M&is? THE MAN WHO HOLDS HIS TONGUE. The m:in who is ready to cjive bis all For what lie thinks*is riht, Who shoulders his gun nud answers the call When his country has battles to fight, Is a horo and merits a hero's reward. His praise should be earnestly sung; But another who shiues iu the sight of the Lord Is the man who can hold his tongue. The man with tho silvery voles who can win For the cause that Is just in debate, Atul the man who sees danger yet bravely goes In While others in agony wait, Are men who invoke tho world's wonder Their praises are earnestly sung; But the bravest of mortals that I over saw, Was a man who could hold his tongue. Weave chnplots for those who have won in tlie fray— Who have struck that tho slave may be free; For the men who brush old superstitions away, And for those who are heroes at sea; But there is another who merits a place Among peopie whose praises are sung— The heartbroken man with a smile ou his face, Who can suffer and hold his tongue! —S. I!, lviser, iu Cleveland Leader, 0D03DD03003300003D3D000000 g ROGERS' SCOOP. § G333003333C033300000C35000 . [ ,-s i \ 11 EN ' Rogers) I VsT \A / "wolked into the I V U City Editor's room i /' /i | and asked for a j /-fl LRrU 3 ob > "doing any- OJ i f I [W" thing," the latter W aM ! official looked up IjW Y) ' ' -V from the bundle of °° liy hB wts I Vvffl Vi editing and stared 1 V A ya/f at the youth. -1/ 4F | •"** Bogers wasn't B ) I 1 much to look at. J O Jf He was a tall, ' lank, ungainly chap, whose only recommendation, facially at least, was the possession of a pair of frank, truthful brown eyes. "He must he reliable," thought the City Editor, and as for a job being open, there was one. It was reper torial— "general assignments"—and such an one as any young fellow with keenness, aud a nose for news, might hold successfully and easily. " "So the-City Editor said, "What can you do?" I've done reporting iu San Fran cisco, aud Denver, aud Omaha aud Chicago," answered Bogers, "aud I guess I could do the same here. I like tho East better than the West; that's why I'm working through it. I hope some day to settle down iu Bos ton, where I was born aud where I lived until I was fifteen." "Well," said the City Editor, "I guess I can find a placo for you." Those frank, truthful, brown eyes had done it. And he led Rogers into the local room, and, pointing out a table, said, "You cau sit there for the present; until I cau find some other place for you." Rogers followed the City Editor back iuto the letter's office and, with tears in his eyes almost, thanked him for the position, even though the ac companying salary was small. The young man cleared off nil the refuse paper that littered tho desk he had been assigned to, and with his handkerchief dusted the legs of the chair that stood before it. This done, he asked tho City Editor if there would he anything that day. Ho was sent out to look up a street car accident. He was back from the house of the injured woman within forty-five minutes. He had gotten a good story aud besides, had bad sense enough to secure her picture from her >m. Of course all that pleased the City Editor. Those frank, truthful eyes were reliable, as he had judged them to be at first. That night Bogers was taken up to Clark's dance hall to cover the plumbers' assistants' ball. He wrote the story of tho affair in such away that the City Editor saw fit to run a column of it with illustrations. If any other man on the staff had turned in the matter ho would have hail about two sticks printed, for he would have "covered" the assignment, probably, in the old-time, stereotyped, routine way. After his story of the ball, the City Editor began giving Rogers bigger assignments. Aud they were all taken care of in a manner that so pleased tho City Editor that when Rogers got his envelope at the end of the second week there were four more dollars iu it than ho had expected to find. Rogers hoarded up on Forest ave nue, it seems well to mention at this time, for the girl ho had gotten ac quainted with, some way, lived up on that street also. Rogers used to go around and see her mornings, once iu a while, and every time he had a day off, down the avenue would he trot ta her home. In the evenings of such days Rogers would use the City Edi tor's passes for some theatre or other. In brief Rogers was getting along finely both in the office and at her house, when one nftemocn the City Editor said to him, "Mr. Rogers there's a convention of Congregational ists up in the Forest avenue church. Take care of it, will you? Make ab stracts of the speeches aud if there be one or two of special interest give 'em a column apiece." Rogers said "All right, sir," aud pushed the elevator button. He spent the first hour and a half of the after noon at the church, getting an insight ill"} the workings of the conference. Tit looked at the programme and saw lllat the leading address of the entire meeting was to be given that night by Rev. Samuel F. Davis, on "Some Thoughts Upon Life." Now such an address would bo worth the column the City Editor had spoken of. There conld be no doubt about it. Life is interesting and some thoughts upon it by such a thinker as tha Rev. Mr. Davis would surely he inter esting. But then there was tho girl. The conference cut Rogers out of his usual night off and ho didn't like it. Like a flash an idea came to bim. His father had been a congregational min ister before his death and Rogers had been brought up according to the doc trines of that church. Why couldn't be write his own thoughts and give the Rev. Mr. Davis credit for them. He could. Ho would. And all that afternoon, or what re mained of it, he put iu working up au abstract of a fictitious letter. It was a beautiful piece of work, lofty iu its thought, clear iu its expression, and written in a stylo that Addison could not have surpassed. Rogers smiled as he read it over. When the last "ho said," and tho "in couclusion the rev erend geutloman remarked" had been written, Rogers folded the sheets to gether and placed them in his inside coat pocket. That night he sat with heron tha front porch uutil eleveu o'clock, un til, in fact he saw that the session" of the conference was over. Then he went down to the office. From the programme ho had he worked up a nice little introduction, in the course of which all the minor celebrities iu attendance upon the conference were mentioned, nud then he pasted to the sljeet he had written the first of the K>v. Davis's lecture ou "Some Thoughts Upon Life," and turned tho bundle over to the City Editor. "That will be all to-night, Mr. Rogers," said that official. And Rog ers took his hat and walked down stairs. The City Editor ran every bit of the Rev. Davis's written discourse. He commented upon the beauty of the abstract to the Night Editor, and the Night Editor said, "Pretty blarno good, isn't it?" and then they both congratulated themselves that the office had such a clover chap working for it as Rogers. Rogers came down about 1 o'clock the next morning. Ho had hardly stepped iuto the local room when the City Editor yelled at him. He obeyed tho yell aud entered tho City Editor's offieo. A copy of tho Gazette of that day, the rival morn ing paper, was poked iu his face with a paragraph marked in blue. "Read that," said the City Editor. This is what Rogers read: "At the last session of the Congre gational convention, held iu tho church on Forest avenue last night, tho chairman read a telegram that was received with a shock by the members present. It was to the effect that tho Rev. Samuel F. Davis, who was to have read a paper on "Some Thoughts Upon Life," had died that afternoon at his homo at Rivers Crossing. Though Dr. Davis had not been pres ent at any meeting of the convention, it was thought that he would be able to attend tho last. 'Fitting resolutions were drawn up aud adopted directly after the reading of the telegram by the chairman." Rogers raised his eyes from the paper aud then lowered them slowly until they met those of the City Edi tor. One look was exchanged. Then Rogers laid down the paper, and go ing into the*_local room put on his hat and pushed the elevator boll. Olio second Inter the City Editor heard the iron door close behind him.—Detroit Free Press. Destiny of the Island of IMonte Cristo. The Island of Monto Cristo, made famous by the masterpiece of tho ol der Dumas, has just passed into the liaudsof the Prince of Naples, who will employ it as a reserve for big game huntiug. Last spring it was abundant ly stocked with chamois, and a month ago King Humbert of Italy passed n few days on the island with a hunt iug party. His Majesty distinguished himself with the rifle by getting fifty one head, out of a total bag of seventy chamois. This is a record, the pre vious achievement almost approaching it being a total of forty-four by King Humbert's father, King Victor Em manuel. Ou reaching Rome the King had documents prepared transferring all "titular" rights to tho island to his son, the Crown Princo. It is not likely that the rent roll of the Prince concerning this estate will be very large, for, as in tho days of Edmond Dautes, the inhabitants nre entirely transient, the island being used as a shelter for fishing boats in case of a storm or as a harbor for smugglers. The island is thickly wooded, and there is provided not only magnificent sport, hut it will give tho Princess of Naples nil opportunity of joining her husband without interfering with her yachting excursions. Costly Leathers. The newest leather for poeketbooks, card cases, letter cases aud that sort of thing is [rhinooerous skin. This tans a russet brown and it is finished with a soft surface that has a rich vel vety appearauce. It is a beautiful leather, and besides being the newest it is also the costliest leather used for these purposes; a gold-mouuted pccket book of rhinoceros skin would cost $35. Another", leather new this year in these uses is sea lion. This tans with a hard finish, and is a sort of steel color. Sea lion costs a little rnoro than half as much as rhinoceros. A sea lion pocketbook, gold mounted would coot S2O, the same as one ef elephant skin. —New York Sun. | THE FASHODA AFFAIR. S . $ m Events Leading Up to the Crisis Between Great Britain and France. <0 't\s \/ • *t in the *\ I v 1 Fashoda incident, . /CT\~ I which brought —g-rjt j 1 Great Britain anil t__ —I France to the .—~/. j very verge of war, ■~~yi ! |-i|jw lisa question xSr pTTH | which is purely V !l I I territorial. The _X fj Ijl 1 story of Sudanese ■ v } ) |j| M Kl history leading up iSsSti win to the culmination ji i' at Fashoda is a "!©§io4n - long one, but much of it is • - necessary to n clear understanding of the situation at present. In the Egyptian Sudan, south of Khartum and north of Equatoria, lies the Bahr-el-Ghazal, which jVthe terri tory in dispute. This land was form erly a province of Egypt. In area it is about five times the size of Eng land. It is covered with forests and mountains, nud possesses fine valleys which are subject to inundations. The great river, or Bnhr-el-Ghazal, flows through it, with numerous tribu taries, which form a labyrinth of streams. Fashoda is situated to the north of this labyrinth, on the Nileproper, and commands access to all the streams that feed the Ghazal. It is the capi tal of the Shillik country, and was an nexed to Egypt half a century ago. Sir Samuel Baker, in 1809, conquered tho country as far south as Uganda, and General ("Chinoso") Gordon ap f//t fm J o ' w JIAJOB r. H. MABCIIAND. pointed a governor of the Bnhr-el- Ghazal. When the Egyptians were expelled from the country the French were given a route across the African con tinent connecting their Congo colony in ths west with the French posses sions in the east. The idea of taking this part of tho Sudan grew with the French Government steadily, and took form and substance when in 1894 it negotiated a treaty with Germany con cerning the Cameroons anil Lake Tchad. Britain's treaty with the Congo Free State, negotiated by Lord Kimbcrley a few years ago, was abro gated, and the French were given a free hand in the Bnhr-el-Ghazal. In 1894 tho French Chambervoted SIOO,- 000 for "the formation of a column to s? °° S |OOT 'V^Sy. / 5 A H A R A X W"" ' f DESERT 4 \V CCA *-* )- \sT \, frTinSVCTCp-~->, ■■ , BtßßtTf V\ H f.. OnDURttAN*, Vil-%.7Y. -r/ .Jr •S® / -V. uHAWOIfI K> o^e"o £C -X °>V DAN 0 it\ ¥ O 7 fV( If i-^ i A x \ i' o ■ r r V r - CAPE \ \ r\ - GooD \ Q (Map showing how If France bad held Faslioda she would have had a belt of empire across Africa from the Senegal lllver to the Blue Nile, and would have deleuted Great Britain's "Cape to Cairo" project.] protect French interests in the Upper Übaughi." Au expedition was organ ized, and Colonel Mouteil placed at its head. M. Liotard was appointed Gov ernment Commissioner in the Upper Übanghi province. In January, 1890, Captain Marchand proceeded up the Übanghi to aid Liotard He passed through much danger and hardship and met Liolaril with his forces at Meslxraer-Rek, within easy distance of Fashcda. The rest is soon told. From ar riving nt Fashoda to claiming French d ..-nination was a small step, and it was taken. Once lodged there, the country was apparently in the posses sion of the French. _ When the British forces of General Kitchener arrived they found Mar chaud and his expedition encamped there. The cable reported cordial meetings between the rival forces, but the news, previously sent, of Mar chand's arrival at Fashoda created in tense excitement in London and Paris. The reports received in London wero further to the effect that only the Egyptian flag was raised by Kitchener, and that the British union jack did not figure in tho assumption of con trol. It was also reported that no in dignity was shown the French flag, which Marchandkept unfurled during FASHODA, AS SEES FRO3I THE BLUE NILE. the proceedings, and whose claim of prior occupation involved the dispute between tho two Governments. Great Britain stands united in this matter apd the people are warmly backing up Lord Salisbury's determ ination to hold Fashoda at all haz ards. The words of Sir Michael Hicks-Beach, uttered in a recent speech defines the English attitude. "I hope, trust and bolieve the question is capable of a friendly solu tion, but this country bns put her foot down. If, unhappily, auother view should be taken by Fiance the Queen's ministers know what their duty de mands. " Not loss positive nre tho words'of Lord Rosoberry, who, unlike the con servative Sir Michael, is a former Lib eral Premier. He disposes of the subject by denying to Mr. Marchaud the right to represent the Government of France, suggesting to France that the easiest way out of the difficulty is to repudiate Marchnnd altogether. In all eveuts, there was but one opinion in England, and France must back down or make for war, and Great Britain was ready for either result. The London Saturday Review says: The facts on which the Fashoda dis pute is based are very much deeper than is generally supposed. At first sight it would appear as if the Freucli were grasping nt a shadow aud disre garding the substance in pertinacious ly laying claim to au apparently bar ren aud unproductive spot while neg lecting tho fertile district of Bahr-el- Ghazal. But this is by no means the ease. Fashoda is a point of incalcul able importance to France, and it is correspondingly important that wo should frustrate her designs iu that direction. It is her cherished project to make a railway from east to west of Africa, in order to divide tho continent anil thus prevent tho joining of the two British spheres (north and south) by direct communication. With this ob- ject in viow she has obtained from Meuelek concessions to build a railway right across Abyssinia, the line being already in construction. It is essential to the scheme that this line should bo carried through to Fashoda. But it is equally essential that we should retain Fashoda, both for the prevention of the plan—whioh would be a severe blow to British interests— and for the establishment of that Cape to Cairo communication whioh will give us supremacy in Afrioa. The issues at stake are so vital to both countries that a conflict between them is more serioußly threatened than most people are disposed to think. The Fashoda incident, under these circumstances, becomes specially in teresting, because it is probably the iiual episode in the long struggle be tween England and France for the trade belonging to the great river val leys of the world. Fashoda belongs historically to the great struggle with France which began under William of Orange and was erroneously supposed to cud with the battle of Waterloo. For one hundred and twenty-six years, from IGB9 to 1815 the British were en gaged in seven great wars. Theso wars either began as wars with France or soon became so. There is, there fore, some reason, apart from the folly of kings, which forces the English continually to be in conflict with the French. These wars were caused by the instinct of self-preservation—the strongest instinct of humanity. They were mercantile wars, and the funda mental reason for each of them was that the English were afraid that the French would tako from them the col onies they had, and so close their mar kets; and they also saw a good chance j of enlarging their own markets, first [ at the expense of the French, and lat terly by maintains the "open door." The historic meeting of Kitohoner and Marchand at Faslioda is jiossibly the last occasion on which the French and English will meet for the division of a continent. The result will be the same on the Nile as it was in India when Clive met Dnpleix; in Canada when Wolfe met Moutcalm; in Australia when Governor Philip was enabled to lay the foundations of a great English nation in consequence of the wreck of the French expedition under La Ferouse; at Trafalgar when Nelson met Villeneuve, a<d gave to the British eighty years' start in the race for trade and empire; and lastly, in Cairo when Lord Cromer, in the teeth of fifteen years of almost intolerable provoca tion from successive French residents, founded an Egyptian empire, over which our flag will float as long as it floats over tlio Tower of Loudon. The meeting of the Sirdar and Mar chaud has done credit to both. Lord XIEETIXQ OP GENEJiAI, KITCHENER AXD MA JO I: MAItCHAND AT FASHODA. Kitchener acted wisely and with tact, while Major Marchaud behaved like a gentleman of France. Nothing would have been easier than for Kitchener, by the tyrannous use of overwhelming force, to have .hurried England into her twenty-fifth war with France by wounding the susceptibilities of tho brave soldier explorer. Kitchener's language to Marchand was prescribed for him by Lord Salisbury. Annoy ance to Euglaud was the sole motive of tho Marchaud expedition. To send an armed party of Frenchmen abso lutely without a base to occupy Egyp tian territory and defy tho joiut power of England, Egypt and India—for In dian forcos could laud at Suakim with in ten days from the date of an order from London —is so wild a scheme that it can end in nothing but futility. When the Fashoda incident is settled, the French power of annoyance in Egypt will probably be considerably curtailed before the coming winter is over. The French, aided by the Rus sians, who have no interests in Egypt, block tho way by opposing grants be ing allowed for the Egyptian War De partment by the Caisse do la Dette. In January next the existing interna tional arrangements will bo modified. In English Government circles it is maintained that everything has passed off at Fashoda exactly as was antici pated, and that the French flag at Fashoda moaut no more than the dis play of a British union-jack from the window of an English shop in Paris. Close observers will note that Eng land at tho present juncture is special ly polite to Frauce, and the latter would be well advised to remember Mr. Kipling's hint— "But oh! beware of my country when my country grows polite." A Girl's Curious Suicide. A young Texas girl ate the heads of 212 parlor matches in an attempt to commit suicide. When she repented sAe swallowed a lot of lard and bacon as an antidote. The combination wan fatal in a few minutes. Few Carriage Koatls in the Pyrenees* There are quite 100 roads of on# kind and another over the Pyrenees between France and Spain, but only three of these are passable car riages* AUCTIOxN SALE COMEDY. HOW THE TRICK OF f/AKING ONE BID AGAINST SELF IS WORKED. Tho Auctioneer Must Hare Been n Hyp notist, Considering the Price His El derly Victim Paid For the Watteau Shepherdess—Praised Her Eve's Cult. Tho vase was about eighteen inches high, and of varying diameter. It was of some sort of crockery or china war., and it was as ornate as a Loue somehurst cottage. On one side was a Watteau youug womau, clad iu a truly rural pink satin puffy skirt, mostly all pleats, and an apple-greeu bodice, also satin, and a "shepherd ess" hat that must have cost at least $21.80, aud white silk stockiugs that ended in pink satin slippers (high heeled), apparently No. 12, children's size. The youug womau was engaged in holding on to tho kind of shepherd ess' crook that shepherdesses used al ways to carry iu the old days—gilded, and with vnri-liued liberty silk rib bons tied all over it. She was also industriously engaged iu gazing into the branches of a sapphire blue cherry tree, wherein n very red and very spankable Cupid was doing the usual act with a bow and arrow. On the other side a young man, with more or less of the same make-up, without the skirt, was climbing a gilt ladder into a gilt balcony shaded by Tyriau pur ple vines. 'i he auctioneer held it up. "What am I offered for this real thing?" ho inquired, insinuatingly. "Ladies aud geDtlemen, the age of this vawse is beyond my humble com putation. Moreover, Ido not like to go beyoud facts that I know. Ido know that this vawse adorned tho homo of the Russian Minister —Cacky —Cackyowsky—something like that —to this country seventy-two years ago. It passed from his unwilling keeping, when he was recalled, to the household establishment cf the Czar. The many vioissitudes through which this vawse has passed iu finally reach ing my humble but reverent hands, ladies and gentlemen, were too pa thetic to relate. It suffioes to say that it is a gem fit to have adorned Versailles—as, indeed, who shall say that it never did adorn Versailles? Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to mako me au offering for this vawse, keeping in mind " "Two dollars," said a coarse, brutal man at the far end of the room. The auctioneer looked grieved. "Surely," said he, "you jest. Surely, you must be unaware of the merits of the cherished school of cera mic art to which this " "Two 'u' a half," put inanotherlow churl, with a busiuess-like eye, up near the auctioneer's stand. "I perceive," said the auctioneer, sadly, "that a spirit of merriment pervades the room this morning. It is a sorry enough reflection that a gem, a prize, of this character, ladies and gentlemen, that a generation ago would have been grabbed at by " "Well, call it three," said the first man to mako a bid. "My friends," said the auctioneer, shaking his head mournfully, "are you aware that it is among the possi bilities—indeed, among the probabili ties —that this vawse for which you now offer me such paltry sums may at oue time have embellished the bou doirs of queeus?—that the ill-fated Marie Antoinette herself " "Three-fifty," said another man with alow forehead but a bright, alert eye. It was at this point that the deter mined-looking elderly woman, with the poppy-covered bonnet and tho fat, old-fashioned purse, walked iu. The love of tradition shone in her eyes, nnd she Hashed u look of contempt at the bidders. "Five dollars," said she, pushing through the crowd oloso to the auc tioneer's stand. "Ah, madarne," said the auctioneer, "you have arrive I in seasou. It is readily to he see.i that you know a good thing when yu : —that you have a cultivated eye, tli it is to say, for such jiorfect product., of a sadly de teriorated art as this. Yet I fear you, too, strike too low a note. Five lam offsred—who, then, is to make it ten? who makes it leu?—ah, tea I am offered " Nobody iu the room had spoken. The determined-looking elderly wom an looked around defiantly nud ad justed her speotac'.cs defiantly. " ten I am offered—who makes it fifteen? " "Fifteen dollars," said the deter mined-looking womau, and all of the rest of the room's assemblage looked cn with a very great silence. "Fifteen I am offered—it is dreary enough tfi refleot upou it—but fifteen I am offered—fifteen—fifteen—now, who is to display his acumen and make me—ah, twenty " Nobody in the room had spoken. "Twenty-five dollars," said the de termined-lookiug woman, and she didn't notice the grins of tho canaille about her. "And sold to this lady with the cul tivated eye for twenty-five dollars," said tho auctioneer, Buappingly. "Oh, yes,"said the auctioneer in an easy whisper to a friend, "when you can get 'em to bid against themselves you're all right." Theu she sold an other vase of the same sort for 82.50. —Washington Star. Practical Claiilcs. Mrs. Timkins was taking her son to school for the first time, and after im pressing the schoolmaster with the necessity of his having a thorough good education, finished up by saying: "And be sure bo learns Latin." "But, my dear madam," said the schoolmaster, "Latin is a dead lan guage." "All right." said Mrs. Timkins; "he'll want it. He's going to beau undertaker."—Tit-Bits. A RED TAPE COMEDY. Terrible Commotion in Germany Kecame u Kite Caught on a Wire. At Gleiwitz, in Upper Sile3ia, a youngster's kite got caught ou the electric wire of a fire alarm. A police man noticed the accideut, and in order to get the kite removed made a written report, which, after having been perused by the "Polizeikommissar," was forwarded in succession to the "Polizei-luspektor," the Magistrate aud the "Feuerloschgeratkommis sion." The last-named authority en gaged an engineer to remove the of fending kite, and recommended the Magistrate to reward the zealous po liceman with a premium of twenty-five pfennigs. The engineer handed in a written report to the effect that the kite had been removed. The munici pal treasury paid the policeman the sum of twenty-five pfennigs nnd re ceived in return a duly signed ac knowledgment. The master of tho school which the unlucky kite flyer attended (fourteen days had been spent in tracing him) received instructions to severely warn his pupils against fly ing their kites against electrio wires, nnd after complyiug with the instruc tions reported accordingly. But tho "Feuerloschgeratkommis sion" determined that the matter should not rest there. They sent a deputation to the local School Board to ask that all school inspectors in the district should be instructed to see that all the children in the local ■choola received a similar warning. The headmasters of all the schools were accordingly supplied with written instructions as to the way iu which the necessary warning should be conveyed. Circulars were distributed among the juvenile population. The head schodl inspector was iuformed of the steps that had been taken. He iuformed the School Board, aud the School Board tho Burgermeister. Finally the written documents relating to the affair were collected, and, after being furnished with a formidable register number, were laid to rest in the official pigeon hole. Four months passed from the loss of tho kite to the final subsidence of documents and reports concerning it WISE WORDS. Be not merely good; be good for something. —Thoreau. Evil is wrought by want of thought as well as by want of heart,—Hood. Our ancestors have traveled the iron age; the golden is before us. —St. Pierre. Good taste rejects excessive nicety; it treats little things as little things and is not hurt by theiu.—Feulton. No man was ever so completely skilled in the conduct of life as not to receive new information from age and experience.—Terence. Our lives, by acts exemplary, not only win ourselves good names, but do to others give matter for virtuous deeds, by which we live.—Chapman. There cannot be a suror proof of low origin or of an innate meanness of disposition than to be always talking and thinking nbout being genteel.— Hazlitt. ' Narrow-minded and ignoraut per sons talk about persons aud not things; hence gossip is tho bauo and disgrace of so large a portion of society.— Sheridan. A man should learu to detect nnd watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within more than the lnstre of tho armament of bards end sages.—Emerson, We can have no positive idea of any space or duration, which is not made up of, and commeusurato to, repeated numbers of leet or yards, or days or years, and whereby we judge of the greatness of these sort of quantities.— Locke. Lovo as we may other women, there stands first and ineffaceable the love of "mother;" gaze as we may on other faces, our mother's face is still the fairest; bead as we shall to other in fluences, still, over all, silent, but mighty, reaching to us from long-gone years, is a mother's influence.—j. F. W. Ware. Wanted* Wanted—A skillful dentist to fill the teeth of a gale. Wanted —A cook to prepare dinner on a mountain range. Wanted—A set of artificial teeth for the mouth of the Mississippi, Wanted—A crown for the brow of a hill. Wanted—A well-fitting shoe for the foot of a mountain. Wanted—Several hundred women to scour the country. Wanted —An energetic barber to shave tbo face of tho earth. Wanted—A lady to wear the Cape of Good Hope. Wanted—Locks for the Florida Kays. Wanted—A wise man to teach the Scilly Islands.—Anglo-American. rnsalng of "The l-ndy of the Home." "The lady of the house," once es teemed a highly polite and concilia tory form of address, is now, said a city dweller, "ancient and obsolete with those who pursue business by modern methods. Iu advaucc prac tice the custom is now to address the lady of the house by name, a method vastly more impressive and one sus ceptible of varied application. Thus an establishment with which we al ready have relations sends out a new circular aud this is left at the door by a man who says not 'for the lady of the house,' but 'the 80-and-So sends this to Mrs. Blank.' This beats 'the lady of the house' out of sight, aud marka the refinement of modem methods of doing things."—New York San. Not Counted. It la estimated that there ore 1200 islands in the Philippines, but there has been no official counting.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers