IN THE QUICKSANDS. BY H. IRVINE LYNDS. We were all sitting around the cozj fireplace in my friend's study, telling hunting experiences. The wind wo* blowing outside with just enough force to give the windows a ghostly rattle, and make the blaze roar up the chim ney in away that lent an added charm to stories into which the element of danger largely entered. We had all dutifully told some old time adventure—with certain udditions that seemed absolutely necessary un der the circumstances—all except our host, who had been given the last place on the list, so that the series might close robed in the richest coloring. He was a hunter of wide and varied experience and a man who had given a great deal of intelligent thought to the mysteries of woodcraft. Conse quently, whatever he said upon the sub ject was always listened to with defer ence. We therefore settled down a little more comfortably in our chairs as he began: "In my younger days I spent more time in the woods than Ido now. Not that I like hunting less. It has as great attraction for me as ever, the odor of the woods is as sweet to me as the scent of powder is to the old war horse; but many things claim my time now and keep me from wandering. "The little adventure I am about to tell happened in Nova Scotia, 20 years ago, when 1 was quite a young man. "It is not generally known that cer tain parts of the province contain some of the finest hunting grounds imagina ble. Miles and miles of virgin forest, acres of spruce and pine averaging fully CO feet in height, crowded together on moss-green groundwork, almost close enough to shut out daylight. Then there are parts overrun with high maples, birch and beech. "Many a day have I crept through the deep, shady glades and over the long, sloping hills. But I am rather wandering from my story. "I'll just show you where my adven ture happened." Raising, he took down an atlas from a shelf. "Just here at the north," he con tinued. "See that headland? That's the plaee. Twice a day all the water in the basin seems to rush around that point, and away up into the mainland. "It is marsh land along there, and the point is called Minudie marsh. It is a very large tract of land, said to con- Min 5,000 acres, shut in from the sea by nine miles of dyke. It is perfectly level, dotted all over with barns and hay stacks; and in the autumn also with men and horses, busily at work cutting •broad leaf" or marsh hay. "One not acquainted with the place could easily become lost, for the barns and haystacks, extending in every di rection, are all alike in size, shape nnd color. It-was near this marsh that 1 had located myself for the hunting sea son, on account of the excellent sport which it afforded in the shape of almost every kind of water fowl, and also be cause not many miles away were woods in which moose and caribou were plen tiful. "The autumn that year had been very dry, so that there were, comparatively speaking, 110 birds 011 the marsh. With out knowing this, however, 1 one day set out for a few hours' shooting. "I truui|)od the best part of the aft ernoon, without success, and, as 1 dit| not care to go home without bagging something, I determined to shoot •peep' on the mud fiats. "I rolled up my trousers to th© knee and started, sinking fully six inches in the soft mud ut every step. 1 walked ui>out for some time, getting a shot now and then and wandering far out upon the flats, until a rushing noise behind made me turn quickly around. "The 'bore' was coming—a bunk of tumbling, seething water, quite three feet high, tearing about us fast as a man could run. 'Time to be getting back/ thought I. 'lt will not take long for the 1 tide to cover the fiats.' I stood and watched the tidal wave for a moment, then started quite leisurely for the dyke, shaping my course directly for it. "After having gone 50 yards or so, 1 came to a gully, between eight and ten feet wide, at the bottom of w hicfy flowed a little stream. It ran nearly parallel with the dyke, and in order to reach the marsh 1 had either to cross it or go away up nnd around. Not car ing to lengthen my disagreeable tramp —for it w as no fun dragging one's feet out of the mud nt every stop —I decided to hold my original course. The sides of the gully looked soft and treacher ous, but by taking a running jump I thought I could clear the dangerous part. "I stepped back a few paces, and, firmly grasping the gun, started. I had miscalculated the effect the bad footing would have, nnd saw my mistake the moment I sprang; but too late! "I landed 011 the other side of the stream, in what seemed to me the soft est part of the mud. My weight and the impetus of my jump drove uic into the mud knee-deep. "At first 1 was inclined to laugh at my plight, but that feeling speedily gave way to one of anxiety, when I reah ized that I was swiftly sinking. "I endeavored to draw my feet on t> but when I tried to lift one the other went further down. A cold sweat broke out 011 my forehead. 1 was in a bed of quicksand! "1 struggled with all my strength, but it was useless. There seemed to be an undercurrent of sand that was con tinually slipping away from my feet. Against that terrible power it was use less to fight. "I had heard and read of people dy ing in this horrible manner, but never before had the chilling awfulness of it struck me with any degree of force. Now, as I thought of being drawn slow ly down, down inch by inch, in imagi nation I could feel the cold, wet mud creeping, like some gruesome reptile about my neck, higher, higher—over my chin; over my tightly-closed lips, until my breath —. I tell you a man's mind rushes wfien he gets so near tho border! "I shouted for help, in the hope of attracting some one, but it only ex hausted me, and my struggles caused me to sink faster. "In extreme agony of mind, I threw myself 011 my face —I had not sunk be low my waist—and clawed the bank in u frantic endeavor to draw myself out. My lingers slipped through the soft mud and touched some hard, smooth substance, buried about three inches below the surface. "I struggled to grasp it, but it was too large for my fingers to grip. It was a tree that had probably grounded on the flat long ago, and the tides had gradually drifted the sand over it. "When one is in a position of great bodily danger, events succeed one an other much more rapidly than they can be afterward told. The telling of Ibis bias taken a great deal longer time than its actual occurrence. A few min utes only had passed since I started to ward the dyke. "The sound of the tide now rushing over the lower part of the flats called me to a sense of new danger. "Even if I was able to keep from sink ing for a little while, the red water would soon rise over the place of my imprisonment and complete what the quicksands had so surely begun. "'Drowning is said to be the easiest of deaths,' thought I, though any kind was preferable to being smothered in oozy quicksand. "In the water, too, I could at least struggle—fight for life. But iu that narrow, clinging grave, every limb )>ound as with elastic cords, allowing freedom only to the extent of simply maddening one, caught like a miserable lly in a spider's web, I would not even have the satisfaction of struggling. "The feeling of fear that first pos sessed me gradually left, or maybe numbed my senses, and in its plaee came strange fancies, such us one dreams when lying half awake. "The sun seemed beating its piercing rays into my brain. The hoarse cry of u raven far up in the sky came faintly to inc. I pictured him and his mate, dark specks showing against a background of white clouds, floating—Hooting and v. atching. "1 wondered if the peek of a raven's beak on one's head would hurt much—if they were up there waiting for me to lie. Then I remembered that before 1 was dead I would be buried! "I smiled grimly nt the thought of cheating them. But if they came he fore? Instinctively I felt for my knife. I could keep them off with it. My knife! Like a llush came the thought that it would be u means of rescue. "The cloud of fancies seemed to lift from my brain. With trembling fin gers, I hurriedly drew it out and opened it. It was the kind knownamongschool boys as 'toudstabber,' stout and strong. "Hopefully, with 011 c hand, 1 felt for the tree; but I had sunk so fur in the mud that it was now beyond my reach. A groan burst through my clenched teeth, as my last hope fled. "It seemed as if I must give up. But life is sweet—so sweet to one about to lose it. One more effort, then —a re quiem chanted by the waves and flung landward by the winds. "Making a violent struggle, I thrust my hand that held the knife us tar for ward us 1 could and struck down with ull my strength. "The tree must have been lying obliquely along the sides of the gully, so that my left hand had not been able to roach it; but my right, in which was the knife, had found it. The blade sunk into the soft, half-decayed wood. Slip ping my hand down as closely to tho tree as possible, so as not to put' the. knife out, und placing my left hand over my right, to give myself greater pur chase, I pulled. Slowly, almost imper ceptibly, the dreadful sucking power was lessened—was stopped! Slowly my arms bent—l was gaining! Wrench ing tiho knife out, I drove it in farther up the trunk, repeating this again and again, for I was able to draw myself only a few inches ut a time, until I finally lay my length over the tree— saved! "I had thrown the gun high up 011 the flat when. 1 first found that I was fast. Recovering it now, I gained the dyke, to fall weak and trembling 011 the grass. I lay there until tlie tide had risen to the dyke. Then washing the mud out of my clothes 1 spread them in the sun to dry. When 1 had finished it was flood tide, the water was still and smooth as a mirror, except where here aud there mounds of unibcr-colored foam or a piece of driftwood broke the surface. "I shuddered as my eyes, drawn by a strange fascination, sought out the spot. How covered by many feet of water, where a short time before I had so narrowly escaped a terrible death. "When I reached my boarding house, tired and hungry, the harvest moon was shining brightly. I thought with a shudder of the cold white glitter of the wet sands, and how nearly that night her beams had rested 011 my grave."— Golden Days. Stopping a Small Leak. A Detroit, merchant has been so care ful in the conduct of his business us to he afflicted with very few bad accounts. But there is one citizen who, despite the fact that his record elsewhere was bad, managed to get i n debt to the firm. "I suppose," fuid the bookkeeper, 011 the first of the month, "that we will send Skinnim that bill regularly for several months to c ome?" "No," replied the merchant. "Times l ave been pretty hard and I guess we'd better not lose any chance to economize. Just charge what he owes to profit nnd loss and pay 110 more attention to him. It'll save ink and a good deal of wear end teur on the pens."—Detroit Free Press. A CHILD'S LESSON. Far down In the silent ocean. Where the sunbeams never fall, Never comes the storm's commotion. Dwells the coral Insect small. Days, and months, and years are passiray, Still ho climbs to roach the sun; Every hour his work is growing Till the coral reef is dene. Upward slowly, ah! but surely Climbs he brighter every year; From this little coral insect Let us lourn to persevere. CANINE VOCALIST. Tennessee llu:t a Dog of Whom the People Are Justly l'roud. While on u trip through Moore coun ty, Tenn., recently, I was the guestof Rev. Frank M. Downing, who lives in the neighborhood of a. small settlement called County Line. Ilis family con sists of himself and wife and a- small yellow dog, which I noticed received an unusual amount of care and atten tion. As there was nothing particular ly attractive about the dog, which was only a mongrel cur, J. rather wondered at their manifest affection, and one day inquired the reason for it. Mr. Down ing, for answer, called: "Bench!" and placed him in a chair, commanding him to "crow." My astonishment was un bounded when the dog gave a perfect imitation of a Shanghai rooster, and without further command followed ii ■with the neigh of a horse, lowing of cows, grunts and squeals of pigs, whin ing of eats, and various noises incident to farm life. lie could give all ttfie yelps of a pack of hounds in pursuit of a fox, and in so realistic a manner t-har you could scarcely help believing that a hunt was in progress. Mr. Downing sr.id nobody had taught the animal, and his peculiar imitative powers were discovered by accident The summer previous, when Bench wh a mere puppy, Rev. John Malcol th preacher for their circuit, was V at Downing's house, and was made ex tremely nervous nt night by a rooster crowing at all hours beneath his win dow. The people who were attending him could not discover the rooster, but one morning Mrs. Downing, in passing the window, was startled by seeing the puppy throw back his head and crow. She hastened to relate the circum stances to her husband, who was in credulous and carefully watched the dog. He quickly corroborated his wife's story, and for some time the neighbors flocked to see the wonderful dog. He quickly learned to crow at command, and each day picked up some new sound. Last November a neighbor of Mr. Downing carried Bench to Nash ville while the I'nrntim & Bailey show was there, and the manager offered a handsome price for him, saying that lie was convinced Bench could be taught to talk, but Mr. Downing refused to give him up. In appearance Bench is not. prepossessing, his color being a dirty yellow, his hair coarse and wiry, his legs short, and his body rather un wieldy. In his eyes, however, there gleams an intelligence almost human. —St. Louis Globe-Dcmocrat. SNOW MERRY-GO-ROUND. Lots of I'un In Townn Where There Are No 11111:4 to Count Down. Did you ever hear of a snow merry pro-round? It's great fun, especially iu a town where there are no liills to coast down. One of the readers of the boys' and prirls' department describes just how the merry-go-round is made. A stout post is driven at the center of a level plot of ground, nnd to the top of this a long pole or plank is fastened on u pivot. This is nil that is necessary. A sled may now he tied to either end or one ut each end of the pole, und a '' 'sC~ SNOW MERRY-GO-HOUND. few boys at the center can keep the merry-go-round spinning with great, rapidity. Of course the boys 011 the sleds, who are called "rushers," have an exciting ride, and they take turns occasionally with the "pushers." If the snow wears out the track can be iced by pouring water over it nnd let ting it freeze.—Chicago Record. A Watch That Speaks. A wonderful mechanical contrivance ;S announced from Switzerland in the shape of a watch that calls out the hours in a voice like that of a human being. This mechanical curiosity is the invention of one Cnsimir Livan, who bases its principles upon his knowledge of the workings of the pho nograph. The ease, instead of contain ing a striking apparatus, us sonic of the lute costly watches do, is provided with a phonographic cylinder, which is fitted with a sensitive photographic plate, which has received the impres sion of a human voice before being in serted in the watch. Two Mighty Boy Hunters. There are two boys, aged 35 and IS, living 011 Bear creek, Pa., who have a hunting record that would be hard to surpass. Jll this season Sam, the younger, has bagged five deer, two old bears and two cubs, three wildcats, two foxes, a wild turkey and 50 jmrt ridges, to nay nothing of rabbits. Ilis brother Joe has killed four deer, two bears, three wildcats, three foxes and (.0 partridges, and trapped three minks. Joe has not much time to hunt, as he is busy getting out railroad tics, but ho thinks he has doue "pretty well, con sidering." THE BRAVE ELEPHANT. Obedient and Faithful In the Midst of a Fierce l ight. In some countries in Asia an elephant is made to carry the flag in battles. This is because the eloi>hant is so tal! and the soldiers can easily see the flag flying from his baclc. One of these elephants, which be longed to the Poona host, was very brave and very kind, but he would obey tlie. order of no one except his mahout, or driver. One time, while a very tierce light was raging, the driver called out to him: "Stand, my brave beast, stand!" A moment later the mahout received a fatal wound, and fell to the ground, where he lay beneath a pile of wounded and slain. The obedient animal would not move, though the battle raged wildly around him. The Poona soldiers, who feared they were being overcome, were cheered on by the sight of the flag still floating from his back. He never stirred a foot, and all through the hot. fight, the noise, the smoke, the confusion, listened patient ly for the voice of his master. Sharp spears were hurled at him, a score of javelins pierced liis sides, his long ears dripped with blood, but he stood like a rock. "Como forward, my men!" cried the Poona captain; "our flag still floats, and the battle will yet be ours." His men, discouraged and ready to fly, rallied at. this command, and with a cheer for the flag pressed forward. In a short time they had won tin victory, and put the enemy to flight. And then they gathered around the brave elephant, offering to lend him where lie could be fed and eared for. Hut, though wounded and worn, tin obedient creature would not move tin til he heard liis master's voice. Tliu; master could never speak again. A rider was sent in great haste to r place 5!) miles away, where lived tin driver's little son, whom the c-lephnn knew and loved. When the little hoy was brought tt the battle-ground the elephant showed very plainly that he was glad to so? him, and permitted the child to lend him away. —Jennie S. Judson, in Oui Little Ones. THE VISITING SPARROW. 110 Spent the Winter in Captivity, Ilut Flew Awiiy in Spring. A few years ago a lady living in tin Via Vollurno, in Home, had some pel canaries in cages, which she e\cry day hung out on a balcony in front of her kitchen window. She observed a spar row frequently come and perch on one of the cages, and one evening, v.hoi. she brought in her birds, she unawares, brought in also the little wild visitor perched on its favorite cage. It showed no fear, and peeked the crumbs sin offered it. Evening after evening the same bird continued to come in with its imprisoned friend. An empty cage with food was left near, and in this it made its abode a! night, the door always being left open. Spring cuine and the sparrow flew away. Then the summer passed, and with the shortening days she returned, boldly entering the kitchen, surrounded by a brood of four or five little sparrows. She had come, it seemed, to greet her old friend and introduce her treasures to her. They all conlidingly ate the crumbs scattered for them on the kitchen floor. Soon winter came, and with it the sparrow again as an estab lished lodger with board. Again the soft breeze of n southern spring whis pered of new nests and broods, and the sparrow flew away, but to return no more. —London Spectator. A Strange Cane of Instinct. A strange instance of animal instinct occurred at the Theater Koyal, Middles borough, England, dm ing the perform ance of a pantomime. In the panto mime is introduced a miniature circus with ponies, baboon and a donkey. While putting the baboon through its paces the trainer noticed how eagerly it sought the footlights and scanned the first row of the stalls. A seafaring man, who was evidently the object of interest to the baboon, uttered a pe culiarly distinctive cry, when instantly the baboon sprang across the foot lights into his arms. An inquiry on the part of the acting manager elicited t he extraordinary fact that the seaman had originally brought, the baboon from its native laud, but that was several years ago. How a I.lon Caught a Pillow. An English officer was shooting re jently in Somalilund, Africa. One night when he was in bed, inside his tenr, x lion sprang over the rough thorn fence which had been thrown ii|> around the encampment. Instead of picking up c.ie of the men or animals, that liiust have been lying about asleep inside the fence, the beast made for the sportsman's tent and seized him— fortunately by the hand only. Then, by some wonderful piece of luck, as tho lion changed its grip for the man's ■ihoulder, it. grabbed the pillow in dead, and so vanished with its prize. The. pillow was found next morning ■several hundred yurds distant in the jur.^ie. THE POET'S CORNER. ••Home Ih Whore the Loved Oikm Are.* Tho' noTth or south, or east or west, Our f.et may wander, near or far, This truth is borne In ev'ry breast— Our home is where our loved ones are Four walls upreared by human hands Form not the place that we call home; We turn to them in stranger lands, We yearn for them where'er we roam, Because the hearts that love and liv— Because the hearts wo know are true Aro gathered there and wait t< give A welcome when our Journey's through. But if, by homcv/ard-gazlng eyes, No face is at tho window seen, And, dumb of heart, we look where lies A mound, a sacred spot of green, Oh, weary soul! remember this: A second truth our Father given* The heart that loves, immortal is— Tho heart that loves forever lives! Above the blue, beyond the vail, Our falt'rlng feet must Journey far; We'll find our home—we cannot fall— Fcr home is wh< re our loved ones are! —William Wallace Cook, in Ladles' World. Tlio (all. The city claims the winter, bo it so, But when the sky is full of songs and wings, The valleys fragrant with bright bloom ing things, To nnture's glad republic thou shouldst go. There Inspiration drops from the young morn; There noons are like full urns pressed down with life; There doth the past with many sorrows rife Fall shriveled off and leave the soul new born. Hark to the call from many a dusky wood, From spicy pastures drowsing in the sun, From lilied streams that through the meadows run. Come, live with us, and we will do thee good. —Mary F. Butts, in Youth's Companion Pink Hyacinths. An odorous breath of blossoms pure and sweet. Pink hyacinths that come when spring winds blow. And star the emerald grass about our feet, Where late has lain the mantle of the snow. I stoop and pluck one dainty, waxlike bloom, That blushes with the hue of early dawn, And us I breathe lt3 subtly sweet perfume, I sigh to think of springtimes that are gone. But flowers will bloom with each returning spring. And robbins nest with every maiden year: Then why should we not tune our hearts and sing, Nor sigh for music fled and spring flowers —Minnie Quinn, in N. Y. Independent Adversity. Wo fret and fear if all the year is not a panoruma gay; Our fond hopes die, we weep and sigh When dark night follows day. If winter's snow would never blow, llow could wo love the warmth of June? If ne'er the night our day would blight Wo could not prize tho light of noon. If nn'er friends our trust would rend, Could wo tho worth of true l'rionds know' Our hearts could bless no kind caress If 'twere not for some cfruel blow. The day of light must follow night As did I ho grand creation's dawn; Our hearts must wait for fortune's state, Success is from affliction drawn. So bide tho hours, though smiling flowers Do not always the path adorn; Our hardest trials are fortune's wilP9, Tho sWcctest rose blooms on the thorn. —Sidney iiculd, in Chicago Inter Ocean. Beneath the Sod. I saw tho mortal laid beneath the sod, With enrven cross above her breast. I knew the immortal spirit was with Cod, A bright, pure soul had gained eternal rest, First of a band of fylends to pass away, Her busy, useful life on earth is done; landed forever Is her toilsome day, For her the promised rest bus now begun. I stood and hoard t!.c solemn accents full, "1 am the resurrection and tho life," (Jod, whose great mercy watches over all, llad t'en my friend from out our earthly strife. We left her lying in her peaceful bod, Until the dawning of that lust great day. Trusting In One who long ago hath suid Thut lie will wipe all bitter teursaway. —The Academy. If I Were Ten. If I wore ten, my dear like you, Tho sky, methinks, wore ulwuys blue, The hours would ne'er seem duli and dut For every day I'd seo the sun Como out and gild the world anew. And everything I heard were true, There were not aught to mourn, undo, I scarce would know the things to shun if 1 were ten. And yet, perhaps, if I could woo Your age again, I'fl long with rue To see the years and birthdays run Until my place to-day were won. I'd have a different point of view If I were ten. -Sketch. The Average Muu. I very much udiniro many traits that 1 possess. And though f blush to suy it, still I candidly confess There's lots I like uhout me; and while other folks may see Things in a very different light, I'm really pleased witli me. It's true my thoughts, my words, my deeds, my figure and my face May to the careless c-ye appear as only commonplace. But that's because I throw üboul my noble ness of mind A meek and modest air that mukes my greatness hard to find. —L. A. W. Bulletin Forgive. Walt not the morrow, but forgive me now; Who knows wltut fato to-morrow's dawn may bring? Lot us not part with shadow on thy brow, With my heart hungering. Wait not tho morrow, but entwine thy hand In mine with sweet forgiveness full and free; Of all life's joys I only understand Tliis joy of loving thee. Ferhaps some day I may redeem the wrong, Repair tho fault—l know not when or how. Oh, dearest, do not wait—it may bo long- Only forgive mo now. —London Academy. The Secret. 'Twas first her eyes that won his heart; And next her airy wit Caused him to grieve when they must part- So true-love knots are knit. Yet laughing (Acs and dainty Jest, Though potent in their way, Are not the means that serve her best In holding to her sway. Love lingers now, through years that make A havoc sad with others, For she can make a batter cake That's better than his mother's. —WoA'.'dugtoa^tan What is Castoria is Dr. Samuel Pitchor's prescription for Infants and Children. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. It is a harmless substitute for Paregoric, Drops, Soothing Syrups, and Castor Oil. It is Pleasant. Its guarantee is thirty years' use by Millions of Mothers. Castoria destroys Worms and allays fevcrislincss. Castoria prevents vomiting Sour Curd, cures Diarrhoea and Wind Colic. Castoria relieves teething troubles, cures constipation and llatulency. Castoria assimilates the food,' regulates the stomach and bowels, giving healthy aud natural sleep. Cas* toria is the Children's Panacea—the Mother's Friend. Castoria. Castoria. " Castoria li an excellent medlclno for ckil- "Castoria is BO well adapted to children that dren. Mothers have repeatedly told me of its r munimrll> | ie as superior toauy prescription good effect upon their children/* kuowu to me." DR. G. C. OSGOOD, IT. A. AncnEß, M. D., Lowell, Muss. 11l So. Oxford St., llrooklyu, N. Y. •' Castoria is the best remedy for children of " Our physicians in the children's depart which I am acquainted. I hope tho day is not ment have spoken highly of their expert far distant when mothers will consider the real enco in their outside pructiee with Castoria, Interest of their children, and use Castoria in- and although wo only have among our stead of the vuriousquack nostrums which are medical supplies what is known as regular destroying their loved ones, by forcing opium, products, yet wo are free to coufess that the morphine, soothing syrup and other hurtful merits of Castoria has won us to look with agents down their throats, thereby sending favor upon it." them to premature graves." UNITED HOSPITAL AND DISPENBARV, DR. J. F. KINCIIELOE, Boston, Mass. Conway, Ark. ALLEN C. SMITH, 2Yes., The Centanr Company, 71 Murray Street, Now York City* PEIRCE SCHOOL 32d Year. A representative American Business School for both sexes. RECORD BUILDING, 917-919 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia. THOMAS MAY PEIEOE, A.M.,Ph.D., Founder and Principal. 1865-1096. A Systematic Business Training Coupled with u practical, sound and useful English education. Three full courses : BUSINESS, SHORTHAND AND TYPEWRITING, ENGLISH. The whole constituting an Ideal Combination. Graduates Cheerfully Assisted lo Positions. Visitors welcome, especially during school hours, day or evening sessions. Call or write for School Literature. DAY CESSIONS, '9G-'D7, boffin Monday, August 31,1836. NI3HT SESSIONS, Monday, Ceptomtor 21, 2696. BICYCLES! BUGGIES; High-Grade, sold direct to users at wholesale. Wo will save you from $lO to SSO. Everything in Bicycle and Vehicle line. C.itlug free. lJouuti ful hubstancial Bicycles at half price, gnarauterd 1 year. No advance money roqnin-il. We t-ri,d by express and allow a full examination, if not. right return atour expense. Now isn't that fairi' Write us. Brewster Vehicle Co., Holly, Mich. B I CYCLISTS ! Encyclopedia, how toenro for and repair Tires, ('hams, Bearings, etc. 150 vuluablo pointers for riders. Price 25c; sample by mail 10c. It soils on sight. Agt. wanted. J . A. Slocum, Holly, Mich a day. Agts. wanted. 10 fast seller Big money for Agts. t 'atalog FKHft E. E. Brewster, llolly, Mich. WANTED -AN IDEA s^# thing to patent? Protect your ideas ; tlicy mat' bring jou weallli. Write ,I(I1N WKI H)KI 1- BUItN te CO., Patent Attorneys, Washington, D. C.. for their SI,BOO prize oiler. Result. Upon tlielr wheels one day they met; They wheeled into a marriage; She gave it up; he's wheeling yet- But now a baby carriage. | j—To Date. Durlng the QuurroL lie—l confess that Ido not compre hend yon. She (frigidly)—l thought I had made myself perfectly plain. He—Ah! But 3 011 couldn't do that, Alice. lteconciliation follows. —St. Louis He public. Brought to Titue. Dentist's Daughter (who hears her fat her approaching)—Oh, dear Edwnrtl, here comets my father! If he should find us together here we are lost! Oh, he is coming! You will have either to aslc for my hand, or let him pull out a tooth for you.—Tit-Bits. Tho Pity of it. ' First Swell—There goes Miller,jtlic richest liinn in town. W hat a pity tin old man has no daughter! Don't you think so? Second Swell— l don't know. Why? First Swell—Because she would make such a good wife for me.—Texas Sifter. Arithmetical. Mike—And do yez see Mr. Peek's four noble children? Put—How do yez know they be Mr. Peck's child tjpn? Mike—Sure, and don't yez know that four small measures make a peck?— Demorest's Magazine. Two lCxtremes. Johnny Smart—What does * b-l-e-r spell? Old Smart—That depends, my (BOH, on who is spelling it. If it is a (icrman it is about the first thing that he. wants; if it's an Englishman it's the lust thing he wants. —Philadelphia Item., If you are not already a sub scriber to the TRIBUTE become one. CET THE BEST When you arc about to buy a Sewing Machine do n< bo deceived by alluring advertisements and be led to think you can get tho best made, i finest finished and Most Popular I for a mere song. See to it that HzjjjA I ' is easiest to manage and is \f ? \ Light Running There is licnc in the world that fpfislTTjcm strurtn.n, durability of working w/oft part iii.i of finish, beauty ! improvements as l-iau NEW HOME It has Automatic Tension. Double Feed, alike on both sides of nw-oie 1 f-tttented) y no other has it: New Stand ( patents . drivin wheel hinged on ndju.'.able centers, fchus reducing friction to ! the minimum. WRBTE FOR CIRCULARS. 1 THE HEW HOME SEWING MACHINE CO. j O&AMOB, M MAS* N. Y E. ALE B Y D. S. Evving, general agent, 1127 Chestnut street, Pbila., Pa. ails you? I Ms? axsij I HI mK S Heartburn—Bad Taste in the Mouth/ in the Morning Palpitation of the? Ileari, due i" Hisi-nsioti of Stomach c Cankered Mouth Gas in the Bowels/ I 1 —Loss di" Flesh Fickle Appetite S Depressed, Irritable Condition of the s p Mind Dizziuess -Ilvatlachc -Con- > 1/ stipation or Diarrhaa? Then you have \ < DYSPEPSIA { ?In r.ne of Its many forms. The one positive I J en to tin this distressing complaint Is v Jeter's Dyspepsia Cablets ( C l>v until, prepaid, on receipt of cents. C \ckcr MIL Untie Co. KI-TH Clin inkers St., N. Y. J j Scientific American | TRADEMARKS, fiJS-r CriSION PATENTS, COPVRICHTS, etc. For information and fiv* Handbook write to MIXN X CO., :Wl lata*.'WAY. Nuw Ykk. Oldest, buivuu for securing potent* in America. Mvcry patent taken out by n .s brought be fori) the public by a notice give 11 free vlchurgo iu tho f miiiik j|wmnw Largest circulation of any scientific paper tn tho world, splendidly Illustrated. .No Intelligent mail should In- without it. Week l\, rJi.OU v year; sl.v- si v months. Address, Ai l JNN ',v CO,, VUULISUEUS, ;itit Broadway, New YUNFC City. | ("aveats.and Trade-Marks and all Pat- J 1 #'Cnt business conducted for MODERATE Fees. * 0 Oun OFFICE IS OPPOSITE U.S. OFFICE 0 1 4 1 ind we can secure patent m less those J V .emote from Washington. * # *etid model, drawing or photo., with descrip- 0 £tion. Wc advise, if patentable or notjree of? ! Our fee not due till patent is secured. 0 £ A PAMPHLET, "HOW to Oliksn I'atcnfe,'' with 0 of same iu the U. S. ami foreign countries J . a sent free. Address, 0 IjrC.A.SNOW&CO.j j OPP. PATENT OFFICE, WASHINGTON. D. C.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers