" "Mr. Stiltzenheimor," said he. "Beg pardon, sir," said she. "Stiltzenheimer," repeated he. The girl hesitated at the name, which was evidently beyond the intricacies of lier speech, and then, opening the door of the parlor, said vith a laugh: "Step in, sir, if you - - lease, and—and bring j the name with you."— Lewiston Jour- I nal, ...
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers