OUR EARLY HOPES.
D. BBAINZIID WILLIAMSON.
When eorJ.v hopeß most brightly beam
What, beauty they reveal!
No lovelincee of form they seem
To limit or conceal.
A thousaud roey shapes they tuke,
A thousand smiles they wear,
And to our eyes and hearts they make
Life's tenure loug and fuir.
For to us, then, the future shows
Its Undscape filled with light;
We see no signs of hidden woes
Rise up before the sight;
Calamities do abvnys hide
In sheltered ambuscade,
Whence they, unthought of, undescried.
May fall on hopo betrayed.
What though these hopes that now arise
May fade in ciming days,
If, following them, we ure not wise
To walk in virtue's ways.
All hopes die not—the best wi I live,
The upright heart to cheer,
And better views and comfort give
To every passing year I
A TEXAN ROMANCE.
BY EVELYN RAYMOND.
The epidemic of prosperity which had
visited that portion of the I.one Star
State favored by the protection of the
Nugget Improvement Company had, in a
measure, abated. The receding wave
which had floated hundreds of delighted
voyagers to havens of rest and richness ;
had temporarily stranded upon the shore
of idleness two clerks of the said com
panv.
For the tide of business had ebbed, ;
that afternoon, from the ofiice at El Do- j
rado, and the young men in question j
had no choice left but to await its flow
with what patience they could, j
"Strange," remarked Carlyle, "how]
everything goes in waves. Cold and
heat, crime aud charity, stagnation and j
activity, divorce and matrimony—wish I
was scientist enough to explain the 1
theory."
" You'd need an audience of scientists '
to comprehend you."
McCarthy moved his long legs from
his colleague's desk. Whirling around
in his chair, lie opened a drawer of his
own typewriter cabinet and took out a
letter and a picture.
Carlyle looked at him through the
rings of smoke he was lazily puffing, and
sighed:
"Hang it! Don't you ever tire of
that business?"
"You bet 1 don't!" McCarthy spoke |
apparent truth. Given a half hour of
leisure, the typewritist was certain to
produce the same velvet-framed photo
graph and the last underscored epistle of
the photograph's original. "Ah-h!
don't I wish that I could see her!" He
held the picture at arm's length and sur
veyed it through half-closed eyes.
Carlyle's mustache began to turn up j
at the corners, but his friend's infatua
tion was so sincere that he rarely let his ]
sarcasm go to the length of words.
Slipping so far down in his own chair
that his head rested against its leather
cushioned back, and throwing his own
long legs upon the desk which had just
been relieved of his fellow toiler's, he
observed:
"Speaking of girls—they're a queer !
animal."
McCarthy was deep in the letter. He
vouchsafed an assenting, guttural
"Ugh!" and read on to the end.
"Confound it—you! Talk."
"Be calm, Jack. Is it Shakespeare
who says that 'speech is silver, but silence
is golden'?"
" 'Shakespeare?' Cornelius, did you
ever go to Sunday-school?"
"In the days of my youth—yes."
"You should go again. But—speak
ing of girls "
"You've said that once."
'Til say it twice. Speaking of girls,
I hate your mannish, strong-minded
sort. Do you know the kind I'll fall in
love with?"
"No. Nor you."
"I do. She must be poor—awfully
poor. She must be deucedly pretty, too
—and babyish. Blue eyes, yellow curls,
pink cheeks; timidity, clingingness.
hero-worship—for me, her hero—aud all
that lot. She must know nothing more
of books than their covers, and she
must exist but for—and in—ME."
"Bosh! Better go drown yourself!"
"Thanks. I can't, on account of mv
'beggar maid.'"
"You'll marry a rich girl. Dark, in
dependent, learned. She'll boss you
from the start."
"Never."
"Sure. I've observed that one always
marries the opposite of his ideal. * 1
shall. I said I'd never love a girl who
was fat and had red hair; but Kitty,
here, is as round as a squab, and her
hair is 'auburn.'"
"Epitaph: 'Cornelius McCarthy,
seer. Aged four and-twenty. Died of
wisdom on the brain.' Oh-ugh-a-ah !*'
Jack Carlyle gave vent to one of his
indescribable yawns—a combination of
shriek, steam-whistle, and the dulcet
notes of a burro. He stretched his six
feet odd of length to about ten by rais
ing his tenacle-like arms upward, but
was brought to a sudden collapse by the
landing of an unabriged dictionary in
the pit of his stomach.
The silence which prevailed while the
"confidential clerk" of the N. I. C.
gathered his anatomical fragments to
gether was ominous. It was broken
unexpectedly. A cough and a smoth
ered laugh, both feminine, fell on the
hush with startling distinctness.
"Thunder! there's somebody in the
office," gasped Carlyle and rose. Glow
cring at the typewritist and reserving
that assailant's punislnncut for a more
convenient season, he became at once the
bland, dignified gentleman whom the N.
I. C. had honorc 1 with their trust.
There was somebody in the office. A
very tangible somebody—trim of figure,
dark of eye, alert, aud self-reliant. Her
fuce was grave and quite as dignified as
Carlyle's own; but the shadow of a smile
still lingered around the deep corners of
the prettiest mouth in the world.
"I waut to examine three of the
ranches the Nugget Company have for !
sale. 1 bhc opened a map that she drew
from the natty little satchel at her side,
and spread it on the table bet ween them
"This, and this, and rtvs," s hc Ba id in
dicating each by her dainty fore finger
"One of the three will, 1 think, suit? i
wish to visit them immediately." Then
was not a wasted word, movement, nor
instant of time.
Carlyle felt himself as sharply aroused
from his afternoon drowsiness as if he
had suddenly stepped into Wall street
just before closing hour.
"Well, yes; we have those ranches for
sale. Glad to show them to you to
morrow, but it is now rather late in the
day to start. Any hour you name in the
morning I will have a carriage nl your
disposal."
She gave him a contemptuous survey.
"I was assured by the president of the
firm that the employes would Jo every
thing to facilitate my inspection of the
property. However, I have a carriage at
your command. Are you ready?"
"Ready—certainly. But I must warn
you that it will be dark bofore we get
back to El Dorado."
"Very well." The brisk young wo
man took a sensible silver watch frcm
the waistcoat which was the very coun
terpart of Carlyle's own, and glanced at
its face. "Ten minutes to two. The
horses I have hired are warranted to
travel ten miles an hour. Two—till
seven—we can accomplish fifty miles
and not postpone your dinner-hour very
greatly. The round distance could not
be thirty, so wo shall have two hours
for examination. Is that convincing?"
The unmistakable scorn which em
phasized her inquiry stung Carlyle like a
nettle. Audibly, he said, adopting her
own terse speech: "I'll get my hat."
Mentally : "I'll teach that vixen!" Then
rushed to the inner sanctum for his
white head-gear.
The team sped along at a pace which
promised to verify their owner's word
as to their capabilities, and for the first
distance no one spoke. As they turned
out of El Dorado to the open the girl called
to the driver: "Not that way. North
first, to Sunset Ranch, then the Beausite.
Though I expect the Luckalong will
suit me, I'll look at the others, too."
"How have you learned so much of
the route?" and "Reckon you've ben
| here afore, hain't you, ma'am?" asked
| Carlyle and the driver, simultaneously.
"By study. No!" she answered them
j both in one curt seutence.
I "It's a charming country," volunteered
j Carlyle, determined to make her more
voluble.
j "That is why I came —one reason," she j
! corrected herself, truthfully.
I "Beckon you've lived in some right
I smart of a town by yer looks."
I At first she did not reply; but she was
, evidently more friendly to the man in j
j blue jeans than to his brother iii cheviot. |
I "No; it was not a large town. I've just j
graduated from Woman's College." j
; The expression at the corners of the
beautiful mouth certainly deepened, and !
: the brown eyes accidentally glanced j
Carlyle-ward; but their gravity was |
profound, and the intellectual brow j
j above them appeared so forbidding, that j
j that unhappy mortal daved not, just then,
! attempt the crushing of her spirit upon 1
j which he had so rashly resolved.
"I shall be delighted to give you any !
i information you desire, although you j
1 seem nearly as conversant with our pro
pcrty as I am." There was a delicate
ring of sarcasm under the suavity of the
manager, which a dull ear may have mis- |
| taken for flattery.
Jane Brown's ears were not dull. |
They were like sea-shells in form and ■
. dainty coloring, and like an Indian's for
j clearness, Nor were her bright eyes 1
! blind. With a little sidewise motion of |
, her compact body, she managed to rc-
I move herself a hit farther from her fellow- !
traveler, and to look him squarely in the j
face. There was not a trace of boldness j
in her cool gaze, yet its object found it j
disagreeable. "I regret that I was i
obliged to ask your company, Mr. Car- I
lyle. I did it partly to satisfy my brother,
but mostly for form's sake."
"So I perceive," assented that unfor
tunate, grimly.
At Sunset Ranch they tarried briefly,
and the possible purchaser employed her
time in a peculiar manner. She made
Mullen drive to the various points which
commanded a view of the lands aud
through her glass examined nothing but
the soil, or the herbage which covered it.
"A magnificent outlook!" enthusiasti
cally exclaimed Carlyle, who had the
merit of sincerity in his admiration.
"Yes," assented Miss Brown, with
characteristic brevity. "Drive to Beau
site next." There was some anxiety, and
a trifling disappointment in her tone.
"But, pardon inc, I do not think that
you half comprehend the resources of
this tract. Cannot you give a little more
time "
"No. I have seen all that I wish.
What I seek is net here."
At Beausite it was the same. But
when they rode through the rolling rich- j
ncss of Luckalong, the girl became I
transformed by a wordless eagerness, and <
a silent enthusiasm quite equal to Car
lyle's own. Even then, apparently, her
eye did not catch the contour of the
ground. It was only the green, flower
dotted garment which clothed it. The
doubt which had shadowed her intelli- !
gent face gave way to joyful conviction,
and one little rapturous ejaculation es
caped her. "Exactly what I hoped!"
she cried, and chipped her well-gloved
hands.
An action so womanish both surprised
and pleased her escort. "Feminine,
after all," he thought, and smiled toward
her. 44 You like Luckalong best, I sec." I
"I like it and will buy it. You can |
return to El Dorado, Mr. Mellen."
John Carlyle stared. All his expe-1
riencc had prepared him for no such I
promptness as this. "Perhaps, for your I
own interests, you should examine the j
property more thoroughly. We arc per- j
fcctly convinced of the value of the land '
we sell, but we wish customers to be i
equally so. If, after thinking it well I
over, you still desire to purchase, we will
make the terms as easy "
Jane Brown had allowed this waste of !
lung power as long as she could. Her j
little foot tapped the black-board iin- 1
patiently, and she put up her hand with I
a gesture of annoyance.
"I need no 4 terms,' and no further
examination."
"There are a thousand acres of Luck
along, and the price is fifty dollars per
acre."
He considered this a clincher; for, if
the truth must be told, the careful man- j
ager of the N. I. C. thought he had got
ten hold of an adventuress.
"Yes, of course. I will give you a draft
on the First National Bank of City,
or my check to that amount, whichever
you prefer."
John Carlyle no longer sought to veil
his astonishment. He gasped, and gazed
at the young woman, wide-eyed and
silent. Luther Mellen tumcd his grizzly
head and winked at the manager, touch
ing his own forehead suggestively.
Miss Brown saw the movement and
smiled. From that same little satchel
which had held her map she produced n
letter, addressed to Carlylc's own self in
the well-known hand of the head of the
firm. The contents were brief and con
clusive:
"Honor any check of the bearer, Jane
Matilda Brown, to the Amount of one hun
dred llious ml dol ars, should ahe so des re.
Show her every attention.
"JOSHUA STERMNO."
The date was a fortnight old, but the
document was unmistakably genuine.
I \\ hen the manager was once more do*
j posited at the door of the ofliec of the
j V I. ('. 111! was ill a worse state of col
, lapse than that occusioncil by the assault
| of Noah Webster, for this time it was
| mental.
I "How do you like her?" demanded the
I facetious McCarthy, as his colleague
dropped helplessly into a chair.
I 4 'She—she's bought the Luckalong;
and she's going—to pay cash down—ln
the morning, as soon as the papers are
ready," said Carljle, with an imbecile
: smile. "She bought it—because she liked
; the flowers! Some sickly blue things
that grow there. She can't bo much
i more than tweuty-one, but she must be
t 'cracked.
"Hm-m! I think you consider your
self done for. The firm will be glad to
i throw you in to bind the bargain; and I
would like yonr position. Then I'll go
- for Kitty. Bought it on account of the
! flowers, did she.' I wonder why? You
• bet there was a reason."
1 There was. Being himself engaged to
? a college graduate, the typewritist had
I an appreciation for brainy women, and
I ne knew that no such person as Carlvle
< described would go into a rash specula
tion, however appearances might so indi
cate.
i Nor did she. When her business with
r it was completed the office of the N. J.
' C. knew .lane Matilda Brown no more,
i That is, in person. But tidings of that
\ wonderful young womau reached it from
time to time. First, that, living at the
finest hotel in El Dorado, she was super
intending the erection of a house and
I other buildings at Luckalong, most ad
mirably constructed for comfort and the
needs of the climate. Then that, as
soon as the house was habitable, she had
moved into it with the invalid brothei
for whose sake she had come to Texas.
But the little blue flower? The fame
of that marvelous blossom spread far and
wide, and followed the other rumor.*
into the N. I. C\ office, even as it had
traveled beyond it into the distant city,
where the president of the company
gnashed his teeth in impotent rage.
"Outwitted by a chit of a girl whom I
knew in her cradle!" he groaned.
"Here's for your lassie, that knows the
inside of a book as weli a9 the cover!"
I jeered Cornelius McCarthy, still envious
j of his comrade's salary, and maliciously
! remindful of past weaknesses. "In the ver
nacular of the great Luther: 'Thatair lit
-1 tie blew posy, it 'pears,ne'er blows nowhar
i thct thar hain't a coal deposit; an' bless
!my stars! ef thct sliort-spoke gal didn't
; know it. An' come tcr Texas tei hunt
it! Warn't she sharp? The Luckalong
| was wuth the money she paid for it,
! anyhow; but now the deposit's turned
j out a mine—Jc-ru-sa-lum!"
I That time it was the retailer of gossip
] who was bombarded with the "un
abridged," but he dodged the missile,
1 and the volume crashed the glass of the
l "private entrance."
| "Charge it up, Jacky!) That was plate
and cost "
I "Hold your tongue, will you? You
I can have my place. I've been going to
I tell you for some time, but I just—didn't.
| I'll write my resignation now."
j "Good boy! But, you lazy son of a
I millionaire, you can afford to be kind to
j a McCarthy of Cork. _ Kitty shall write
i you a letter."
"No; I beg. I—l'd rather not, thank
you."
"Don't mention it. I'd rather not,
j also. I need it myself. But—what'll
I you do?"
i "What I have always desired. Supcr-
I intend the working of a coal mine. Oh,
; by the way, I'm a graduate of the School
of Mines, Columbia; and when I told
Jennie we agreed that I'd better begin
to apply my knowledge, practically."
"Jennie?" gasped Cornelius.
"Ics. Jennie, or Tillic, whichever
you like."
"Do you—know—her? Or, rather,
love her? Because, if you don't "
"Yes, I rather love her," interrupted
Jack, drawing forward his paper and
pen.
"Since when?"
"Since she walked iuto this office and
took inc to sec three ranches in one after
noon."
"Jupiter Ammon! Say, did she hear
you yawn that day?"
I Carlyle drew himself up with dignity.
| There are some things too sacred even
I for friendship.
I "Weli, never mind. I see she did. I'm
glad I shan't have to any more. But
what about the blue-eyed 'beggar
| maid'?"
"There isn't a beggar, and but one
fool, in Texas."
I "True for you. Still, take a friend's
advice, old chap, and face the music
j squarely. Now, I adore my Kitty, but—
! she bosses me. Jane Matilda Brown is
■ smarter than you are, and she'll boss
I you. It's fate."
| Maybe it was. That was some time
ago; but the checks which arc sent out
i from the Luckalong homestead are still
! signed "Jane Matilda Brown;" also,
| "Carlyle." The last is merely attached
i by a hyphen.—[Frank Leslie's.
He Kept His Word.
"Competition is the life of trade,"
said a drummer for a Chicago dry-goods
house, "but," added he, "it sometimes
means commercial death to the mer
chants who engage in it too briskly. In
a little town over in Indiana I used to
to sell goods to two merchants who
were pushing each other severely. One
was a (piiet, reserved man, who had very
little to say about his rival, lie didn't
seem to feel very certain of the outcome
of their trade war, and I feared he was
pretty near the wall. The other mer
chant was an enthusiastic optimist, and
smilingly assured me ho was on the
highway to success. Til close my rival's
store or bust,' was his emphatic declara
tion. Well, I was out in his town a few
days ago. Reached there in the night,
and the fust man I met at the hotel office
in the morning was the enthusiastic mer
chant. 4 How's business?' I asked. 4 I
weut out of business yesterday,' he re
plied. 4 And is your rival still pegging
away?' 4 Yes.' 'Why, I understood you
to say you would close his store or bust.'
4 I did say so,' said he, 4 and I've kept my
word. I've busted.' " —[Chicago Herald.
Biting; Olf Noses.
A missionary, writing of the degraded
condition of the people of the Gilbert
Islands, iu the South Pacific, says:
44 The further you go north in the
Gilbert Islands the less you sec of the
horrid scars which on Tapitouca disfig
ure, or, as they think, distinguish, all the
male sex. But at the same time as you
go north, there seems a greater intent to
kill than at the south, where the inten
tion seems to be rather to lacerate and
make the most horrid wounds, those
which will produce the greatest amount
lof misery. One singular propensity of
An excited Gilbert Islander is to bite oil
I noses. This accounts for the great num
i her of noseless persons one meets. A
j few years ago one of them, in his wrath,
climbed up and bit oil the nose from the
figure-head of the Morning Star. It has
since been replaced with one of lead."
APPROPRIATE NOMENCLATURE.
Binks— A good name for a journal
would be The Pencil.
.links—Because it would have some
I point to it?
I Binks—-No. Because every one would
j take it.
| .links—Or borrow it.—[American Sta
! tioner.
THE JOKER'S BUDGET.
JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY
MEN OF THE PRESS.
The Informers' Reward A Cool
Location—A Breach of Promise —
Reciprocity, &c., Ac.
THE INFORMERS' REWARD.
Schoolmaster (turning round sharply)
—Which of you is it that is daring to
make faces at me?
Six Youngsters (in chorus) —Freddy
Brown, sir.
Schoolmaster—Ah! Then you six
boys stand out and be caned. If you
saw Freddy Brown making faces it
shows that you were not attending to
your lessons.—[Pick Mc l"p.
A COOII LOCATION.
Parlor Car Passenger—Porter, this car
is very draughty. 1 feel chilly.
Porter—Can't help it, sir. There's a
party of the New York's Four Hundred
in one cud and a lot of Philadelphia ex
clusives in the other, and you're sittin'
right between 'em.—[New York Weekly.
A BREACH OF PROMISE,
lie sued for her hand—did the dude—
In a moineut exceedingly rash;
And he in turn is being sued,
And she's after ten thousand in cash.
ACCEPTINO THE COMPLIMENT.
"Your rich aunt lias a grand air about
her."
"Yep. I'm the heir."
RECIPROCITY.
Scrawlcy—Dreadful bore that fellow,
Pennibs. Do you know that he kept mc
011 a street corner for half an hour this
cold morning talking about his new play
which he has just finished?
Scribblerus—And how did you finally
get rid of him?
Scrawlcy—l began to tell hiui about
my new poem, and he left at once. —
[America
THE MEAGRE DIET MADE lIIM THIN.
Borrowit —That's rather a swell board
ing-house you are stoppiug at, Gazzleton,
Gazzleton—Why, yes. I tried a cheap
er one, but I couldn't afford it. I fell
away so that I had to buy a new suit in
six weeks.—[Harper's Bazar.
INDIAN TROUBLES.
General Killem (regular army)— What's
become of all those hostile Indians who
were expected to make an attack here?
Mr. Starvem (Indian Agent)—l—l gave
'cm something to eat, and they went off.
—[New York Weekly.
LIMITATIONS OF GENIUS.
Book Publisher—l have looked over
the manuscript which you submitted to
us, and find a good plot, many well
drawn characters, and some picturesque
word-painting; but the love-scenes are
cold and stilted. Can't you improve on
them?
Authoress (wearily)—l am afraid not.
I'm married.—New York Weekly.
HORRIBLE EXPOSURE.
"What's the matter, Chappie, you
look all broke up?"
"I am, Chollie, deali boy. I've a
dweadful cold. Miss Budde would use
her fan at the cotillion lahst night, and I
got it all, don't you kuow, wight on my
chest."
THE REJECTED LOVER.
He proposed, she said no, and he pon
dered upon it.
And his brow grew as black as a
hearso,
And as be departed lie called her a
sonnet,
Because she to him was averse.—[Cape
Cod Item.
NOT THE BIGHT SORT.
Applicant—l sec you advertise for a
college graduate to take a position in
your business.
Publisher —Yes. Arc you a graduate?
"I am."
"What place did you hold in the col
lege eleven?"
"I did not play football. I was afraid
of getting crippled."
"Vou won't do. I want a man for
book agent."—[New York Weekly.
HOW SHE WAS CURED.
Mamie.—Oh, George, I feel so faint!
What is good for fainting-spclls, George?
George (excitedly)— Now you've got
mel
Mamie—Oh, I am so glad to hear you
say so, dear George! I feel better al
ready.—[Puck.
DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS SO RAD.
Biggs—lsn't it sad that poor Higgs has
lost his mind?
Diggs Awfully! He was absent
minded the last time I met him, but 1
didn't faucy it would be chrouic.—
[Brooklyn Eagle.
YOUTH AND AGE.
Ambitious youth—Don't you wish you
were Fiuemiud, the great author?
Practical Father—Not much I don't.
But I'd like to be his publisher,—[New
York Weekly.
INVBBT IN PLOUGHSHARES.
"They tell me a man can make money
iu Wall street," said a farmer to a broker,
receutly. "What shares would you ad
vise me to invest in?"
"I)o you own farm property?" replied
the broker, who had been pinched in the
money panic.
"Yes, I own free and clear, 20,000
acres of the best farm land in lowa,"
auswered the agriculturist.
"Well, then, take a friend's advice,"
said the Wall street man. "Invest in
ploughshares."
TOO MUCH IRON.
Doctor —Did you get that mixture of
wine and iron that I ordered?
Deacon Waters—Yes; it was first-rate.
Never enjoyed a bottle of medicine bet
ter iu my life. Drank it up without
takin' breath. But, doctor, there was
too much iron in it.
Doctor—Humph! So I should imagin'.
Deacon Waters -Y'es, the iron went to
my feet and innde 'em so heavy I could
hardly walk.—[New York Weekly.
A THEORY.
"Why does a man always grow loqua
cious when he's drunk?"
"The spirit moves him to speak."
THE GROWTH OF A RUMOR.
Barkins—Sraithers is lazy. He is in
dustrious by fits and starts.
llarkins—Smithers has fits and starts
of industry only—that's what Barkins
says.
Lark ins—Hark ins tells me that Bar
kins told him that Smithcrs lias fits.
TOTALLY UNLIKE HIM.
"It was a beautiful day when I had
my portrait taken," said old Gen. Grow
„lcr. "I don't see why we didn't get a
likeness."
"Y'ou must have obeyed the photo
giapher and looked pleasant," returned
Mrs. Q.
THE INDIAN.
Stranger (in Western town) —I hold
that the Indian has more good qualities
than the white man has ever given hiin
credit for.
Native—You're froiu the East, ain't ye,
Mister?
Stranger—Yes.
Native —I thought so.
HIS WINTER METHOD.
Hunting—Young Hunker is a regular
ladykiller.
Lark in—Ah! How does he despatch
his victims?
Hunting—Just now he sleighs them.
A HORRIBLE POSSIBILITY.
Ticks—Well, old man, you're looking
pretty blue; what's the matter?
Wickles—Well, I've just asked old
Goldbags for his daughter.
Ticks—And the old idiot said no?
Wickles—On the contrary, he said yes
so quick that I'm afraid he can't be worth
a quarter as much as ]>eoplc think.
MAKING A YOUNG WOMAN HAPPY.
Lizette—What is the color of my eyes,
Henry?
Henry—l am sure I don't know.
Lizette (pouting)— And yet you say
you love me?
Henry—l do. I cannot tell the color
of your eyes because they are so bright
they blind me. —[Harper's Bazar.
THE DETECTIVE'S SORROW.
"What are the findings in the case?"
inquired a detective of the attorney in a
burglary decision.
"Mighty little that you had to do
with," was the cruel reply, and the de
tective went out to seek comfort, if pos
sibly he might find it.—[Washington
Star.
OVERLOADED.
Boy—Say, mister, shall I carry yer
satchel? Do it fer a dime.
Dude—My satchel is not heavy.
Hoy—Well, let me carry your cane
then.—[Good News
AT THE MATRIMONIAL OFFICE.
"I am not quite satisfied with the bus
iness you have done for me, after all.
I married the rich wife that you found
me. but the trouble is she does not give
me any of her money."
"How could you have done better?
You have secured not only a rich, but a
discree, wife."—[Fliegenae Blatter.
A RAD IIARIT.
" I was dressing Gustavo this morning
when he struck me in the face," com
plained the maid.
"With which hand?" asked the
mother, agitatedly.
" With the left."
"It does beat all; will that boy never
leave off his awkward habit of using his
left hand."—[Philadelphia Times.
A NEAT WAY OF PUTTING IT.
"Bronson calls his wife a perfect
poem. I think she's a termagant."
"Well, that's what Bronson means
She is not easily composed."
PLENTY OK PRACTICE.
Small Hoy—Pop wants to know if
you'd like to buy some layin' hens?
liural Housekeeper—Are they good
layers?
Yes, indeed. They know all about
layin'. They been layin' for years an'
years.—[Good News.
UN PARDON ARI.E.
"I like Smithcrs, even if he isn't much
socially. He has one miserable, bad
habit though."
"What's that?"
"He iusists ou recognizing me in
public."
HOPE FOR HIM.
They said he was a man of ice,
Who no good feeling ever felt;
And yet he'd seem to be n nice
And easy sort of man to melt.
RED AND BLUE.
In the Stationery Store—First Young
Lady—Do you always buy two kinds of
paper?
Second Young Lady—Always. You
sic when I write to Charlie I use red pa
per; that means love. When I answer
Jim's letters I use blue paper, which
means "faithful unto death. See?—[Tex
as Sittings.
THE RULING PASSION.
Bobber (to bank teller) —I'm Bloody
Jim th' Hip Hoarin' Snorter of the Hock
ies. Hand over that there cash.
Bank Teller (mechanically—l have no
doubt personally, sir, that you are Bloody
i Jim the Hip Roaring Snorter of the
Rockies; but, sir, you will have to get
somebody to identify you.—[Good
News.
Peter the Great Sots a Fashion.
Peter the Great adopted a rather novel
means to convince his subjects that tlicy
must change their clothes to conform
with the modern costumes of Western
Europe. Believing, as is well known
historically, that the future greatness of
Russia depended upon the facility with
which it was made to assimilate all that
was best in other countries, he had suc
ceeded in introducing some innovations
into the half civilized legion over which
he held sway. At length lie had pat
terns of cloth hung up at the gates of the
towns, and those who did not conform
to the fashions thus set were docked pub
licly. Albeit, this was done in as
pleasant a manner as possible, for Peter
believed in being good-natured with his
people.
They, on the other hand, loudly de
murred and used the argument, that
what was good enough for their fore
fathers was good enough for them.
"Very well," said the sagacious Peter.
In 17011 he gave a dinner at Moscow to
celebrate the marriage of one of his
jesters, and insisted that it should be
conducted in strict conformity with
ancient usage. There had formally been
a superstitious custom of not lighting a
tire on a wedding. So Peter made them
do without a tire, although it was colder
than Greenland. He wouldn't give
them any wine because their forefathers
never drank it. When they remonstrat
ed, he reminded them that it was a poor
rule which did not work all around, and
thus, by his good-natured greatness,
wheedled his people into new coats—
about the hardest thing that can be done
with humanity.—[Philadelphia Press.
A Little Girl's Pet Deer.
At Mehama, Oregon, a few days ngc
when George Terrell's little daughter
went to the pasture to drive up the cows
she found a pretty two year-old deer
feeding with them. She drove the cows
to the barnyard, and the deer ran along
as "sportivo as a calf on a June morn
ing." When the cows were nil secure in
the barn the deer was caught with but
little trouble and is readily submitting
to domestication.—[Boston Transcript.
- LIFE IN LIMA.
SOCIAL CUSTOMS IN THE PERU
VIAN CAPITAL.
Evidences of the War with Chili-
Social Restrictions Peruvian
Cookery—A Wonderful Mixture.
Iu Lima, writes Fannie B. Ward in the
Washington Star, the splendid trees of
the parks and boulevards, even those of
the botanical gardens, weie chopped
down for fuel by the Chilian soldiers.
The entire museum of Peruvian curiosi
ties—one of the largest of its kind in the
world—was packed up and shipped to
Santiago. The most valuable books of
the national library, including a vast
collection of old manuscripts, inquisition
relics and other priceless relics were
thrown into sacks and sent after the
museum. Musical instruments were
hacked in pieces by swords and axes,
historical paintings cut from their frames
and many smaller pictures, statues and
articles of virtu were carried off as
private plunder. Peru's greatest paint
ing, Marini's "Burial of Atahualpa, the
last of the Incas," was stolen from the
wall where it hung, but the protests of
the diplomatic corps finally induced the
Chilians to leave it. Churches as well as
private houses were stripped, and what
could not be destroyed or carried away
was consumed by fire, the purpose of the
invaders b:ing to deprive the Peruvians
of everything they prized.
But despite the present poverty of the
old capital, evidences of the refined taste
of its people in music and art arc every
where apparent. Its aristocratic circles
are extremely exclusive and their social
laws are very rigid. However rich or
respectable a foreign resident may be, he
finds it difficult to obtain any sort of
social standing among this highest "set,"
but if he comes for a temporary stay
with good letters of introduction lie will
be received with cordial hospitality and
will be well entertained. This is espec
ially true in regard to English and Amer
ican officers who are in great demand at
balls, dinners, &c., whenever their ships
are in ilie harbor, for here, as elsewhere,
the ladies have an especial liking for
gold lace and brass buttons.
Since that terrible war there have been
few public balls and receptions, and for
the same reason, poverty, there is not
nearly so much display in dress and
jewels as formerly. However, the glitter
of "gaud and gear" is still dazzling on
first nights at the opera and on other
fiesta occasions, for the ladies of the
preseut generation inherited many splen
did gems for their fair ancestresses,
bought in the golden days of Peru when
money was poured out like water. From
the same source descended the priceless
lace and the rich, old-fashioned fabrics
one sees so much of iu Limaian "best
society," which makes a nineteenth cen
tury senorita look as if she had just
stepped down and out of society.
Those ancient social restrictions which
make it a breach of decorum for a lady
to see a gentleman alone for one mo
ment until after marriage still prevail in
Peru among the upper classes, and the
numerous petty conventionalities are as
strongly marked as is the entire absence
of all conventionality among the lower
orders. For example: a gentleman has
had repeated invitations to call upon a
certain family, aud some fine day he
goes. In every case he must ask for the
gentleman of the house; or, if he is not
at home, the poiut may be stretched to
the extent of asking for the elder brother,
should there be a grown-up young man
in the family. If it happens that both
are absent the visitor must depart at
once, leaving his card for the master of
the casa and his verbal compliments for
the ladies, but on no account must he
ask to see the latter. If the father or
brother arc at home they will welcome
the caller most hospitably. One by one
the female members of the family will
all drop in; some music, on harp, piano
or mandolin, will be beautifully ren
dered by the senoritas, who, coquettish
by nature and eager to entertain and be
entertained, will "make eyes" at the
caller if be has the faintest approach to
attractiveness about him; tea or choco
late with dulcies will be served, and a
most charming hour or two may be
spent.
Peruvian cookery is an incongruous
mixture of foreign and native stylos, the
latter predominating at private meals,
the former at all ceremonious repasts. A
dinner-table custom, which was once
common aud is not yet entirely done
away with, even in proud Lima, is called
the bocadita, and is rather a comical if
not always entirely acceptable demon
stration of friendship or something
wanner. It consists in selecting a choice
morsel from your own plate and handing
it on your fork to some lady present,
who, in her turn, is privileged to not
only pay back the delicate compliment,
but to intensify it by taking a tid bit
from her own plate, without the aid of a
knife or fork, and presenting it to the
gentleman who has made the challenge,
he leaning over the tabic and receiving it
in his mouth from her fingers. It used
to be customary in Peru, on all occasions
of formality, for the host and hostess to
cat by themselves, immediately before
the banquet, aud then during the pro
gress of the ceremonious repast to take
nothing whatever, though sitting one at
each end of the table, being supposed in
that way to give their undivided atten
tion to the guests.
Mr. Knox, in his "Boy Travelers,"
makes Frank say in a letter to his
mother: "We cannot say much for the
cookery of Lima, if we are to judge by
what we have seen. One article that
may le called a national dish of Peru is
known as puchero. I have obtained the
receipt for you, and here it is: Have a
kettle according to your puchero; put
into it a large piece of beef or mutton,
some cabbage, sweet pototoes salt pork,
pig's feet, yueas, bananas, ouinoes, Irish
potatoes, pears, pease ana rice, with
spices, salt and plenty of red peppers;
add sufficient water and stew the whole
gently four or five hours; then serve on
a deep platter. Puchero is patterned
somewhat after the olla podrida of Spain,
the chowder of New England, and the
bouillabaisse of southern France, but
contains more ingredients and more
flavors than all of them put tugethcr. I
cannot say that I dislike it, but could
get along with it a great deal better if
they would put in less red pepper.
"Another stew, simpler than puchero,
is called chupe, a favorite breakfast dish,
but not often served at dinner. The
lower classes are fond of the hottest
picantcs, compounded of meat, fish,
crabs, meal, potatoes, bananas and red
peppers, mixed with the juice of bitter
oranges and stewed in water. "We have
tasted this wonderful mixture, but could
not get to a second spoonful in conse
quence of the fiery nature of the | eppcrs.
Fred says they use a pound of peppers
to a pound of all the other ingredients,
water included. Swallowing a torch
light procession would be preferable to a
dinner of picantcs. Around the landing
place at Callno we saw women with little
braziers of charcoal ladling out steamed
picautcs to the laborers and idlers of the
port, and were told that it is their only
article of food. In the poorer parts of
Limn there is a picauteria every few
yards and each establishment has its pa
trons among workmen employed in the
vicinity." There are many varieties of
picantes, each having a distinct name;
but every ouo of them is red hot with
peppers.
ORIGIN OF THE DOG.
Believed to Have Descended From
Several Kinds of Wild Animals.
Although the recent discussion of the
origin of the dog cannot be said to have
settled the long controverted question,
there seems to be a decided drift of opin
ion among naturalists to the theory that
our numerous varieties of domesticated
dogs are descended not from a single
species, but from several kinds of wild
animals, as, for instance, the wolf and
the jackal. There are recorded example*
of tamed wolves, which in gentleness,
love for their masters and intelligence
showed a truly dog-like capacity. With
regard to tamed jackals, Darwin has
pointed out that, when caressed, they
jump about for joy. wag their tails,
lower their ears, lick their master's hands,
crouch down, and even throw themselves
on the grouud, belly upward. When
frightened, they carry their tails be
tween their legs.
On the other hand, it is undispuptc
that, whatever animal wo may cousiucr
his progenitor, the domestication of the
dog began at an epoch exceedingly re
mote. The fossil remains of a large dog
have been found in tertiary deposits, and
there is no doubt that the dog existed in
a domesticated state during prehistoric
times. Ills bones are discovered in the
shell-heaps of Denmark and in the lake
dwellings of Switzerland. The dog meets
us in the dawn of history, for such var
ieties as the hound.greyhound and watch
dog are depicted on Egyptian monu
ments five thousand years old. It is
well known that in Egypt the dog was
worshiped under the title of Anubis, and
dog-mummiei have been found. There
is a mastiff figured ou an Assyrian sculp
ture belonging to 040 B. C. The fact is
often overlooked that dogs were uied by
| the Greeks and Romans not only in the
( chase and for hunting down escaped
prisoners, but for war, being armed for
j that purpose not only with spiked collars,
but with a coat of mail. It is said that
! Corinth was on one occasion saved by
; fifty war dogs, which foiled a night at
tack of the enemy, fighting until all were
killed but one, which succeeded in arous
ing the garrison.
It is worth noting that, according to
some naturalists, the Newfoundland and
i St. Bernard dogs form a group by them
i selves, derived neither from wolves nor
( jackals, but from a distinct species of
j progenitors. It is a disputed question
i whether the Newfoundland dog is indi
' genous to North America, or was iutro-
I Uuced either by the Norwegians iu the
I year 1000 or by Cabot iu 1407. Bearing
on this question is the interesting fact
that the Norwegians have dogs closely
resembling the Newfoundland breed.
) The Dingo dog, of Australia, does cer
tainly seem to constitute a distinct, indi
-1 genous species, since it is now found in
boili a wild and a domesticated state in
that country, and its fossil remains are
associated with those of extinct mam
mals.—[New York Ledger.
A Skull of Iron.
A human skull of iron! Not one made
by artifice, remember, but so constructed
by nature. What could be more won
derful? asks the Washington Star.
An anthropological expert showed the
specimen at the Smithsonian, though it
lias not been placed on exhibition. The
skull, which was once upon a time like
any other skull, is imbedded in a mats of
iron ore. Nature originally inclosed it
in that way by an accident, and gradu
ally, in the course centuries, particles of
the metal took the places of particles of
bone, until at length the skull was no
longer bone, but iron. Its structure in
the iron is perfect iu every detail, save
that the top of the head and the lower
jaw arc missing.
When it is considered how many thou
sands of years must have been required to
produce such a curiosity some faint
notion is conveyed of the antiquity of
man. Near oy is n big piece of solid
limestone rock, incasing as if a portion
of itself, the upper part of a human
skeleton! In the surface of the stone,
imbedded, is visible the bnckone of a
man—perhaps a woman —so that one can
see a distinct vertebrae, while on either
side of the spinal column are revealed
the ribs. What ages must have passed
before the processes by which this osse
ous relic of a bygone epoch was thus en
closed had time to accomplish such a
work*
Big and Little Man.
A man about eight feet high stood on
the steps of the Wayne Uotel the other
afternoon, and patrolman George Cook,
on duty at the depot, walked across the
street to look him over. The ueorer the
officer came to the giant the greater was
the contrast, and looking straight up
into the fellow's face Cook asked:
"Well, you're a tall one and no mis
take. How tall arc you, anyway?"
"I've answered that question till I'm
sick of it," said the tall man, as he
turned about.
"Well, you needn't get cranky about
it," said Cook, and added: "Somesmall
sized men are just as good as some big
ones."
"Little men ought to know enough to
mind their own business," said the giant,
facing about.
"Big men ought to be gentlemen, and
a man never gets so big but what he can
be taught something. There's no string
tied to that; it goes."
For a moment the two glared at each
other. Then the giant shrugged his
shoulders, crossed the street aud entered
the Griffin House. The officer followed,
and was somewhat taken aback when he
learned from the clerk that the big man
was Barnuin's giant.—[Detroit Free
Press.
An Odd Child of Literature.
Emily Dickinson, who lias recently
died, and whose verses have just been
published, was one of the oddest chil
dren of literature who has lived since
Thoreau. She lived in an interior Mas
sachusetts town. She was a perpetual
invalid, aud a woman of abnormally re
tiring disposition. She was far inore
shy than Hawthorne. She very seldom
went beyond her garden fence; never
visited her neighbors, and if her friends
came to see her she would sit with her
back to them and talk. She was super
sensitive!}' bashful. Her poetry, in spite
of its great defects, is full of thought
that sticks to the memory. Her rhymes
were as faulty as those of Emerson; but
her thoughts were almost as profound.
She might have done much more if she
had been in touch with the world about
her.—[Yankee Blade.