In the comuioroe of the world Ger
man trade is growing at Great Brit
ain's expense, and the United States
takes from both.
Literature like nearly everything
else nowadays, has come to tie a com
mercial commodity, governed by the
laws of demand and supply, and the
author, to be successful, must "get
down to business."
As the mothers' congress has given
rise to a mighty demand fir a fathers'
congress, it is evident that the small
boy will have to go into the congress
business himself unless Be ts to lose
his liberties altogether;
If every cigarette in the worhi were
destroyed human morals would sensi
bly improve. Undertakers will tell
you tbat when the body of a confirmed
cigarette smoker is eubalmed it turns
green. This shows that the poison
docs not stop at tire lungs, but sat
urates the entire body.
Our Chicago man Is clamoring for
tbe coinage of a silver seventy-five
cent piece. He claims that it "would
stimulate trade," as a purchaser
would not bo so much impressed by
the cost of a thing wlien he could pay
one coin for a seventy-tive-cent arti
cle, as ho is when lie continues 'to
hand out a half-dollar and a quarter
dollar for that article.
Fashionable Xew Y'ork City has
abandoned to a very great-extent new
fashioned door bells and substituted
old-fashioned knockers. Tlie older,
tbe more battered and mistghtly tbe
knocker is, tbe higher price it com
mands. Shrewd manufacturers are
pandering to this fad by getting up
imitations of these antiquities. In ap
pearance tbey are more antique than
the originals.
It is queer how many works are
published treating tile novel histori
cally. The books may Bo said to show
the general interest In fiction, bat
here is tho world running over with
novels, novels innumerable, of which
no man or woman, even tf a profes
sional reader, can read more than a
small part Are novels so many that
conscientious persons can only read
about them? It Is a practice common
in many branches of knowledge, ami
sure to commend Itself to the eom
fortable soul.
It ts uot too much to say tbat by
the death of Stephen Crane one oi
the young American writers of most
promise has gone. His literary per
formance often exhibited poor taste
and tbat particular kind of affectation
known as overstraining; but It slxrwad
signs, none tbe less, of real and virile
genius. Mr. Crane's later Work was
not marked by his early crudities and
In tbe "Whilomville Stories," for in
stance, in Harper's Magazine, his
touch is as delicate and his thoughts
as keen as Mark Twain's EVCD
though Kiplingesque at times, his
spirit was distinctly American. In tie
great mass of labored fietidn and oon
ventional authorship of to-day, out
pauses at the name of Stephen Crana
Hypnotism has vastly in
vogue in the last fifteen of twenty
years. The causes of its phenomena
and the forces which regulate and
control them arc as little known as
ever, but this does not bar its ac-
ceptance as a form of social amuse
ment, nor its exploitation by thought
less youths and greedy charlatans,
whose only object Is to gain a little
cheap notoriety, or wring a living
from a credulous populace. It lias
been forcibly demonstrated, however,
that men of sound judgment ami ex-
perience are required to make success
ful and safe operators, and it is just
as logical for the law to license this
profession and impose rigid restric
tions as others involving a tedious
course of study and preparation,
thinks the Atlanta Constitution.
What may be termed a novelty
characteristic of tbe times was made
the feature of a club dinner of rail
road officials in Xew York City tbe
other day. Of this club. Senator
Chauncey M. Depew is president, but
owing to the pressure of public du
ties in Washington lie was unable to
be present and preside. There was a
time when such a circumstance would
have prevented the Senator from malt
ing an address to the gathering.
Times have changed, however, and
conditions have changed with them
y the aid of telephone receivers
laced at each seat the diners were
maided to listen to a speech addressed
to then) by their absent president, who
was talking at a distance of over
miles The incident is a striking one
as Illustrative of the extent to which
the progress of invention has broken
down the barriers of space.
THE ANGLEWORM.
An Angleworm yawned and stretched bim
sell out,
Then sighed and drew himself in—
wAlthough I can render myseai sliarfc-and
stout.
Then instantly quite long and tMn,
This earthly existence 1 always haw found
To !><• n most consummate bore;
There's nothing to do but make hok in
the ground,
And nothing, alas! to live for!" /
*Tvrt. tut," said the (Jrub Worm, iddeg
matic and slow,
"Why look you so sad and sedate"?
Cheer up, little lirother—you otutain)y
know
That tisliormen love you—for belt,
Though some creatures lead a umuiltooaas
life,
That may be, indeed, murh man? .spicy,
Tbcy pay up with Iveauachcs, mud t*>-
rows and strife
Unknown to tlx? genus lun&rici.
•'Just think," paid the Grub W'aro, "bow
simply you're mu'le—
Haw uncomplicated you grew:
The gard'ner may cut you in twirin with
his spade.
And instead of one worm, ore two!
Each portion strikes out in a diHerout
way,
And soon lxth are hardy arid fat!
Where else will you tiail 111 a ereaUiPo of
clay
Such wonderful structure as that?
Serenely eontente<l the Angleworm then
Resumed his old habits oi thought.
And never—no, never—grew weary agittn
Of his gloomv terrestrial lot,
Though a small onion bod and a CUCCIBIX-I
patch
llis orbit of action d-elined,
And life was a bore, pretty much as be
fore.
He never tltcreaitx?r repined.
Erer Angle-worm lived as an .VugforwoFin
should —
Was bound by no statutes or code—
A:i idealist he, and tho' pious and good,
lie dreamed of no better ulio-le,
And Death and the Grave had no torpors
_ for him—
This worm lieneoth human nwrtempt. j
G>inr>ared with which we aie ;i& bright
berapliim,
From sin und pollution excriQTt.
Ah, Angleworm! Angkrworin! Happy thy
lot!
In Earth's tranquil breast to abide,
Without a regret for t-l things jwu Iwue
not —
Impassive, whatever betide
Suit her any nor hope, nor passion inr
fear.
Nor visions of happier states.
I Gin light with a smile or dim with a twos,
lie 6conis both tho Furies ami Kates.
And, bound to this poor little orMm of
Earth
That floats in tlx? Infinite Vast,
Man gropes about blindly, twixt anguish
and mirth,
And guesses and doubts to the hist.
May be. 'mongst tlx? millions af glorious
spheres
Tliat roll through the region? of God,
Are beings—of Jove and Apollo the peem,
To whom we are as Worms of the Clod!
iSiiirit.
§ Wben a Friend Deals |
I With a Friend.
M Eti ■Franklin Miohaal. pa
. iQQQfIQfIQQ.QOQQfICHJIjaI
S, "7*" XD you say tlie mortgage
* /\ is twenty-five hundred Jul
] kirs, due March 1st 1 '
£ "Ami you cahJt go* the
| money anywhere?"
"Novhens I've tried every, pfcms tn
town, even old Peddicord. Money is
tighter now at the !anks than at any
j time since the panic started. They
won't let ant a dollar eXrept To -old
customers. So if you can't do this,
| Bad, my home is gone, that's all"
"Hem! Just state that laupositton
' over again, Mac."
"It's this: I'll transfer the tttte of
the furm to you: you assume tin; mort
gage and hold the place in your name;
when the panic s over and I get
straightened out Til take tt lasck. pay
you for what you've paid out and for
your trouble besides, if I am nev
er able to redeem it, the CarniTl
be yours for good; understand?"
{ "Yes; but Mac, you surely know that
j this is not a good business pruposL
I tkm."
] "Yes, I know that well enough. It's
a proposition I would make to no-man
living except Itnlston lilalr. The hind
would bring at least seventy-live dol
lars an acre if times were good; urrw it
I would not sell at all, and if tbe mort
gage is foreclosed 111 git little or
nothing for my money ami work.
Olive and 1 are both sick and dis-
I couroged, but if you can do thts for
j us, we'll have one ekauoe left to get
on our feet again."
j "Well, I don't know what to say.
I must have time to think. My Irar
| dens are heavy enough now, as you
| know. At the same tins' I feel as
though I must help you. Hi tell you.
you drop in—say Thursday morning—
and I'll see what I can do for you."
Tho above is in substance tbe talk
that took iilace between the Reverend
Ralston Blair and Philip MeChire one
rooming in February, 1805. Tbe men
had been intimate from bpyliood.
j They graduated from school together,
: Illalr at the head of tin' class, Me
[ Clare ucnr tlie fooL Blair was bril
! I Unit and popular in school; McClure
] was dull nmi reserved. BlaJr passed
I tlirougli college and eutored tbe min
istry; McClure went from school to
the farm. Blair scored a success from
( the start; married a girl as ambitious
; as liimsclf, anil was at this time pos
] tor of tlie most fashionable church in
Ailsbury. McCluve married pretty
Olive Plnkney, bought an eighty-acre
farm two miles out from Ailsbury and
i prospered until hard times, poor crops,
I low prices and sickness combined to
i reduce liim to the extremity we have
\ seeu.
The feeling that existed between the
young men could not be called friend
ship; it was not reciprocal. On Mc-
Clnre's part it was genuine hero wor
ship. He idolized Blair; he gloried in
his successes, and, above alt else, bad
absolute faith in hint. Blair, on the
other hand, accepted McClttre's wor
ship and encouraged it because it sat
isfied the demand of n selfish nature.
He was one of those mortals who,
while- incapable of deep feelings him
self, was yet able to play upon the
heart strings of those about him.
But to resume our story. The out- j
oome of the talk recorded nbove was :
that McClure's farm was legally trans
ferred to Blair. MeClure at once
moved his wife and two babies to
Ailsbury; took possession of a small
cottage and found work in a brick
yard. lie was a good worker.
The farm was rented, and throe
years passed without Incident. But
tlx l souls of tlie McCluree were wrung
with anguish when they beheld the
havoc wrought by oitroks renters on
their little farm. The young orchard,
their special pride, was trampled to
death by horses and catttle; the lawn
iu front of tlx? house was turned into
a nursery for pigs and ge<?so, and
cockle-burs were fast taking the place
of oil other crops in the field. Still,
tile real owners of the land must suf
fer in silcnoo; they laid 110 right to
protest.
During ail tlrls time Mr. Bhilr ws
very busy ami the McClures could not
complain if they saw Isit little of
liim. ilis success as a preacher was
marked; his church was crowded at
every service; lecture committees
were most urgent in their demands
upon him. and. as a fitting crown to
all this, lie had just accepted a call
to 11 leading pulpit in the metropolis.
The MeClure family was as poor
nt tlie end of the three jvnrs as at the
beginning, hut they liad saved enotigh
money to pay nil back interest mi tlx?
mortgage. They could get time on
the mortgage now lx?eauso of Im
proved business conditions; good
health had come again, and, above ail,
they desired to put a stop to the ruin
on the farm.
With this in mind. ITrtltp catted one
morning upon Mr. Blair in his study.
The minister listened to all his vis
itor had to say, nerwusly marking
with a pencil tlie while on the table*
on his desk. Wben tlx- story was lin
islied lie said without looking yp:
"i see no necessity for opening up
that subject at this late day. Mac."
"But Ralston," reasoned MeClure,
"I feci able to run the farm nicely
now, and I thought that as you were
going away soon, you'd not want to
bother with it any longer, anyhow.
Besides, yon know I was to have it
back whenever I tliouglit best"
"No. sir," said Blair in great irrita
tion, "I don't know anything of the
kind. The deal hotween me and you
was well understood. I was to hold
your place or not, as I saw tit I took
it off your hands in good faith, to re
lieve you of a burden you were unable
to near. So considering, I sold the
farm to Peddicord Inst week."
Then a fearful tiling occurred. Het
those who have probed deep into the
htynan soul and laid ban? its innei
workings, tell whether Philip Me-
Clure's action was prompted by tlie
blind passion of tlie mmncm, by tlie
thought of ills loss, or by the shock
caused by tlx? sudden revelation of
Blair's true character, or by all ol
these combined. What he did was to
spring to ills feet and with one mur
derous blow with a chair strike the
minister to the floor and then ntnr out
into the street.
Before he had gone many steps the
horror of what he had done rushed
upoD him, and he hurried back in
breathless haste to undo as far as pos
sible the evil of his insane act He
found Blolr lying Just as he had fallen.
He Was dead. Tlx? corner of tlie .chair
had struck him on the temple and
cnusbed the skull.
Whnt •Tundra" Is.
-One of tlie words that the people
otf the United States will bear a good
many times this summer," said a
member of the Seattle Cliambe.r of
Commerce, "is Tundra.' It is in the
tmxlra or where it joins the bench
tliat tlie easiest gold digging ill tlx?
world is found at Capo Nome. Tlx?
-tundra,' as every one knows who lias
visited Alaskan coasts, is tlie low
ground lying Ix-tween tlie mountains
and the beach. It is marshy and cov
ered with grass and moss during tlie
summer and, it never thaws more than
a oouple of feet below tlx? surface.
While everybody talks about tlx? "tun
dra' and knows what it is by sight, not
one iu a thousand or more knows
whtTe or what tlx? word is from. I
am free to oonfoes I diduT know my
self until mi Eastern friend wrote out
to Seattle making Inquiries, and I be
gan to make Inquiries in Seattle. Not
a man of all the mitxTS and others I
asked could answer any simple ques
tion until I found a Hussion. Bo told
me the word was Russian and meant
low and marshy laud. "Tundra' dif
fers from 'steppes' in this that Tun
dra' is used to describe the low, flat
and ordinarily valueless hind tiotween
two streams and is common along the
coasts of Siberia and on the American
6ide of tlie Bering Straits, all of
which is 'tundra.' 'Steppes' originally
meant 11 sandy desert, but, by long
custom, it has come to menu grassy
plains as well. I don't know whether
tlx? word Is in American dictionaries
or not, for I haven't had time to look
| it up, but I know I hadn't beard it
a dozen times in my life till tlx? later
gold discoveries in Alaska."
"Couri of Trire Love,"
"Mean!" exclaimed the young man.
"Well, say! he's about the meanest
ever. What do you think he did?"
Of course they gave it up.
"Well, sir," lie explained, "tlioy have
one of tlie nicest little secluded porches
yon ever saw, and Tessie and I used
to sit over in tlie shadowest corner of
it nearly every evening."
"And be forbade it?" tbey suggested
inquiringly.
"Worse than that," be replied.
"How could it be worse than that?"
they asked.
"He put a eoat of luminous paint on
it," he answered, and of course noth
ing remained but to vote him the
prize for the best hard luck story of
the session.—Chicago I'ost.
EVER JOYOUS PORTO RICO
SI.MPLE PLEASURES THAT AMUSE
THE LIGHT-HEARTED NATIVES.
UepulfA of ttie Open-Air Life Native
Nole From Morn nil Night Street
Muskers Provide Much of tlio Fun—
What Spiggoty Signifiee.
It would be bard to And a towu more
sleepless tban San .Tuuu, Porto Rico,
writes the New York Times corre
spondent. From morning to night and
from night to morning the racket is
incessant. The oixm-oir life of the cli
mate doubtless explains in good part
the prevailing noises, for anything
happening anywhere can be beard
everywhere else. In the houses rooms
are divided only by thin partitions
that reach but eight or ulne feet from
the floor, leaving several feet of air
space above. A chair moved in a room
may be beard in every room in the
bouse. When oue inmate is retiring
and lets a shoe fall to the stone floor
instead of carefully laying it there
every other inmate knows what is
happening. High doorways, and win
dows quite as high, protected only by
doorlike shutters and without glass,
bring street noises as close as if they
were indoors. One may hear from an
upper room the conversation of those
passing in the street below. If tlx?
parties to the street colloquy are be
lated and demonstrative they may
easily rouse a neighborhood. A cart
on the stone pavement makes its pres
ence felt for blocks around.
Native noises begin at daybreak
wlien the shops open and people turn
out for work. A brood of magpies
seems loosened iu this waking hour,
for the native in his elemnt is a chat
terer. From that time there is no
quiet. Street vendors carrying flat
pans or baskets ou their heads are
early ustir, to let the people know, in
minor cadences, that they are ready
for business. Tlx? first of this tribe
carry things to eat, usually sweets.
Tbey are followed by sellers of cheap
laces or gow-gnws. Their appear-
Once brings the housewives to their
windows and barter, seldom amount
ing to more than barter, seta iu.
There is a native saying, "Vamos a
pasar el tiernpo," meaning "Let us sit
down and argue." The women employ
U and act on it endlessly. Hotel life
enables a visitor to learn tbeir opin
ions upon a variety of subjects. Next
week's weather seems to be a favorite
topic. When two women, with their
progeny, draw their rocking chairs
into a hotel corridor—tbey cannot con
fine themselves to tlie forum of their
own apartments—all other proceedings
In tlie house may as well be suspend
ed. This performance is given un
failingly from early coffee until tlx?
midday breakfast. After that meal
there may be a rest for a nap, which
refreshes the disputants for more vig
orous combat. The evening session
lasts late, and is often reinforced from
the corridors and balconies iu tlx? vi
cinity.
Street scenes at night show bow
simply a community may be pleased.
The people want to be amused, and
since tbey cannot afford to pay others
to entertain them, they furnish among
themselves the means of keeping light
hearted. Street maskers provide much
of tlie night fun. They usually go
about in pairs, iu liarlequlu costumes,
with horns in tlieir caps and highly
painted pasteboard faces. A crowd
is in tow from the moment of tbeir ap
pearance. It gathers numbers as they
jog-trot through the streets. When
they happen to enter a house on the
way, the crowd waits patiently outside
until the visit is over. The Plaza is
always the objective point. There the
town seems gathered, for other crowds
have followed other maskers to that
centre, and many have gone there con
fident of finding it worth while. On
nights when the native band plays,
especially on Sunday, maskers multi
ply, and tlie scene resembles a carni
val. On such nights also the home
militia, organized to strengthen and
eventually, perhaps, to displace Amer
ican troops, gets wholesale leave from
the barracks. The natives like a uni
form, and the men seem as well pleased
with witli it as is a child with a new
toy. This feature adds to the general
animation.
Pleasures end at tlie Plaza compara
tively early, to be resumed at ballcs
or dances in different parts of the
town High-class residents may hire a
pretentious liall for this purpose, but
the simpler folk get the greater enjoy
ment iu modest places, which a few
pesos will rent. Tlie ballroom is al
most always 011 tlie street level, for
the fun of a dance is apparently in
having as many spectators as tlie
street in front of the building will
hold. With a baud, consisting of a
clarionet, which carries tlie air; a vio
lin to fill in interludes; a bass viol to
mark time and a gourd which the per
former pouuds witli a piece of round
stick, tlie music that the public love
Is ground out. Daucing means a min
imum of motion to a maximum of
noise. Feet shuffle in unison, but part
ners may not turn oaee a miuute. It is
enough for them to keep barely going
to the sound of a combination whose
music, gypsy-like and crude, evidently
satisfies every sense. Balles often last
until well into the following day, from
twelve to sixteen hours.
Among n people upon whom care
sets so lightly it is perhaps not strange
that even death is not too serious a
matter. There are funerals, of course,
that have hearses and for tvlilch r
coffin and grave ore bought for the
body, but they are comparatively rare.
The usual way is to hire a coffin and
ixirt of a grave. Slen friends of the
afflicted family carry the coffin to the
cemetery and other men friends follow
on foot. Women never witness a bur
ial. At the grave the body is lifted
out and. without shroud or other cov
ering than the burial clothing, the
dirt Is shoveled on top of it. Then
the undertaker's men carry the coffin
away, sometimes oil the run if another
customer awaits its use.
For the coffins used the rate is 25
cents and upward, according to style.
A grave foe must l)o paid, which cov
ers occupancy for one year. If the
fee is not tlteu renewed the bones are
exhumed and tossed into a heap of
other dispossessed bones in one cor
ner of the graveyard. A family hold
ing a Joint tenancy in a grave appar
ently never concerns itself over tlie
identity of tlie ejected bones. Tlie
remnants of a Inxly for which rent
may be paid may get into the bone
lieap If the gravedigger makes a mis
take and lifts out a middle skeleton
in a grave of throe, for instance,
thinking that lie has lauded the l>ot
tom one. Mistakes are less common
than might be supposed, however, for
fatnilies who lay their dead in the
rented section seldom pay more than
the fee of $1 to cover one year's inter
ment. All bones look alike to them
after that lapse of time.
The American designation of the
native is Spiggoty, accented on the
first, syllable. Its origin is indefinite,
but it may have come from the native
ambition to speak English and to in
form all comers of that desire. The
native tongue, accustomed to soft let
ters, struggles hard with the k in
"speak," and makes it sound like g
cut off short. English is Ingles. When
"speak English" encounters a Porto
Kicon, the result may not 1K unlik?
"splggely," which some Anglo-Saxon
mind roughened into "gplggoty."
Whatever tin origin, one hears every
where of spiggoty people, splggoty
money, and all else spiggoty. Every
body uses the term, the natives having
almost accepted it !is a proper desig
nation. If into some official document
sent to Washington it should slip, the
public may know that it has come to
stay, and that a fresh coin has en
riched the language.
A Successful Slint.
A tall object suddenly held my eyes,
says Maurice Thompson, in the Atlan
tic, a great blue heron, stock-still on
one foot, bis neck partly folded. Of
course it was in full plumage; I could
see the long streamers at the back of
its head. "I should like those." I
thought, or rather felt, while swiftly
considering a plan of approach. Then,
as If by premeditated action tin' songs
ters began for the morning's melic
battle; and what a tune they marchc/l
me to! I stooiK-d and crept from cover
to cover, light of foot as any cat; but
the shot would be a long one for my
heavy arrows with their wide feath
ers, as the strip of shore marsh on
which the heron stood prevented close
approach. Fifty yards I call long
range when using heavy-headed bird
bolts. From cover of the last bush I
carefully estimated the distance to l>e
forty-live paces, and then drew up.
Beyond the bird a line of silvery light
lß'gan to twinkle on little clioppy
waves. This was hard to overcome,
for it shook iny vision and interfered
with tixing a joint of aim, which I
felt had to be above my target. Then,
too, allowance for the drifting force
of the breeze was a nice joint to set
tle. A heavy arrow with a broad vane
does not resist a side wind very well.
Not to exceed two seconds elajised,
however, before my bow added tts an
cient note to the woodland nodley,
and "whisli-sh!' whispered tlve arrow,
going with tremendous force. I say
tremendous, and hearing it hit you
would not erase the adjective. Al
though Its trajertor.v was high for so
short a flight, the arrow went like a
tlash, and, as true as it was swift,
struck solidly with a successful sound.
Parlor Magic.
A feat which any one can perform
with little or no practice is that of
placing fourteen matches upon a table
and lifting them all up upon one of the
matches. This is how it is done: Pick
out oue match—the one that has the
flattest surface—and then place six of
the other matches about one-fourth
each across the first one, each of the
six being parallel to each other and
the thickness of a match distant from
each other Next place six other
mate-lies one-fourth eoeh across the
first match, but from the otlier side,
all parallel and in the spaces left by
the arrangement of the first six
matches. Now take the fourteenth
match, lay it over the twelve matches
whore they intersect, and by carefully
lifting match No. 1 and holding match
No. 14 in place you will accomplish
without difficulty the feat.—Adelaide
Herrmaa, in the Woman's Borne Com
panion.
Where Dmsmnttcr, Are .inpeilo,
Chinese tailors are not designers;
they can copy, and if one is patient
and long-suffering, after many trials
succeed in giving a good fit. (The
usual tailor likes to give hut one trial,
and that when the garment is finished.)
He find- u j fault when told it must he
taken apart and done oyer; lits invar
iable reply, when shown where the
fault lies and asked to change is, "Can
do." Even after repeated mistakes it
does not dawn npou his mind that it
would be well to baste only lx'fore
trying on. The machine-stitching is
taken out.nnd be begins ills work over
and over again. His unvarying pa
tience nnd courtesy make you feel
ashamed to eomplain of yonr own
weariness of fitting.—Woman's Home
Companion.
The Kocket.
The first locomotive engine which
proved a practical success was pro
duced by the two Stephensons, and
was called the Rocket. In October.
1529, It received the prize offered by
the directc-s of the Liverpool anil
Manchester Railroad, and the question
as to the superiority of the locomotive
steam engine as a motive power was
tbeu settle J.
THE STRAWBERRY FETE.
Where the oyster of late
"Was the star oi the fete
I Gotten up bv the ladies in churches.
Now 'the strawberries reu
O'er the saucers are spread,
; And the spoon on the lip oftc perches*
On the side there's ire cream,
Always held in esteem
! In all seasons and all s<uis *r weather;
And it iorts lun-s been known
Cream or berries alone
j Can be eaten or mixed up together.
There the r.trawberry girl
Sets male hearts in i whirl,
j By the way she acoepts invitations;
I'romptly forward she goes
When she's asked to dispose
Of a share oi the dainty collations.
When one sauoer is pons
There's another brough. on.
For she says she is "so iond of hemes;
She may take three or four,
And perhaps a few more,
For her yearning at times slightly varies.
Will she trv some ice cream?
Then her eyes fairly neam
With delight and she's quickly consenting/
Five more times she'll indulge,
While the chappie's eyes bulge,
And his folly he's sadly repenting.
Then (he young man so rash
Quickly hands out the c \sh.
And at once for the exit he searches
That's the way money goes,
But, ns everyone knows,
It i 9 all for the good of the churches
■—Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph.
JINGLES AND JESTS.
Willie Roadster—"Dere's one t'ing I
like about lisliiu'—it's party near de
| same t'ing as doiu' notliin."—Puck,
j Bohbs—"Cldtlies do not make toe
I man." Dobbs—"No, but many a law
; yer lias been made by a good suit."
j Little Cupid shot a dart
! That pierced my hard and stony her.it;
Sad, indeed! but, what is worse,
That same dart it pierced my purse!
| Hoax—"The world Is sure to hear
: from that young man." Joan—'"A
genius, eh?" Joax —"No; he plays the
trombone."
| Blobbs—"I understand SUinuum is
practicing medicine. I suppose he's
j doing well." Slobbs—"No; I believe
; lie's doing tlte sick."
Merchant—"Do you speak German?"
I Needy Applicant—"X never have, but,
| gracious, I'll tackle it it' you give ma
I a job."—lndianapolis Journal,
i Sirs. Muggins—"Does your liushand
I appeal to you as 11 vocalist?" Mrs.
Bugging—'"No; it's quite tlic other
J way. I appeal to him 10 stop."
j Dolly—"Did that famous author send
: you his autograph, I'olly?" Polly—
l "No; but he kept mine, the mean, im
pudent thing!"— Chicago Record.
Love makes the world 50 'round,
I do not care;
It's cash, I've always found.
That makes tilings -. ..re.
—Philadelphia Record.
"Knave!" sakl the autocrat, "how
j earnest thou to be a fool?" "Sire, re
: spouded the jester, "I began life
I among the wise men." —Philadelphia
North American.
I Mr. Newkld—"Uncle Thomas has
| lost his entire fortune in Wall street!"
I Mrs Newkld—"Oh, the ungrateful
I wretch! Right after we had named
[ the baby for him."—Puck.
I "I sold newspapers when I was a
I boy," declared the statesman, proud
j ly. "And now you are selling the
| public," remarked an unsympathetic
! auditor.—Philadelphia American,
j Nell—"I lielieve that people should
always marry their opposites." Belle—
"I thought you seemed very much In
terested in tlie young man that lives
across the street from you."
Sillieus—"Vou say nothing is super
fluous. Of what use is the vermi
form appendix?" Cynlcus—"lt keeps
1 lots of doctors from starving to
ueatli."— Philadelphia Record.
For the round moon lie proudly cried
A year or two from uirth;
! Then in his haughty manhood's pride
He clamored icr the ea h.
—Chicago Record.
"Dhl you see Dum'.ey's latest pho
to?" "You mean the one In which he
looks cross-eyed?" "Yes; how on earth
I did it happen?" Well, the photogra
pher was cross-eyed, you see, and just
as he made the exposure he turned to
Dumpley and said; 'Look this way,
please.'"
— ' '<
Tired Wires.
Metals get tired as well as things
j that have life. Busy all week carrying
from city to city messages of sadness
i and happiness, business and even non
sense, and dealings in figures extend
| ing Into millions and billions, stock
and market reports, being especially
! trying, the wire can be said to wait for
Sunday to come. Unusually heavy is
1 Saturday's work, and when the day
! is at an end the wires may bo classed
j as worn out. The rest afforded by the
j Sabbath day, when business of tele
! graphing is almost at a standstill ex
j cept for tlte newspaper work, does the
[ wires good, for they are far better
! conductors on Monday than on Satur
; day. It is sometimes found necessary
to give wires a rest, especially after
I extended use. It has been found
j that when left for three weeks with
j out use ten per cent. Is added to the
conductivity of a wire.—Philadelphia
j Record.
Pa;>OT Matte 150 Vent-* ,Vgo.
Prom investigation made by Dr. A.
Campbell, paper making appears to be
I a very old Industry lu India. In the
i year IST3 the attention of the English
I Government was called to the remark
i able qmility of tlie paper made in the
1 State of Nepal. The fibre of this paper
I was so tough that a sheet doubled
on Itself could scarcely be torn with
the fingers. The paper was so pliable
! and durable that It did not wear at the
j folds during twenty ,>ears. Whereas
J English paper, especially when eight
i or ten slieets were folded up in one
packet, could not stand keeping in
! the state uninjured more than four
or five years. A copy of a Sanskrit
| work, though 130 years old, was in
| perfect preservation, having all that,
time withstood the ravages of insects
and the wear and tear of use.