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