AN AUTUMN SONO.
All the summer's worn and old;
The sun lias censed a-ooing it. \
Trees ure drooping blood and gold-
Blood for murder of the right,
And gold to hide it out o' sight;
L'ut for all they are so bold
1 think they'll fail for doing it
Till the careful sun is cold.
Till the watching stars for dread
Go out, and cease to lighten it,
Cruel earth drinks up the red,
Wrung by lußt of greedy gain
From the broken sweater's pain,
From the dying and the dead,
Till never moon may whiten it
With her silver pity shed.
Ye who tread a golden way
With hearts of others paving it,
Hark! the autumn voices say:
"The yellow leaves He anklo deep,
But through them still the crimson peep,
ltuddy drops to Btain the day.
No ufter rain-drops, laving it,
Wash the purple from the clnv."
—[Nina F. Lnynrd, in Harper.
LOVE—FIFTEEN."
A STOItY FOR GIRLS.
Of course lawn tennis had made its
way to the pretty little village of Ashtou
and, of course, "The Inseparables," as
Madge lloston, Neil Glynn and Elsa
Trent were universally dubbed, wel
comed it with open arms and henceforth
became its devoted followers.
They had been very enthusiastic over
croquet two years before, but now cro
quet seemed too tamo, and the croquet
set had been left to the tender mercies of
little Bobby Trent, who scattered the
mallets and balls over the premises and
set up his wickets in the most unexpect
ed places, so that the members of the
family were liable at all times of the day
to find themselves reversed, so to speak
—their nosci in violent contact with
mother earth and their heels waving in
the air.
The summer before Nell Glynn had
gone to New York for a week's visit, and
had come home with glowing accounts
of the new game. "Why, girls!" she
exclaimed, while lier black eyes shone
aud her closely cropped head bowed ex
citedly, "croquet is nothing to it. You
don't know how jolly it is. I saw it
played in the Bark."
"Why can't we play it?" queried Elsa
in her slow way. "What must we
have?"
"Ever so many things and they cost so
much! We must have balls, a racket for
each one of us and a net. Then, if you |
want to be very high-toned you have i
tennis shoes, a cap or Tain o' Shunter ami 1
a blazer and a blouse and other things."
All this sounded delightful aud they
entered into a discussion of the subject
with all the interest which fifteen-year
old girls usually have in anything prom
ising fun.
"Your lawn would be just the place ,
for the court," said Madge, as she twist
ed Elsa's long yellow curls around her
fingers. They were on Mrs. Trent's'
piazza, Elsa and Madge sitting on the
top step, while Nell was perched on the
railing, looking like a gypsy in lier red
dress, with herstraight black hair falling
all about her shoulders.
"Girls, I'll tell you a plan,"and Nell's
tan shoes swung vigorously back and
forth as she spoke. "Let's earn it. It's
too late to play this fall, so we will have
winter to work in."
"Yco," rojoiuod Madgo, "but lIOW ill
the world shall we ever do it?"
"Oh, if we keep on the watch we shall
find ever so many chances to earn a little.
Why, only yesterday Tom offered me ten
cents if I would go down to the post
office for him. I wish I had known of
this ; I'd have gone."
"Yes, and we might go without some
thing and save money instead," put in
Elsa.
"I'll save what I.spend for candy, and
that will help sonic," said 3ladgc, who
had a sweet tooth.
"Young ladies, I'll donate the net if
by spiingtimc you have raised enough
money for the rackets and balls," came
in deep tones from the window, where
Uncle John, who was always sure to fa
vor any plan for giving the children a
good time, sat reading.
Neb in her joy sprang to the ground j
and was executing an Indian dance upon |
the lawn, when suddenly she plunged in- !
to a clump of rose bushes and disup- I
pearcd from view.
"It's that horrid Bobby's wickets,"
cried Elsa as she and Madge rushed to
the rescue, and at length, amid much
laughter, they succeeded in pulling Nell
out.
All through tlie Winter months the
girls seized every opportunity of adding
to their fund aud the result was that one
warm Spring day Uncle John brought
home a large package from New York
containing the rackets, net, balls and a
book of directions. With his help the
court was marked off and the net put up,
and from that time forth at all hours of
the day could be heard the sounds of i
laughter, mingled with phrases unintel
ligible to the looker-on, such as "love
fifteen," "pick up," "deuce," "thirty
all," " double " and others equally mys
terious. The vigorous exercise did the
girls good and the faint color in Elsa's
pale checks and her improved appetite
delighted her parents and Uncle John.
Nell and Elsa had each made a "Tam,"
Nell's of pale-pink worsted and Elsa's
of blue, while Madge's mother had
given her a red nml white tennis cap, and
now the three girls were each trying to
save money enough to get one of the
pretty striped blazers they had seen dis
played in the store windows in the town.
Elsa's elder sister Helen had played
several times the previous summer while
on a visit to a friend, at which time she
had bought a racket, so that now she
sometimes made a fourth in the game,
and was considered an authority when
disputed points arose. Of course, with
so much practice the girls soon became
quite good players, and seemed about
equally matched, though each had her
strong points.
The lawn where they played was
bordered by a thick, closely-trimmed
hedge, on the other side of which was a
tiny brown house. About a year before
a middle-aged woman named Bassett had
come to the village and rented this cot
tagc, and, though she appeared to have
some means of hev own, she increased
her income by doing fine washing and
ironing for two or three of the wealthiest
families in the place. Occasionally one
of the tennis players would make a wild
hit at tlie ball and it would go flying
over the hedge and lie snugly hidden
under Mrs. Bussctt's squash-vines or in
her strawberry bed. This was always
considered a great misfortune, as it gen
erally necessitated a long search.
One day towards the beginning of Au
gust, Nell, in reaching upward for a ball,
gave it such a vigorous side-knock that
away it went over the hedge. A groan
went up from the three and Nell was
starting towards the gate when, to their
surprise, the ball came back over the
hedge and fell at their feet. Their sur
prise was the greater in that they had
just seen Mrs. Bassett go up the road
and there was no one else in sight, so
they went on with their game.
It was not long before another ball was
sent towards the hedge, but, fortunately,
I did not go over. However, when Elsa
went to get it she could find nothing of
it. She was peering into every corner
for it when a voice at licr side said:
"There it is sticking up in the hedge."
Elsa jumped, the voice was so near her,
and turning quickly around found her
self staring into a pair of bright brown
eyes. The owner seemed to be a girl
about her own age, who had evidently
been watching the game through a small
opening in the bushes.
"Oh. thank you," said Elsa, recover
ing herself and reaching up for the ball.
"Do you like to play tennis?"
"I like to watch it, but I have never
played," was the answer.
"It's great fun," rejoined Elsa, as she
went back to her game.
After this their balls were always
thrown back aud Elsa always had a nod
and a smile for the face peeping through
the gap; and one afternoon shortly after
tenuis was suspended for a time, while :
an earnest discussion went on.
"Why, Elsa, we don't even know her
| name!" exclaimed Nell.
I "Yes, we do; it's Klioda Lewis. She
' told me the other day."
"Itseems queer, though, to ask a wash
erwoman's niece or granddaughter, or
whatever she is, in to pUy tennis," said
Madge, shrugging her shoulders. "She
may be awfully disagreeable when we
come to know lier."
"She isn't any real relation to Mrs.
Bassett. Her mother died when she was
a little baby and Mrs. Bassett took care
of her, and now she is staying there until
September, because her father is going
to be married again, and then she is go
ing home, and she doe 3 seem real nice.
Mamma says she must be lonesome. She
thinks it would be nice to ask her over.
Helen says she may use her racket when
she isn't playing. I don't want to invite
her though unless you arc both willing."
"Well, I don't mind if she is only go
ing to be here until September. You
may as well ask her. Maybe she won't
want to conic."
Madge assented, and not many min
utes after Miss Rlioda walked demurely ,
in at the gate, lier eyes were bright
with pleasure, and the girl came to the '
conclusion that if she only did not have
I such a homely, old-fashioned dress on :
| she would really be quite pretty. But, as
Nell said to Madge while the other two
girls were hunting for a ball, "How can
you have nice things when your mother
is dead and you are poor beside."
Rlioda proved to be an enthusiastic
learner, and often made quite brilliant
plays, but she was too apt to get excited
and rush madly at the coming ball,
which, of course, is the 6urest way to
| miss it. But she was always ready to
j laugh at her mistakes aud soon became
I a great favorite.
I All four girls were thrown into a state
of great excitement a few days Inter by
' a proposition which Uncle John made.
He proposed—Mrs. Trent having first
conseuted to the plan—that the first week
iin September Elsa should have a tennis
I party, to which she should invite all
her friends. If the weather proved
pleasunt supper could be served on the
lawn, and a line time might be expected.
Of course this plan was received with
great delight, but their enthusiasm
reached its height when Elsa's uncle
concluded by saying that on that day
there should be a tennis match. Each
one of the four was to play a "set" I
alone against Helen, and the one who
scored highest would receive the prize.
"Of course, 1 will do this only on
condition that those who lose will be
good-natured, realizing that only one
can get the prize; but you can all have
the fun if you look at it in the right
way."
They all promised to look at it in any
way lie wished if he would only give the
prize, and the rest of that month was
devoted to steady practice. Rlioda en
tered with great zest into the prepara
tions, though not being as good a player
as the rest, she had no hope of the prize.
She secretly hoped that Elsa might get
it, but she did not express this wish
except to Mrs. Bassett.
At last the eventful day dawned clear
and beautiful. The first Tuesday in
September had been chosen, as on Wed
nesday Rhoda was to go home, and as !
she had so few pleasures, they wished to I
share this with her. At ii o'clock the guests I
began to arrive and soon gay groups were
to be seen scattered about the grounds.
Some wi re singing, others playing cro- |
quel or wandering about looking at the I
beds of gray flowers, while a few tried
their hand at the new game, occasioning |
much merriment both among themselves
and the spectators by their awkward at
tempts at batting the ball over the
net.
About 3 o'clock the parents and older
friends who wished to see the tennis
match arrived, and at 3.30 the trial of
skill began. Seats were provided for the
older part of the audience, while the
younger ones sat upon the soft grass or
1 strolled about.
Uncle .lolin wrote the names of tlie
girls upon four strips of paper and then,
shaking them about in his hat, drew
them out one by one, thus determining
the order in which tliey should play.
Madge's name was the first to be
drawn, and with a gay laugh she picked
up her racket aud balls and took lier
place on the side of the net opposite
llcleu. In spite of herself she was a little
nervous at first aud lost her first serve,
but after this she made some excellent
plays and finally won the set, o—3.
Elsa's turn came next, but to Rhoda's
disappointment she did not play as well
as usual, and at the end of the first five
games the count was 4—l in Helen's
favor. But then the tide turned, and
she outdid herself and won tlie set,
(I—4.
Nell's name was now called and the
games were very close. It was feared by
some that Helen, though not as good a
player, might win Nell's set, for the
games were only 5—4 in Nell's favor and
it was Helen's serve. But at last, after
"deuce" had been called several times,
Nell won a point, making her "vantage
out." Helen then sent a swift ball, at
which Nell made such a desperate lunge
that she slipped and slid the whole
length of her body, "quite like a base
ball player," Uncle John said, but she
got the ball over and won, C—4.
Rlioda now took her place, though,
of course, Madge was looked upon as the
victor, but probably because she thought
she had little to lose, Rhoda was the
coolest player of the four, and,as some
times happens in games of skill, the one
least likely to win achieves a brilliant
success, so Rhoda played as she had
never done before, and amid tho cheers
of the audience, and after several closely
contested games, won tho set, o—l.
Then Uncle John took from'liis pocket
n small box, and with a low how and a
ceremonious little speech presented it to
Hhodn. She refused at first to take it,
sayine that she was not the best player
—that it was all by chance thnt she had
won it, and that the prize really belonged
to Madge. However, Madge utterly re
fused to listen to this, saying that as
ltlioda had won it fairly it belonged to
her. So, at length, Rhoda consented to
take the box, and on opening it disclosed
to view, lying in a nest of pink cotton, a
beautiful gold pin in the form of a racket,
on which lay a pretty pearl ball, while on
the handle the words "Love —Fifteen"
were engraved. While they were still
admiring the gift the guests were sum
moned to a dainty supper, after which
games were played until it was time to
disperse.
Rhoda bade her friends good-by that
night, jis she was to start for home
early the next morning, and so the day
ended.
One day about a week later Mr. Trent
brought home a long, Hat box, which
had come by express and was directed to
"Miss Elsa Trent." What was her sur
prise <n opening it to find three beauti
ful blazers, the finest and nicest she had
seen, while in the bottom of the box was
a note addressed to "Madge, Nell and
Elsa." It did not take long to call the
other girls, and then the note was
opened and read,
j "Dear friends," it began, "when I told
: papa how good you were to me he
thought it would lie nice for me to send
you a remembrance, and I knew you
would like blazers, so here they are.
The red stripe is for Madge, the pink is
for Nell and the blue for you. I hope
you will like them. Your friend,
"Rhoda 11. Lewis."
Though greatly pleased, the girls were
much puzzled as* to how her father could
afford such a present, but they could
come to no satisfactory conclusion until
one day late in November, when the
mystery was solved.
The three girls had come to New York
on a morning train with Uncle
John and were to do their shop
ping and get their lunch in time
to meet him in the afternoon.
They were in the midst of their shop
ping when some one at their side gave a
little laugh and whispered gently, "love
fifteen," when looking up, to their
amazement tliey saw Rlioda.
Hut it was Rhoda transformed. This
stylishly dressed girl was not the Rlioda
they had known, and the lady whom she
presently introduced as her mother did
not resemble in the least the stepmother
they had pictured to themselves. And
when Mrs. Lewis had insisted on their
getting into the carriage and driving
home to lunch; and when they found
that lthoda's home was a stately brown
stone mansion, they had to pinch them
selves to make sure that they were not
dreaming.
"Why, Rhoda," said outspoken Nell,
as soon as they were left alone together,
"we all thought you were real poor."
At this Rhoda laughed merrily.
"Why, no; I have always lived here with '
papa, but when he was going away he j
asked which 1 would rather do, stay here
or go and visit with Nurse Bassett, and
I chose to go there. I suppose I did look
dreadfully dowdy, but the housekeeper
always bought my clothes and I fear she
had not a great deal of taste."
"Doesn't it seem just like a story book,
Uncle John?" exclaimed the girls that
, night after telling him all about it.— 1
[New York World.
Remarkable Somnambulism.
A remarkable somnambulistic feat was
performed a few nights ago by Christo
pher Med way, of Cave City, Ivy. Mr.
Medway is a prominent lawyer and a
scion of one of Kentucky's oldest famil
ies. In 1801, at the breaking out of the
war, his father packed up his silver
plate, which was very valuable, and hid
it in the Mammoth Cave.
I This was done in the midst of great
I hurry ar.d confusion, and owing to some
1 oversight the place was left uumarked,
I and when, in 1805, the Med ways wished
to dig the silver up no one could reeol
■ lect with any certainty the spot, and
though it was sought for, off and on, for
! years it was never located, and the nu
merous excavations resulting in no dis
covery it was finally believed that some
one had stolen the box and refilled the
hole.
Mr. Mcdway's father died convinced
that it was so, and for more than ten
years no one gave further thought to the
matter. Hut recently Mrs. Medway re
vived the subject by relating the story to ,
some friends in her husband's hearing,
and that gentleman says lie went to bed i
wondering if his father's belief in the
theft of the box was correct, and that
on falling to sloe]) he rc-enacted the scene
of the removal and burial of the silver
at which he was present, though only a ;
i boy of fourteen.
I When he awoke lie found himself lying
on the ground close to a large rock and |
in black darkness, except for a faint j
gleam of light in the far distance. At j
first he experienced some difficulty in !
realizing where he was, but when he did !
concluded, on remembering his dream, j
that he had managed to slip
by the night watchman, into the cave, i
and, his memory, singularly aroused in
his slumbers, had found his way to the
spot where lie had seen the silver buried
twenty-nine years before.
After marking the rock, he made liis
way to the gate through which he saw
the morniug light stealing, and as he was
in his niglit dress, called to the watch
man uud despatched him after his
clothes. He then hired workmen to dig
in the spot where he had found him
self on awakening, and soon had the sat
isfaction of seeing them lift out the case
of silver, which being opened was
found intact.—[New York Telegram.
Using Cats as Clocks.
Every one knows that cats can sec in
' the dark, and the reason they can do so
i is because of the peculiar construction of
their eyes. You ma; not have noticed
that in a moderate light the pupil or
black part of pussy's eye is small and of
: an oval shape, while in the full glare of
r light it becomes narrow. Now, in the
i dark it expands to a circle and nearly
i fills the surface of the eyeball. This pe
-1 culiarity of the cat's eyes is turned to ac
• count in a curious manner by the Chinese.
The Abbe Hue ielates that when lie was
traveling in China lie asked his atten
dant what time it was.
The man went over to a cat that was
quietly basking in the sun, and examin
ing its eyes told the Abbe tliat it was
about two hours after noon, and on being
questioned how he knew that, ho ex
plained that the pupils of a cat's eyes
were largest in the morning and that they
gradually grow smaller as the light in
creased, till they reached their minimum
at noon; that then they began to widen
again, till at niglit tliey once more became
large. The good Abbo was filled with
admiration for the ingenuity of a people
who could use cats as clocks. But it
must be admitted that this way of tell
ing the time of day is rather a loose one,
aud could only be trusted in very clear
and serene weather, for temporary gloom
or the darkness of a storm would sadly
derange your four-footed clock and put
it all wrong.—[Chicago Herald.
THE JOKER'S BUDGET.
JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY
MEN OF THE PRESS.
Wrath Turned Away—An Infelicit
ous Quotation —What was the Mat
ter, etc., etc., etc.
WHAT WAS THE MATTER.
He—Do you think there is anything
effeminate about me? Miss Willets tola
me last evening that my mannerisms put
her in mind of herself.
She—Miss Willets is a fool.—[Epoch.
TIIE COFFEE SUPPLY.
Customer —Give me a pound of Java
coffee.
New Boy (diving with a scoop into a
coffee bin) —Ycssir.
Customer—Wait, I've changed my
mind. I'll take Mocha instead.
New Boy (diving into the same bin) —
Ycssir.
Customer—Sec here, you started to
get the Java out of that bin.
New Boy—Yessir. No difference 111
th' coffee, sir, only difference is in th'
price.—(Good News.
SHUT THAT DOOR!!
The time is fast approaching when the
visitor to the sanctum will step in smil
ing and conlident, and just as he is about
to say:
"Here is a little thing I have just
dashed off," he will be paralyzed by a
voice exclaiming in tones of thunder:
"Go back and shut the door!"—[Bos
ton Courier.
WRATn TURNED AWAY.
Merchant (angrily, as clerk enters three
hours late) —Where in the name
[Clerk offers him a twenty-five cent
cigar. ]
Merchant (continuing)-—— of sense do
you buy such good cigars?—[Epoch.
"WOULD STAY BALD.
Agent—You are bald, I see; now here
is a preparation that will force out a
luxurl
Jimpson (glancing toward his wife) —
I don't want it, sir, I have more hair now
than I want.
RECIPROCITY EXPLAINED.
Maud —What do they mean by recip
rocity?
Claude--Now, if I were to kiss you and
you should kiss me in return, that would
be reciprocity.
Maud —Why, it's nice, isn't it? I
thought it was something bad.
AVOIDING A MISUNDERSTANDING.
McCorkle—Did I tell you about a fish
swallowing a snake that I saw while
away 011 my vacation?
McCrackle—No, but before you begin
I want to ask you one question.
"All right."
"Is this a snake story or a fish story?"
—[Brooklyn Life.
SHOULD BE ABLE TO MANAGE IT.
She—lie seems a very methodical
man. I suppose he understands his busi
ness thoroughly.
He—Yes.
She—By the way, what is his business.
He—lie has none.—[Epoch.
HATEFUL TEOPLE.
First Pedestrian—There's a man I hate
worse than the plague.
Second Pedestrian—Why?
First Pedestrian—He always pro
nounces my name wrong.—[Street tfc
Smith's Good News.
A RESPONSIVE CHORD.
I The Chicago Post has struck a chord
to which all men, without regard to race,
1 color or previous condition of servitude,
will quickly respond. It runs thus:
| But of life's sweet surprises there is one
that outdoes all the rest,
Aud that's to find a quarter in the pocket
of a last year's vest.
DESERVED A LIFE SENTENCE.
"Prisoner, stand. How many times
have you been convicted of crime?"
"About 'leven times, J edge."
"Have you no fear of the law?" stern
ly demanded t lie Judge.
"No, y'r Honor," answered the pris
oner, in a broken voice. "I've got the
courage of my convictions, I reckon."—
[Chicago Tribune.
A CONTRAST,
lie (before marriage)—l could die for
you.
He (after marriage)— You will be the
death of me.
SHE WAS A SUMMER GIRL.
Jack—"Why arc you so cold and in
different to me, Amy? and only a few
weeks ago you told me that I was the
sunshine of your life!
Amy—But remember, Jack, that this
is the season when the sunshine loses its
power.—| Munsey.
A MISAPPREHENSION.
Hisnibs—What did that auburn-haired
girl snub you for just now?
II is jags—l can't imagine. T waited
for her at the cloak room door, and
when she appeared I offered her my arm
and said, "Ready?" and she went off as
though I'd insulted her.
NEWLY RELATED.
Miss Blocks—Who was that man who
bowed as ho passed by?
Miss Kleeks—lt was my brother.
Miss Bleeks—Why, I didn't know you
had a brother.
Miss Ivlceks—He only proposed to me
last week.—[Minneapolis Journal.
I HISTORY FAILED TO RECORD THIS.
I "Good MorniAg, Mr. President," said
; Thomas Jefferson to George Washing
! ton one day in the summer of 1789.
"Good morning. Mr. Jefferson," re
plied the Father of his Country; "it is a
warm day after the reign."—[Chicago
j Inter-Ocean.
i .
AN INFELIC ITOUS QUOTATION.
"How good of you to come, doctor. I
didn't expect you this morning."
i "No; but I was called to your oppo
' site neighbor, poor Mrs. Brown, and
! thought I might as well kill two birds
with one stone."—[Punch.
HIS STATION.
Emma—T met a charming man at the
beach to-day, mamma, and he asked if
he might call.
Mamma -Did you find out what sta
tion he occupies in life?
Emma—On, yes, mamma; he told me
all about himself. He occupies the gov
ernment experimental station at Geneva.
—N. Y. Ledger.
PLEASANT DREAMS.
"Woman is a delusion," we have heard
The ones well schooled in worldly
knowledge say.
And this is why it has to us occurred.
The men still hug delusions day by day.
—[Chicago Post.
NOT IN nis LINE.
Poet—The new one thousand-dollar
bills have a portrait of General Meade.
Friend—How in the world do you
know that?—[Brooklyn Life.
TIIE FAILED CROP.
Young Lady—How much is this ribbon
a yard?
Clerk— Ten dollars, madam, and going
up every minute.
Young Lady—Mercy me! I didn't
suppose it would be over fifty cents.
Clerk (with dignity)— That ribbon,
madam, is peach color.—[New York
Weekly.
VIRTUE REWARDED.
"Here, my son," said a kindly-looking
old gentleman, meeting a boy who was
whistling along the avenue this morn
ng, "here is a dollar."
"Yes, sir," replied the boy, taking it
hesitatingly "but what must I do with
it?"
"Keep it, my boy; keep it, and may
Heaven s blessing go with it and wifli
you."
"But, sir, what for?" questioned the
boy in a very natural amazement.
"Because, my boy," and the tears were
in the old man's voice aud in his eyes,
"because you were not whistling 'Little
Annie Rooncy.' " —[Washington Star.
NOT AFTER A DAY JOB.
Past-Commander James S. Fraser, of
the Grand Army of the Republic of this
State,told some friends,the other night, a
story about a man he sent down to the
custom-house to get a job as night-watch
man. Colector Erhardt sent the man to
the civil-service board to be examined.
The man was quite intelligent, and an
swered the questions put to him until
he was asked what the distance was be
tween the earth and the sun. He hesi
tated for a time, and finally acknowl
edged that he did not know.
"You don't know ?" said the commis
sioner, severely.
"Mister," said the applicant, "Ididn't
think I'd have to answer a question like
that. I'm looking for a night job."—
[New York Star.
TOO VISIONARY.
"Your father refuses his consent to our
union?"
"He does, Harold."
"Nothing seems to be left for us, then,
except elopement. Do you think, Myrtle,"
said the young man, swallowing a sob,
"that you could leave this luxurious
home, forfeit all the enjoyments of
wealth, banish yourself forever from your
parents' hearts, and go to the West
with a poor man to enter a home of life
long poverty?"
"I think I could, Harold."
"Then you are not the practical girl I
have taken you to be," said Harold, with
deep dejection, as lie rose up wearily and
reached for his hat. —[Chicago
Tribune.
NO BREAD.
Philanthropist—l suppose this laziness
is bred in you fellows.
Tramp—Not by a big sight. I'm as
empty us a vacuum.
A CLEAR CASE.
"I'm now convinced Cora don't love
me."
"Why so?"
"Because she begins to laugh every
time I try to have a quarrel with her."
THE BRIDGE OF SIZE.
She—You remind me of the Brooklyn
Bridge.
He—Why? Because I live in sus
pense?
She—No, but because of your sighs.—
[New York Herald.
AN UNOBJECTIONABLE FAD.
Minnie—Even though it was my last
chance, I never would marry u man who
was devoted to a fad.
Mamie—No? Yet that is just what I
expect to do shortly.
Minnie —And what is his particular
hobby, please?
Mamie—Me.—[lndianapolis Journal.
The First "Spouter."
In the salt wells on the upper Cumber
laud, about Burkesville, Kentucky, in
1829, was opened the first of the great
fountain wells which have constituted
the most wonderful phenomena in the
production of oil. In Nilcs's Register
lor 1829 will be found a short notice of
this fountain well, which was described
as one of the wonders of the world. In
boring for salt, at a depth of about 800
feet, a reservoii of gas and oil of great
dimensions was struck. By the elasticity
of the gas the tools were thrown out of
the well, and a jet of oil was produced
which rose us high as the tops of the
trees. This formed a rivulet, which ran
down to the Cumberland River, where
the oil covered the surface for many
miles. About forty miles below Burkes
ville the film of oil was accidentally ig
nited, and for some days the strange
and interesting spectacle was there seen
of a burning river. The inhabitants were
naturally greatly alarmed, for that task
of proverbial difficulty, "setting the
river on lire," had been there accom
plished; and supposing that the coullag
ration which had attacked the river
would naturally spread over the more
combustible shores, a general panic was
produced, and it was thought that the
end of the world hail surely come. For
tunately, after about three weeks, the
llow of oil stopped, and no more damage
was done; but 110 011 c regarded the loss
of millions of barrels of oil, sinco it was
then entirely valueless. Some years after,
an enterprising citizen pumped oil from
this well, and sold it over the country as
an embrocation. When I was stationed
in Kentucky during the war, I still found
bottles of it in the drug-stores, where it
was sold as "American Oil," aud was
held to be a valuable remedy.—[Har
per's Magazine.
The Writing Rock.
A number of Boston savants recently
visited the famous Writing Rock located
011 the shores of the Taunton River, near
Dighton, Mass., and discussed a project
for its removal to and preservation in
some great public museum. The Writ
ing Rock is one of the bases for the
assertion that Columbus was not the dis
coverer of America. It consists of an
insulated mass of fine-grained granite
lying on the sands of the river a few
feet above the low-water mark, but cov
ered with water at each flow of tho
tide.
It is eleven feet long and about five
feet high. On the water side it presents
an inclined plane surface, the face of
which, eleven by ten, seems to have been
originally covered with inscriptions and
sculptures. The inscriptions arc hiero
glyphic in character, and as the rock is
very hard, those that rise übove tho low
water mark can have undergone but very
little change from action of the elements.
Antiquarians who claim to have deci
phered the characters say that they were
made by explorers who reached the New
England coast at least 500 years before
the birth of the famed Genoese navigator.
—[New York Journal.
THE COAST PATROL
LOOKING OUT FOR WRECKS
AND DROWNING SAILORS.
All Along the Atlantic Coast They
Tramp Through Wind and Rain
—How They Save Lives.
From the first of September through
the eight months to come the coast of
New Jersey will be patrolled by the surf
men of the United States Life Saving
Service as faithfully as is Broadway by
the metropolitan poliee. There arc no
hallways for the surf men to stand in nor
back doors of saloons into which they
can slip for shelter. There is nothiug
but sand hills on one side, the waves on
the other, and heavy sand under foot;
but no matter how sharp the rain or sleet
or the blinding snow, the captains of
coast vessels can see the lanterns of the
patrol tossing about in the wind, and
can rest assured that there are men on
shore ready to come to them whenever
they signal for help.
Not only along the Jersey shore, but
almost all along the Atlautic coast the
Life Saving Service lias planted its houses
and marches its men.
The improvement of the service has
been wonderfully rapid, and so little has
been written about it that not one out of
a hundred of those who live in the big
cities or away from the coast has any
idea of the good done and the terrible
risks run by the crews of these stations
and the number of lives they rescue and
the value of the property they save.
If you go down to Seabright on the 11
o'clock Sandy Hook boat and get off at
Galilee Station you can get a very good
idea of how a wrecked vessel i 3 rescued,
and just how her passengers arc taken
safely from the rigging of the sinking
boat to the shore through and over
waves as higli as a two-story house. The
crew of the station of Galilee drill every
Monday and Thursday at two o'clock,
until the cud of this month and
go through the manoeuvres of sav
ing life so realistically that there is al
ways a crowd of summer boarders and
natives to watch them. The least imag
inative mind will delight in the orderly
rush and the rapidity of the drill, and it
takes very little to picture what a real
rescue looks like.
The life saving station at Monmouth
Beach is built of wood and divided up
inside something after the manner of a
fire engine house. The first floor, facing
the sea, is where the life-saving appara
tus, the boats, gun carriages ami mortars
are stored; back of this is the kitchen
where the men eat and sniokc, and over- j
head is the long sleeping room.
The surfmeu take up their residence 1
here on September 1, and remain in quar
ters for eight months. They arc kept as
closo to the station as city firemen are,
and their duties, when in action and
when patrolling the beach, are quite as
sovere and dangerous. The patrol con
sists of two men from each station, one
to follow the beach to the right and the
other to the left. Whenever the stations
arc near enough the patrolmen meet
those of the adjoining houses half
way, so that the beach is
thoroughly covered. When they start
out they receive a certain number of
checks, which they exchange with the
patrolmen whom they meet, so that in
the morning the checks of one station
will all be in the possession of tho next
station on the left or right, and vice
versa. Each patrolman carries a beach
lantern and two or three red nandlights.
As soon as he sees a wreck or vessel in
distress lie burns one of these red lights
both to alarm the station and to give
notice to the wreck that help is near at
hand. This patrol duty is considered
one of the most important features of
the service, and any neglect of duty is
punished with instant dismissal, with no
chance of re-appointment. Inside the
station arc three great factors in saving
life—the ordinary surf boat, the breeches
buoy and the life car.
The surf boat rests on two sets of heav
ily built wheels with broad ties six inches
acros3. When the boat is wanted the
men harness themselves to it by thick
ropes and push and pull it on to the
beach. Tins is what they do at the ex
hibition drills, and it is as exciting as
the sudden exit of a fire engine from its
i fire house. The keeper of the house,
who ranks first in command and who is
: the only officer, calls a halt when the
wheels strike the beach as near the water
! as it is possible for it to go.
I Then the drag-ropes are dropped from
the shoulders of the men and the boat is
lifted by means of two wooden bars from
the wheels and dropped into the sand.
"Takelifebelts 1" shouts the Captain,
and the men scramble into their big
cork jackets. "Take oars 1" is the next
order, and the 14-foot oars rise in the air
simultaneously and drop together into
the rowlocks, with the handles under the
risings at the side. Then the prettiest
part of the show follows as the men run
the boat through the first breakers. The
two bowmen spring in first and the others
stand to their waist in the water, waiting
for the Captain to give the order to shove.
At just the proper moment he shouts and
they drive the big boat out into the
breakers and vault over the sides, whip
out their oars and pull her up over the
first rows of breakers.
| After that they toss the oars, stow
them away, cross them and drop them
! iuto their places again as easily as a
; housemaid handles a broom.
The return is as exciting and as risky
a performance, as the launch and the
! beaching of the boat shows a skill and a
| knowledge of the surf which fills the
: landsman with admiring awe.
j The other drill is the one with the
, beach apparatus, and is even more inter
esting.
The beach wagon is pulled out as the
surf boat is, by the crew themselves, and
us soon as it is in place two men begin
to dig a deep grave in the shape of a
cross in which to bury the sand anchor,
and the keeper and first surfman prepare
the cannon with which they shoot the
life-line to a sinking ship. This line is
fastened to an oblong projectile, which
the captain aims in such a manner as to
shoot it over the vessel, and in sucli a
way as to drop the line across the deck.
At the practice drills the projectile is
aimed at a mast and yard arm sunk in
tho sand 100 yards down tho beach.
Capt. Mulligan can aim as well with his
brass cannon as with his rifle, and can
throw the projectile just iii the angle of
the mast and arm. One of the surfmeu
climbs the mast and pulls in the line over
the yard arm and hauls in the shot line,
then a heavier rope, called the whip line,
then the hawser. He pulls tho breeches
buoy out to the mast by means of the
whip buoy, the buoy moving along the
hawser on the same principle as the tin
baskets which carry change in the big dry
goods stores arc drawn along the wire.
It is made of a big life preserver, from
which hang a pair of canvas trousers, in
to which the wrecked seamen drops.
The other end of the hawser, meanwhile,
lias been fastened to the two stout planks,
called the sand anchor, which are buried
in tlio sand of tho beach and run up over
a high crotch formed between two wood
en uprights. The whip line enables
those on the boat and those on shore to
draw the buoy to and fro, and the
apparatus ha 3 been the means of saving
many lives.
The lifecar works on the same prin
ciple. It is made of tin and is about six
feet long and as round as a small hogs
head. It runs along the hawser as easily
as does the breeches buoy, and as many
as six women and as many children can
be placed in it at once. When the top is
fastened down it is sent spinning over and
through the waves to the land.—[New
York Sun.
RACING FOR LIFE.
A Retriever and an Alligator Swim
Across a River.
"On a hot, sultry day," said the Col
onel, "and within a few miles of Jack
sonville, on a small tributary to the St.
John's River, occurred one of the most
sensational races for life and prey that
have come under my notice.
"A party of gentlemen left Jackson
ville last July on a sporting expedition,
biking with him several valuable, well
trained dogs. The owner of a splendid
retriever shot at and wounded a duck on
the northern bank of the stream, which
was about eighty yards wide. The
wounded duck fell into a jungle on the
opposite side and the dog went after,
but could not lind it. The dog had only
left the further bank on his return, when
suddenly the suout of an alligator rose
above the water. The saurian gave
chase, while the gentlemen called the
dog.
"The animal seemed to realize his
peril and yelped while the alligator
forged ahead. The cries of the party
were continuous, and the dog swam his
best. The alligator did not dip one mo
ment, but kept his eyes fastened upon
the form of the dog. Not an inch seemed
to be gained or lost by either. The race
was matchless. The alligator attempted
occasional spurts, making the water
rush by in a snowy foam, and the dog,
evidently equul to the emergency, would
lay his ears back and speed along with
astonishing swiftness.
The middle of the stream was reached,
and the distance between pursuer and
pursued remained the same. The sports
men began to fear that the dog would
give out before they could get an effec
tive shot at the alligator. Under tho
circumstances they could not fire for fear
of killing the dog; besides, having only
duck shot instead of ball, their chances
of inflicting any damage upon the reptilo
were few.
"The dog swam anxiously, excitedly,
fixing his eyes upon the group of men
and the low shore. Only about thirty
yards more, and if all went well the do<j
would be safe. The alligator changed
his tactics. He would dip his snout
slightly under the water, and in a wrig
gling way would make astonishing
spurts, but did not seem to decrease tho
distance. After each spurt the alligator
seemed to lose a little ground, but very
little. At fifteen yards from the bank
the size of the monster could be estima
ted. He was more than three yards in
length. Every atom of energy was ex
ercised by both. Cries rang out by the
men. The excitement began to iutensify
—the alligator was gaining. The bruto
did not notice the anxious spectators on
the shore. Suddenly a report wa9
heard. It was a shot at the alligator
from a fowling-piece. Heedless of the
noise, the contestants in the race kept
on. Only a few feet and the dog would
be a victim!
"In vaiu did the retriever try to
lengthen the distance, to no purpose.
The alligator was now gaining inch by
inch. The dog was becoming inspired
possibly with too much fear, for he made
several piteous yelping appeals for help.
Seven yards nearer the bauk, seven yards
from the goal of hope and life for the
dog, and still the race was going on with
I grim determination. Every hunter had
I his fowling-piece ready to discharge at
the alligator as soon as he could do it
j safely. The dog touched the sloping,
water-covered bank of the stream, a wild
j cry of delight from the sportsmen and a
J yelp of joy from the dog. he soon was
j bounding on the shore. The determina
tion of the alligator was so great that lie
stranded on the bank, but he rested
there only for a moment. Several
charges of shot were poured into him in
a volley. He turned quickly and, with
a spring, lashed the deeper water and
dived into the depths of the stream."
A Bottle's Long Journey.
Burke Eliott, a youmg man prominent
in social and business circles of Lynch
burg, Va., relates a remarkable story:
"On June 7, 1884, I visited the Natural
Bridge,and was particularly interested in
what is known as 4 Lo.st 1 liver,' but a
more suitable name for it would be
'Never Found River,' for though one can
hear the shock of its waters as they fall
over some subterranean precipice and
even feel the ice-cold spray from them,
if standing close to a small cavity in the
earth, no one has ever caught a glimpse
of the stream.
"As a sort of experiment and more from
idleness than any real belief that I could
accomplish anything, I wrote out on a leaf
of my memorandum book my full address
and a statement of when and how I com
mitted it to the underground river, to
gether with a request that whomsoever
should find it would return it to me,
stating when and where the finding took
place. This I sealed up in a small
pocket flask of thick glass, which I car
ried in my pocket, and dropped into the
hole where the spray from Lost River
rises."
lie said he had nearly forgotten all
about the affair, when one day last May
he received from the city of Lyons,
France, the leaf ho had enclosed in tho
flask and a note from one John Penning
ton, an English resident of that city,
who said that while out sailing in the
Gulf of Lyons lie had found the flask and
contents on February 21, 1890.—[New
York Journal.
The Rarest Metal,
Aluminum is now the rarest metal in
the world, although it is the most useful,
and the earth from which it can be re
duced is found all over tho globe—in
Ohio as well as far-off India. The larg
est piece of aluminum in the world is the
cap of the Washington Monument. This
weighs 100 ounces. A larger piece of the
metal has never been produced. Not
many years ago a Washington chemist
discovered a process for the production
of the metal, lie thought it was perfect,
and found no difficulty in getting #500,-
000 to back him up. A huge plant was
erected in Tennessee and work was com
menced, but no aluminum was produced.
The professor's theory and experiments
were all good enough, but they did not
work upon a large scale. There have
been dozens of like experiences, and
thousands of men are to-day trying to
discover the perfect method that will bo
commercially practical. —[New York
Telegram