Freeiand Tribune Established ISSB. PUBLISHED EVERY MONDAY AND THURSDAY-. BY TEE TRIBUNE PRINTING UOMPANT, Limited OFPICK: MAIS STREET ABOVE CENTRE. FKEELAND, PA. BUB*Clll*"riON HAT^CS: One Year $ 1.50 htx Months 75 tfour M"n'.hs 50 Two Months .25 The ilato which the subscription is paid to is on the address label of each paper, the change of which to a subsequent uate he* cornet* a receipt for remittance. Keep tlu U^ur* in advance of the present date, lit- Tort promptly to this office whenever pape/ l? not received. Arrearages must bo pait When subscription is discontinued. Slake all nwiv y orders, checks, etc*,payable to the Tribune printing Company, Jjimitrd. The two great material conquests which tnnrk the nineteenth century are the building of the Pacific rail roads and the digging of the Suez canal. The war department reports that there are now 10,8!;;, 152 American citizens eligible for military duty. These iigures are enough to make the entire Kuropeau menagerie pause and ponder before tackling. More than 13,000 Michigan farmers raised sugar beets :or the first time last summer, the result being a crop large enough to keep ton factories busy, and it is expo/ted that Ihe state will soon he able to produce all the sugar it needs. Whatever may ho said for vivisec t:ou as practised by learned and skil lul surge us who experiment for the be .etit of humauity, there can he no possible defence for introducing vivi senion into any school or college for purposes of mere phsioiogica't in .si action, observes the Christian Reg ister. The names of habitual drunk ards a e posted in public places in Kenosha, Wis., and the other day tlie common cotiucil passed an ordinance provid ing that habitual drunkards who have been posted "have tintypes or photo graphs of themselves attached to the poster, and that unless the parties so posted are able to pay for said ph ito graphs, then the relatives be required to stand the expense, lu case there are no relatives, then the • ity is re sponsible for the cost. CI iris employol in a New Brunswick department store have organized an auti slang soci ;y. Fifty girls have joined it. The girls do not bind themselves not to use slang. In fact, thev each will en. oarage the other to u ■ sucii e vpressi us, for the <: ore dang the more money there will be in the treasury a tue end of the year, and the better ti me can be pro vol 1. M cm he! s hind thomscives to pay ii.to ilio treasury oue cent for each slang word or expression used in the hearing of another person. There probably will be some disputes us to what is slang and what is not, hut these are to be settled by vote as they arise. A party of veteran newspaper men were tnlkiugthe other day about tinea Albany reporters who became mem bers of the cabinet of th • prosi lent ol' tiie United States: tho late Daniel Mauuing, secretary of tho treasury during Cleveland's fir t administra tion; DauielS. Lamont, secretary of war during Cleveland's second admin istration, and Charles Emory Smith, now postmaster-general. It was less than 25 years ago that they sat side by side reporting the proceedings of tho .New York legislature. Colonel Micli ener of Indiana recalls an even more remarkable c unhination which ap peared in tho United States court of Indiana some years ago. Walter Q. Gresham, tha prebdiug judge, after ward became secretary of state. Beu amin Harrison, who prosecuted tho easo,afterward became president of tho I nited States, while Thomas A. Ifen d id;.-, was afterward vice president. .Joseph I'. McDonald and Davi I Tur ]>ie, who aftc: vard became senators, were on the other side. That group, lor distinction, was probably never s 11 pass. I in a single stu e: oue presi deni, oue vice-president, a secretary of fctute and two I'nited Stale* senators. A Banq.r'Underground. <•• 1 P.ca'udz'i.'nf). the governor of I • South Wales, has had a novel ex : i nee. While on a visit to the rol licrics of Newcastle he was entertained ♦ a banquet in a coal mine 300 feet below the surface of the earth. In a batcher 00 feet long, 15 feet wide and feet high. 70 guests sat down to din r The novel dining room showed no cigns of what it had been, for electric u hts, flags, evergreens and carpets had transformed it into an elegant apartment. Deducting dubious ves9efs, the com pleted battleships of England now num ber 36 and those of France and Rus sia 38. TO MY OWN. BY EDWIN L. BAJBIN. Xlio squirrel lier liid In his hollow tree, All wrapped lu his long, soft tall; Tho rabbit is gtuggled us snug can bo Tu his homo'neuth the old fouoo rail; Tin* partridge is only a bun oh of down Where thickest the arching brush They la the forest and we In the town, Hush, my honey-boy, hush. Tho field-mouse curls In a velvet bull Fur muter the dead ftwump grass; In ills hole by the frozou waterfall The mink dreams oft of tho buss; And every ohlck of the ground and air Is cuddled iu huveu deep— -80 horn, 111 tho glow of tho firelight fair. Sleep, my houey-boy, sleep. The north wind romps with tho whirling snow; Sly Jack Frost noses about; But wood and Held are abed—for no, Not even the owl is out. Aud here, where the motherlcia's breast Is warm, Ami motherlcia's arms aro tight. Safe from the suow ami tho frost uud storm, Good-sight, honey-boy, good-uight. —Saturday Evening Post. 003300030000000300DCJ000005 | A LAWYER'S STORY. § 03030330DOOOr000030000030 .—/- - j OUTH ia iinpa- TtriC y yty tient aud tbe V /s?g twelve weary : iVP) months that had *6 - \- crept hy Mince I passed my f>c1 -=Svil|iT|ipi trying' examiua t'°" al "' keen lulmittL ' a to u '° •va* - * bar seemed au eon of time. I hired n cozy little oliieu iu n bnildiug filled with scores of promineut law firms. After ar ranging my well-stocked library, I nailed up a uow sign among the rest aud waited-for my cliouts to appear. It soou became a sad trial of pa tience. Among tho many brilliant lights .of tho day my own name passed un noticed. Day after day, and month after month, I attended the courts or passed the time in perusing cele brated trial cases. Like Micawbnr, I was waiting for something to turn up. The small capital with which I had started was dwindling away at an alarming pace and, as yet, I saw no prospective fee. Oue pleasant afternoon Stanley Ferris, a young lawyer, -who, like my self, was unwillingly idle, dropped in to see me. "What news, Jack?" he aske carelessly. "Same as usual," I replied, d spondently. "I've a notion to paea off in the wilderness for a few weeks. Everybody is out o£ town, and there is little prospect of picking up a fee until they return." My friend was about to reply, when there came a low tap at the door. "Come in," I said, carelessly, hiukiug it some chance acquaint ance. As the door opened my heart gave a great bound. I felt that my long looked-for client had arrived at last. At a single glance I took in all the details of my visitor's appearance, lie was a middle-aged man, dressed in plain costume, and with u seeming ly good-natured face. Most men would have set him down at once as a jolly, open-hearted individual; but I did not. My constant attendance at tho courts bad taught me much. There was something underlying bis oily smile and obsequious manner that made me distrust him. "Is this Mr. Burns?" he asked, blandly. I bowed in tho affirmative and re quested him to be seated. Stanley left the room at that moment, and the stranger continued: "My namo is Brown, sir—Martin Brown. I have called upou you in a case of emergency." "In what way can 1 bo of service?" I asked. > "My friend, who is in a dying con dition, wishes you to draw up a will at once." I seized my hut and hurriedly fol lowed my visitor In tho elegantly furnished room of a hotel we found the man. Owing to tho heavily darkened room, I could distinguish nothing of liis features, lie lay with his face turned toward tho wall, and in feeble tones dictated the terms of his will, as [ drew it up. I accomplished my task to liis satis faction, and placed the document be fore him to sign. As he did so I noticed a deep red scar running across ihe back of his hand. The whole of the dying man's property—an immense one, by tho way—was left to lus dear friend, Martin Brown. Two of the servants had been called in to witness tho signature, and every thing was performed according to law. As I left tho houso the smiling Mr. Brown handed 1110 my fee. It was a beggarly amount—the moro so from Iho fuel that Mr. Brown was soon to become wealthy. The man's wily smtic, too, " :hilc liis friend lay at the point of death sickened me, and I was glad to hurry awav. On my return I met Stanley, and in answer to his in quiries I related tho circumstances. "A beggarly miser," lie exclaimed, lidiguautly. "I'd never believe it Vm his appearance." It was nearly a week afterward that a young lady, dressed in deep mourn ing, called upon me. This time T had a ease in reality. She was not more than twenty, but her beautiful face bore tte impress of deep grief. In a few words she stated her business, retaining the names until she had heard my opinion. Her story was as follows: Three weeks before her uncle had left home in company with a man he called his friend. While in the city ho had been taken suddenly ill and died. She liad i'aceived no information of the fact until p'tor her relative was buried. Then oame the strangest part of the •tory. Two years before her unole had made a will making her, his only liv# ing relative, his sol© heiress. On her arrival in the city, however, alio had been shown a will drawn up by her uncle on bin death-bed, iu which 110 left his entire property to his friend. She could conceive of 110 reason for such a strauge act, and, distrusting tho friend, had sought out a lawyer. Luckily she was unacquainted with tiie names of our distinguished law yers. My glaring gold sign had been the lirst to catch her eye, and so she called upou 111 c. "The case certainly looks suspi cious," I remarked. "I think I will be able to make a fight iu your behalf. Now, will you kindly furnish me with the names of these parties?" "My uncle, sir, was Andrew Thur her. His frieud calls himself Martin Brown." Involuntarily my pen dropped from my surprised fingers. It was the very will 1 had drawn up myself. She turned pule as I related the cir- J cuuistances and arose to leave. 1 "I see I have made an awkward mistake iu calling upou you," she said. *adly. "Wait one moment," I replied, quickly. "This Martin Brown is a total stranger to me. If he has been engaged in an act of villainy I shall not shield him." Wo entered into a close conversa tion, at the end of which I said, con fidently: "Leave the case to me. If I fail it shall bo through no fault of mine." She accepted my offer with thauks and left 1110, thiukiug deeply. During the interview I had learned that tho deceased had no scar upou his right hand. Now, certain of vil lainy iu the affair, I set to work dili gently to iiud it out. Working cautiously. I found tho mail who had lain the body out for burial. From liini I learned that he had performed his task on tho morn ing of June 23, just tou hours before I was called upon to draw up tho will. Tho will had been already offered for probate, so there was no time to be lost. Andrew Thurber's body was disin terred uud tho contents of the stom ach analyzed. It was found to con tain poison. By some means the sly wretch got wind of my movements and attempted to fly. At that moment the defectives seized him. Confronted by the terri ble proofs, he made a full confession. Before his trial came off he ended his life by swallowing a quantity of the same deadly poison with which he had killed his victim. Miss Thurber met with 110 further obstacles in regaining her rights. Something still more important hap pened to mo from my connection with the case. I wooed and won the beau tiful girl for my wife. As Stanley Ferris remarked afterward, I "gained fame and fortune with a rash." Ill* Sclieino to Win a Girl. "Ho was n good fellow," said he, "but young aud without much capital. The girl was a beauty and loved the boy, but the father objected, and de manded that the boy show that ho was capable of supporting a wife. This was in St. Louis about teu years ago, aud tho boy came to me with his troubles. "'Novel- mind,'said I. 'l'll fix it up all right. By tho way, how muoh will you take for your right leg?' "He looked at me as though I were crazy, but made no answer. " 'l'll give you SIO,OOO for it,' snid I. 'Will you take it.?' " 'No, I won't,' said he. 'What do yon tnko mo for?' "Well, I icuow the girl's father; he was a merchant, and I called to see him. We finally drifted around to talking about this young fellow, aud the old man ilared a little, staling that he wanted some ouo who could sup* port a wife to have his daughter. "'Support a wife,' snid I, iu sur prise; 'why, 110 certainly can do all that. Only a few days ago ho refused • •10,000 for a pieco of property.' " 'His own property?' asked the father. 'Certaiuly,' said I. "'Who offered him tho money?' asked he. " 'I did, aud he refused it,' I an swered. 'He claimed it was worth more.' "Well, this made a hit, and no mors questions were asked. The boy is doing well now, aud has a good family. T haven't spoken to tho father since."—Washington Times. A Ctiro FOP Leproiy. Two dozen specimens of the plaul known in Venezuela as the tau' tan have been sent from Washington to Hawaii for the purpose of making a test of its alleged power as a cure for leprosy. Tho plant will bo tested at tho leprosy hospitals there, where 1073 lepers will afford every facility for a thorough trial. Surgeon Car michol, of tho Murine Hospital, has also sent half a dozen bottles of tho I liquid preparation to Molakai, and j this will bo used for immediate tests [ while plants will bo set out aud culti vated, with the purpose of providing unlimited fresh matter for further use. Wonderful stories are current iu Ven ezuela about, the marvelous curative properties of tua tua when applied to leprosy, and tho Government phy sicians attach considerable importance to the evidence given them. It is proposed aiso to test it iu tho island of Guau, that tiny speck of Pacific laud that came to us with our other Spanish war acquisitions. Irish Ad vim. "Never he critical upon the ladies," was tho maxim of an old Irish peer, remarkablo for his homage to the sex. "The only way that a true gentlemau ever will attempt to look at the fault; of a pretty woman is to shut his eyes." I —Collier's Weekly, MEDICINE IN NEW YORK IN 1800 i'r, Carney Dewribeti f these tid-bits.— New York Sun. Facts About Ilusii.it. General*. Herewith are presented some in teresting particulars regarding the present status of the entire staff of :he Russian geuerals. The facts were secured from a conversation with an army officer, aud are undoubtedly authentic. Three times every year the "Russian general staiV at St. Petersburg pre paies a register of the generals, listing them according to seniority. These lists are never printed, however. Ac cording to the last register, the whole □umber of the genoralsor the imperial ii-my is 1218. 'Che ages of these of ficers range from forty to eighty-nine \ enrs, and of the number 101 are full generals, 305 are lieuteuaut-geuerals and 782 are major-generals. The gen erals receive in salarios an aggrsgute of 7,000,000 rubles a year. Of tlie full generals three are field marshals general, thirty-seven are aids-de-camp, and of these four are foreigners, bill, notwithstanding this fact, hold this-high rank and are at tached to tho household of his Im perial Majesty, The remaining fifty seven full generals are in command of infantry, cavalry, artillery or engineer corps. The age of the full generals varies from fifty-four to eighty-nine years. As to their education, five lmv3 re ceived instructions at universities ti nt the higher military academics. Tw. have passed through both tho common academy and tlie general staff academy, tha highest in the empire. Forty seven have passed through only one academy, aud forty-one have received their education outside these Institu tions. Tho ages of the lieutenant genera's ranges from forty-five to eighty-fivo years, aud of the major generals from forty to seventy-eight years. --Moscow Correspondence Chi cago Record. Halting Pig* on "tlie 15ott!c.* Charles Crotz, of Moon Township, who some weeks ago was compelled to raise a number of little pigs by the time-honored means of tho bottle, has achieved a complete and sigua': suc cess. The whole twelve grow fat. and hearty and have all been sola. They were all fi-e animals, end a number wcie above tha average.—Beaver Fails (Peuu.) Review. ANN PURKIN'S TRAGEDY. A WOMAN OF STRONG MENTALITY HELD DOWN BY ECCENTRICITV. An Ohio Foliool Teuolinr Whose Mind IV hh Full of llri Ilia lit Plans For Re forming the World—Soltl Papers In Grotesque Garb In Cleveland. WITH the bruin of a Mrne. de Stael, the iletormina tion of a Charlotte Cor day anil the luck of Cy rano ile Bergenia, nil tivintoil. may hap, but still so prououueeil that they made their possessor utmost a beggar instead of a queen. Anu Purkin, seller of newspapers anil writer of poems and essays, died in a bed of charity at St. Alexis Hospital, Cleve land, Ohio, a few weeks ago, aged fifty years. For a score of years sho had been the most picturesque figure of Cleveland streets from the fact that she wore the clothes that it pleased her to wear. For most of those years she has been hungry, at least part of the days, simply because sho would not nse her wits as the world wished her to use them. She was a crank, but a brilliant one. Her love of let ters was ideal, passionate ami unre quited—she died for her opinions. Ann Purkin died with a trunk full of poems and essays, half of which are so good that many writers of poetry anil philosophy would have been glad to have written them. But she was not only a dress-reformer but a reformer of everything else almost. Years ago sho addicted hersolf fo spelling reform, and, as in all things, she went to tho utmost extreme of it. Mho would not allow a line sho hail written to be printed otherwise than sho liad written it, both as to spelling and punctuation. She would rather starve. This kept her out of priut and made rubbish of what would have been otherwise available matter, for in whatever sho wrote there was more or less of tho force and bril liancy of the pen that has a right to write for print. She made one excep tion to this last summer when, during tho street-car strike, she used to take to the newspaper offices articles urg ing the cessation of violence in the fight against the company. With a tone in her voice which a Hindu mother might have had when she seut her girl child to the husband that had bought her, sho would say, "You may change it if you want to," for she had gone over the ground often enough to know no newspaper would print what she wrote as sho wrote it. PRESSED LIKE A HOY. Ann Pnrkin's death was the only kind of a death her life could have brought her. All winter, when sho was not ill, she was at her usual cor ner on tho busy square, selling the afternoon papers. Her voice was a shrill squeak as she cried out the names of the papers. To almost all the newspaper buyers she had ceased Jo be a curio, they had known her so long. If those who did not know her stopped to gaze they saw that in her lace which kept them from laughing at her clothes. Her ill ess consisted of a boy's woolen shirt—for she was a very little creature, less than five feet —a coat over it that lookod as though it had beou made by tho wearer with tho disregard fur it that sho showed for all the other things that seemed to her unessentials, and a pair of short trqji'sers-like garments that reached to her knees, The breoohes were made of what looked like pieces of horseblauket, aud wore shaped not unlike an ordinary pair of trousers cut off at the knees. Her stockings were white anil her shoes heavy ones such as working boys wear. Any thing in tho way of head covering wonlil do, anil there was not in the whole of her costume any attempt at ornamentation or care. Funny as her clothes wero, one for got them in looking into her face. Tho eyes were clear, small and ex pressive and there was in them, when one talked with her, tho look of the soul that thinks it lias never been un derstood and has grown hopeless of ever being. But there was not a prouder spirit in the breast ol any woman, It is not known that she ever had a penny that "ho did not earn. People who offered her charity wero rebuked with a severity they never forgot. It one gave her a uieke'. for a paper and walked away sho ran alter him and made him take his change. Oneo sho was ill for a week or two and the eity relief department sent her a ton of coal, piling it up in the one room where sho lived, against her protests. It was in tho dead of winter and she was forced to use about a quarter of the ton of coal. Then she carried what was left of it down the stairs and threw it out into tho street, from where it was quickly taken by the less scrupulous women of tho tene ment. Then she went to tho city hall, made her way into tho Mayor's office and handed him a dollar, say ing: "That is for what I used out of that load of coal you sent to me. I tlnow the rost of it into the street, lint I want to pay for all I used and 1 want you to take the money so your thie- iug clerks can't say I didn't pay it." REFUSED CHARITY FOOD. A week before sho died the other people in the Detroit street tenemont in which Ann Purkin lived remem bered that sho had not been seen for some days. She never locked her door, and wheu they went into her room they found her p.louo in tho cold, thore being neither fuel nor lire in tho room, Jonly her trunkfnl of manuscripts. existed botweeu her and the poor.people among whom she lived something of the feeling that mailt) tho slums of Paris worship Vorlaiuo. Tho refusal of tho world to give the pootess what she deserved and them what they wanted made a bond of sympathy. Thc-y brought licr food, which she would not eat, and I built her a fire, which she could not i prevent. For years she Las eaten j nothing but fruit and such other food I as she could eat uncooked. That was | a part of her belief, that only un cooked vegetable food should be I eaten. For years she ate nothing but | fruit, raw oatmeal and raw rice soaked in water. She hated a doctor as she did correct spelling and skirts, ! and was a hydropath. When the ! other people in the tenement called a j doctor she refused to even allow him j to talk to her, and she was taken to J the hospital against her violent pro- I t3st3. She was too small and weak ' and too nearly starved to resist par- I ticularly, eveu iu words. At the hos- j pital she said she had not a friend in the world or a relative, and it was] here that she displayed the only tliiug I that seemed at all ) ; ke womanly weak ness that is known of her. Jhe .'aid she wanted to be buried in the old cemetery at Berlin Heights, a country village twenty-four miles from Cleve land, where the graves of her father and mother are. WAS AX OHIO SCHOOLTEACHER. Berlin Heights is a small country community. There was once a wave I of free-thinking sentiment there, and j later the "bloomer" craze. Ann Par kin bad been a schoolteacher there and was the star of the woman's t club. She donned bloomers aud wore them ever after. It is told that she was married at that tiuio aud that her husband told lier she could not be his wife aud wear bloomers, too. * She chose the bloomers; and they separated amicably. This the dead newswoman denied, insisting that she had never been married. She said her family name was Perkins, but that was not the way to spell it, aud ai there was but oue of her, her name must be ! singular instead of plural. All her young lii'o in the country i sho had been writing poems and es- j says, but tbo editors always changed 1 them and thereby harrowed her soul, j So, twenty years ago, she weut to j Cleveland. She was determined to i make the world hear her. She lee- | lured on dross reform aud wrote more , poetry. The poetry and some essays j sho had printed in a pamphlet and ] sold it iu the streets in her bloomer costume. While the novelty lasted she did fairly well, but Cleveland was I not then large euouglisothat it ottered ! a permanent market, aud as soou as | she had made money enough out of i oue book she would get out another. Sales dropped off, though, and she went to Chicago thirteen years ago to j work on a womau-sutt'rage publication. j After remaining in Chicago six ] mouths, sometimes lecturing and ] sometimes workiug as a servant, she came back to the Cleveland streets I and newspapers. The newsboys came to recognizing her as a judgo for their differences aud advisor for their : troubles. One of her principles was that when one had made money 1 enough for his necessities ho should , stop aud give others a chauee. When ! sho had sold a certain number of pa pers—aud she sold them rapidly be- , cause of the attention sho attracted sho would stop and go home. • WANTED TO REI'ORM TIIE WORLD. Her miud wa* always full of brill iant plaus for reforming the world and ; making it a heaven. A lifelong vege- j tarian of the strictest sort, not using milk or eggs, the scheme that filled i her uiiud during her last days was a magazine to bo devoted to vegetarian ism. The simplicity of her mind is shown in the fact that she was going to call it "The Fig Loaf" and edit it herself. In her delirium iu the hos pital sho bemoaned her inability to liud a backer for the magazine. {She refused to take any medicine at the hospital, refused food aud would not evou allow the hospital doctor to take her temperature. When any one approached her bedside r-lie would ask "Are you a doctor?" aud if the answer was "Yes" she would insist that ho go away from her. Her attitude toward all iiumauity Avas hostile, savo that she took a motherly interest in news boys, and toward reporters showed a disposition that was a quaint mixture of friendliness aud adoration,so strong was her love of all that pretended to the guise of literature. At the last, before she died, the hospital doctors got to telling her that they were re porters in order to do the little that was possible iu her aid.—Chicago Record. Disks T<- Groat. A rtable lad was taken ill on a visit to London, and a friend gave him tin address of a doctor to whom to go. The lad camo back shortly and re ported progress. "I've got some mediciuo," said lie "but I'm blowed it I went to that doc tor of yours!" "Why?" asked his friend. "Well," replied the boy, "I was just about to go in when I saw on the door jfiato his name, 'Dr. X.' and be low it 'lO co I.' When I unw tha. J said to myself. I'll be hanged if 1 take any such risks as that!' So 1 went two doors further, aud saw an other plate, with 'Dr. Y,' aud below it 4 :i to 5.' The odds were shorter, and 1 weut to him."—Pearson's ! Weekly. Aulcfliluvi'in ISonoynril. Phosphate rook is mined in South Carolina ami converted into tv flour. In the mines have been found many queer substances which givo ovideuos or life before the deluge. These antediluvian relies have attracted tho attention of scientists of two worlds. There are moustor tusks, tooth of all sizes and ohapo3, fish bones in great quautity, i.ll of which is ground up and made to produce the great South ern staple—cotton. Japan to-day li:u 2300 mi'.oa ol railway, 11,720. wiles of laud tele graphs, 387 of Biibranriue, aud 1114 telegraph oilioo*. MAKES WONDERFUL KNIVES. j S Secret of Tempering Steel by Which He Will Not Profit. I Dan Stockton has the secret of I tempering steel that was believed to have been lost with the death [ ol' the makers of the famous To | ledo blades, writes the Fort At kinson (Wis.) correspondent of I the Chicago Chronicle. And this secret will die with him, for he can not tell how he does it. It is all in his head and finds expression in lira work, but if he wished he could not toll his process. Dau makes carving knives, not swords, but the knives are of a quality so rare that the old Toledo sword is the only thing that is a fitting comparison. A few people in Chicago, New York, Cincinnati aud Milwaukee have knives made by Dan which they would not exehango for the weight of the knife in gold, if another could not be procured, aud the knife is not light either. These carvers are marvels. Their temper is so flno that they will keep a razor edgeforyears,withuothingbut a steel as a sharpener, and they are a source of constant delight to those for tunate enough to possess them, and a perpetual guarantee of good nature iu the head of the household who does the carving. But the knives are not on tho market and money cannot buy them. That is to say, he does not make them for every Tom, Diek and Ilarry who comes along with the ; price and wants a knife. He only makes them for his friends aud for those who are fortunate enough to get n friend to intercede for them to have Dau make them knives. To these people he charges a nominal price, which is not in the least commensu rate with the value of the knife. Dau is about fifty-five years old and has spent his whole life on these waters. He is a blacksmith by trade, knocked around the West for a while, was with the army during tho Civil War, acquiring in military service so much rhenmatism that he cannot fol low his trade, though very expert at it. Ho can temper steel as no other man can and has plenty of work tem pering tools to out stone, which is a great industry here, but he never has work enough to interfere with his go ing down on Koshkonoug every Sat urday for two days of shooting and lishiug. He will make the seven miles down to Sim Card's place if he has to pull a boat alt the way, and when he is there lie is in his element, iio matter what the season of the year. Dau has been making those won derful carving-knives fora great many years, aud he can make any kind of knife you may draw him a plan of better than any otio else in the coun try, but he cannot make a business of it. He would no more think of hav ing two knives to make at the same time thau ho would of flying. II would disturb him so that he could not make any to have three to finish at once. He has a proper pride in his work, and the knife, when finished, bears "D. Stocking" iu bold lettering on the blade, aud epicures who do dainty aud artistic carving are proud enough to show a knife with that im print. Dr. Franklyn 11, Tower, of Mil waukee, had a knife mado from a spe cial design he drew himself that is the envy of all his friends, bnt they can not get similar ones because they do not know Dau Stocking. Postmaster John A. Childs, of Fvanstou, has made all his club friends jealous by Allowing them one of Dan's enrving knives, and Mr. Loudon, of the Skin ner & Loudon firm in Cincinnati, has done the same thing in the Qupen City, while George Tnylor is boasting of their wonderful quality around Marinette. ->a- Dan takes proper pride in making such knives as no one else can make, but if he should make any money out of his knives ho would bo miserable. I)o Not Drink Water. There are at least two individuals in this country who have lived without wnter. Dr. John Haddou, a medical man at Hawick, in Roxburghshire, states that there is no difficulty iu doiug so if a strict vegetarian diet is adhered to. "We get," he says, "plenty of fluid iu a cup of tea or in fruit and other foods; aud I find it a great advantage, more especially when traveling, to bo able to do without drinking either water or milk, the weil known vehicles of so mauy dis eases." The second abstainer from drinking water—Mr. John W. King, a wholesale jeweler at Clerkeuwell— says there is uothiug wonderful iu doing without water for drinking pur poses, and ho stated: "I have not drunlc any water since the cholera visited London, I am afraid to think how many years ago, and for the last fifteen or twenty years I have been an abstaiu'er."—Tit-Bits. Contraband of IVur. Many old stories are told with re gard to tha difficulties in detecting contraband of war, but thcro is an other side to tho question. During tho Franoo-Prussian War a lady in a carriage was stopped cn her way through the Prussian lines. A search was institntcd to see whether she had been playing the spy or had suspicious papers. Nothing wa.3 found until tho Prussians cumo to a certain black box, which tho lady positively ro fuaed to givo up or allow to be opuued. Sho was told that sho must. She refused, nbused the soldiers as cowards and soreainod loudly. Eventu ally tho box was opened by force in spite of her resistance, aud then it was found to bo full of toilet acces sories—contraband of the tournament of flirtation. She was passed on with apologies aud smiles. When He IK at Ilust. A clever man always likes to sit next to a clover woman at dinner, because a clever womau never expects a man to bo.—Now York Press.