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Keep the figures in advance of the present date,
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tor made in the manner provided by law.
Commissioner Coombs thinks that
the Salvation Army may be the agents
for distribution of meat grown in
Queensland all over England, as it is
used largely in army depots.
Nicholas 11. is gaining great pop
ularity in Russia for his democratic
ways, the New York Press facetiously
observes. Ho has been known to
drink a cup of c iffee after it had been
examined by only three expert chem
ists.
If any one believes that the interest
In the horse is to give place before the
inroads of electricity, let him attend
some great "horse convention," sug
gests the Farm, Field and Fireside,
and note the attention paid the splen
did specimens of endurance and intel
ligence there on exhibition.
There are 50,009 more women than
men in the State of New York. The
universal law governing sneh matters
makes the female population of a long
settled country or district higher
than that of one newly settled or
partly developed, and so in the New
England States the number of women
is in excess of the number of men,
while in the Western and Pacific
States this is reversed.
The large majority of contempor
ary authors of international fame aro
small men physically. Kipling, Bar
rio, Jerome, Howells, Stockton, Sted
man, Mark Twain, Bret Harte, Boye
sen, Saltus, aro none of them above
medium height, and several of them
are actually diminutive. Marion
Crawford and Conan Doyle aro tall,
athletic-looking men, but they are tho
exceptions that prove the rule.
What is practically the American
dollar is in a fair way to bo tho unit
of currency for the world, maintains
tho Sew York Independent. It rules
this whole continent, nud the Mexican
dollar is the most popular coin in tho
East, and the Japanese yen is very
nearly the same thimr. Now the Bom
bay mint is beginning to issue what
has been called the British dollar,
which will have the support of banks
and of British and Indian merchants
from Bombay to Singapore and Japan.
The Atlanta Constitution remarks:
When we read that the late Count do
Leßsepe was ten years old when tho
battle of Waterloo was fought, and
that he saw both Napoleon and Wel
lington after that event, the great
Corsican seems to be brought within
sight of the men of our own times.
The fact is, many persons now living
might have seen him. Dozens of peo
ple in Atlanta were half-grown at tho
time of the battle of Waterloo, and
one lady now living here remembers
seeing Napoleon when she was a littlo
child.
About fourteen per cent, of the en
tire number of medical graduates
drop out of the profession within a
few years, avers the Chicago Herald.
Home few never practice; others are
tempted by better inducements into
other fields of work; some are driven
to suicide on account of failure; oth
ers succumb to contagious diseases;
still more lose their health on account
of exposure to inclement weather and
accident, or on account of mental
anxiety. Among these we must in
clude those who become insane or
who contract the alcohol, morphine
or cocaine habit. Worse than all
else, a few are driven into quackery.
Any one may make a mistake in the
choice of life work, and it is no dis
credit to abandon practice. There are
plenty of honorable employments foi
unsuccessful physicians; there are
schools to toach, merchandise to sell,
drugs to dispense, news to gather; at
any rate there is coal to shovel and
wood to saw. It doubtless seems a
pity to sacrifice the investment of
three or four years' hard work in the
study of medicine, but it is cheaper
than to sacrifice honor and prostitute
medical science to uuackery.
HOW SHALL I LOVE YOU?
How shall I love you? I dream all day,
Dear! of a tenderer, sweeter way ;
Songs that I sing to you—words that I say;
Prayers that are voiceless on lip 3 that would
pray—
These cannot toll of the love of my life;
! How shall I love you—my sweetheart, my
wife?
How shall I love you? Love is the bread
Of life to a woman—the white and the red
Of all the world's roses ; the light that is
shed
On all the world's pathways, till light shall
bo dead!
The star in the storm and the strength in
the strife:
I How shall I love you—my sweetheart, my
wile?
I Is there a burden your boart must bear?
| I shall kneel lowly and lilt it, dear!
i Is there a thorn in the crown that you wear?
j Let it hide in my heart till a rose blossora9
there!
For grief or for glory—for death or for life,
So shall I love you—my sweetheart, my wife!
—F. L. Stanton, in Indies' Home Journal.
JACK'S SURRENDER,
a I It is absolute-
I useless! We
ill I d ftß W
yßwh My mother
j held her hands
I - //!, towards the
A.flPv IjVvV I ,ire —I' l u m P
little hauds
covered with
rin 8 s ' t ' le ,ftst
-f*' her sixty
years.
"Jack," she replied, sternly, "yon
are as headstrong as your father used
to he. "When ho was of your age he
would not listen to a word about mar
riage. Poor man ! He much preferred
his famous Bachelors' Club, and swore
to remain faithful to its laws. But,
mark my words, before you know it,
you, too, will be walking up to the al
tar, my friend. 'Ou lo pero a passe
pesseru bien l'enfaut!' (The son fol
lows in tho footsteps of his father) —
Alfred do Mnssct tells us."
"Oh, that's all very well," I cry,
"but in my father's youth the girls
wero not lull of uotions like these of
to-day ; they were modestly educated
young girls, the extent of their am
bition being to read a sonata, write a
correct note, and make a fairly grace
ful courtesy. But now—"
"Well, Jack, you aro not compli
mentary, to say the least," interrupted
my mother. "It is your opinion,
then, that the girls of my day wero
little more than simpletons?"
"I beg your pardon, mother, doar !
But even you must admit that form
erly the education of yonng girls was
much less pretentious, and I think
more consistent, than that of our lit
tle blue-stockings; for when they left
boarding-school they had only enough
instruction to enable them to under
stand the pages of a romance or fol
low a conversation ; not enough to hu
miliate their mothers, and not infre
quently their husbands as well. From
their infancy they wore prepared to
All the roles of wives and mothers,
and the happy husband could sleep
contentedly every night in the assur
ances that the 'angel of the fireside'
would superintend the desserts and
darn his socks conscientiously."
Mamma started impatiently from
her chair.
"Jack, it seems strange that a wo
man of the old school should bo
obliged to combat your prejudices.
But I assure you, my dear, that in my
time the majority of those -angels of
the fireside,' whose praises you slug so
loudly, were very shallow girls. What
girl of spirit would be contented with
the secondary role that you men would
like to impose upon her? No.no! It
is not the learning of your wife which
frightens you, young men ; it is your
own ignorance. Oh, it is nothing
more nor less than self-conceit! If
you had not been alHicted with lazi
ness while in college you would fear
comparisons less 1"
"Oh! oh! mother you're too bad!"
"You maintain, then, that Latin,
Greek—a college education, in short
—is incompatible with modesty,
grace, sweetness and the domestic
qualities of a woman?"
"I do maintain it most emphati
cally."
"Very well. Go to Mme. Desjar
dins's with me this evening. There
shall be no more talk of marriage. It
is simply an unceremonious call. You
will see the twins, and can judge for
yourself, my son, since you have so
slight a regard for my experience.
You understand that you are free to
do exactly as you like. In fact, you
need come to me for no information
or advice on the subject. Go and
dress, my son."
Marry a baccalaureate! Heavens!
when I heard my mother's wish I felt
a shiver run down my back. Look
here, mamma, you may as well be
honest and say outright that you are
planning my death, and by what
means! Why not throw me overboard
and done with it?
The absurdity of proposing a B. A.
tome? Tome! a man thirty years of
age—a man of sense, I can honestly
say—who would only eutor tho road
to Hymen with the caution of a Siotix
Indian! Alas! cruel mother, what
have I done to you ? Have I not for
love of you heard La Dame Blanche
eight times ?
From the bottom of my heart I
cursed Vichy and its waters. Vichy
with its shady walks, Vichy and its
promenade concerts, whero mothers in
quest of sons-in-laws meet mothers in
quest of daughters-in-law. Was it not
there under the shudesof the park that
Mme. Desjardins and my mother met
after years of separation? Was it not
there that they formed the first con
spiracy against the security of my
bachelorhood?.
Here we are at Mme. Dcsjardins!
•'My dear friend, let me present my
son."
"Little Jack!"
I am annoyed by this exclamation. T
feel that my appearance in the draw
room is made ridiculous. This good lady
in green satin know me as a boy,in the
golden days of black marks and whip
pings. It is very delightful, I am sure,
and I ought to be charmed ; but thirty
unknown faces stare curiously at this
"little Jack," with a respectable mus
tache, whom Mme. Desjardins finds
"much changed." Great Scott! I
should hope so, in fifteen years! Con
found her reminiscences of childhood!
She might as well talk of my first kilts
or inquire if I have brought my hoop.
Fortunately Mme. Desjardins adds
a few words of gracious welcome
which restore my breath, and mother
turns to introduce me to the young
ladies.
The Misses Desjardins are twins, a
bloudo and a brunette. They are of
the same stature, and dress alike even
to ribbons ; but here the resemblance
ceases.
Miss Martha, the brunette, is a
beautiful woman—too beautiful, for
simple mortals. A Greek goddess! a
Pallas Athene ! Her features are pure
and cold; her rich black hair forms a
royal diadem about her head. Rose
is loss of a woman, less imposiug.
A real Greuze, this young girl!—
bewitchingly pretty, with her little
Parisian nose, her dimpled cheeks,
and fair hair which looks as if pow
dered with gold. What a smile!
What a voice—so sweet, so sweet! A
veritable child, whom ono might still
suspect of playing with her dolls when
no one is by, in spito of her nineteen
years—and a child who surely is no I
Bachelor of Arts.
Mamma hail never mentioned the
name of the learned Miss Desjurdins,
but who could dream of insulting this
exquisite Miss Hose by even a sus
picion?
The other is the baccalaureate. I
am suro of it. Could she have ap
peared, draped like a statue in the
salons of the First Empire, she would
have struck wonder to all hearts! Her
rich voice, a vibrating contralto, must
show to advantage iu scanning hexa
meters. I can appreciate her taste.
Great Scott 1 Greek must be becoming
to this classic beauty. What a thrill
of admiration would run through an
audience as she murmured in the orig
inal : "The Plaints of Tpalgenia!"
A little informal dancing is pro
posed. I offered my nrai to the little
Greuze. So much the worse for the
Grecian goddess, the Pallas Athene.
Between two waltzes I had an oppor
tunity to talk with my charming little
partner, who glides about like a fairy
in a cloud of blue gauze, a fan of
pigeon leathers beats against her deli
cate breast, like the wing of a dove.
In a quarter of an hour I feel that I
am competent to judge of Miss Hose.
She is bright, but I take care to keep
tho conversation on simple topics. She
would find it difficult to display much
learning! She is a good little girl,
very acute, rather roguish, but simple,
frank and unassuming. She loves
music, can sketch cleverly, and last
year, while visiting her aunt iu the
country, she had a delightful time
making preserves. Dear little Greuze !
What delicious preserves yours must
be ! and what an adorable little house
wife you must make, in a large white
apron, your sleeves rolled up to show
the dimples in your elbows!
Look ! you oau see them now, just
above your gloves. What a sweet
picture 1 Surely, I have found tho
dream of my life—a dear, rosy, in
genious little wife, who makes pre
serves ! ".lack, dearie, taste my
jelly." How these words go to a
man's heart! What baccalaureate
would ever condescend to call mo
"dearie?" She would never make mo
preserves.
Thus I rush into it. I divulge ray
theories upon the education and
destiny of woman. Wife and mother
—the Angel of the Firesids, no more,
no less. Slyly 1 send a few arrows
flying against the pedestal of tho
Grecian goddess, the Dallas Athene,
and I praise with rare tact, I flatter
myself, the art of housekeeping, which
I am sure Miss Hose understands to
perfection. But I immediately re
pent. She blushes with modesty,
poor child! Perhaps, too, sho is a
little hurt to see her sister's bagage
classiijue so little appreciated.
Quick, I must repair my blunder. I
will ask Pallas Athene for a quadrille.
"Well, Jack," said mamma, when
comfortably installed in the coupe
which was carrying us far from Miss
Rose, "do you regret having thrown
away your evening, my son?"
44 'Thrown away' is rather severe,
mamma! Had Mine. Desjardins and
her daughters been much less charm
ing, I should not have regretted
accompanying you when you wanted
me to do so. But my opinions are
unchanged, I confess; baccalaureates
have no charm for me."
"As you like, my son. You are
perfectly welcome to your opinion."
What was the meaning of the smile,
half-satisfied, half-roguish, which
flitted across mamma's face, under
tho shadow of her white lace scarf?
Oh, Rose ! Rose! Every night my
dreams are haunted by your dress of
azure blue. Why, oh Rose, are your
eyes the color of your gown? Why
do tiny curls escape from the coil of
your fair hair to nestle tremblingly in
your neck, like a pale smoke, a golden
mist? Why do gay dimples spring in
your velvety cheeks when you srnile?
Abovo all, why, oh Rose of May,
sweet Rose without thorns, has
heaven placed you beside a gorgeous
but perfumeless tulip, glowing like a
flame in the pride of her beauty?
Rose, you have made me faithless
to the classic beautv. For mc vour
sister Martha possesses only the cold
majesty of a statue; a religious awe
steals over me when gazing on your
pure face. Rose, 1 am only happy
near you!
Thus my thoughts wandered for
eight long days. Was it my thoughts
alone? What was there to provent
the straying of my heart as well?
I have seen her again! I seo her
now every week. 1 have a standing
invitation to Mme. Desjardin's Wed
nesday evenings, and she, with her
daughters, comes regularly to mother's
Friday receptions.
My mind is filled with a collection
of portraits representing Miss Rose in
various guises. Miss Rose in her fairy
liko ball dress, Miss Rose in an ex
quisitely fitttiug calling suit of deli
cate gray. Miss Rose in a white house
dress, adorned with a dainty Russian
apron. But in these various aspects
she is always the same little Rose,
whose sweet graces have gone to my
very heart.
morning I rushed into my
mother's room.
"Mamma, I love Miss Rose. I must
marry her. Put on your calling dress
as quickly as you can. Take a car
riage, fly to Mme. Desjardin's, and
tell her that, if she refuses to let me
marry her daughter. I shall bo wild
with despair—that I shall drown my
self—that—"
••Well, well, John, not so fast, I
beg,"replied, mamma, quietly, "It
is not customary to make an offer of
marriage at 9 o'clock in the morning.
Besides, my dear," sh 3 added, as she
placed her coffee cup upon the dress
ing table, "you must remember our
compact. You are not to ask advice,
information or assistance from me.
Marry whom you like. Arrange mat
ters as best you can. It i 9 your own
affair."
Decidedly, mamma is still vexed
with me. Very well; I will do with
out her advice and assistance. This
evening, yes, this very evening. I
shall lay my heart, my name, my for
tune and my life at the feet of my
dear Rose."
The day passed in an agony of hope
and fear. Ancl to think that I, prac
tical man that I am. kissed at least a
hundred times a flower stolen from my
idol! And I gazed at that flower like
a school girl dreaming over a faded
marguerite as she thinks of the vows
of her cousin.
There is a concert and ball at Mme.
Desjardins's.
In the bay window—she wears the
blue tulle dress—l have heaven in my
soul. Oh, how beautiful the May
nights are wheu one can throw opon
the windows of the ballroom ! When
happy couples, a black coat and a
light dress, stray out upon the bal
cony to gaze up at the stars. When
the air is filled with the intoxicating
odor of the dewy foliage.
Docs Rose encourage me to confi
dences? She seems vaguely melan
choly, and the smile has fled from her
lips. Our talk is serious, and is in
terrupted by those long pauses when
the heart seem full to bursting.
Strange! It seems as if a new being
were gradually being evolved from
the young girl I have known. Rose
seems like a woman to me now ; yes,
like a woman who still retains the
sweet naivete of a child.
Tho glimpse I catch of this un
known person throws an irresistible
charm over my already stricken hoart.
What an infinitude of perspectives is
unveiled to my view; child, woman,
trust me! Do not hide from me long
er the mysterious treasures of tender
ness half hidden by thy sweet purity !
We are alone. The stars watch over
us. I cannot help but adore thee.
I bend towards her. Suddenly, be
hind us, there is a movement of chairs
and a rustling of dresses. Whispers
interrupt me.
"The Mariani is going to sing,"
murmur the voices.
Oh, what is tho famous cantatrice to
mc ! lam vexed at the interruption.
But soon the light chords of the pre
lude reach us, like the awakiug of birds
in tho fields at break of day; then a
voice is heard UDOVC the rustling of
fans, a maguirtcent voice which calms
me, moves me, penetrates to my very
soul, and I feel a great wave of har
mony pass over me.
She sings:
MaMon, harkon to my pr:i>cr
Listen to me, 1 implore !
My heart will surely break.
And for all thy dear sake !
3lai-lon, I love thee
As I have never, never loved before!
Heavens! 1 loss my head—l soizo
tho trembliug hand resting upon the
window sill. Rose starts. Sing on,
blessed voice! sing on. and whisper to'
my beloved all that fills my heart.
And yet I dare not speak:
Fain would I serve thee,
My lady love, my queen.
Lo ! wtvro before tuoj prostrate I'm kneel
ing.
Ah, trust me. and I will fiithfully prove,
Bo hut my own ; my wife ! my love !
A round of applause follows. I
bend towards my darliug, who smiles,
but seems ready to cry.
"Rose, Rose, do you understand?
Rose, will you trust me that I may
prove my faithfulness to thee? Will
you be 4 my own; my wife; my
love?'"
She sighs, she trembles! "Xo, I am
not mistaken! She loves me! She
loves me! I read it in her eyes!"
"Rose, I love you. I adore you for
your simplicity, for your sweet nai
vete, for your adorable ignorance of
the lifo and ways ol' this world. In
yon I find my ideal of what woman
should be. One who has lived a quiet,
secluded life in tho bosom of her
family, happy in the sweet home lifo
that is the scorn of pedants and blue
stockinge. You are the companion of
my dreams. Ob, Rose, my Rose—say
that you can love me!"
She grows pale, then red, and the
tears fill her eyes; then she becomes
paler still, and replies very softly, but
calmly and sadly :
"Xo, Mr. Jack, I am not your ideal
| woman. You have so often described
her to me, so often and so cruelly,
perhaps, that I might almost ask my
self at this moment if you are mock
ing me. But I feel that for the time
being, at least, you are sincere. You
love me, you say, because I am simple
and gay, as girls of my age should be;
because I do not scorn homo life, and
because I make a fairly good hostess.
But you wouldn't love me any more,
I'm afraid—you would find me ridi
culous, you would leave me in disap
pointment, if you knew"—
"Knew what, Rose, for heaven'?
sake?"
"I am surprised that you do not
know what all our friends know—
your mother as well a3 any one. 1
have—l am—l am a Bachelor of Arts!
And you have sworn never to marry a
Bachelor of Arts. You told me so
yourself."
"You a baccalaureate, Rose! Is it
possible? 1 thought it was your
sister!"
"No, it is not my sister. Unfor
tunately it is I," she sobbed.
"Dear Rose, my dearly beloved, why
can't I throw myself on my knees be
fore you here in the bow window and
make honorable amends for my stu
pidity? Ah, fool that I have been,
and how blind ! Here I have caused
this angel of simplicity to blush for
her learning! I have wounded and
humiliated her! But how could I
hive dreamed that fate had reserved
such a rare treasure for me? Such a
mind, united with sweet womanly
grace and a true heart. Rose, speak
to me in Latin ; speak to me in Greek,
but tell mo that you love me, even if
it is in the language of Homer ! Oh,
Rose ! I will study my forgotten de
clensions to please you, and we will
discuss philosophy together by our
fireside! Have I obtained my par
don? Will you believe me, my dear
est?"
Sho places her trembling littlo
hand in mine, while the Mariani
repeats once more with her divine
voice the impassioned love song:
Malilon, I love thee
As I have never, never loved before !
Rose is my wife now. We discuss
all sorts of subjects as we admire our
baby, who dances gayly on the knees
of his future preceptress.
As for me, lam the happiest of
men ; ray wife is so bewitching when,
to tease me, she says in Latin, what
we are always thinking, "I love thee?"
If you come to see us iu the coun
try you shall tasto the preserves of
my fair baccalaureate, aud you must
give me your opinion of them, you
gentlemen who swear so strongly
never to marry a Bachelor of Arts.—
From the French, in Romance.
An Obsolete Emery Wheel.
Naxos, one of tho largest and most
famous of the Cyclades Islands of
Greece, has from time immemorial
produced emery on a large scale, but
times are changing and unless resort is
had to scientific engineering, the
glory of the plac3 will have fled. Two
villages have had tho monopoly of
emery mining, and have sent out daily
about GOO workmen who, in tho most
archaic fashion, have set to work.
Tho rook has been exclusively broken
up by lire, the method being to clear
a space, pile brushwood on it, light a
lire, and when tho tiro is dying out,
throw water on tho glowing rock to
split it. Under such conditions only
the surface strata could be utilized,
but these are played out, aud the sup
'ply of brushwood is played out also.
Experts who have been consulted by
the Grecian Government have recom
mended tho resort to systematic
quarry borings, the use of powerful
explosives, wire ropeways and other
familiar appliances. In tho mean
time the Naxos industry is practically
at a standstill, anl other deposits
elsewhere have things all their own
way, because they are properly
handled. It is said that in tho United
States the development of large coruu
drum beds in North Carolina is doing
much to modify tho state of tho in
dustry.—Atlanta Journal.
' A Prize Snake Story.
A most hideous spectacle was re
vealed in a well on a farm near Hon
ongaheia on Thursday. Tho well had
supplied the neighborhood with water
for a generation. The owner and hie
son pumped the well out. One of the
men with a lighted lamp was lowered
to make an inspection. Half way
down he shouted to those above to be
hoisted, and urged them to haul away
for his iife. He was almost paralyzed
with fright, saying that the well was
alive with snakes from top to bottom.
A light was lowered, and suakes in un
counted numbers and of every con
ceivable 6ize and variety could bo seeu
hanging from the sides aud coiled iu
tho bottom. Lizzards and toads were
also there in large numbers. The
people who havo been using the water
have the horrors.
The owner of the well will try to
get rid of the su.iUc3 by blastiug the
rocks around tho well.—Columbus
(Ohio) Journal.
Glass Houses.
Ono of the promised novelties of tho
next great Exposition will be a glass
house. Tho building will have a
skoleton frame of irou, ou which will
bo fastened glass posts, making a dou
blo wall. The root will be of tinted
glass, and cornices, foundation, door
step and stairways will be of thick
slabs of glass. Imitations of all sorts
of building material will be possible
in tho now house, and tho tops of pil
lars aud moulding* will be stamped
in arabesques and flowers. By im
proved methods, glass tubing and
pipes are made that lmve a resistance
equal to cust-iron. When these pipes
can be usod for conveying water, we
will bo suro of a much better quality
of article than at present, as no
peculiarities of soil cau corrode them,
and tho water will acquire no unusual
taste.--Now York Ledger.
THE MERRY SIDE OF LIFE.
STORIES THAT ARE TOLD BT THE
FUNNY MEN OF THE PRESS.
Busier Than the Bee—Abasement—
Literal -The Point of View— Adds
Nothing to It, Etc., Etc.
How doth the little l>u9y ad
Improve minute,
And gather dollars, dimes and cents
For the merchant who is in it.
THE POINT OF MEW.
Carson—"To what school of writers
does Scrawls belong?"
Yokes—"He poses as a realist; but
his creditors suy he is a romancer." •
Truth.
ABASEMENT.
Penelooe (froezingly)— "Ton do not
love rae."
Ten Broke (convincingly) —"I wor
ship the very ground that you in
herit."—Life.
ADDS NOTHING TO IT.
"The telephone is like a woman;
it tells everything it hears."
"Yes, that's so. And it's unlike a
woman, too ; it tells a thing just as it
hears it."—Life.
NOBLE SELF-SACRIFICE.
Friend—"Does Arthur smoke?"
Sweet Girl—"No ; he never smoked
in his life, and he has promised that
if I marry him he will never learn. Is
n't he noble?" —Puck.
LITERAL.
"It's a good idea to make light ol
your troubles."
"I do," replied Happigo; "when
ever a creditor sends me a letter J
burn it."—Washington Star.
GOT IT.
Hopgood—"Yes; Jobson had no
peace of mind until he married that
girl."
Dewberry—"Well, last night I heard
her giving him a piece of hers."
TRUTHFUL.
"Waiter, is this cheese imported?"
"Yes, sir; part of it."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, sir, the holes came from
Switzerlaud, but just tho substance
was made here."
TWO STRING??.
"Why is Charley letting his hair
grow?"
"For two reasons. He intends to
try football, and if he's not a success
at it he's goiug to join the woman's
rights party."—Judge.
A MATTER OF INDIFFERENCE.
"Do you take any interest in tho
problem of whether or not Mars is in
habited?" asked the young man.
"Oh, dear, no," lepliccl the young
woman. "Even if it were the people
wouldn't belong to our set."—Judge.
GETTING EVEN.
Jones—"l told you that I would
get even with Smith, and I have."
Brown—"How did you do it?"
Jones—"l made my wife put ou
her new two-liuadred-aud-fifty-dollar
sealskin sacque and go and call ou his
wife."—Puck.
A SATISFACTORY SUBSTITUTE.
Irate Woman—"Git out of here,
you dirty Injun! Is it dinner you
have the lace to beg for? I'll sic one
of the dogs OL you !"
Chiel Much-'fraid-of-water (placidly)
"S'pose sic fat dog on big Injun;
him heap glad."—Judge.
RESIGNATION.
"Is your wife lecturing on the des
tiny of woman?" was the sympathetic
inquiry.
"i'e's."
"Isn't that a pretty heavy subject?"
"Yes. But it could be worse. She
might be at home making biscuit."—
Washington Star.
AN AUTHORITY.
"Football, sir, is brutal. It is based
'largely upon the exerciso of brute
force, and tho opportunities of unfair
tactics are such—"
"Oh, say—hold on. Have you ever
seen a game of football?"
"No; but I bold clinics in threo
hospitals in a college town!"— Chicago
Becord.
GOOD TO THROW AT THE CAT.
Book canvassers should take cour
age from a story told by an English
lecturer on "The Art of Bookbinding."
A man of their profession had called
at a house whoso occupant met him
with a growl.
"It's no use to me, I never read."
"But there's your family," said tho
canvasser.
"Haven't any family—nothing but
a cat.''
"Well, you may want something to
throw at the cat."
Tho book was purchased.
HE DIDN'T WAIT.
"Mary!"
It was the voice of the old man in
the upper hall.
"Yes. pa."
"Is Mr. Simpson still there?"
"Y—yes, pa."
"And didn't the clock just striko
one?"
"I—'l rather think it did."
"Well, you just tell him if he is
there in ten minutes from now that
that is just what I shall do, and—
Mary!"
"Yep, pa."
"He will be that one."
Fifteen seconds later the front door
opened and closed again softly and
Mary was alone in the hall.—New
Yctfk World.
HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.
CEEPING HOUSE PLANTS FROM FREEZING.
On very cold nights it is sometimes
lifficult to keep the house plants from
freesing. A few of the tenderer Kinds
tnay he removed from the colder
window to the middle of the room,
ind the others covered with news
papers. Pinning newspapers against
the window sash will prevent much of
the heat of the room from escaping.
When there are many plants, a useful
plan is to place a couple of lamps, or
a small oil stove between the flowers
and the window, and light them just
before retiring. The coldest time will
ocour in the early morning when tho
house fires are the lowest, and the
lamps will then be at work.—American
Agriculturist.
TO rr.EVENT DRUMSTICK BURNING.
An ingenious woman has discovered
a method to prevent the drumsticks of
turkeys from burning to a crisp.
When the bird is well started in the
oven, she mixes a dough with flour
and water, rolls it out on tho board
and covers the turkey with it, blanket
fashion. This cover remains until the
bird is nearly done, when it is care
fully lifted out, the outside of the
turkey thoroughly basted with butter
and dripping and allowed to becomo
slightly brown. If the blanket re
mains on until the roast is cooked, tho
skin of the bird and much of the meat
may come off with it. It is, therefore,
necessary to remove it somewhat
earlier. According to this unidenti
fied authority, the caterer for a small
family, who must buy a very small
roast of beef, will find this a most ad
mirable plan in cooking the meats.
As a rule, a small roast is likely to be
overdone. By this means the cook
can, with a little experience, gauge
the process with the utmost nicety.
In the broiling of steaks, also, the
same plan may be cdopted.—New
Vork Observer.
HOW TO BAKE GRIDDLE CAKES.
Now that the season of griddle cakes
is at hand, some directions as to the
method of making them may be in or
der. No one likes to contemplate the
odors that always seemed inevitable,
and that heralded to the family iD
their bedrooms the fact that pancakes
were to form part of the breakfast.
This smell of burning fat need be no
part of the preparation of what is en
tirely a National dish. The one thing
to be remembered is not to grease
one's griddle at all. If one must use
an old griddle, that has become in
crusted with the layers of many years
of burned fat, this may be impossi
ble. In such a case buy a now one il
possible. If it is not possible, try this
way: Soak tho griddle in strong lye
and see if that will not remove every
vestige of the old grease. If it does
—and it hr.s been known to do so
with a griddle that had boen used for
six years—then scour it with a cloth
dippeil in grease enough to make
plenty of salt cling to it. Scour with
the salt and do not wash. Use it with
out putting a particle of fat on it, but
merely seeing that it is hot, on tho
stove, and that it keeps hot. It will
be found that the cakes will bake with
no trouble, and no grease. In buying
n new griddle, rub it in tho same man
ner with the grease and salt and never
wash. Heat the griddle and keep it
hot, but do not put any fat on it. 1/
the cakes to be baked have no short
ening in them, add one tablespoonful
of buttor for this manner of baking.
In making buckwheat cakes, without
frying, take enough for the morning's
meal and add to that the teaspoonful
of melted butter. It is not to be recom
mended that a soapstone griddle be
used; they are too expensive and are
altogether too apt to crack ii suddenly
cooled. A steel griddle, which may
be bought for 81, is better.—New
Orleans Picayune.
BREAKFAST BREADS.
The followiug recipes were found iD
the collection, probably made from
various sources, of a young German
cook.
Oatmeal Gems—Ono piut cooked
oatmeal, ono pint sweet milk, four
tablespoonfuls of sugar, two beaten
e g£ s > one teaspoonful of salt, two
tablespoonfuls of melted butter, two
teaspoonfuls baking powder. Bake in
a quick, hot oven.
Corn Bread—Thrco cups of corn
meal, one cup of flour, one cup of
molasses, two cups of sweet milk, two
teaspoonfuls of baking powder. Scald
two cups of the meal and mix tho
other with the flour and baking pow
der. Steam three hours.
Corn Muffins—One pint of com
meal, one pint of flour, two eggs, one
tablespoonful of lard, one tabiespoon
ful of sugar, three teaspoonfuls ol
baking powder, one pint of sweet
milk, one scant teaspoonful salt. Mix
the flour, corn meal and lard togethei
like pie crust, and bake in mufliD
pans.
English Muffins—One quart ol
flour, one teaspoonful of sugar, one
teaspoonful of salt, two teaspoonfule
baking powder, and one and one
fourth pints of sweet milk. Make
your batter a littlo stiffer than for
griddle cakes. Have a griddle hot
and greased and lay a greased muffin
pan on it and All them half full, turn
with a cako turner when they havo
risen till full. Do not bake too
brown. When done pull apart, toast
slightly, butter and serve at once.
Breakfast Muffins—One cap of
sugar, one egg, one tablespoonful of
melted butter, one pint of sweet milk,
three cups of flour, two teaspoonfuls
of baking powder and one of salt.
Farm, Field and Fireside.
Wild ducks, cranes, swallows and
several other kinds of birds assemblo
in flocks as the time of migration ap
proaches, and seem to discuss the de
parture and the route.