irOLirTIMC FAVORITES ft
II THE DAY IS DONE.I
BT HENRY WADBWORTH LONOFBLLOW.
The day is done, and the darkness Read from some humbler poet,
from the wings of night, Whose songs gushed from his heart'
As a feather is wafted downward As showers from the clouds of summer
From an eagle in his flight. Or tears from the eyelids start;
I see the lights of the village Who, through long days of labor
Gleam through the rain and the mist, And nights devoid of ease,
'And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me Still heard in his soul the music
That my soul cannot resist; Of wonderful melodies.
A feeling of sadness and longing Such songs have power to quiet
That is not akin to pain, The restless pulse of* care.
And resembles sorrow only And come like the benediction
As the mist resembles the rain. That follows after prayer.
Come, read to me some poem, Then read from the treasured volume
Some simple and heartfelt lay, The poem of thv choice,
That shall soothe this restless feeling. And lend to the rhyme of the poet
And banish the thoughts of day. The beauty of thy voice.
Not from the grand old masters, And the night shall be filled with music,
Not from the bards sublime, And the cares that infest the day
Whose distant footsteps echo Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
Through the corridors of time. And as silently steal away.
For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life's endless toil and endeavor; J+Zr
And to-night I long for rest.
HOW POLLY SAVED
THE EXPRESS.
T 7-" ANE CREEK wns a railroad
crossing on the S. and C. C.
| x Rnilroad, about two miles
Q from the division terminal
at Mercer. It was in the midst of a
scrubby pine forest, with a sandy road
crooking out from the trees on one
side and into the trees on the other.
There were only two or three houses,
a little general store with a porch like
the visor of a military cap, and a
school house, all arranged in a scraggy
row along the railroad track.
A dozen trains whirled through
Kane Creek every day with only a
shriek of greeting and a whipping
wake of fine sand. Only two of them
paid the slightest attention to the girl
in a blue gingham dress who stood in
the little observation window. One of
them was the way freight which
stopped at Kane's every time it came
along while the conductor handed the
girl a bundle of yellow papers nnd
received another like it in return. The
other was the night express, westward
bound from St. Paul, and running at
forty miles an hour. It was a splendid
train—ten cars, with the finest engine
on the road, big Number Six Hundred
Six. As its glaring eye flashed around
the bend in the direction of Mercer the
girl in the gingham dress often thought
of the great train as a powerful and
ferocious beast snorting and roaring
westward on a raee with the sun. It
was a beast, but it was well trained,
and she knew the hand that trained
It. When the train wns a mile away
there were always two blasts on the
whistle. Every one else in Kane's
thought they meant simply, "Wake
up, look out!"—for that is what all
locomotives sny at every crossing—
but the girl in the gingham dress heard
"Ilello, Polly," and darted out on the
platform and waved her handkerchief.
AB the great train thundered nearer a
hand was thrust from the engineer's
window, and, although it was usually
dark, she could see the flutter of some
thing white, nnd oftentimes as the en
gine darted past the station she heard
the blurred sound of a voice nnd
caught the glimpse of a grimy face and
n blue jean jacket. And then she went
back to her place In the little station
with a sigh of deep contentment.
For it was a moment of great joy to
Polly Marshall when her father's en
gine went through. Polly was the
station agent at Kane Creek—any oue
could have told that a woman pre
sided In the little depot, for was there
not always a bouquet in the window
nnd dainty pictures surrounding the
grimy time tables on the walls, and a
kitten curling upon the doorstep? At
seventeen Polly had gone in as assist
ant to learn telegraphy, and when
Clark, the agent, was called to Mercer
the company had left the independent
girl in charge. She nnd her father
lived In one of the wooden houses n
stone's throw back from the depot, and
since Polly's mother died they had
been everything to each other.
Engineer Marshall was a big, silent
man, and his companions, sotne of
them, thought him gruff and ill-tem
pered, but to Polly ho was always ten
der as a kitten. Often when she was
a little girl he took her down with
him to Mercer on his engine, and
while she sat on his black leather seat
at the cab window, clinging on with
both hands, he explained to her how
the big black creature under them was
started and stopped, what this brass
crank was for, and how. when the en
gine squeaked here and squealed there,
a little oil was needed in tills cup or in
that crevice. And Polly had learned
to know an engine as well as she knew
the neat little pantry In the house at
home. Indeed, she had more than once
managed the levers and the throttle,
although it was very heavy work for
a girl to do.
It was one night late in the fall that
Polly Marshall had need of all her
knowledge of engines. She wns sitting
at her desk in the little observation
window, a shaded light throwing Its
rays down on her telegraph instru
ments nnd tile sounder clicking sleep
ily. Suddenly she was startled by the
sudden call of her number. Instantly
her fingers sought the keys, and she
gave the answer that signified that she
was all attention.
"Look out for " clicked the
Bounder, and then It suddenly ceased,
and try as eke would Polly could get
no further communication with the
station next to the eastward. What
could the trouble be? What was she
to look out for? Polly sprung to her
feet, remembering that the night ex
press, of which her father was engi
neer, was the next train dne. Could
anything be the matter? She ran out
on the dark platform to see that her
lights were all In place and that the
switches were properly set, so that the
express would slip past the station
without an accident. Then she went
back and called up Mercer.
"Can you get Plncknoy?" she asked.
Pinckney was the station which had
sent her the warning dispatch so mys
teriously interrupted. She knew the
operator at Pinckney well—every night
he told her of the approach of her
father's train, and whether or not it
left his station on time.
"Pinckney quiet; can't get answer,"
was the report of the wiresi "What's
the trouble?"
Polly answered as well as she
could.
Her father's train was now due. It
should be whistling cheerily at the
lower bend. Polly stopped out on the
platform and peered up the track. Yes,
there was the familiar headlight—she
would have known it among a hun
dred. Then came the whistle, "nello,
Polly," nnd Polly rail back Into her
office much relieved nnd sat down to
warn Mercer. At that instant she
heard a peculiar cracking sound that
sent her heart quivering deep in her
bosom. Then there was the shrill
scream of the locomotive whistle, sud
denly interrupted, as if the hand that
had drawn the lever had been struck
from its place. Polly knew it wns a
cry of distress. It seemed to say,
"Help," in a long, tremulous wail. In
stantly Polly darted outside and flew
up the Track. Already the express
should have thundered past the sta
tion, but she could see its headlight a
hundred yards or more away. Xhe
train had stopped.
With a hundred terrifying questions
flashing through her mind, Polly ran
on through the gloom. When she was
almost within range of the big head
light she saw a half n dozen armed men
swarming around the engine, she heard
fierce oaths, and then the engine start
ed up again. She saw in an instant
that it had been cut free from the
train. In the cab window, where
her father usually stood, there was
a big, unfamiliar figure managing the
lever and throttle. Terrified, Polly
sprung to one side into a clump of
bushes. As the locomotive passed
iter on its way up the track she saw
that the man in the cab wore a black
mask on his face, nnd then she knew
what had happened. She understood
why Pinckney had tried to warn her
and failed. Robbers hnd held up the
train and were preparing to rob the
express car.
For a moment Polly was torn with
doubt and terror. Had they shot her
father? She knew that he never would
submit to have his train captured
without a struggle. Should she go
to hint? Then she remembered her
station and the telegraph, and with
out a moment's delay she was flying
down the track toward the depot. She
would send for help to Mercer. But
squarely in front of the little depot
the locomotive stopped and the black
tnasked man sprung from the cab
window and darted across the plat
form. Hardly thinking what she was
doing, Polly ran up on the other side,
the fireman's side of the engine, and.
raising herself up, peered into the
cab. She had half expected to see
her father's dead body lying on the
floor, for she had heard much about
the terrible doings of train robbers.
Through the call window she could
see the robber sitting at lier own
little desk in the depot sending a
message. It flashed over her all at
once that lie was wiring Mercer that
the express was delayed, thus pre
venting any alarm. The robber had
pushed up his mask and she saw him
plainly.
What should slip do? She dared
not enter the office, and she. a mere
girl, could be of no service where the
robbers wore making their attack on
the train. If only she had the little
revolver that lay In the drawer of
her desk—she set her teeth as slio
thought what Bhe would do with it.
At tliat moment three shots rang
out, clear and distinct, from the de
tached train. The man at the tele
graph instrument sprung to his feet
and ran to u side window in the wait
ing room and looked up the track.
Now was her chance. Hardly think
ing what she did, Polly sprang to the
engineer's side of the cab, threw back
the reverse lever and opened the
throttle steadily. The big steel wheels
began to turn, very slowly at first.
Farther and farther the throttle open
ed and faster and faster turned the
wheels, aud yet they did not go half
fast enough to suit Polly, who was
now glancing fearfully over her
shoulder.
Suddenly the depot door was thrown
open and she saw the robber darting
up the track. He had his pistol in
his hnnd. He was pointing It at
her and shouting for her to stop. But
the engine was now going at good
speed, and, run as he would, the rob
ber could not catch it. But he stopped
and fired, the bullet ripping through
the cab over above Polly's head.
The engine was now tearing down
the track at full speed. Polly knew
that it must bo fired or It would not
go far, and so, leaving the throttle
open, she sprang to the coal pit, flung
open tile fire hole, and with the heavy
shovel in her small white hands threw
in load after load of coal. When she
returned to her place she could see
the first signal light of Mercer already
blinking into view. She pulled down
on the whistle cord aud the engine
shrieked its distress.
Five minutes inter Polly strained at
the heavy reverse lever, turned hard
on the air brake and brought the
great iron horse to a sudden standstill.
How she ever mannged to stammer the
story she never knew, but in a few
minutes the engine was headed back
with half a dozen armed men aboard
of her. Behind them came another
load of men on a switch engine and
two men were racing up the street of
Mercer calling the alarm.
They heard tiring before they reach
ed Knue Creek, but it ceased soon
afterward. The robbers had gone.
They had taken with them much plun
der from the passengers, but they had
not been able to get into the express
safe, although they were at work
drilling it open when relief came.
From the time that the engine
stopped Polly was missing. When the
rescued and excited passengers and
express messengers began to crowd
around and inquire the Mercer men
remembered her. A party of them
went out to iind the girl who had
brought help to the beleaguered train.
In a little clump of bushes they
heard a man moaning, and an in
stant later they saw Polly kneeling in
the sand, with her fnthcr's head in
her lap, crying bitterly. And they
gathered up the brave engineer and his
daughter and carried them down to
the train, cheering all the way.
Engineer Marshall was not badly
hurt, and ho was able to bo In Mercer
when the general manager of the road
thanked Polly officially and offered
a new nnd better position in Mercer.
And of course all the pusseugers and
express messengers heard about Polly's
brave deed and said a great many
pleasant things about her. but Polly,
being a sensible girl, only blushed and
said that she had to do it, and that
any other girl would have done the
snme under like circumstances—which
no one believed, of course.
I.ater, when the robbers were cap
tured, Polly was able to identify one
of them positively—the one who had
run the engine—and through him the
entire party was convicted and sen
tenced to the penetentiary.—Waverley
Magazine.
Longevity of Monarcliß.
If the risks of the trade of kingship
are considerable, as the late King
Humbert of Italy used to remark, the
incrense of the average longevity of
monarchs during the past century is
also considerable, says the London Ex
press. Apropos of the death of the
Belgian Queen In her sixty-sixth year,
it is worth recalling that in the year
1818 Europe possessed llfty-one sover
eigns, of whom oxdy eleven had passed
their sixtieth year. Of these, one
nlone had reached the age of seventy.
In 1900, nltliough meanwhile, the num
ber of crowned heads had been re
duced to forty, the list of sexagena
rians was nearly trebled. There were
at tlxnt date twenty-nine sovereigns
who had attained sixty nnd over. Of
these, seven had over-stepped seventy,
five of them wore eighty, nnd one, the
present Pope Leo XIII., was a nona
genarian.
Quid Pro Quo.
A good story is told of the quick
witted Irish lawyer, Baron O'Grady,
who on one occasion was trying a case
in a country court, outside of the walls
of which a fair was in progress. Amid
tlie miscellaneous herds of animals
were a considerable number of asses,
nnd one of these commenced to bray
loudly. At once the chief baron stopped
the advocate, who at that moment hap
pened to lie pleading. "Wait a mo
ment, Mr. Bushe, I cannot hear two at
once." The court roared and the advo
cate flushed. Presently, when the
Judge came to sum up another ass
struck in and the bray resounded
through the court. Up Jumped Mr.
Bushe nt once, with his hnnd to enr.
"Would your lordship speak a little
more loudly? There is such an echo in
the court that I cannot hear distinct
ly."—Argonaut.
Donations to tho United State*.
Some good people give money to Un
cle Sam on general principles, nnd all
such presents are recorded in the
Treasury Department as "Donations
to the United States." New York
Press.
The armies and navies of Europe
absorb twelve (lavs' earnings yearly
at the entire population.
ffRACTICALj
]GAKDEN'IN^I
fc " " '
Pollination During Wet Weather.
Orchard experiments made by the
lnte Professor E. S. Goff indicate that
anthers containing pollen grains fail
to burst during moist, damp weather;
consequently during a period of show
ers, or so long as the trees are wet
with rain or dew, the pollen is not dis
turbed aud consequently is not wasted.
Even in damp, cloudy weather not
much pollen will be destroyed. During
dry, warm weather the pollen is dis
charged freely.
Storing Apples and Pears.
In some German experiments, It
was shown that apples wrapped in tis
sue paper or newspapers, then placed
In boxes lined with peat dust, kept
well from November 1 to May 15 fol
lowing. Eleven out of the fourteen
varieties stored in this way averaged
over eighty per cent, of perfect fruit.
Pears did not keep as well. In con
nection with this experiment, apples
and pears were simply layered in peat
dust. These kept much better than
those wrapped in paper, remaining in
good condition well into July.
No Secrets in Fruit Crowing.
It is strange how an intelligent man
can be led astray on certain topics.
The following letter which wns sent by
a New England farmer to a prominent
fruit grower illustrates this: "I visited
a fine pencil orchard in another part
of my town and the trees were loaded
with luscious fruit. This mun claimed
there is ft great secret about peaches
that only a few know. He told me
that a professor told him about it,
they being special friends and also
schoolmates. He was very careful not
to tell me his secret and he would not
tell who is, but said lie
got SIOO a night for giving lectures,
but did not give away this peach se
cret except to a very few friends. I
would like very much to learn what it
is, not for myself (for my location is
not wlint I would desire, and I have
sunk nil the money I wish to in peach
culture) but for the benefit of others.
Can you tell me anything about It?"
While it is utterly absurd, it shows
how nn honest, straightforward man,
such as the writer, of it, can be led
astray. It is also a good hit on somo
of the professors who assume to know
so much. If the professor really had
the knowledge claimed he would be too
busy counting the money made in
peach growing to have any time for
professional work or lecturing for the
small sum of SIOO a night. As a mat
ter of fact, there are no secrets, so
called, in peach growing, or in the
production of any other farm crops.
Success lies in having a suitable loca
tion and soil adapted to the peach,
and then in giving intelligent care to
the trees and in a business-like hand
ling of the crop. All failures in fruit
culture have been caused by the lack
of one or more of these things.—New
England Homestead.
An Improved Implement.
There is probably no other portion of
the labor of caring for plants which
has as much to do with improving
their condition as that of irrigation,
the supply of liquid which the plants
receive affecting their growth very
materially. If the surface of the earth
surrouuding the shrub has been baked
by the heat of the sun It is necessary
for the water to soak the soil before
the roots will derive much benefit
from the moisture, and it is especially
in a case of this kind that the portable
irrigator hero pictured will bo found
of service, owing to the direct treat
ment of the roots which It makes pos
sible. At first glance this implement
11-AD It AND UIIUQArOR FOK CULTIVAT
ISO PLANTS.
might ho mistaken for nn ordinary
spade, and, indeed, it may be used as
one when not in service as an irri
gator. The tines are hollow, with
passages leading into the slmnk and
connecting with the hose through
which the irrigating or fertilizing
liquid is supplied. At each tine point
is an enlarged cap, with sharpened
end to penetrate the earth easily, the
openings ill the soil being slightly
larger than the body of the tine, in
order that the earth may not clog the
perforations through which the liquid
escapes. Not satisfied with allowing
tiie water to flow through the tines of
its own accord, the inventor has pro
vided a pump in connection witli the
handle, which first draws the liquid
from tile reservoir and then forces it
Into the earth in proximity to the roots
el' tiie shrub the gardener Is treating.
John I-'. Chase is the inventor.—Phila
delphia liccord.
Athletics injure Studies.
By Professor Ira N. Hollls.
ST does not stand to reason that n student In Intercollegiate nth
letics can do as much rvork as one who devotes all his
time to study. The athletic season of football, for example,
last six weeks in the fall, and so fnr as classroom work Is
concerned, the time Is practically thrown away. The members
of the team attend lectures regularly; they are obliged to;
but their minds are on signals and plays for the next gaifMi* "
or practice. As a consequence one-ttfth of the year is lost, and |
the players have to do as much work in the remaining four
tlfths as others do in the tlve-fifths. With average students it will not be done.
The physical training which the football men have gone though cannot under
favorable circumstances increase their efficiency enough to make good the dif
ference. Then, as a rule, their participation in athletics has made them natural
leaders In the social life of the college, and so they lose still more time. The
only point that may be regarded as established by the records is that few
students admitted to the teams are subsequently thrown off for poor scholar
ship. This proves that most athletes can usually do enough work to remain
satisfactory in their studies. Of late years a good player has lost caste if he
permits himself to be disqualified through any fault of his own.—The Atlantic.
It is Easy to Be a "Nobody."
By O. S. Mar den.
ST is the easiest thing in the world to be a "nobody." All thio
ls necessary is to do nothing, or to be like the boy who, when
questioned by his father as to why he had resigned his posi
tion as clerk In a store, replied: "The work was too hard; I i
am looking for something eaßy." ,M.
Look for a "soft snap." Don't get up in the morning uutll
you feel like it. Don't go to work until you are obliged to.
Don't put yourself out to meet engagements. Never mind if
you miss a train, or If you are half an hour late at your work.
If you are at school, don't trouble about preparing your lessons. "Crib"
whenever you can, cheat as often as possible, and get the best of your teacher
whenever you see a chance, and your progress in the desired direction will lie
assured.
If you are in college, never mind about a scholarship; the main thing is to
slide through. You can employ a tutor at the close of each term and "cram"
for the examination. Have "a good time," and never bother about results; they
will take care of themselves.
Do not try to do things as well as you can; any way will do. If you
arc sawing a board, do not exert yourself to saw It straight. If you start to
make a sled or a bookcase, never mind about completing It; or, if you do, put
it together anyhow. Half done, botched work is Just the thing for "no
bodies."
*** 9 9 ¥
Education by the Way.
By Hamilton WrightJMable.
OENRY WARD BEECIIER was once asked how he had ac
quired the knowledge of the processes of all kinds which en
abled him to draw so freely on the whole range of devices,
methods, and machines used in manufacturing of every vari
ety. He replied that, whenever he found himself in the neigh
borhood of a factory and had a little time to spare, he made
It a practice to go through the establishment, ask questions,
and try to understand everything he saw. In this way, with
out any special exertion, simply by using his eyes, his mind,
und his time, he had come to know a great deal about many
kinds of manufacturing, nnd this knowledge supplied him with a great fund of
metaphors nnd illustrations, often of a very striking character. In like man
ner, whenever he was thrown with anyone of a different occupation, he made
it a point to induce bis companion to talk nbout his work, his habits, his skill.
The great preacher went out of Ills way to secure a box seat on a stagecoach,
in order that he might talk with the driver, watch bis ways, learn his language
nnd get his point of view. If he was to make a Journey on a steamboat, ho
asked permission to go into the pilot house, nnd drew the pilot into talk about
piloting boats, and life on the river or lake. In this way he came to have a very
wide knowledge of men, of their different points of view, their various skills,
and the things for which they cared most. lie took the attitude of a
nnd was able to pour out such a llood of thought because he eontinur.ajf
added to his own store of knowledge.—Success.
*¥¥¥¥¥
Mechanics and the Soil.
By Dr. George G. Groff, Lewlsburg, Penn.
■ OME years ago, when erecting my home, attention was called to
the different financial condition of the mechanics who lived in
the town nnd those living in the country. The town mechanic,
W | if he works by the day, is ordinarily, as here observed, always
I 1 poor. If he becomes a master workman and a contractor he
B B may accumulate some property, but not if he continues to work
■ B for others.
I J But should he place his family In the country, the case at
V once becomes different. A home Is secured. Tile children are
educated nnd take higher positions in life than the parents, nnd
Br altogether the condition of the family is Improved. Near small
towns, front ten to twenty ncres of land, with buildings, may be secured for
the same or less money than would purchase a very modest home in the town,
with a lot large enough only for a house and a very small garden. In the
country a cow furnishes milk and bntter; poultry give eggs nnd meat; a garden,
vegetables; one or more pigs, the family meat nnd lard. The orchard gives frif\_
for all the year. On the days when he lias no work at his trade the man - .■
work on the place. As the children grow older they attend the garden, iho *
cow and the poultry.
These homes can bo secured so near towns that the children may attend tlie
town schools If this Is desirable. That the plan hero suggested is feasible is
proven by the numerous illustrations where It Is a living success to-day and it
can be a success in all cases where the persons concerned believe In and love
nD Independent, wholesome life. It is far better for children to grow up iu
the country, where they may become acquainted with plants and animals,
both wild and domesticated, than in the town, whore commonly all knowledge
of nature is at a discount.
The writer has in mind several carpenters who, following the plan here
suggested, have given up their trades and become successful farmers. The
same is true of stone masons, plasterers and palntera. All have been seen
to leave the narrow life of the town for the broader one of the country.—New
York Tribune.
The Test of Good Citizenship
By Henry Cabot Lodge.
O man can hope to be a useful citizen in the broadest sense,
\,// w In the United States, unless he takes a continuous and Intel
llgent interest iu politics, and a full share not only in the dec
"T" )£♦ tion but also In the primnry operations which determine the ■L.
\ choice of candidates. For this everyone has time enough, and
\l iji 'f he says that he has not, it is because he is indifferent when
-1- 1 <?> ought to be intensely and constantly Interested. If he fcl-
lows public affairs from day to day. and, thus iuformcd, acts
with his friends and those who think as he does at the caucus
* and the polls, he will make his influence fully felt and will
meet completely the test of good citizenship. It is not essential to take office.
For not doing so, the excuse of lack of time und the demands of more immedi
ate private interest may be valid. But It would be well if every man could
have, for a short period, at least, some experience in the actual work
of government in his city. State, or Nation, even If he lias no idea of following
a political career. Such an experience docs more to broaden a man's knowl
edge of the difficulties of public administration than anything else. It helps
him to understand how he can practically attain that which he thinks Is best
for the State, and, most important of all, it enables him to act with other men
and to Judge Justly those who are doing the work of public life.
The man of business who devotes Ills surplus wealth to the promotion of
education or of art, or to the nlleviation of suffering, Is doing public service.
So, too, among business men and lawyers and Journalists, among tin
men engaged in the most energetic aud active pursuits, we find those who've
are always ready to serve on committees to raise money for charitable or '
public purposes, to advance important measures of legislation, nnd to re
form the evils which are especially rife in great municipalities. To do tills
they give their money, as well as their time and strength, which arc of
more value than money, to objects wholly outside the labors by which they
support themselves or their families or gratify their own tastes or ambitions.
Tints they meet the test of what constitutes usefulness In a citizen by render
ing to the country, to the public, aud to their fellow citizens, service which
has no personal reward in it, but which advances the good of others uud
Contributes to the welfare of the community.—Success.