Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, March 12, 1900, Image 2

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    Freeland Tribune
Established 1888.
PUBLISHED EVERY
MONDAY AND THURSDAY.
BY TUB
TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY. Lililef
OFFICE. MAIN STREET ABOVE CENTRE.
FREELAND, PA.
SUBSCRIPTION KATES:
One Year $1.50
Hlx Months 75
Tour Months 50
Two Months 25
The date which the subscription is paid to
la on tne address label of each paper, the
change of which to a subsequent date bo
oomee a receipt for remittance. Keep tbi
figures in advance of the present date. Re
Eort promptly to this office whenever pape/
i not received. Arrearages must be pall
When subscription is discontinued.
Male all money orders, checks, etc.,payable
to the Tribune Printing Company, Limited.
A distinguished authority was
asked, the other day, what was the
proper number of a good working
•oinmittee. The reply was: "Three—
if one is sick and another canno*
come." That must not be regarde' 1
as an example of one mau power, be
cause the author of the statement was
Clara Barton, who has exemplified it
more thau once.
"Quarttf at Dawson" will uot be as
attractive a cry to the prospector as it
would have beeu over a year ago.
Since that time Uncle Sam has found
the Cape Nome gold fields, ou his own
side of the line, aud the population
of the Yukon Territory has gone mer
rily down. Dawson needs more men
aud cheaper labor, aud hence a new
crop of "mother-lode" reports.
A critical rather than a confident
attitude toward immediate if not final '
results rhould mark American think
ing. Lord Roberts has been a great
soldier, but is uot a young man. Von
Moltke was the only old mau who has
proved himself a great soldier—unless
it be J"*'bert—in modern times. Our
own Scott was retired for the ineffi
ciency of age at the outbreak of our
civil war. The Duke of Cambridge
ceased to be commander-in-chief of
the armies of Great Britain because
of his years. The dignified marshals
of the Taird Empire failed France in
her contest with Germany.
It will be a good day for the country
when there grows up an assumption
that the politician is naturally high
minded, though conditions may at
times cause him to act questionably,
and that, freed from those conditions, i
bis natural moral resiliency will cause
him to soar, observes the Now Y'ork
Commercial Advertiser. Under a
high moral public sentiment it is
easier for men to be good than to be
bad. In private life many a man leaves
certain things uudone, while commit
ting other greater sins because some
are what a gentle nan would not do,
and the others the sin of the gentle
man. Thus any advance in public oi
political standard is bailed as a bene
fit. no matter what its immediate mo
tive.
The naming of postoffiees nfier mil
itary heroes has been a fad siuce the j
outbreak of the Spanish war, aud is
now beginning to die out; but after
Deweys, Roosevelts, Schieys and |
Shafters bad dotted the Union, a flip- j
pant Texas town with an admiration ,
for the Rough Riders turned up a
short time ago with a request that its '
postoffice be named "Teddy," which,
after due deliberation, was done. On
the same day a postoffice in Georgia
varied the usual procedure of securing
the names of the great and good by
naming itself Quilp. The flippancy
with which some towns brand them
selves with opprobrious names is il
lustrated by Twobit, S. I). The town
is probably worth u ore than that.
Some of the names, however, eviuce a
lively and poetic faucy, as Blue Ash,
Ohio; Bonny Doon, Cal., and Gallant
Green. Md.
Trltxed Peter the Great.
Peter the Great was once very neatly
caught in a trap by a jester attached
to the court. The Jester was noted for
ills cleverness In getlng himself and
his friends out of difficulties. It hap
pened one day that a cousin of his
had incurred the czar's displeasure, and
was about to be executed. The jester,
therefore, presented himself before his
imperial master to beg for his reprieve.
On seeing him approach the czar, di
vining his errand, cried; "It is no good
to come here; I swear I will not grant
what you are going to ask." Immedi
ately the jester went down on his
Knees, saying: "1 beseech your im
perial highness to put rhat scamp
cousin of mine to death." The czar,
thus caught in his own tray, coulq
only laugh and pardon the condemned
man,
lpfliiiltou of lirio-H-Hmn.
Little Dick—Uncle Richard, what is
bric-a-brac? Uncle Richard—Bric-a
brac >3 anything you knock over and
break when you are feeling foi
matches in the dark.—Puck
Wild boars still abound in some parts
Of Morocco, one hunting party having
lately killed over 100 in one week.
PRISONER OF WAR.
"No rent again this month? This Is
the third time It has happened within
the half-year. I'll go there myself and
get the money, or I'll know the reason
why."
Matthew Deane was in particularly
bad humor this raw December morn
ing. Everything had gone wrong.
Stocks had fallen when they ought to
have risen—his clerk had tipped over
the inkstand on his special and pecul
iar heap of paper—the fire obstinate
ly refused to burn in the grate—in
short, nothing went right, and Mr.
Deane was consequently and corre
spondingly cross.
"Jenkins!"
"Yes. sir."
"Go to the Widow Clarkson's, and
tell her I shall be there in half an hour
and expect confidently—mind, Jenkins
—confidently to receive that rent
money. Or I shall feel myself obliged
to resort to extreme measures. You
understand, Jenkins?"
"Certainly, sir."
"Then don't stand there starin' like
an idiot," snarled Mr. Deane, in a
sudden burst of irritation, and Jenkins
disappeared like a shot.
Just half an hour afterward Mat
thew Deane brushed the brown hair
Just sprinkled with gray from his
square yet no unkindly brow. Put
ting on his fur-lined overcoat he
walked into the chilly winter air fully
determined, figuratively, to annihilate
the defaulting Widow Clarkson.
It was a dwarfish little red brick
house which appeared originally to
have aspired to two-storyhood lot.
but cramped by circumstances, had
settled down into a story and a half,
but the windows shone like Brazilian
pebbles, and the doorsteps were worn
by much scouring. Neither of these
circumstances, however, did Mr. Deane
remark as he pulled the glittering
brass doorknob and strode into Mrs.
Clarkson's neat parlor.
There was a small fire —very small,
as if every lump of anthracite was
• hoarded in the stove, and at a table
with writing implements before her sat
a young lady whom Mr. Deane at once
recognized as Mrs. Clarkson's niece,
Miss Olive Mellen. She was not dis
agreeable to look upon, though you
"I HAVE CALLED TO SEE YOUR
AUNT."
would never have thought of classing \
her among the beauties, with shining
black hair, blue, long-lashed eyes, and
a very pretty mouth, hiding teeth like
rice kernels, so white were they.
Miss Mellen rose with a polite nod.
which was grimly reciprocated by Mr.
Deane.
"I have called to see your aunt, Miss
Mellen."
"I know it, sir, but as I am aware of
her timid temperament, I sent her
away. I prefer to deal with you my
self."
Mr. Deane started—the cool audacity
of the damsel in gray, with scarlet
ribbons in her hair, rather astonished
him.
"I suppose the money is ready?"
"No, sir, it is not."
"Then, Miss Olive, pardon me, I must
speak plainly. I shall send an officer
here this afternoon to put a valuation
on the furniture, and "
"You will do nothing of the kind,
sir."
Olive's cheek had reddened and her
eyes flashed portentously. Mr. Deane
turned toward the door, but ere he
knew what she was doing, Olive had
walked quietly across the room, locked
the door, and taken out the key—then
she resumed her seat.
"What does this mean?" ejaculated
the astonished "prisoner of war."
"It means, sir, that you will now be
obliged to consider the question," said
Olive.
"Obliged?"
"Yes—you will hardly jump out of
the window, and there is no other
method of egress unless you choose to
go up the chimney. Now, then. Mr.
Deane, will you tell mo if you—a Chris
tian man in the nineteenth century—
intend to sell a poor widow's furniture
because she is not able to pay your
rent? Listen, sir!"
Mr. Deane opened his mouth to re
monstrate,but Olive enforced her words
with a very emphatic little stamp of
the foot, and he was, as it were,
stricken dumb.
"You are what the world calls a
rich man. Mr. Deane. You own rows
of houses, piles of bank stock, railroad
shares, bonds and mortgages—who
1 knows what? My aunt has nothing; I
support her by copying. Now, if this
e&se be carried into a court of law, my
' poor ailing aunt will bo a sufferer—
you would emerge unscathed and prof
iting. You are not a bad man, Mr.
Deane; you have a great many noble
qualities, and I like you for them."
She paused an instant and looked in
tently and gravely at Mr. Deane. The
color rose to his cheek—it was not dis
agreeable to be told by a pretty young
i girl that she liked him. on any terms;
; yet she had Indulged in pretty plain
speaking. "I have heard," she went
on, "of your doing kind actions when
you were in the humor of it. You can
do them, and you shall in this instance.
You are cross this morning—you know
you are! Hush! no excuse; you are
selfish and irritable and overbearing.
If I were your mother, and you a lit
tle boy. I should certainly put you in
a corner until you promised to be
good."
Mr. Deane smiled, although he was '
getting angry. Olive went on with the
utmost composure.
"But as it is, I shall only keep you
here a prisoner until you have behaved,
and given me your word not to annoy
my aunt again for rent until she is able
to pay you. Then, and not until then,
will you receive your money. Do you
promise? Yes or no?"
"I certainly shall agree to no such j
terms," said Mr. Deane, tartly.
"Very well, sir; I can wait."
Miss Mellen deposited the key in the
pocket of her gray dress and sat down
to her copying. Had she been a man, j
Mr. Deane would probably have
knocked her down; as it was, she wore 1
an Invisible armor of power in the very !
fact that she was a fragile, slight
woman, and she knew it.
"Miss Olive," he said, sternly, "let
us terminate this mummery. Unlock
that door!"
"Mr. Deane. I will not!"
"I shall shout and alarm the neigh
borhood, then, or call a policeman."
"Very well, Mr. Deane; do so, if you
please."
She dipped her pen in the ink and |
began on a fresh page. Matthew sat !
down, puzzled and discomfited, and
watched the long-lashed eyes and
faintly tinged cheek of his keeper. She
was very pretty—what a pity she was
so obstinate!
"Miss Olive!"
"Sir?"
"The clock has just struck 12."
"I heard it."
"I should like to go out and get some
lunch."
"I am sorry that that luxury is out
of your power."
"But I'm confounded hungry."
"Are you?"
"And I'm not going to stand this
sort of thing any longer."
"No?"
How provoklngly nonchalant she
was. Mr. Deane eyed the pocket of the
gray dress greedily, and walked up
and down the room pettishly.
"I have an appointment at 1."
"Indeed! What a pity you will be un
able to keep it!"
He took another turn across the
room. Olive looked up with a smile.
"Well, are you ready to promise?"
"Hang it, yes! What else can I
do?"
"You promise?"
"I do, because I can't help myself."
Olive drew the key from her pocket
with softened eyes.
"You have made me very happy, Mr.
Deane. I dare say you think me un
womanly and unfeminine. but indeed
you do not know to what extremities
we are driven by poverty. Good-morn
ing, sir."
Mr. Deane sallied forth with a curi
ous complication of thoughts and emo
tions struggling through his brain, in
which gray dresses, long-lashed blue
eyes and scarlet ribbons played a
prominent part.
"Did you get the money, sir?" asked
the clerk, when he walked into the of
fice.
"Mind your business, sir," was the
tart response.
"I pity her husband." thought Mr.
Deane, as he turned the papers over
on his desk. "How she will henpeck
him! By the way, I wonder who her
husband will be?"
The next day he called at the Widow
Clarkson's to assure Miss Mellen that
he had no idea of breaking his prom
ise, and the next but one after that he
came to tell the young lady she need
entertain no doubt of his integrity.
And the next week he dropped in on
them with no particular errand to
serve as an excuse!
"When shall we be married, Olive?
Next month, dearest? Do not let us
put it off later."
"I have no wishes but yours, Mat
thew."
"Really, Miss Olive Mellen, to hear
that meek tone one would suppose you
had never locked me up here and tyr
annized over me as a jailer."
Olive burst into a merry laugh.
"You dear old Matthew; I give you
warning beforehand that I mean to
have my own way in everything. Do
you wish to recede from your bargain?
It is not too late yet."
No, Matthew Deane didn't; he had
a vague idea that it would be very
pleasant to be henpecked by Olive!
Very Definite.
Mrs. Sewell, who is the head of a
classical school for girls in Indianap
olis, could contribute a readable sequel
to English as she is taught, for the
pupils in a girls' classical school are
not above the amusing blunders which
characterize the efforts of their young
sisters in the public schools. On one
occasion Mrs. Sewell was instructing
a class in physics. Force was the sub
ject, and she made plain to the girls
the difference between centrifugal and
centripetal force. "Centrifugal." said
Mrs. Sewell, "is a force whose direction
is from the center and centripetal is a
; force whose direction is toward the
I center. Do you all understand that?"
' The crass chorused assent. "Now, will
; some girl give me an illustration?"
• continued Mrs. Sewell. "The domestic
j virtues are centripetal," replied a small
I girl, "because they keep a man in the
j center of his home, and a centrifugal
force is—is—well, a saloon Is a centri
fugal force." —Philadelphia Post.
In a Trying Position.
She (In affright)—"Oh, Tom, why
do you make such awful faces at me?"
He (contritely)—"l can't help it, dear.
My eyeglasses are falling off and I
don't want to let go of your hands."—
Stray Stories.
f WOMAN'S WORUL 1
FARMING FOR WOVEN.
How Our English Sisters Are Heeomlug
Scleutlflc Agriculturists.
The "advanced" English woman does
not hesitate to carry out many kinds
oi' work, which are not yet popular
with her Ameriean sisters. Among
other things she not only farms with
a vim and energy very astonishing to
non-English women, bat she regular
ly and scientifically qualifies herßelf
for farming by a course at one of the
agricultural colleges for women, whioh
thrive in England. The best and
most favorably known of these, per
haps, is the Lady Warwick Hostel at
Reading. The Countess of Warwiok,
formerly Lady Brooke, and the
"Babbling Brooke" of semifaeetious
London swelldom, stands at tbe head
of this institution, and also edits the
Woman's Agricultural Times, the
monthly magazine published by tbe
college authorities. "Practical Hor
ticulture for Women," "Bee-keeping
for Women," and "The Keeping of
Milch Goats as an Ooeupation for
Women," were among the subjeete
treated in a recent number of this
periodical, and the manner of treat
ment was extremely plain aud practi
cal in each case. The linen indus
tries, poultry culture and keeping,
and the work of the various tecbical
schools for women, which are under
the special patronage of the Princess
of Wales, alßo occupy much space in
most numbers. The whole tone of
the magazine is one of study and ser
iousness, even the jokes and witticisms
whioh adorn its columns occasionally
are solemn, and have an agricultural
flavor.
The students at the agricnltnral
colleges come from almost oil grades
and ranks of society, and the educa
tion provided for them is both thor
ough and varied. All about flower,
fruit and vegetable growing, butter
and cheese making, mushroom, bee
and tomato culture they,learn, and
ihey must be well up in both theory
and prnctioo before they are entitled
to the college certificate. A large
majority of the graduates devote
themselves to specialties of various
kinds, it is said, and the mascnline
farmers of England are rapidly learn
ing to respect both their learning and
prowess, and to regard them as for
midable rivals.
The cost of taking a thorough course
at one of these agricultural colleges,
with board or "residence," ranges
from $350 and upward for each year,
and the length of time spent in study
varies according to the quickness and
capabilities of the students themselves,
as well as of the nnmher and intricacies
of tho branches undertaken. The
roster of students is usually a gen
erous one, and occasionally applicants
are obliged to wait some time before
arrangements for their matriculation
can be madev
The students, according to the pub
lic announcements sent out by the
college, are not expected to perform
tho heaviest or laborer's work npon
the college lands, whioh are theirs to
experiment upon under proper direc
tion, but it would seem from a report
laiely published by the warden of the
Lady Warwick Hostel, Miss Edith
Bradley, that at thiß establishment at
loast the students, all of them women, j
do "till the ground" literally as well
as metaphorically.
"Sinoe the term ended in the last
days of June," says this personage,
"our regular students have beon leav
ing in small detachments, as the weeks
of the practical work eame to an end.
The last to go were some four or five
who were intrusted with the making
of an outdoor mushroom bed. Turning
the manure occupied three weeks, and
then the spawning oould not be done
untfl the proper temperature was
reaohed. A careful record will be
kept of the time and expense inourred
in making this bed, whioh will be
put against the amount realized by
the sale of the mushrooms. In this
way the students will gain praotical
experience in one of the most profit
able of the lighter branohes of agricul
ture, with a view to specializing in it
later."
Commonplace People.
A woman who entertains a great
deal tells me that she is heart, brain,
nerve and soul weary of olever people,
and she longs to know somebody who
neither writes, sings-, recites, toots,
fiddles, nor even has ideas. She even
proposes a toast to the stupid people
who do not intrude, and to those who,
while not stupid, often pretend they
are, for the sake of the quiet and
peace they know you will appreciate.
Cleverness runs in families nowadays.
Even the household baby is hauled
out at deadly night hours to do his
little turn, and the grandmother of
the family is olever. Ah, a rare and
satisfying person to meet is the
family woman who is not olever; who
makes no pretensions to cleverness;
who has not prepared a paper on any
of the burning questions of the hour.
For the sake of the workers in the
groat world downtown, let me quaft
tho enp to the health of the woman
who is satisfied to stay at home and
mend tho stockings, and make pie
and doughnuts and jelly-cake—make
anything, in fact, provided she is con
tented while she is doing it. Probably
t-he doesn't talk a great deal, and
doesn't mind if you do not, and
doesn't cherish it up against you if
you do not hear what she is saying,
even if you seem to be listening and
aro looking right at her. What a
dear, restful soul she is! She knows
good old tried-and-truo remedies for
ailments, aud sho doesn't even ask
whether you want specifies for your
ills or not, but she just claps them
on, or pours them in, and bnstles
around and hangs up things, an/ tells
yon that you'll be better In tbe morn
ing, and sure enough you are, deal
unselfish prophet that she is!— Ha
rper's Bazar.
Cording Is Used on All Aecessorles.
Cording is a more elaborate procest
and is now especially in vogue for
yokes, collars, cuffs, belts and revers.
Instead of the fine or heavy cords
that were once used in rows between
rows of machine stitching, a slightly
stiff featherboning is used, and put
on with a machine attachment which
keeps the work even and avoids all
pulling. The prettiest of yokes show
cording in a rounding form, lower
in the centre, with a rucking of mous
seline on the edge—a fluffy effect for
one with a flat chest. In cording the
filler must be of a fair size to show in
distinct ridges, which is the beauty
of all oording.
Sewing on a button seems a simple
task, but it is one which many women
do in a wrong way. A button used as
a trimming needs but a few stitches,
as it is simply tacked on, while one
used as a fastener needs strength and
loose stitches enduringly put in. No
button fastens well that is sewed
closely to the dress. Use twist, and
wax it so that a few stitohes will suf
fice. Do not sew on a button so that
the stitches disfigure the lining. A
tailor puts his Btitchcs through the
upper cloth only, pointing the needle
back and forth, not up and down—a
process which is easily learned. A
button is either for use or ornament.
If for the latter pnrpose it should be
unique in shape or design.—Ladies'
Home Journal.
Garment* For Slender Women.
Anxious to preserve the slenderness
of their figures, many women will suf
fer actual discomfort, or even risk
great danger to their health from cold,
rather than wear heavy, bulky gar
ments. Shetland underwaists, to be
worn next the redingote, or rather
overdress, are especially designed for
this class of people. These garment?
are knitted loosely in pure Shetland
wool. They are exceedingly warm,
though so fine and light, and the
waists ire made with a high neck and
long sleeves. They can be worn un
der a close-fitting bodice without ma
terially iucreasing the size. They can
be found at any of the stores which
make a specialty of fine hygienic wool i
underwear. They are rather high in
price, but a pair of these waists mere
ly for outdoor wear will last all win
ter. They can be had in black, white
and gray wools respectively. Rather
than pay the price, many women sub
stitute a ribbed wool undervest, which
they wear under a light-weight cloth
jacket.
How Women Dree, in Siberia.
Common-class women in Siberia
wear shawls or kerchiefs on their
heads, while the rich women wear no
head covering whatever. A traveler
reoently returned from that part of
the world says that a Russian woman
who is otherwise trim and modern in
dress will go about with her hair dis
hevelled to the point of the ludicrous.
Less ntteution is paid to the head and
feet than to other parts of their
toilet.
"It is odd enough to Bee them,"
says this same writer, "defying drip
ping decks and muddy roads in the
thinneßt of heelless slippers, while
the breezes play havoc with the loose
tresßes of their hair. Their shirt waist
is a feminine terror, with a broad
turnover collar, fancy cuffs, cotton
bows, many buttons aud numerons
frills, in place of the natty American
shirt waist."
A Fur and Velvet Season.
The winter is to be decidedly a fur
and velvet season. Entire gowns are
made of these materials, lightly lined
with silk or satin alone, to remove all
bulky effeot, and skirts and coats of
Persian lamb or Caracut—the fine,
soft Astrakhan —are the height oi
fashion.
Gleaning. From the Shop*.
Black velvet bows for the hair with
pipings of white satin.
Exqnisito novelties in beaded and
jowelled purses and bags in small
sizes.
Gown of net, cloth or velvet show
ing guipure lace in festoon applica
tions.
Watoh fob 3 of black ribbon with
seal, monogram or rich jewel pen
dants.
Not, ohiffon and narrow lace frills
edged with effectivo Tom Thumb
fringe.
Mufl'chains composed of alternat
ing links of gold and enamel dower
desigus.
Silver bangles for young girls, upon
which some favoite quotation is in
scribed.
White Brussels net embroidere d
with light green chenille and pearl
sequins.
Many styles in tortoise shell, am
ber, jet and Parisian rhiuestone coif
fure ornaments.
Panne velvet in pompadour color
ings for waists, guimpes and other
trimming purposes.
Lace gowns effectively trimmed
with deep white chenille fringe or
narrow hands of fur.
Evening gews of chenille dotted
net relieved hy bauds of cream lace
in hayandere pattern.
Medici collars of sable and other
fur finished with long stoles of plaited
chiffon or rich cream lace.
Largo assortments of high class
novelties in reversible cloths fordriv
iug coats, capes and ulsters.
ltedingotes and newmarkets made
of black or light-colored cloths
trimmed with machine stitched folds
and deep rovers.
Chinchilla aud sable toques trimmed
effectively with tulle rosettes in com
bination with birds, wings, paradise
aigrette aud violets.—Dry Goods
Economist.
SOUTH AFRICA'S PLAGUES.
At Buluw.yo Boot. Devoured by Ants—
The Rinderpest.
•'South Africa imports hides, wool
and mohair, and the ranchman would
revel in riohes were it not for tho var
ious pests that decimate hie flocks and
herds. The most deadly one is the
rinderpest, a cattle plague which in
the last ten years hrfs been slowly
oreeping from Central Africa south
ward, leaving a wake or whitened
bones. In traveling through Natal I
saw fifty oxen lying dead about a
spring where they had tumbled one
over the other, so suddenly had the
disease attacked them. It was almost
impossible then to get an untinged
piece of eteak at a restaurant, though
the proprietor resented any such
charge, and a plethoric German trav
eler who called in. a loud tone for
'roast rinderpest' in the railroad cafe
at De Aar Junction, Cape Colony, had
to be picked np in fragments. Dr.
Koch and other eminent specialists
tried in vain to stop this plague. The
country is now recovering from it
slowly.
"Another pest is the tsetse fly, an
inseot resembling our oommon house
fly, hut three times as large. Its bite
will kill a horse, cow or any other do
mestic animal in about ten days, but,
strange to say, does not affeot a wild
animal or a human being. A less dan
gerous but more troublesome pest is
the white ant, whioh is about one
quarter of an inch long and übiquit
ous in many parts of the country.
They live under tho ground, and can
only be routed by killing the queen,
which sometimes reaches the size of
one inch in length. This insect is
particularly harassing in Rhodesia.
At Buluwayo my traveling companion
inadvertently left his boots ou the
floor after taming in at night, and ho
arose next morning to find the uppers
carefully separated from the soles.
'Lucky you didn't leave your olothes
on the floor,' was the hotel keeper's
only consolation. These ants will eat
through anything hut metal, and for
that reason much of the building is
done with corrugated iron. The ant
hill iB one of the conspicuous land
marks in traveling over South Africa."
•—Ainslce's Magazine.
Rome Remarkable Freight Outfits.
All the reminiscent veterans of the
plains love to dwell nowadays on the
wonders of the freight outfits of the
early sixties, when the transportation
business for them was at its height.
An ox-team freight train consisted of
twenty-flve wagons. Several trains
used to move together, making a
stream of ox teams and wagons more
than half a mile long. Somotimes a
freight train would be a mile long,
consisting of 500 ox teams, 120
wagons and about 130 men. The
earlier wagons wore large and carried
from fifty to sixty hundred pounds of
freight, hut later still heavier wagons,
with oval whito canvas or looso,cloth
tops, called prairie schooners, came
into use; each wagon being loaded
with from three to three and one-half
tons. The goods were protected with
two or of ducking. Some
I wagons had peep holes in the sides
from whioh tho freighters looked out,
! rifle in hand, when a hand of savages
' was menacing the train.
Eaoh wagon required six yoke of
oxen for motive power, and twenty or
thirty head of extra oxen always ac
companied the train to supply the
place of those that were lost or
orippled. The custom of trailing u
wagon came into use iu later years.
In camping the wagons were arranged
in a circle side by side, with tho
tongues outwurd, and a log cabin ex
tended from the hind wheel of ono
wagon to the fore wheel of the next
one, thus making a solid pen.
Sacred White Peacocks at tlio Zoo.
Sacred white peaoocks are the star
attraction at the Central Park men
agerie in New York City. The long
armed gibbon, known as the missing
link, which has held the place of
honor at the park zoo, will takeabaok
seat. It is said there aro only two
white peacocks in America. The
strange peacocks have been a part of
a circus in Cincinnati. Superinten
dent Smith heard of them and ar
ranged for an exchange. Cape buf
faloes are a rarity in this country, hut
the menagerie has several of them
and no freak peacocks. The circus
man finally consented to let the pea
cocks go to New York City and to take
in exchange one of the oapo buffaloes.
The white peacook is the albino of the
peacock family, and ouly a very few
of them are found outside of their
native country, India, where they aro
considered sacred.
Matorlal For His Play.
A fonrtecn-year-old hoy marohed
busily up to the doorkeeper and asked
to he allowed to see the Molineux
trial. The attendant told him he was
too small, and pushed him hack.
"But I've got some important busi
ness," he said, resentfully.
"Important business?"
"I'm writing a play, sir, and the
fourth act is a murder trial just like
Mr. Molineux's."
"Get out, you 1"
"Why do you let Mr. Scott, tho
Euglishmau, in, aud Mr. Bronson
Howard and Mr. Klein, tho actor?"
"Wait till you are as big as they
are."
"Well, wait till you see my play,"
snapped the applicant for admit
tance, and stalked haughtily up to the
elevator.—New York Commercial Ad
vertiser.
Tito .'Meanest Men.
Some of the meauest men in tho
world are the fellows who stop in
front of a newsboy, pretend to feel for
a cent with which to buy a paper,
sneak a glance nt the headlines which
gives them ull the news they want,
and then refuse to buy, saying, "Just
had one." —New York Press.
A COMICAL WORLD.
"Such a comical world," said the Funnj
Man,
And he laughed, "Hh-hal lie-he!
Row peopje can keep from laugning aloud
Is really a mystery to me.
"Now the sun arises In oarly morn,
And that Is no funny to me;
it doesn't wait till poople are up
Is funny as fuuuy cau be.
"Aud the moon and the stars prowl around
nt night
When tho people aro all in bed;"
And lie laughed, "Ha-ha! He-hel"
Aud shook from his toes to his hoad.
"Why. tho brooks are alwnys running
down hill,
And (which seems so funny to mo),
They never climb back, yot never run dry;
Which is funny as funny can be.
"And another thing that is comical, too,
The rivers run into the sea; ■
But it never runs o'er or fullor gets,
"Which also seems funny to me.
"And the higher you climb up the moun
tain tall,
And the nearer the sun," said he,
"The oolder it grows, und that, too, I'm
sure,
Is funny as funny can be.
"Such a comical worldl" said the Fuuny
Man,
And ho laughed, "Ila-haf Ho-hol
How pooplo can koep from laughing aloud
Is really a mystery to mo."
—Detroit Free Press.
JINGLES AND JESTS.
Sillicus—"A woman's troubles are
always extreme." Cynicus—"Yes;
shoes and hats."
There is a chance for some genius
To spend his days in olover
By inyouting cloth for overcoats
Thut will fade alike all over.
—Chicago News.
| "1 may have wheels," said the
driver of the van, "but I move in the
best society."—Philadelphia Evening
Bulletin.
Hoax—"Salary been reduced, ch?
That's hard luck. Made you feel
mad, didn't it?" Joax—"No, but it
made me feel cheap."
I fear he will not rise to fame;
Ho has indeed a studious bout,
But ull with ease may road his name
Whene'er ho signs a document.
—Washington Star.
Maude—"Have Bella and Jack ba
a new quarrel?" Lena—"Oh, no!—
but they've patched up their old one
till it's about as good as new."—
Puck.
The Amiable Plutocrat "But
riches do uot bring happiness." The
Unamiablo Pauper "But I ain't
lookiu' for happiness. All I want is
comfort."—lndianapolis Journal.
Judge—"Have you anything to say
before the court passes seutenco?"
Prisoner—"Well, all I've got to say
is, I hope you'll consider the extronie
youth of my lawyer, aud let me ofl
easy."
Little Edgar—"Pa, what's a lineal
descendant?" Pa—"He is generally
some one who is trying to get through
the world on a reputation somebody
' made before he was born." —Chicago
! Times-Herald.
"I seo by the newspapers," ro
. marked Reeder, "that tho miners in
the Klondike are sending out appeals
for wives." "Is that so?" ejaculated
; Ilenuypeck, in an eager whisper,
I "They can have mine."
j "You are not opaque, aro you?"
sarcastically asked one man of another
I who was standing in front of him at
i the theatre. "Faith, an' Oim not,"
replied the other. "It's O'Brien thot
Oiaui."—Chicago News.
Each man is apt to deem, wo'ro told,
That fellowman his frleud,
Who never asks to borrow gold,
But bus some he will lead.
—Elliott's Magazine.
They were engaged. "Life," she
' said, as she arose from the piano
' stool, "will be one long, sweet soug
! after we are married." "That settles
it, then," firmly responded her lover,
as he picked up his hat and took his
departure.—Ohio State Journal.
"As I understand it," says Mrs,
Gazzam, "by the wireless telegraph
system the messages go right through
the air "Yes, that is cor
rect," assented Mr. Gazzem. "Then
a person who has just filed a message
in the telegraph office may swallow
his own words oji his way home."—
Harper's Bazar.
The Feinlnlne Observer.
Women desire sympathy; men pre
fer help.
What a lot of trouble we could avoid
if we ouly learned not to worry?
The average young man of the day
thinks himself about fifty years ahead
of the times.
Many really worldly women cannot
overcome their nervousness at the ar
rival of a telegram.
It is either the very young woman
or the one who feels youth oreeping
away from her that treasures clip
pings of poetry.
A woman is quiok to believe a man
cares for her, but a man never seems
to be quite convinced that a woman
loves him until she wearies him with
hor affection.
A woman can write the most exaot
iug essay in an awfully oramped posi
tion and with a perfect terror of a pen;
a man. ou the other hand, must have
the most felicitous environment to be
able to even receipt a bill. —Philadel-
phia Times.
Carrying Loas Across a Chasin.
Europe's unique transportation wry
!is the Forst Rope Road. In the cau
j ton of Orisons, on the 'dizzy preoi
! pice of Via Mala (the bad way), a
| deep defile of Switzerland along the
j upper Rhine, walled in by precipices
I in some places 1600 feet high, it is so
! diffioult to get the felled trees across
the valley that a wire rope railway
j hangs from the mountaiu top across
j the valley down to Rougelleu. To
, this cable are fastened big logo by
| rope and pulley, wbioh slowly are
carried across the vulley. When se
vere storms sweep down from the
mountain passes, frequently the sys
tem gets tangled, and then it is neces
sary for some one to make the perilous
journey out on the rope to unravel
the mass.