Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, May 31, 1897, Image 2

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    It is estimated that the cost of ves
sels now being built at lake ship yards
is about §3,000,000, as compared with
§9,000,000 a year ago.
According to the statistics of the
Weather Bureau, the property loss
from tornadoes during the last ten
years has been live times as great in
Missouri as in any other State.
Greece has only 2,200,000 inhabi
tants, but every man of them is ready
to fight like sixty. Her area is only
hall a great as that of the State of New
York, but every acre of it is dedicated
to the cause oi liberty and civiliza
tion.
That the gentler sex is fast becom
ing emancipated is shown by the iact
that in 1896 there were in the United
States 32 women woodchoppers, 147
bartenders, 24 hostlers, 29 sailors. 4
locomotive engineers, 28 plasterers,
59 blacksmiths and (J boiler makers.
A great emigration movement of
Russian Jews from the Vistula
provinces to Africa is taking place at
present. Tuo movement has reached
such proportions in several districts
of these provinces that the JewisH
male population is greatly diminished
and business in shops is principally
carried on by women.
Rev. Miles Grant, of Boston, thinks
he has solved the problem of living.
He is a strict vegetarian, aud never
uses meat, pies, cakes, tea, coflee,
sugar, salt or spices. His daily food
is unleavened graham bread, vege
tables, cheese and milk, and he says
that he lives well at a cost of eighty
seven cents a week, the result being
that he is healthy and strong.
Of the §200,000,000 war indemnitv
which Japan is to receive from China
it is expected that nearly eighty per
cent, will be expended in naval con
struction. Jt is therefore in order,
declures the New York Mail and Ex
press, to ascertaiu what portion of
this vast sum can be acquired by tho
enterprise of American shipbuilders,
steel forgers, guu makers and com-
petitors in other mechanical indus
tries. A country with that amount of
money to spend deserves to be looked
after by American manufacturers who
have things to sell.
Modern science is beginning to
throw all the tales of Munchausen in
to the shade. There is a rumor that
I'rofessor MacKendnck, of Glasgow,
has succeeded in devising an appar
atus which will enable the deaf and
dumb to hear operas. He uses tele
phones connected with the stage at
one end, and at the other with vessols
filled with a saline solution,into which
the deaf insert their hands. No
sooner havo they done so than their
faces are illuminated with tho joy of a
new sensation. They can hear tho
singers and the orchestra distinctly.
This sounds "American," as foreigners
say, but after the Roentgen rays and
kinetoscope everything seems possible.
Naturalists believe that insects have
senses utterly different from ours, and
it is not impossible that with the aid
of electricity and Roentgen rays man
may practically acquire a new sense or
power to perceive the unseen world.
There have been printed recently
pome astonishing facts about the abau- '
cloned farm lands of England. Some
of these farm?, although within an
hour or two of London city, go beg
ging for tenants. Earl Darrington,
who has for many years owned 23,000
acres of land iu Bucks and Lincomhiro
counties and whose every dollar is in
vested in agriculture, says the de
pression of tho industry in England
has been largely due to the extrava
gance aud bad management of the land
lords themselves—keeping up costly
country houses, and neglecting repairs
and improvements, piling up mort
gages, driving away tenants, etc.
When he took charge of his estates,
they were burdened with a dobt of
§2,000,000. lie disposed of the great
country house, with its tremendous
expenses, repaired the buildings on all
the furms, lowered rates one-third, and
encouraged tenants to work small plots
of land. In spite of almost constantly
decreasing prices of fnrm products,
during tho past twenty years he has
by this means paid all but one-tenth
of the original debt, and yet bis estates
are not as well situated as regards
markets as are many farms near Lou
don that are practically abandoned.
While conditions are entirely different
in America, it is truo that thousands
of farmers in this country have, on a
smaller soa'le, by prudent management,
paid for their farms and are to-day
comfortably welt lixed, as the result
of good farming and good business
methods during the past ten or twenty
years of increasing competition, lower
prices and readjust meat of rapidly
% Uangiug conditions.
SOME DAY.
In the Somewhere region that's ever bright,
In the glow of the Someday sun,
Ls a castle thnt rears its columned height
Where the mirroring waters run:
Where the tranquil moments like music flow
To answer each longiugthe heart can know.
And the air grows sweet with the gentle sigh
Of the roses kissed as the zephyrs fly.
Like the fabled tokens of magic's power
It rises, as swift as thought.
From the wilfulness of an idle hour
Are its dazzling sr lenders wrought.
But alus, to dust are its glories fluug,
By the passing jest of an idle tougue!
They are gone, those beauties of form and
hue
That were built of the things you meant to
do.
There's another place where the roses are,
Though it boasts no arch nor spire;
It rests to the hitherward, by far,
Of the land of the Heart's Desire.
'Tis built of the things that you've really
done,
And the hours smile back at the gliding sun,
And you love it well—though you sigh anew
For the House of the Things You Meant To
Do.
—Washington Star,
MAGGIE'S "BRACELET.
ff OU'RE the most
punctual girl alive,
Maggie; and how
sweet you look!"
Lady Carcw snr
voyed her cousin's
SfoXw **£ ure ft PP r ovinglv, as
Wr Fawcett's maid
put the last touches
if to her toilet.
V! "Do you really like
me?" and Maggie Fawcett turned
slowly round that no item of her dainty
bail gown might be lost.
"My dear, you'll be the success of
the evening; and ob.wbat an exquisite
bangle that is?" and, with an exclama
tion of delight, Lady Carew caught her
cousin's wrist, on whioj glittered a
magnificent bracelet set with diamonds ■
and emeralds. "Surely that's new,
isu't it? It wasn't a wedding present,
was it?"
Mrs. Fawcctt flushed nervously.
"No; you haven't seen it before—l
only had it yesterday."
"You lucky creature, to get promis
cuous presents like that! Who gave
it you?"
The flush on Maggie's cheek deep
ened. "Eric, of course," she replied,
with a laugh. "He spoils me dread
fully, you know."
Lady Carew's lips quivered into an
indefinable expression.
"My dear," she answered, smiling,
"beware of a husband's unprovoked
presents."
"What do you mean?" asked Maggie
quickly.
"Only that their source is more of
ten a guilty conscience than an over
flowing affection."
"Laura, why will you say such
things? Come, the carriage is ready."
"So am 1 ; but isn't Eric coming?''
"Not with us ; he was lunching with
the Delawarcs, and sent over for his
things. Ho will go with them, and ho
goes back there to sleep."
The two women took their places in
the snug brougham. It was a fairly
long drive to Treloar Hall, where the
Darshire Hunt Ball was to take place ;
but there was absoiuto silence in the
carriage, partly because, as cousins
and intimate friends, there was no
necessity for conversation between its
occupants.
Maggie Fawcett's appearance at the
Hunt Ball was something of an event.
She was the bride of the occasion.
Early in the spring she had married
Eric Fawcett, and ihis was the first
winter she had spent on his estate in
Darshire.
Now and again Lady Carew glanced
at her cousin. Maggie leaned back in
her corner, the white fur of her wrap
nestling iound her throat, and her
small head resting against the eushious
of the carriage. It struck her com
panion that the young wife's face was
a little pale, and that is wore a look of
| suppressed excitement, mingled with
I something which seemed almost like
anxiety, "What can bo the matter
with the girl?" murmured Ladv Carew
to] herself. "She it evidently dis
turbed about something. Ilow she
plays with that bracelet 1 I wonder—
but, no 1 Maggie is the host little
soul alive; and, besides, there isn't an
eligible man within a dozen miles.
Still, I never should have expected
Eric Fawcett to have turned out a
model husbandaud bhe laughed
softly to herself.
Laura Carew was a good six years
older than her o.oudn, aud she remem
bered very distinctly that at the same
ball last year before Maggie had flashed
upon his firmament, Eric Fawcett had
been her very devoted slave, and natu
rally she smiled at the recollection —a
little pityingly, perhaps, for Lady
Carcw could not quite understand an
admiror deserting her for Maggie ; and
though she was fond of her cousin, she
was rather sorry for Eric. Women
generally are sorry for the men who
marry some one else.
But, in spito of Lady Carew's mod
erate estimate of Maggie's powers of
attraction, ber card was full before she
had been in the room ten minutes—as
full, that is, as she would allow it to
be ; for she valiantly resisted all efforts
to till up two spaces which she insisted
on preserving.
She was standing by her husband in
the midst of a group of people. She
put her hand gently on his arm.
"Erio," she whispered, "I've kept
you two waltzes."
"Two!" and ho laughed as ho looked
dowu at her. "Why, littlo woman,
we can't dance together twice—it
would be ridiculous! Here, I'll tako
this one. I don't suppose you'll have
uuy difficulty in filling in the other ;
you're looking very pretty to-night.
J must go, dear; this is my dance with
Laura."
Maggie Fawcett bit lier lips. She
wouldn't have minded people setnng
that she was in love with her husband,
and that she thought him the hand
somest man in the room; but men
were different—very different—and
her heart swelled as a rusn of mem
ories come upon her. She answered
her partner's not very abtrnse re
marks mechanically. Jt was doubtless
bad form, but her eyes sought her
husbaud'a figure; he was waltzing
with Laura—it seemed to her that he
was always waltzing with Laura. But,
then, perhaps, Eric might bethinking
the same thing of her, for she had
certainly da..eed a great many times
with thi9 Mr. Dobson Dodson—she
was not at all sure of his name, aud
she really did not care at all who was
her partner. The Darshire Hunt Ball
was not amusing, she thought, and it
was a little embarrassing that so many
people noticed and admired her ban
gle ; she touched it doubtfully, twist
ing it on her arm so that the diamonds
flashed iu her eyes. It was very
pretty, but
"Maggie seems to be putting in a
very good time to-uigbt," observed
Lady Carew as she strolled into the
conservatory with Eric Fawcett;
"she appears to be enjoying herself
tremendously."
"Not half as much as I am," replied
Eric, with a laugb. "It is quite like
old times, isn't it?" he added, draw
ing a low seat forward for his com
panion,
"Ob, my dear Eric, don't try to be
sentimental! But really, I begin to
think my warning to Maggie was not
uncalled" -
"Eh! what warning?"
"Well, it rather seems to me thnt
the old Adam is returning, my friend ;
that domestic joys are pailing, and
forbidden fruit is becoming terribly
aitrnctive."
"ls that a challenge?"
"Not at all; besides, Maggie is my
cousin and my friend, and I think it
right to warn her."
"Are you in fun or in earnest?
Wnat do you mean by warning her?"
Lady Carew broko into a laugh.
"Only that I told her to beware of
a husbaud'a presents—that a magnifi
cent diamond and emerald bracelet
often meant more than met the eye."
"Really, I haven't the smallest idea
of what you mean !"
"Mean? Why, the lovely bangle
yo>i gave her yesterday !"
"I gave Maggie a bangle yester
day?"
"Certainly. She is wearing it to
night."
"You must be dreaming!"
Lady Carew looked into her com
panion's face with Irauk astonishment.
"i am very sorrv," she said quietly.
"1 am afraid I have been indiscreet;
but bow was I to guess?—oh, what are
you going to do?"
For at that moment Mrs. Fawcett
entered tho conservatory on the arm
of her partner, aud Eric immediately
rose to his feet. Laura caught his
arm.
"Eric, don't bo ridiculous, it is
so tuo absurd mistake! I'll tuke that
mau away. Speak to Maggie, but for
Heaven's sake don't look like that!"
But, in spite of Lady Carew's ef
forts, it was not so easy to "take that
man away ;" and while the futile, friy
olous consternation rippled on, Eric
stood by, bewildered, and stunned.
Maggie, the soul of truth and sim
plicity, had told a lie. There was not
tho faintest doubt that Loura had
spoken the truth, and spoken it with
out arriere-pensee. The stones of the
mysterious bracelet glittered mali
ciously before his eyes, and yet, had not
his attention been drawn to it, most
probably he would not have noticed it.
The details of any other woman's dress
were always more obvious to Eric
than those of his wife's, and Maggie
might have presumed on that.
But, Maggie ! —he was very much in
love with her when he married her,
but be was uncomfortably conscious
that he had paid very little attention
to her of lute. But then, Maggie—
who would have dreamed—
At last the music struck up, aud
Lady Carew led oil the intruder, hav
iug succeeded in persuading hira that
his calculations were out, and that it
was precisely this dance she had given
him.
Maggie rose, too, but her husband
laid bis hand on her arm.
"No; stay here, I want to speak to
you."
"But—"
"J can't help engagements or any
thing else. 1 must speak to you
now."
"What is it?" asked Maggie, looking
up at him "Why, Eric, what is the
matter?"
"I wish to know who gave you this
bangle."
The color flew over Maggie's throat
aud face and her lips trembled.
"I—l can't tell you."
"So I suppose, or you wouldn't have
lied to Laura Carew about it."
"Eric 1"
Thero was something so pathetic
about the girl's expression as his name
burst from her lips—she looked so
childish, so helpless and so miserable
—that tho auger in Eric's heart died
Middcnly. A whole world of thoughts
surged up iu his mind. Why had ho
left this child so lonely? The fault
was his. "Maggie, dear," ho said
• gently, "I know I've not been as I
| ought to tho best little wife iu the
world. I'vo set you a bad example,
and yon are so young you don't un
derstand thines—you don't know what
men are; you've been a little foolish,
peil.aps, but that's all, I'm sure—do
you hear, dear?—l'm quite sure of
that. But you must tell me the story
of that baugle."
"I—oh, Eric, I'm ashamed 1" and
she turned her face away.
"Tell ine, dear."
Thero was a moment's pause.
"Well, then, I bought it myself!"
"Maggie!"
"Yes. Oh, don't think I. want, to
bluine you, Eric, but the other women
T know wero always having presents
from their husbands—flowers and
sweets and trinkets—and so as you—
as you did not think of them, I bought
them myself and said you'd given them
to me—"
Eric held her at arm's length. She
raised her face suddenly and looked at
him.
"I wanted people to think you
spoilt me —that you were in love with
me still."
Eric Fawcett did not return to the
Delawares, and a couple of days later
the diamond and emerald bangle had
a companion, which was clasped on
Maggie's arm by her husband himself.
—London World.
About the Spices.
Jamaica has the allspice which gets
the credit of taking the place of many
different spices; South America re
joices iu the chile, which is used in
great quantities. Cinnamon, a small
portion of which was once held a
present, which kings wero glad to re
ceive, is a native of Ceylon and has
been known from the most remote
time. It was first carried to Europe
by the Arabs. Cassia bark is a rela
tive of cinnamon, and is prized for
flavoring liquors aud chocolate. The
Malabar coast of ludia furnishes the
natives with cardamom, and mustard
cornea from the East Indies.
The Spice Islands have given the
world few things more popular than
the dried buds of a and
dried in the sun, named in Latin,
from their resemblance to a nail,
clavus, and called by us cloves. In
the same group of islands a ST.nll col
lection 01 islands are planted entirely
in nutmeg trees. Caraway comes from
the northern aud central parts of Eu
rope and Asia, is used as flavoring in
cooking and drinks, in cheese, cakes
and bread. Sweet marjoram, native
to Portugal, and capers originally
grew wild in Greece and Northern
Africa. Asafoetida, which has an un
savory reputation among us, is highly
prized as a condiment in Persia and
India and is used iu France.
Sugar, which we class among the
indispeusables, was wholly unknown
among the aucient nations, and for
that reason they used honey as we use
sugar. Honey was therefore a very
important article of diet. Salt was
almost entirely produced by evapora
tion of sea water. If the entire ocean
wero dried up it would yield 110 leas
than 4,419,300 cubic miles of rock salt,
or about fourteen and one-half times
tho entire bulk of Europe above high
watermark, mountains and all. Eva
poration is still practiced on the sea
board, Portugal produces annually
350,000 tons; Spuin, '200,000 tons;
Italy, 105,000 tons; Austria, 100,000
tous.
Salaries of tlie Church ot England.
As matters now stand, it costs a
pretty penny to maintain the pomp of
that church of which "the Queen is
the supreme governor on earth."
The salary of the Primate (Arch
bishop of Canterbury) is the goodly
sum of §75,000 per annum, punctually
paid. Tho Archbishop of York has
§50,000; the Bishop of London,
§50,000; the Bishop of Durham, $35,-
000; the Bishop of Winchester, $32,-
500; the Bishop of Bangor, $21,000;
tho Bishop of Bath and Wells, $25,-
000; the Bishop of Ely, $27,500; of
Gloucester, $25,000; of Chester, $21,-
000; of Exeter, $21,000; of Here
ford, Lichfield, Liverpool, LlandafF,
Manchester, Ripon, St. Asaph, $21,000
each; of Carlisle, Lincoln, Norwich,
Peterborough, St. Davids,s22,sooeach ;
Oxford, Salisbury, Worcester, $25,000
each; Newcastle, $10,000; Rochester,
$19,000; St. Albans, $16,000; Sodor
and Man, $9,000; Southwell, $17,500;
Truro, $15,000; Wakefield, $15,000;
and then think of the army of deans.
Bishops suffragan, canons, etc., and
infer that the Church of England
is an expensive institution, represent
ing a very high average of cost for
each soul brought to grace.—Chicago
Times-Herald.
A Husband's Dilemma.
He had bought himself a fashionable
pair of trousers. On trying them on,
thoy proved to be considerably too
long; so be took the trcusers to his
wife, and asked her to cut off about
two inches and hem them over. The
good lady, who was not very well
pleased with tbe pattern, brusquely
refused. The same result followed au
application to the wile's sister and his
daughter.
But before bedtime the wife, relent
ing, took tho bags, aud, cutting off
two inches from the logs, hemmed
them up nicely, and put them on a
chair. Half an hour later her daugh
ter, seized with compunction for her
unfilial conduct, took the trousers
and, cutting oft* two inches, hemmed
and replaced them. Finally the sister
in-law felt the pangs of conscience,
and she, too, performed an additional
surgical operation 011 the garment.
When ho appeared at breakfast the
next morning those around the table
thought a Highland chieftain had
arrived. —Tit-Bits.
Cruelty to Gold Fish.
It may not be generally known that
there is cruelty iu tho keeping of gold
fish, llalf of such captives die from
sdeer want of rest. As lish have eyes
so formed that they cannot endure tho
light, in a glass vessel they are in an
entirely wrong place, as evident Iroiu
the way iu which they dash about and
go round and round until fairly worn
out.
Used the X ltays.
An English woman recently lost her
ring in some cake she had baked. In
stead of cutting up all the cake to find
it, or running the risk of endanger
ing her family's lives by leaving it to
be swallowed, she put the enke under
1 the X rays and marked tho place
where tho ring was hidden.
CHILDREN'S CORNER.
TIMELY TOPICS FOR OUR BOYS
AND GIRLS.
'"The Stolen Baby," a Pretty Story for
Our Little Reader* A Happy Meeting
—The Millionaire Knew of What Kind
of StulT (iooil Meu Are Made.
fIS sweet to hear
the merry lark.
That bids a
blithe good,
morrow;
But sweeter to
hark, In the
twinkling lark.
To the soothing
song of sorrow.
Oh . nightingale!
What doth she
ail!
And is she sad or jolly?
For ne'er on earth was sound of mirth
So like to melancholy.
The merry lark he soars-on high.
No worldly thought o'ertakes him.
He sings aloud to the clear blue sky,
And the daylight, that awakes him.
As sweet a lay, as loud, as gay,
The nightingale is trilling;
With feeling bliss, no less than his.
Her little heart is thrilling.
Vet ever and anon, a sigh
Peers through her lavish mirth.
For the lark's bold song is of the sky
And hers is of the earth.
By night and day, she tunes her lay.
To drive away all sorrow;
For bliss, alas! to-night must pass,
And woe may come to-morrow.
The Stolen llaby.
One afternoon about sunset, while
May and her little baby brother, Dodo,
were walking in the garden, a woman,
with a dark face and a red handker
chief bound about her head, looked
over the fence and said:
"Little girl, will you give a poor,
woman a drink of water?"
"Yes," said May, "I'll bring you a
glass from the well."
Seating Dodo on the soft gras3, she j
darted away to the well at the back of i
the house, and flew back with the ;
water, but the glass fell from her hand
and lay shattered at her feet, for the
gate stood open, and both Dodo and
the woman were gone. .One glance up
and down the shady road, and May
scrambled over the bars of the oppo
site field, for she caught sight of a
red handkerchief at the farther side,
and saw the woman walking away
with a great bundle over her back.
"She has stolen Dodo," thought May
in terror, "but she shall not get off
with him. I will never lose sight of
the wicked woman until she gives me
back my Dodo," and on she sped in hot
pursuit, tears pouring down her
cheeks.
May followed the woman down into
a great common, where she saw a mot
ley crowd of men, women, children and
dogs. Trembling from head to foot,
she watched the woman make her way
to a covered wagon, and lift the baby
from her back. May slipped from one
tree to another, until she stood so close j
to the wagon that she could almost
touch it. The baby was crying.
"Stop that, or I'll slap you," said the
woman, fiercely. But though the baby
screamed louder than ever, the woman
did not carry out her threat, but called
out: "Shut up your eyes and go to
sleep," as she walked away.
As soon as she was left alone. May
slipped from her hiding place and
climbed up on the wheel of the wagon
and peeped in. It was too dark to see
now, so she put her hands In and felt
around. Presently they were seized by
two chubby fists.
"Oh, Dodo! Darling little Dodo,"
whispered May.
"Do-do," repeated the baby.
"Why, I never heard him say that
before," thought May, hugging and
kissing him rapturously.
May looked behind her apprehens
ively, but there was no one in sight, so
she gently put his arms around her
neck.
"Now, Dodo," she whispered, "hold
on tight, and we'll get away from this
dreadful place as soou as ever we can."
"Do-do," squealed the baby at the top
of his small voice, and he squeezed her
so tightly that it almost took her
breath away."
"He don't act like himself. He's been
frightened, and. oh! how heavy he is,"
thought May, as she sprang down from
the wheel on which she had been
standing.
Dodo's weight caused her to fall,
but as baby was not hurt she seized
his hand and hurried toward the trees
and bushes, keeping her eyes upon the
group of people. Near the hill she
heard terrified screams from the gypsy
camp.
"Do-do!" screamed the baby.
As his voice rang out on the quiet air,
May heard the crash of heavy steps be
hind her. Snatching up the child, she
ran, for fright gave her strength,' and
she never stopped until she reached
the porch of her own house, and
dropped him in his mother's lap, cry
ing:
"Hide him, quick; they are after
him!"
"Why, May," cried her mother,
"what is the matter, and who is this
dirty little child?"
"Don't you see? It's Dodo," said
May. "The gypsy carried him away
and put him in her wagon; but I fol
lowed and got him back. She has
changed his clothes and painted him
gypsy color, as they always do in the
stories: but when you've washed it off
i gu%ss he will look like Dodo again."
"My dear May," said her mother,
"when you left your brother 011 the
grass while you ran for water for the
gypsy woman, I went and brought him
in. He Is now asleep in his crib. I
am afraid you have been stealing a
baby yourself."
She carried the child Into the house,
and looked at it by the light of the
lamp. "Yes, this is the gypsy woman's
baby," she Raid. "Did you not see she
had one under her cloak:"
, As she spoke feet were heard on the
porch. In at the window sprang May's
gypsy woman, crying:
"Here he Is! Here i 3 my Romany
boy! Were the ladles crazy to think
they could steal my Romany boy?"
and she snatched him to her bosom.
Other dark eyes glanced in at the
window.
May's mother tried to explain, but
the gyspy only scowled. Then the lady
tried another plan. She laid two big
silver dollars in the baby's grimy
palm. On this the gypsy showed her
white teeth In a smile. The crowd at
the window smiled also, and they all
went away laughing and singing and
carrying their treasure with them.
Then May began to cry.
"I'm so ashamed of myself," she said.
"Ah! but I am proud of you," said
her mother. "Even if you did make
a mistake, you are a brave little darl
ing."
Then May wa3 comforted. —New
York Ledger.
A Happy Mci-tlnß.
A most touching scene was witnessed
In the streets of Paris recently. A lit
tle girl of about five years of age was
rolling her hoop; the hoop rolled up
against a gentleman sitting on a
bench, and the child, going up to him
to get it, looked at him involuntarily,
and suddenly cried out: "Oh, if there
isn't the gentleman of mamma's minia
ture!" This exclamation, of course, at
tracted the attention of passers-by,
and a young woman, who immgdiately
came up to the chi'ld, and, giving a
glance at the gentleman, fainted away.
He appeared stupefied, and stared from
the child to her mother as if he were
losing his senses; but when he saw the
latter fainting on the ground, he
caught her up, clasped her in his arms,
and covered her with kisses. She soon
regained her senses, and fell weeping
on the gentleman's bosom. An officer,
coming up, led them off, with the little
girl, and, calling a carriage, put them
in; but the bystanders had already
learned their history from their dif
ferent exclamations. Five years be
fore they were married, with every
prospect of happiness before them; but
the husband, being young, was led
astray by dissipated associates, and,
becoming jealous of his wife, treated
her so unkindly that she finally left
him, and took an humble lodging in
a different quarter of the city, where
she soon after gave birth to a little
daughter, and since that time had sup
ported herself and child by her needle.
The husband had sought his wife in
vain, and had at last come to the sad
conclusion that she had put an end to
her existence. This thought had such
an effect upon his mind as to cure him,
not only of his jealousy, but of his
vice 3, and he had since been living a
most exemplary life, consecrating all
his thoughts to the memory of his lost
wife.
The Millionaire uiul His Clerk.
Olrard, the infidel millionaire of
Philadelphia, one Saturday ordered all
his clerks to come on the morrow to
his wharf and help unload a newly ar
rived ship. One young man replied
quietly:
"Mr. Girard, I can't work on Sun
days."
"You know our rules."
"Yes, I know. I have a mother to
support, but I can't work on Sun
days."
"Well, step up to the desk and the
cashier will settle with you."
For three weeks the young man
could find no work, but one day a bank
er came to Girard to ask if he could
recommend a man for cashier in a new
bank. This discharged young man
was at once named as a suitable per
son.
"But," said the banker, "you dis
missed him."
"Yes, because he would not work on
Sundays. A man who would lose his
place for conscience's sake would make
a trustworthy cashier." And he was
appointed.
Tlic Safety of the l'uhllc.
When a corporation acquires the
right to build and manage a rapid
transit line of any sort, kind or de
scription, it takes upon itself, with
such acquiring, certain responsibilities.
The plant is valuable, and the profits
are, as a rule, large.
Of course, these profits come largely
from the patronage of the persons liv
ing along the line of the road. That a
corporation or company cannot con
duct such business without giving due
regard to the safety of the public is a
self-evident fact. They are in duty
bound to provide every reasonable ap
pliance required to prevent injury to
those who have occasion to cross the
lines they operate. If these lines run
through a populous city, the danger
to the public and the responsibility of
the company are greatly augmented.
Queer Conduct of a Tree.
From the Spokane Spokesman-Re
view: An unusual incident occurred
in the timber near Fossil, Ore., the
other day. Beaber and French sawed
through a tree measuring thirteen feet
in circumference, and though they
sawed until the teeth of the saw came
through on the opposite side, though
the tree top was free from all support,
though they pried and chopped and
wondered and talked, still that tree
stood there, and still the saw remained
pinched in so tightly that It could not
be moved. At last they were obliged
to go home, leaving the tree standing
on its stump. Next day the tree was
down. It had apparently sprung or
slid from the stump, striking perpen
dicularly in the sandy soil at first, mak
ing a hole five feet deep and as far
across.
A Buffalo firm is now turning out
what is claimed to be an absolutely
fireproof wood. It is red birch treated
by some secret process.
CLOSE TO NINETY.
John Howard Bryant, an only surviving
brother ot William Cullen Bryant, aged
about ninety years, resides in Princeton, ill.
The Rochester (N. Y.) Times says of himi
He is unknown to fame, but not for waut ol
native,ability which, judging from the fol
lowing freshly-written gem, might have in ml;
him as illustrious as his brother. The lines
are entitled, "Close to Ninety." and were
evoked by the action of a Bellefontaine
(Ohio) Bryant literary society in making him
an honorary member:
Here now I stand, upon life's outer verge,
Close at my feet an ocean wide and deep,
Dark, sullen, silent, and without a surge,
Where earth's past myriads lie in dream
less sleep,
'Tls here I stand without a thrill ot fear,
In loneliness allied to the sublime;
The broken links of love that bound me
here,
Lie shattered on this treacherous shoal ol
time.
But still I cling to friends who yet remniu,
Cling to the glorious scenes that round me
lie,
Striving to stay the haste ot years ia vain
As swifter yet the wingod moments lly.
Idly, I seek the future to explore,
I partly know what is, but naught that is
before.
—John Howard Bryant.
HUMOR OF THE HAY.
He—"Her faoe is her fortune." Sho
•—"Then she is a self-made womou."
Yale Record.
Edith—"Did he whisper sweet noth
ings when he proposed?" Ethel—"Oh,
yes!—swore he'd be ever true, and all
that."—Pnok.
Young Solicitor—"Make yourself
easy, my dear sir; the sncoessful man
agement of your case shall be the task
of my life."—Tit-Bits.
"What is (pronunciation, Unole
lim?" "It is something you hunt up
in a dictionary one day and forget the
next."—Chicago Record.
Ada—"Which was the most serious
engagement Captain Slasher was ever
in?" Jack—"The one that led to his
marriage, I presume."—Larks.
"Now, they speak of hsr as an up
to-date girl. What do you understaud
by that?" "My boy, a giri that is up
to-date is up to anything."—Pack.
Mrs. Gray—"Do you like steam
heat?" Mrs. Brown—"Really, I don't
know. You see, we onlv have steam
cold in our flat."—Boston Transcript.
"Spring is here," the poet said,
Aud as the storm door hitched its belt,
And slammed bim down ten (lights of stairs,
The force of bis remark be felt!
—Cincinnati Tribune.
A sportive youth will feel compli
mented if you oall him "a gay young
dog," but not if you refer to him as
"a fresh young puppy."—Philadelphia
Record.
Dorothea—"There goes .Tack with
his wealthy bride, girls." Theodosia
—"Yes; aren't men fickle? To think
that only last summer he was engaged
to us!"— Truth.
First Artist (patronizingly)—" Van
Dike is a good fellow, but he never
will be a finished painter." Second
Artist—"No ; all of his figures are en
tirely too life-like."—Judge.
There are over sixty millions of peo
ple in this country, and at least fifty
millions of them have been cured of
something at one time or another.—
West Union (Iowa) Gazette.
Cnmso—"Why don't Mr. Gilgaland
Miss Perkasie get marriod?" Cawker
—"Shyness on both sides." "How do
you make that out?" "She is a shy
little thing by nature and he is shy of
cash."
"Do you see anything coming our
way?" asked the morning star of a
companion. "Not yet," was the re
ply ; "but I see a servant below there
who is abont to light her kitchen firo
with kerosene."
"That Willie Feathers is the moHt
impudent man I ever met." "Really?"
"He is. I told him I had never been
kissed by a man in all my life, and he
said 'I can well believe you.' "—Cin
cinnati Enquirer.
Tommy—"Paw, what is adding in
sult to injury ?" Mr. Figg—"Well, 1
once had a dentist at work on my teeth
for half a day, and when ho got
through be said he hoped I had a
pleasant time."—lndianapolis Jour
nal.
She—"You are always talking about
the fashions. Now, honestly, do you
think you would know the latest fash
ion in hats if you were to enter o mil
liner's?" He—"Certainly." She—
"How?" He (ruefully) —"By looking
at the prices."—Comic Opts.
The theosophist gazed at the op
posite wall with a far away smile. "We
beoome what we eat," she murmured.
"That is a great truth." "Great Je
hosophat I" exclaimed a voice in the
corner ; "what kind of a menagerie do
I become when I eat hash?"— Was
hington Capital.
Chnmpley—"That hypnotist is a
fraud. He couldn't coutrol ray mind
at all last night." Pokley—"Ol
coarse, he had some excuse." Chump
ley—"Yes, he said there was no ma
terial to work on. Yon ought to havo
heard the audience give him the
laugh."—Detroit Free Press.
Making an Artificial Skin.
A process has been patented in Ger
many for making a substitute for the
natural skin for use in wounds. The
muscular coating of the intestines ol
animals is divested of mucous mem
brane and then treated in a pepsin
solution until the muscular fibers are
half digested. After a second treat
ment with tannin and gallio acid n
tissno is produced which take the
place of the natural skin, and which,
when laid on the wound, is entirely
absorbed daring the healing process.
Eiiropcau Population.
Europe has inoreased its population
by sixty-two per cent, within the last
sixty-two years, but in tho same time
| 30,00,000 of its inhabitants have emi
grated to other countries.