THE FOUNT OF YOUTH.
The fount of youth has oft been sought
Since days of long ago,
And oft iu fancy men have seen
Its living waters flow.
Through desert swamp and wilderness
The search lias been pursued,
In hope that by tbe magic fount
Youth's dreams might be renewed.
But men have turned from that vain
quest,
Their hopes forever crushed,
For though they searched through all the
world
No magic fountain gushed.
And men resigned themselves to age
That robbed them of their grace,
That sapped their strength and thickly
spread
Time's wrinkles on the face,
In later years men's thoughts have turned
To plans for longer life,
And in elixirs they have sought
New strength for daily strife.
And oft 'tis heralded abroad
That scientist or sage
Has finally evolved a plan
To stay the blight of age.
But men grow old, and women, too,
As in the days of yore,
For no elixirs they have tried
Their youthful charms restore.
And as they can't deceive themselves
Some seek to hide the truth.
And dye or bleach their hair and paint
On cheeks the hues of youth.
Tile fount of youth is in each heart,
And those who keep it pure
Will longer hold the charms of youth
And length of life secure.
And when at last that fountain falls,
And old age on them steals,
They'll bear it well because no man
Is older than he feels.
—Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph.
... lil II
I Merely an Episode.
" in
IT would be hard to find ft more
Ideally happy couple than the
Charterlses. After ten years' mar
ried life they are still In love with
each other. Constance is wont to boast
that Diett never has, or has had, a
secret which she has not shared. And
In the main this is true. But there is
one little episode—merely an episode—
in his life, to which Dick never refers;
it is ids 0110 secret. And it nearly con
cerns Constance, too. The wind was
blowing wildly against the smoking
room windows, bringing a snow storm
In its train.
"Hang it ail," remarked Dick Cliar
teris, going to the window and gazing
out disconsolately over a world grow
ing rapidly white, "no hunting to-day.
And Con won't be back till to-night."
He lit a pipe, drew up a comfortable
chair in front of the fire, and prepared
to make the best of the inevitable.
Tile morning paper lay on a table at
his elbow. He took it up, glanced
carelessly through it, and soon put it
down again. Judging from the ex
pression of his face, his own thoughts
tvero supplying sufficient entertain
ment.
"Beg pardon, sir." The butler stood
before him with a somewhat perplexed
countenance.
Captain Cliarteris roused himself.
"Well, Hilton?"
"There is a gentleman wishing to see
Sir Geoffrey, sir. I've told him Sir
Geoffrey is out, and he wants to wait.
But I don't know exactly—tile dining
room and the drawing-room Is all up
set, and her ladyship's in the morning
room. Would 3-011 mind, sir ?"
"Show him in here, of course." Dick
Cliarteris was, perhaps, growing a
trifle tired of his own company.
"Possibly some begging chap, though,
coming at this hour," lie thought,
Stretching His long legs and glancing
lazily at the clock. It was barely
twelve.
The first glance at the stranger, how
ever, dispelled this idea. Dick looked
at him critically. A tall, dark man,
011 the wrong side of forty, with a
clever, clean-shaven face. His eyes
burned with a curiously eager light.
"The man's ill," was Dick's first
thought.
He went forward with easy cour
tesy.
"Sorry Sir Geoffrey is out just now."
he remarked, pushing a chair toward
the other. "He had to go to a magis
trates' meeting. However, lie can't ho
long now, and perhaps I ran do duty
as host in his absence. I can't sn.v I'm
exactly a son of the house, still, by
tills time next week I hope to lie Sir
Geoffrey's son-in-law."
The stranger had been listening al
most mechanically to Charteris's easy
flow of conversation, hut at the last
words lie became suddenly alert and
eager.
"Indeed," lie said, with scarcely re
pressed anxiety. "May I ask your
name?"
"Cliarteris. Won't 3-011 sit down,
Mr. ?"
But though lie tool: the chair, lie
pairl no attention to the question in
Dick's tone. The latter began to fee!
at a disadvantage carrying 011 a con
versntlou with a stranger, name un
known.
"I should ho sorry to miss seeing Sir
Geoffrey." remarked ills visitor, his
rlttll. even tones contrasting so oddly
with the lire in Ids p.vcs. "I r.lll r.ll
old friend of his, hut have not seen
liim for some time."
Cliarteris glanced at liim again. He
concluded the man had just come from
abroad, which would account for the
-somewhat odd cut of his clotiies and
the general look of a certain absence
of up-to-dateness about liim.
"Xo doubt Sir Geoffrey will lie in
directly," lie remarked, passing tlie
cigarettes. "You find the house in
rather a confusion to-day. There's to
be a little dance to-morrow, in honor
of tlie approaching wedding."
TIIO other slowly lit a cigarette. "I
understand 3011 are going to marry
on" of Sir Geoffrey's daughters." he
observed, slowly.
•'Yes, Constance." He blew a ring
of smoke into the air and watched it
lazily. "Do you know Sir Geoffrey's
daughtersV" lie asked, curiously.
The dark eyes watching him seemed
to glow and burn.
4 T used to," he answered briefly.
There was a pause. Dick began to
wish his father-in-law elect would
hasten his return.
"When is your wedding to be?" was
the ne. t question.
The stranger spoke as one who lias
a right to ask, and Dick found himself
answering meekly.
"Next week, the twentieth. I "wanted
it sooner, but Constance said she
[ tvouldn't be married until after the
sixteenth. The fact Is, she was en
gaged before "
He stopped abruptly, vexed with bira
&?lf. What 011 earth could his affairs,
and Constance's, matter to this man?
"I quite understand," replied the other,
in his level tones. "I have heard of
Miss Merton's former engagement."
"Oh, I see." Dick looked relieved.
He hated explanations, and reflected
that this was probably some old family
friend. lie lit another cigarette and
resumed in a more confidential tone.
"You see, she had been engaged to
this chap for nearly a year; Forsyth
his name was, and then he went abroad
and forgot her, the brute."
"Hoy do you know he forgot her?"
The question was one, apparently, of
idle curiosity.
Dick flung his cigarette into the fire
with energy. "Oh, well, when a man
never writes, or answers letters, for
two years, you naturally conclude he
has forgotten. And Con has waited—
until just now. Why it's only two
months ago that she promised to marry
me, though I have known her all my
life, and cared for lier, too. You see,
she thought she was still hound by her
promise. And nothing would induce
her to be married until after tbe six
teenth, because that was his birthday,
and lie had once said they should be
married on that day. But that wat
yesterday."
There was a silence, broken only
by the snow beating against tbe win
dows.
"There may have been reasons why
he—that man Forsytli—did not write.
In the depths of the bush there are
many difficulties. Letters are lost,
people one has trusted prove unfaith
ful."
There was an undercurrent of pas
sion in his tone not lost upon his
hearer. He stood up, straight-limbed
and tall, on the hearth-rug.
"I hope you don't think I'm not act
ing on the square by this chap For
syth," he said warmly. "But it does
seem to me that poor little Con has
wasted two years over a good-for
nothing chap. And I moan to make
it up to her now."
The other man smiled oddly. "I be
lieve you, Captain Cliarteris," lie said,
slowly, "but if you won't deem it an
impertinence I should like to ask you
one question."
"By all means."
"Docs she—Constance, Miss Morton
—care any more? I mean, of course,
she has forgotten the other man?"
Dick smiled happily. "Quite, T am
sure," lie said frankly. "I flatl r my
• If that I occupy his place in her
thoughts now, lucky chap that I am."
Then, to redeem the last words from
any suspicion of egotism, he added:
"She was so young, you know; only
seventeen when she was first engaged
to Forsyth, and lie was old enough to
be her father."
The other man made 110 answer. He
looked the young mail up and down,
his eyes resting curiously 011 Dick
Charteris's fair, boyish face. Some
thing between a sigh and a groan came
from his lips and startled Dick.
"Is anything the matter?" he asked,
quickly.
"Xo—thanks;" the other recovered
himself with an effort. "But I don't
think, after all, I can wait to see Sir
Geoffrey. I—l will write."
"I am leaving England," he said
with an obvious effort, "and it Is un
likely we shall ever meet again. Will
you shake hands?" and Dick, obeying
some strange impulse, grasped his
hand and shook it warmly.
lie accompanied his strange visitor
to the liall door and opened it. The
snow was falling very fast now. For
one moment the man stood bareheaded
on the steps. "Good-bye, good-bye,"
lie murmured, hut he did not look at
Dick. He seemed rather to be talking
to some one unseen. At the foot of
the steps he paused, a solitary black
figure in a white world.
"John Forsyth is dead, dead." The
words came to Cliarteris with an in
tensity that was very solemn.
Feeling an odd sensation of uneasi
ness. Dick went hack to the warm and
cheerful smoking room. IT.? piled up
the logs in the grnto and glanced half
expectantly round the room. Somo
llilng white lay under the chair where
his late visitor had been sitting. He
picked it up. Only a half-tone en
velope. addressed to "John Forsyth,
I'srj." lie rang the hell violently.
"The gentleman would not wait to see
Sir Geoffrey, after all." he said care
lessly to the servant. "Did—did he
leave his name with yon. Hilton?"
"No, sir."
As the door closed on the man Dick
Ohnrteris knelt down and thrust the
envelope Into the heart of the blazing
lire.—Madame.
Appointments Aro Debt*.
Appointments, once made, become
debts. If you have made an appoint
ment with any one you owe him punc
tuality. You have 110 right to throw
away his time, if you do your own.—
New York News.
A 920,000 I'Hir of Opera Glumrn.
Queen Alexandra owns a pair of
opera glasses, made hi Vienna, valued
at $20,000. Tliey ore of platinum, set
•with diamonds, sapphires and rubles.
A ton of soot results from the burn
ing of 100 tons of coal.
I The Young Man and
Problems of the Future
By Bird S. Coler.
-,gwi 1 110 problems of the future are to be solved by the young men of
to-day, and those questions are of such great and vital importance
—I""* R that only men imbued with the idea of a just and Almighty God
1 can successfully cope with them.
WZWWSiffi The young man may have to tight for position, and perhaps for
®" ®" existence, hut in tlie end he is bound to win if he is persistent
and never lets go. I never won anything in my life that I did not tight for.
The day of the passive man has gone by. That of the active, energetic man has
come to stay.
Be slow to decide, but when you have once pointed your course to that
which you believe to be right let nothing turn you aside. When you say "yes"
to that which your judgment tells you to be best, do not be content merely with
the expression of approval, but strive to make your opinion prevail. When
you say "no" to that which your conscience and mind tenth you to be wrong,
never rest until you are successful, or your last resource is exhausted in
defeating it.
You cannot always be right, but you can always try to be. Never be deterred
from doing the right thing fijpm the fear of making enemies. A man's reputa
tion depends just as much upon the baseness of his enemies as the good
qualities of his friends. Never promise anything you cannot fulfil, and in
speaking, remember that few words, coming from a sincere heart, are of more
moment to the world than a sophistical oration or ponderous editorial, no
matter liow great or able one may be. Mean what you say, and say what you
mean; in other words, leave the stamp of a man made in God's image upon
everything with which you have to do,
J?-? j£7
The Value of & Crust of Bread
By William Mathews.
IT is gratifying to know that some of the world's greatest men have
been the sworn foes of waste, and have looked sharply after their
O own expenditures. Dante places the spendthrift in the same circle
oC3i©eo economize, it is better to look after petty savings than to descend
to petty gettiugs. Washington scrutinized the smallest outgoings of his house
hold, determined to avoid every Bit of landless waste. Carlyle, whose early
struggles with "those twin gaolers of the human soul, low birth and an iron
fortune," early taught him the value of economy, was a determined saver.
Among the incidents exemplifying this trait, a friend of his relates that, one
day, as the great Scotchman approached a street crossing, he suddenly stopped,
and, stooping down, picked something out of the mud, at the risk of being run
over by one of the many carriages in the street. Brushing off the mud with his
hands, lie placed the substance on a clean spot on the curbstone. "That," said
he, in a tone which his friend says was as sweet and in words as beautiful as
lie ever heard, "is only a crust of bread. Yet I was taught by my mother never
to waste—and, above all else, bread, more precious than gold, the substance
that is the same to the body that theSnind is to the soul. I am sure that the
little sparrows, or a hungry dog, will derive nourishment from that hit of
bread."—Success.
Paying Too Much For Success
By Orison Sweet Marden.
SF a vigorous young business man, anxious to push his business
and make money, were offered $1,000,000 to shorten his life ten
years, would lie accept the money on such terms? For what
stocks and bonds would he exchange the pence and tranquility
of his mind for the rest of his life? What price would tempt
a man to trade his steady nerves for shaky ones scarcely en
abling him to sign his name, or substitute, for buoyant spirits
aud a vivacious manner, jaded ennui and dull apathy? What
would he ask for Ids bright, youthful countenance, if it had
lo lie immediately replaced by it wrinkled, care-worn visage, stamped with
anxiety? How much would he take for his athletic figure, his quick, elastic
step, if offered in exchange a bent form aud a shuffling gait? How much real
estate would ho consider a fair compensation for the companionship of ids
wile, Hie joy and comfort of his home, and the sweet love of little children?
Suppose that a bright, hopeful college graduate were asked to sell, offhand,
the result of his four years' work, to giVe up his grasp of human nature, and
10 close forever all the doors of intellectual progress that Ida studies have
opened to him—how much money would close the bargain?
Ask some man what he would take in exchange for the friendships that
have made his life rich with hallowed experiences and perpetual inspiration,
and which promise him pleasure and profit in future years.
Ask some respected citizen, influential for good in his community, whose
advice is sought, who is held up as an example to growing youth, to sell his
good name, his influence, his community's respect—what sum would lie mime?
—Success.
Southern Farmers Prosperous
By E. P. Powell.
swssa, ,jjnca STUDY of the census will make it very clear that the Southern
I V States are developing rapidly in agricultural lines. From 1890 to
I 1000 Tennessee increased bet farms from 174,000 to 224,000. The
1 value of her farm products just about doubled. The farms of
H 1 Louisiana, in the same time, increased from 09,000 to 115,000.
P $ -A Tlie value of her farm property wont up from $70,000,000 in IHBO.
K /a j to $110,000,000 in 1890, and $198,000,000 in 1900. South Carolina
|ssiEsP''d!s23S gives us $119,000,000 of farm property in 1890, and $153,000,000
in 1900. The number of farms reported In 1900 was over five
times as great ns in 1880, and thirty-five per cent, greater than in 1800. Texas
climbs from 19,000 farms iu 1830, to 49,000 in 18110; and 352,000 in 1900. Every
census year, except the one following the Civil War, shows a great growth in
agriculture. Witli all the rest, these States report a decided gain in the way
of intensive farming, and a variety of crops. Perhaps the most astonishing
progress in the way of agriculture has been made by Oklahoma. Many of the
counties show a three-fold increase over the farm values of ten years ago.
There is a great decrease iu tenant farming in proportion to freeholding. Of the
total number of farms five per cent, arc operated by colored farmers. Of the
white farmers scvehty-eight per cent, own all or a part of the land that they
operate; and about the same pereenlngp holds good for the colored farmers
The average gross income per acre for farms under three acres is $118.55;
for ihose of three to nine acres, 818.7,8; for farms of ten to nineteen acres,
$10.13; for farms of twenty to forty-nine acres, $5.47: lot farms of fifty to
100 acres, $4.02; for farms of 100 to 175 ncrcs, 82.91. Here is a lesson for you.
Small farming pays enormously over large farming—and (his after allowing
for the fact that small farms are generally located nearer markets. The same
fact holds good iu other Stales.
&
Character the Noblest Gift
By Margaret Stowe.
tJcJUU'CJtJ* 1 industry and civilization or a nation all depend
"I )tm individual character.
y/'.'J , r j- ; 'v > "3TJ This character, which lies with each one of uh to develop, is
ut? I tTCT law and order, that is, moral law and order. It is human nature
533 X ,?u i 1 s best form. Napoleon said: "The moral is to the physical
UuOTJuo as ten t0 one *'
uotitlua <)ur ~innnel' s mir hearing, our presence, tell the story of our
lives, though we do not speak; and the influence of every act is
felt in the utmost parts of the globe.
Ilnve you ever known an unselfish person, of charitable and generous im
pulses, sociable, loving, kind, thoughtful of others, who was not universally
liked and respected?
A man may have comparatively little culture, not much ability, and little
wealth, yet. lie his character sterling he will always command an influence;
a strong character creates confidence in men In high station as well as in
humble life.
Benjamin Franklin attributed his success In public life lo Ids known in
tegrity of character.
says: "Hence il was that 1 had so much weight with my follow citl
zeiis. I was a had speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my
pf words, hardly correct in language, aud yet 1 gcneialjy carry my
A man who has mind wi'.liout heart, cleverness without goodness, no doubt
I power, hut It may he power only for mischief.
TruthCuluess. i:.t \grity ami-goodness form the essentials of manly character,
11 nJ i"- man v. )•• > mi.e •>. s tin *<• qualities, together wltli strength of purpose,
ci'Vtv* with him. a power that is irresistible.
''
Wiiuerinc l'lanti.
Plants wintered in the cellar should
be kept quite dry—not dust dry. how
ever, but a very little moisture. A dark
cellar is better than a light oue, and a
cool one more favorable than one that
Is warm. Of course the temperature
must never touch the freezing point.
I Strawberry Itunnera.
The pistillate varieties of strawber
ries produce more runners and a great
er amount of fruit than the varieties
with perfect flowers. This fact should
he kept In view In selecting the kinds
' that are to he used. Some varieties
produce large berries, and but few of
them fall to fill out the rows from
scarcity of runners.
An OrclmrU u Necessity.
An orchard is a necessity on the
farm. It is well known that a farm
containing an orchard will sell at a fair
' price, when farms with ho orchards
I are sacrificed. The buyer always looks
| for the greatest number of advantages,
and if apples, peaches, pears, plums
and the small fruits can be found, in
| stead of only an apple orchard, the
value of the farm will be increased
I much more than the original cost of
j the orchard. If tlio farm is not for
• sale the orchard will be a source of
profit to the farmer.
Tlio Feaoli llorer.
The peach borer must be dug out of
the tree with a knife. Its presence may
always be knqwn liy the chips which it
leaves while boring into the trees. The
tree will not he injured if the cuttiug is
j done lengthwise—that is, up and down
the hark—but do not cut across the
hark unless It canuot he avoided. If
the knife blade will not reach the borer
use a piece of wire. The majority of
trees are destroyed by borers, and
those who have had no experience with
the pests, or given attention to the
work of destroying them, attribute the
loss of the trees to the "vellows," or
some other disease.
A flood Orrliaid Crop.
Une of the best crops to grow In a
young orchard is the hush bean. It
takes no nitrogen from the soil, but
rather adds to It, and a good crop of
beans will pay for manuring and the
cultivation of the orchard. The bean
vines make a good mulch for the trees,
and they are a crop that can he grown
many years on the same soil. The in
sects aud fungous diseases of the beans
and the orchard differ so much that
we do not know of any one that will
affect the other. Of course as the trees
begin to cover and shade the ground
the space devoted to the beans must
be nnrrowed up until they arc discard
ed entirely.
A Wilding ot Vivid Huo.
To low, moist meadows in Pennsyl
vania, or the pine swamps In New Jer
sey, we must in the autumn search for
that richest of nature's wildings, the
Cardinal Flower, whose tall recemcs of
Intense Vermillion blossoms, as if suf
fused with the blood of some wild
_wood creature, peep out shyly from be
neath overarching boughs of alder and
blackberry bushes. The depth and
brilliancy of the hue of this flower has
suggested its name, from the color of
the famous hat worn by seventy eccle
siastical princes of the Roman Church.
Because of this vivid huo few who
see it In its haunts enn withstand tlir
| CARSINAI/
j (LOHt.UA CARD/HALM)
temptation to pluck every bunch with
in sight; so it is becoming rarer every
year In certain localities.
The Cardinal Flower is a Lobelia,
and, like all its family, has an irregu
lar, raonopetalous corolla, split down
upon the upper side. The pistil pro
trudes through this split and is rubbed
against by the pollen-laden insect com
ing from another flower.
Near by. In sandy soil, perhaps, Is its
cousin, the blue cardinal or great blue
Lobelia, two or three feet high. It is a
sturdier, coarser plant, not so neatly
and compactly built, but is very sliowy,
with corolla one inch long.
Both these plants bear seeds In great
abundance, which ripen before frost,
and which, when gathered and sowed
In tlie garden, will give very satisfac
tory plants and flowers In the following
year, as the cardinals improve tuidef
tultlvatiou.—Philadelphia Record. .
Ishe Funny
_fide vf
Life.
The Fair Sex.
Wo. bring them bonbons every night, _
Ami when we win their hearts to boot,
The darling f?irls turn round and say.
"To make liim love you, feed the brute!"
—The .Smart Set.
Tlis Physician's Estimate.
Cholly—"Doctor, I want something
for my head."
Dr. Gruffly—"My dear fellow. I
wouldn't take it for a gift."—Judge.
Ho Served.
Lady—"You say you servoil through
the Spanish war. Was it in- Cuba?"
Tramp—"No, mum, iu Joliet Prison.
Me sentence happened to bo going on
at dat time."—Chicago News.
Tim ltei.l Hoy.
"What does Freddy like to play?"
asked the caller. •
"Freddy," replied papa, "likes to play
whatever games his mother and I do- •.
clde are too rough for him."—Detroit §
Free Press.
No Itetter Off.
"Poor Robinson! He couldn't make
a living, and married a woman with
money."
"But isn't he all right now?"
"Hardly. She is so close with it that
he has to work harder than ever."—
Life.
The Paco That Dnzzl©*.
Mrs. Newrich—"Mercy!, Samuel, is
It necessary that we go thirty miles an
hour?"
Mr. Newrich—"But. Henrietta, if wo
go slower people will say our auto
mobile cost only a thousand or so!"
Puck.
Gloomy Forebodings.
First Horse—"And you really think
we're going to become extinct?" V
Second Horse—"l thinlc so. Fin'™
afraid the day will come when the
schoolboy's first composition will not
begin, "The horse is a very useful
animal.' "—Puck.
A Practical Test.
"Do you mean to say you would not
trust anybody who Is not polite?"
"Yes," answered Miss Cayenne; "a
person to be trusted is one who does
uot lose bis head in an emergency. Aud
politeness is merely presence of mind."
—Washington Star.
Oratory,
' 11
Park Orator—" 'Aving said all lam
going to say on this point, I will return
to what I was just coining to when I
was interrupted, and repeat what I
was prevented from saying."—Punch.
Foolish Mun.
Fostal Clerk—"You'll have to jiut an
other stamp on that letter!"
Miss Pert—"Why?"
Postal Clerk "Because it's over
weight."
Miss Pert—"But, gracious! Another
stamp would make it still heavier."—
Philadelphia Press.
An Insinuation.
Doris—"Yes, she was furious about
the way in which that paper repo; iV"
her marriage." J
Helen—"Did it allude to her ago?" '
Doris "lndirectly. It stated I hat
'Miss Olde aud Mr. Yale were married,
the latter being a well-known collector
of antiques."—Chicago News.
Strange, If True.
Jones—"This is a remarkable sort of
burglary."
Smith—"What is it?"
Jones—"A tliief ransacks a bureau
drawer anil steals a purse with two
dollars in it and fails to overlook a roll
containing two hundred dollars that
was lying right on the dresser!"—
Puck.
Ill* Many Thought*.
"Don't you sometimes have
thoughts?" asked the Soulful Young
Thing, "that are absolutely unutter
able?"
"I do, miss," answered the old poeij
"And sometimes, when I am
for a rliymc that won't come, I iiav- 7
thoughts that are absolutely unprint
able."—Chicago Tribune.
The Way of a Woman.
"I bate to be contradicted," she
said.
"Then I won't contradict you," lie
returned.
"You don't love me," she asserted.
"1 don't," he admitted.
"You are a hateful thing," she cried.
"I am," he replied.
"I believe you're trying to tease
air," she said.
"I am," he conceded.
"And that you do love inc."
"I do."
For a moment she was silent.
"Well," she said, at last, "I do lime,
a man who is weak enough to be
by a woman. He Ought to have a mind
of bis own—and strength."
He sighed. What else could lie do?—
Chicago Post.
Mosquitoes in India, when tliey can
not got blood, enjoy the pollen or tho
sap of plants and preserved fruits anil
other sweets about tile bouses.