THE OLD D'AGUErtREOTYPE.
Up In the attic I found them locked in the cedar
chest,
Where the flowered powns lie folded, which once
were brave as the best,
And, like tho queer old jackets and the waistcoats
gay with stripes,
They tell of a wornout fashion, these old daguer
reotypes.
Quaint little folding cases, fastened with tiny
hook, \
Seemingly made to tempt one to lift up the latch
and look;
Linings of purple and velvet, odd little frames of
gold.
Circling the faded faces brought from the days of
old.
Grandpa and grandma, taken ever so long ago,
Grandma's bonnet a marvel, grandpa's collar a
show;
Mother, a tiny toddler, with rings on her baby
hands
Painted—lest none should notice—in glittering
gilded bands.
Aunts and uncles and cousins, a starchy and stiff
Lovers and brides, then blooming, but now so
wrinkled and gray,
Out through the misty glasses they garc at me,
sitting here
Opening the quaint old cases with a smile that is
half a tear.
I will smile r.o more, little pictures, for heartless
it waa in truth,
To drag to the cruel daylight these ghosts of a
vanished youth.
Go back to your cedar chamber, your gownß and
your lavender,
And dream mid their bygpne graces of the won
derful -days that were.
—Saturday Evening Post.
0 THE WOKAN WHO
!! COULD NOT DIE.!!
' A Strange and Grcwsoin© Tale ' '
( | I : t : By Count Leo Tolstoi. ( |
• S't'O '••••■•.>•! 1
Ilor lioocl and tho apron that conceal
ed tho dark skirt she wore, all but for
a narrow strip In the hack, and the
scarf fastened crosswise over licr
breast were dnzzlingly white. On her
left arm she carried a basket of home
made sweetmeats, in her hand a stout
cane.
She shuffled along In the attitude of
a half open penknife, hut approaching
the bench where I sat, raised herself a
little so that I could see her face. A
veritable network of wrinkles. Hers,
1 said to myself, must have been a
long, laborious life, n life full of enres
and disappointments if the lines by
Which misfortune had marked her
countenance tell its story.
"Sit down, little mother," I snld,
making room for her.
"Thanks, my lord. If I may loan
against the fence a bit, I will be all
right again. When an old thing like
I sits down and gets up, there is al
ways a shooting pain in one's hack."
"Then, how old may you be, little
mother?"
"Eighty and more years—don't know
for certain. But it's all In the books
at the village parsounge where I was
•born."
"Then you are not a Moscow wom
an?"
"Oh, dear, no; I am Ekatrhia, from
■AVadowice. One of my daughters mar
ried a Moscow lad, Peter, who works
111 the nail factory. AVhen I felt death
approaching, I went to live with them,
thinking my last hours would pass
pleasanter in the society of those I
love. One's relatives, If they are not
too hard hearted, will at least place a
handful of straw under the tired head
when it's all over so the soul may de
part easier from what has been its sin
ful abode."
"And are the children good to you?"
"How could they he otherwise? An
old woman, unable to escape misfor
tune, must be content anywhere. But
things are not exactly going as I
hoped."
"What's wrong, then?"
"Death disappointed me. I cnmc
here to die, you know, yet I am living,
living, living all the time. Look at ine,
my lord. Would you suspect that there
Is more than a spark left In me? God's
wrath! I seem to have more lives than
n eat. Ilad It all planned out to n nice
ty; wasn't going to give them any trou
ble Whatever. After the police had
been duly notified of my arrival that
was to he the end of it, I reckoned. My
son-in-law went to the factory as usu
al, my daughter busied herself about
the house, while I sat In a corner by
the fireside to work over the down
feathers I had collected the past year.
My sole ambition was to euro enough
for a lied, the inheritance I meant to
leave behind. And all the time I mur
mured prayers one after the other and
then began anew. Death, which I
thought so near, should And me well
employed.
"I waited a month, another, n third—
who didn't come was death. I run
cold when I think of it." And Ekatrl
11a trembled as she loaned on her cane.
"One Sunday in the fourth mouth
the janitor came up. 'Peter,' he said,
'you must get a permit of residence for
the little mother. That's the law.'
"My son became frightened. 'Does it
cost much?' he asked when Ire found
his tongue again.
I " 'About 2 rubles a quarter.'
1 "Then my son got down his tobacco
pouch and gave its contents to the Jan
itor, who forthwith withdrew just as
If there were no police in the world.
When he was gone, I said: 'Sonny,
don't you trouble about a permit of res
idence for me. I came here to die, not
to live. True, I nm still breathing, hut
ready to collapse any minute.'
"And my daughter said: 'That's
right. Why spend any money 011 her?
If sin- doesn't die today, It's tomorrow
or next day. Shi' says so herself, and
dying people (lon't lie.'
"You see, my lord," continued the
old woman, "we all agreed on this dy
ing business and felt quite satisfied
that It would come off In good season.
But now that death has disappointed
us don't think, my lord, that I was
shamming at any time. Even then, at
the very beginning of my martyrdom,
If I may call It so without disrespect
to the good saints—even then I was
subject nt Intervals to such agonized
feelings of oppression and helpless
ness that every bone In me contracted,
and it became black before my eyes
Just as if they were filled with soot.
Again I had such fearful pains in my
spine that I couldn't have raised my
face to heaven for a silver ruble. But,
my lord, we—l beg your pardon a thou
sand times; I mean we common people
—are such sinners and know nothing
about dying, absolutely nothing. A
Second quarter passed by, and I was
still sitting on the stove bench, a piti
able monument of miscalculation.
"I couldn't understand it. Is it pos
sible, I said to myself, that the Lord
Jesus has forgotten to call me when
my days are up?
"One evening. Just as Peter returned
from work, the Janitor walked In rude
ly. 'What in thunder Is the matter
with the old woman?' he bellowed.
'You say she came here to die; but,
confound her, she Is living 011 and 011,
cheating the state out of Its dues. She
ought to have bought a permit of resi
dence nine months ago. Now you will
have to pay a fine in addition. Attend
to this without delay, as the police hold
me responsible.'
"Peter, poor fellow, looked all per
plexed, never said a word and scratch
ed his head. But my daughter, scarlet
with rage, snapped at me viciously.
'Old fool,' she hissed, 'you came here
to die. didn't you? A fine excuse, that,
for eating us out of house and home!
Now we will be sold up for taxes. May
you suffer in purgatory a hundred
years for every kopeck we have to
pay!'
"But Peter—ah. lie Is such nn angel
of a follow!—can't hurt a fly. 'Franka,'
lie said, 'stop your abuse. God may
punish you for it. Think how you may
faro some day when you are old.' Then
we talked It over, and Peter gave the
janitor 53 kopecks to hold in hand,
•for,' he argued, 'death might come at
any minute now.'
"Fifty-three kopecks for a miserable
bag of bones like me! It nearly broke
my heart, and Franka went around the
house like a she bear bereft of her
young. She was so mad she smashed
the soup pot in setting it down—anoth
er kopeck gone! Ami all for me. 'I
wouldn't mind it so much,' said my
daughter after a day or two, 'lf we had
nil got drunk for the money.' "
Ekntrlna breathed hard once or twice
and continued musingly: "I can't say
that they begrudge me the soup I eat.
May God punish me If I ever had such
a thought! But at tin' same time I do
not shorten their rations by unseemlng
appetite. A few spoonfuls left in the
tureen is enough for me. A tine thing
It would be, indeed, if a dried up whisp
of straw, such as 1 am. allowed herself
to be fattened by young married folks!
Every age, as I take it, has its peculiar
rights and privileges. Old people, good
for nothings,can better afford to starve
than youth, with its thousand duties to
fulfill. No, my lord, they never stinted
me in the way of food. But the loss
of ready money they suffered. Fifty
three kopecks! Oh, it was cruel!"
The old woman paused to dry her
tears. "And what happened then?" I
asked.
"A second whiter season lnul begun.
The janitor became even more trouble
some. Peter had to give him tolmcco,
beer, money even. I was exceedingly
unhappy. Everything was going against
me; all my calculations went for
naught. Ah. I learned the truth of the
proverb 'Man proposes, God disposes!'
While the feather bed was still unfin
ished there was perhaps some excuse
for my living, but when that was done
I felt like cursing my fate.
"Hut the winter was extraordinarily
cold, and I took heart again, for my
rheumatism became almost unbearable
and my cough increased to such in
tensity tlint I told Franks: 'Be cheer
ful. daughter; there is no deception
about this! The new pains will cer
tainly kill me.'
" 'Pshaw,' replied she contemptuous
ly, 'talk is cheap. Don't make a moun
tain out of that molehill of a cough, if
you please. It's no real cough at all;
Just a bit of irritation in the throat,'
she added with scorn. 'lt won't hurt
you more than a kick will a dog.' "
I wanted to sa.v something, but Eka
trlna, fearing criticism of her unnatural
daughter, quickly continued: "It was
this way, your lordship: Franks had to
keep that infernal janitor in liquor all
the time to prevent his tattliug. He
was forerer in her kitchen, smoking
Peter's tobacco and sending her for
wodka. Then I resolved upon another
plan. I began fasting, even two days be
fore the feast of Christ's holy trans
figuration. Peter objected. 'Do not
attempt to correct God,' he said. 'What
must come will come. Death catches
a good many flies in winter. He will
catch you, too, little mother. Ton don't
need to Invite him by starving your
self.' But 1 fasted Just the same."
"And did it do any good?"
• "Yes, yes! After 20 days I was so
weak that I couldn't scrub the lloor
any more. I could hardly swnllow n
drop of water. Zounds, I thought, this
Is dc#tli for a surety. And my heart
leaped with joy.
"Frunkn heated a big pot of water
and'gave it to me with a handful of
soft soap; also a rough piece of
linen, and I washed front head to
foot to save them the trouble after
ward, donned my fresh laundered
clothes and sat down 011 the threshold,
praying and—waiting. The weather
was most beautiful. On the blue heav
ens rows of \vhlte lambs chased each
other. 1 had never seen such finely
formed clonals in all my life. The sun
laughed, bliss were singing and spring
was In the air. I'rfmt the tower, near
by, church bells sounded. And I cross
ed myself and said aloud: 'Give me
thy etfcnal peace. O Lord, and may
thy light show me the road to heaven.
Amen.' And with that 1 closed my
eyes, feeling like one rid of all earthly
misery. I was going to my father. 1
was convinced of it.
"Suddenly—loud steps, creaking toots
beside me—l opened my eyes. It was
the Janitor who ennie to fetch me to the
master of police 011 nccount of the resi
dence permit. I prayed that the earth
might open and swallow me, but my
wish was wicked and was not granted.
Peter wasn't at home. Frnnka was
washing; I was afraid to disturb her.
If Peter had been there he would have
found means to pacify the Janitor for
the moment, when all would be well,
tor I felt sure that I would be dead
before nightfall.
"While I was still weighing these
with a big tub of soapy water. 'What
ire you standing around there for?' she
scolded. 'Get yourself to the police
master's, for his excellency won't be
bamboozled like us by stories of cough
and fasting. Your whole residence
here was a fraud. It's too late now to
wall about it. Go—and to Jail if neces
sary.'
"At first I was dumfounded, but
presently my senses returned. 'You
nre right, daughter,' I replied, took my
shawl and went out. I walked slowly
along the houses, groping my way and
leaping against a wall from time to
time. My eyes were ltolilug as If beset
by a thousand ants, and my body felt
cold now, as If they were rolling me
naked In the snow, and hot then. Was
I so near purgatory? At last I landed
at the police master's and entered the
first room, where some great lords sat
at tallies. One was most proud and
magnificent, another was gowned all in
black anil the third looked rather mean.
I bowed down to the ground and began
to tell my story. 'Not here, no.t here,'
they said. I bowed again and went to
the next room. The same story, 'Not
here.' And so I hustled from room to
room, front table to table. My strength
was leaving me, when finally a thin,
long gentleman took pity on old Bka
trlua and took me Into the right cham
ber where the master sat in state.
"There I waited upon the threshold
while my legs shook like aspen leaves.
At last the great one deigned to look
up. 'What is it?' he asked. Bravely I
unbosomed myself and told him every
thing from beginning to end. He lis
tened, then again asked, 'What Is it?'
I repeated my story of liow I went to
the children to .die; how, being alto
gether sure of death, I omitted to buy
a permit of residence; how the dear
Lord Jesus had seemingly forgotten
me, and how. because I continued to
keep 011 living, I was summoned before
him.
"The great lord rang a silver bell.
Immediately another came in who
looked even more beautiful, for big,
shiny buttons were on ills coat. I had
to tell my story to him also. When 1
finished, the master said. 'See here,
Ekatrina, thou owest the little father,
the czar, quite a heap of money, but
we will take pity on thee anil let It go
at o' 2 rubles.'
"I wrung my hands. Five rubles and
a half! Tlie very amount to a kopeck
that I hnd given my children to pay
for tlie funeral! Feeling swoony, I
leaned against tlie wall. It got dark
before my eyes, anil a gale was blow
ing through my lirnln. And those fine
gentlemen jumped from their seats as
if by one accord. One grabbed the
water bottle; tlie other brought a chair.
Seeing tlie police master's compassion,
1 knelt down and embraced his knees.
" 'Most gracious, most powerful lord
police master, have the goodness to
look ut me! I mil Just a bit of useless
dust; no more. As to tlie amount of
soul within me, it's not worth bother
ing about. Relieve mo, I inn taking no
one's place in tills world: sleep on a
truss of straxy bellied tlie stove and
pick up no more food tlinii n sparrow!
Ab, and I use very little air, for 1 am
too weak to breathe much! As regards
sunlight, 1 live in the cellar, where a
beam seldom penetrates.
" 'I know 1 ought to lie dead long ago,
but what can I do against this persist
ent, damnable, costly habit of living?
Pray, take pity on me; it's surely the
heaven's fault. The good saint who
keeps tlie book of life must have over
looked poor Ekatrina. Don't punish
me, lest the heavenly recorder may re
sent It. I assure your lordship I have
been expecting death und preparing for
it ever so long. I have prayed for it
daily, hourly. And while I owe the
little father, the czar—may the Lord
bless lilm—l paid my permit of resi
dence to God. Thirteen children 1 have
home and have buried seven. Oh, I
worked for the czar too. 1 gave him
two recruits, strapping fellows! One
of my boys was drowned; one daughter
•an away with tlie circus; the youngest
burned to death in a hayloft like a
sparrow under a thatched roof. Indeed,
my lord, Goil and I are quits as regards
the permit of residence, quits by virtue
of the children I bore in pains nud
suckled with hunger sturlng nie In tlie
face.
" 'He took It out of me In cares, In
hard labor, In cuffs and beatings from
a drunken husband, in the bloody tears
that I cried on those burial grounds of
yellow sand, seven of them; count
them, my lord!'"
Old Ekatrina was overcome. Great
tears rolled down her flcshlcss checks.
Her lips trembled and lier head in
clined from one side to tlie other.
"Indeed," I said, "thou linst paid for
tliy permit of residence In this world."
After she had come to I added, "Anil
what then?"
"Oh, they made me pay," replied tlie
old woman without a shadow of resent
ment In her voice, "They took it n li
my entire funeral money Is gone.. But
I ilou't lilanic those flue gentlemen.
They did their duty. Tlie law is on tlie
books and must be obeyed."
"And now thou hast taken to ped
dling?"
"Yes. I sold the feather bed and
bought a new permit of residence for
the ensuing quarter. For the next lam
trying to earn a few kopecks In ad
vance. With that constitution of mine
I may live another year. I am begin
ning to think I can't tile."—Philadel
phia Times,
A DIPLOMATIC LIBRARIAN.
He I'lpiu.d llic Politician Without
111 * 1 IIA 111 M Friend A L'onltlon.
When Mr. Putnam was the head of
the Public library in Boston, u ward
leader of that city called on him to rec
ommend a henchman for a place in the
library.
There was no reason why the libra
rian should not have refused at once
and peremptorily to appoint him, but
he chose to follow another course.
After a few minutes' talk with tho
politician Mr. Putnam asked him
whether lie had ever been through all
the departments of the Institution.
"I never have, but I'd like to see it,"
replied the politician.
"It will give me much pleasure to go
with you," said Mr. Putnam.
Mr. Putnam took him behind the
counters and through the building
from top to bottom, explaining tho
character anil the magnitude of the
work In detail. He further pointed out,
without scorning to do so, the varied
duties of the employees and the attain
ments they must possess to do the
work. When the tour was ended, Mr.
Putnam said:
"I'm pleased to have had a chance
to show the library to you, anil if j-our
friend will Ull out an application blank
and send it, and if he passes the neces
sary examination, I think there will
be no difficulty In placing his name on
tlie waiting list."
The politician, however, had seen
enough of library work to convince
him that ills constituent could find no
place on the staff, and tlie blank was
never filled out. But to tlie day lie left
Boston Mr. Putnam had no warmer ad
mirer in that city than tills same ward
leader.—Collier's Weekly.
HOW TO LIKE WAGNER.
Scenic AccpMMoricN Are XeccNwnry to
u Perfect Uenllßntion.
Tlie strict Wagnerite refuses to hear
the music of Ids favorite composer in
the concert room. It was never intend
ed, lie will tell you, to be performed by
Itself, but to lie played as an accompa
niment to tlie action, for Hie purpose
of heightening tlie effect of the Intense
ly dramatic situations coupled with
gorgeous stage pictures that are in
separable from Wagner's famous art
work.
The most Important part of a Wag
ner opera, according to the composer
himself, is not tlie music, but the
drama, which, indeed, tlie beginner
should closely follow with the aid of
the book of words, since tlie music is
usually sung in German words.
The intending Wagnerite should also
begin with tlie master's most popular
works, "Tannhauser" and "Lohengrin."
He will then at once recognize the fa
miliar music lie lias already heard so
often at concerts, and, struck by its
beauties, lie will attend many perform
ances of these two. Next year lie will
want to hear these again, supplement
ed by "Tristan und Isolde," that won
derful music drama so charged with
Intense emotion and passion. Having
heard "Tristan" and liked It, lie there
upon becomes a full fledged Wagnerite
in tlie true sense, and the season after
lie attends performances of tlie "Ring
dor Nilielungen," or lie may make a
supreme effort to get to Baireuth.
From Baireuth lie returns tlie nrdeut
disciple of a musician whose uaine he
terrifies ills friends by pronouncing in
tlie German fashion, not Wagner, but
"Vaachkner."—London Mail.
Mexican Letter Writers.
Perhaps there is no more character
istic sight ill Mexico than the so called
"evangellstas" who ply their trade 111
tlie Plazuela de Beleni and the Plazue
la of Kanto Domingo. Those who oper
ate in tlie former spot make a specialty
of writing letters to tlie inmates of the
prison for their illiterate relatives on
the outside, but tlie "evangelistas" who
may be seen any day In tlie Plazuela of
Santo Domingo do a general business.
They write love letters, blackmailing
letters and all sorts of letters for thoso
who do not know how to write at a
rate of fl, fl, !) or more cents, according
to tlie length of tlie missive. They
also undertake without extra charge to
write tlie address on the envelope and
to attach tlie required stamp, but for
tlie latter they make an extra charge
of u cent. It Is hardly necessary to
state that only very ignorant people,
who aro totally unacquainted even
with the simple formalities of mailing
a letter In addition to not knowing
how to write, have recourse to the
evangellstas for stamps. Mexican
Herald.
Had Seen Them All Before,
Once while James Wllitcoml) Riley
was visiting a southern town where ho
was hooked to give a reading u com
mittee called to take him in a carriage
over tlie city, in acknowledging the
compliment he said:
"I'll go with you, gentlemen, provid
ed you promise that you will not show
me tlie new courthouse, tlie new town
hall, tlie new bridge, tlie new gas well,
the new school building and tlie new
Jail, for I've seen them all a hundred
times 111 as many towns, anil they In
variably wear me out before tlie time
arrives for tlie curtain to rise on the
evening eiitcrtuinment',"—Atlanta Con
stitution,
A Finished Speech,
Miss A.—When I'm asked to sing, I
don't say, "No, I can't sing," nor wall
to be coaxed, but sit right down at tlie
piano and—
Miss B.—Leave the company to find
it out for themselves. Philadelphia
Bulletin.
The Goat Bliln't Know.
"Oh, my dear (daughter," to a little
girl of (I, "you should not be frighten
ed and rim from the gont. Don't you
know you are a Christian Scientist?"
"But, mamma," excitedly, "the billy
goat doesn't kuow it."—Trained Moth
er hood.
YOUTHS' DEPARTMENT,
fnstnnrrM 'of Bird Strategy—Ailvlee
For Little Brothers—llCNCU
-Ins a Kitten.
The conduct of various birds during
the breeding season is so different from
what it is at other times that, to my
mind, it is often very hard to say for
certain where distress ends and strate
gy begins or to which of the two tho
behavior of the bird should be attrib
uted. lllrds disturbed off their eggs or
their newly hatched young often flut
ter about 11s though they were half par
alyzed. I cannot believe that this is
always for the purpose of drawing the
unwelcome intruder away from the
precious nest. Ilirds that have been
sitting for a long time are Invariably
Inactive when disturbed, and this
should be taken into account In consid
ering the question of strategy.
On the other hand, one finds at times
both male and female behaving in a
way that suggests something like a
regular scheme on the part of the par
ent birds for rescuing their young from
real or imaginary danger. I came up
on a covey of very young partridges,
accompanied by their parents, on the
dusty highroad one July evening when
going witli my rod to the riverside.
The cock bird. I had Just time to ob
serve, hurried the young through a
gateway into a field, while the hen in
stantly started running along the road
a dozen yards or so ahead of me. Once
or twice she stopped, apparently to al
low me to come up fairly close to her,
and then ran on again. This contin
ued till we were about 100 yards from
the spot where the covey ran into the
field, when the hen bird also ran
through a gap in tho hedge. 1 got up
Just in time to see her rise from the
ground and fly straight back to the
spot where her family were 110 doubt
lurking. If that was not strategy, it
was curiously like it.
On the Test one day I disturbed a
family party of wild ducks in a little
reed sheltered creek. The female bird,
within reach of my teu foot fly rod,
flapped helplessly about the water as
though grievously wounded. The male
flew across the stream, where lie was
Joined by the young, and not until all
the latter were" safe across the water
did the mother rise on strong wing to
follow tho rest of the family. In both
those cases the conduct of the parent
birds surely implied strategy of a high
order.—George A. B. Dewar.
Advice For Utile Brothers.
If brothers care to be popular with
their sisters, there is one thing they
should be particularly careful not to
do. When they have committed any
special mischief, such as breaking the
best plate glass window with a ball or
smashing the pony carriage by furious
driving, they should not leave their sis
ters to "face the music." Girls may be
used to rows, but they are not any
more fond of them than boys are, and
they have quite euough to bear as It Is.
Another tiling that boys should try to
avoid Is making fun of their sisters
and ridiculing their appearance.
It would also be quite as well not to
poke her best doll's eyes In if the boy
cau refrain from doing so, because
some cirls are rather spiteful, and it
might result 111 a pin being stuck into
his new football.
There are several other little things
It would be as well to avoid. Don't,
for instance, put dead mice in her bed,
because, although it may cause an im
mense amount of amusement, it Is poor
sort of fun to frighten a girl who can't
even thrash you in return. Try very
hard not to feel a contempt for your
sisters when they are clean, but re
member that most girls prefer being
clean and that you are even clean your
self sometimes —on Sunday before
church, for instance.
Resell!njr n Kitten.
A well known Boston architect has a
tender spot in his heart and once spent
several hours devising away to rescue
a kitten that had fallen into one of the
ventilating flues in the walla of an
apartment in the postofflee building.
The kitten had been Imprisoned sever
al days without food or water, and the
flue was -4(1 feet in depth.
Notice of the matter was brought to
the architect late of a Saturday after
noon. The cries of the kitten could lie
faintly heard, and the would be res
cuer ut first thought he would cut
through the marble facing of the apart
ment in which tlio flue was located.
Fortunately some one suggested that
perhaps (lie kitten might seize the end
of a line if it were weighted.
The experiment was made, and,
strange to say, the nearly starved crea
ture almost instantly took fast hold
with its claws. The rope was very
carefully and slowly drawn up and the
kitten with It.
The Ilnyloft.
Through all the pleasant mondowside
The grass prcw shoulder hinh,
Till the shining scythes went tor and wide
And cut it down to dry.
These green and Sweetly smelling crops
They led In wagons home.
And *h®y piled them here in mountain tops
mountaineers to roam.
Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty Nail,
Mount Eagle and Mount High; /
The miee that in these mountains dwell '
No happier are than II f
Oh, what a joy to clamber there I 7 f
Oh. what a place for play.
With the sweet, the din, the tlusty sir.
The happy bill* id hay I
—Robert Louis Stevenson.
An Rlocfrlc Dance,
Take a pane of glass—a broken one
will do—and secure It by placing the
ends between the leaves of two large
books, letting the glass be two Inches
from the table. Cut from light weight
writing paper or. better still, from tis
sue paper dolls, dogs and other figures.
Place them on the table beneath the
glass. Rub tlie glass vigorously with a
silk handkerchief, and the figures will
all Linda iJi jiutioa
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