?\ y*\P*\ %X t?n L\ / ♦ n%\%\**\ *f\ >K 7l\ 7A%\ >?\ ys\% \ %t, ?Ss 7*\ %\ ys \ >?\ ; A I THE PROMOTION OF | | WILLIAM GRAVES... | <$ \P M BY ALFRED J. WATERHOUSE. %~\ Tt\ 7S\ %< %< %* ✓% \/*\ >*\ %< %\ ?*\ TK >S\ %\ >K /i< ??\ >*\ %\ tk %\ %t>♦ t >?\ IN the remote distance stretched, n line of rugged mountains, their bleak canyons anil gorges made beautiful by the blue haze that nest ed upon them. Nearer, ou either Wind, the great California desert, its yellow sands and alkali flats giving back the intense heat of the sumuies day in radiant pulsations. No animals, no birds, no life nuywhhere, rave for the little gray lizards that bask in the sun and lazily blink their beadlike eyes in such dreamy reflection as a lizard knows. Across the valley of desolation the double iron line of the railroad stretches southward and eastward, and i'll-betide the man who journeys there on a summer day. Through the closed doors and windows, the almost Impon derable alkali dust penetrates and stifles him, and the passengers gasp in the heat that cannot be excluded. Stand at the little station, with its huge water tank, lis tiny agent's shanty, and two or three scrubby trees breaking the deadly monotony of the desert, and look northward along the track. At first'y° u shall see nothing except that double line bisecting its kingdom of loneliness, but as you con tinue to gaze, a tiny, toiling spec will gradually reveal itself to you; a spec that sometimes pasties as if it might toil no further, and then again ad vances very slowly toward the point where you stand. That toiling spec is a man, and the man once was known as William Graves. It has been years since he has responded to that name, and if you were to call him by it now it is doubtful if he would for a moment recognize that lie was addressed, but such was the name that was recorded In the register of the little church where he was christened long before he met the world and was erusheS by il. The man, dust-stained and perspir ing, with (lie blood running like Are in his veins, toiled slowly onward until ho came to a place where the track crossed a small gully that had been worn by the infrequent rains of win ter. There he paused and looked, first toward the station, now scarcely a \lile away, and next at the gully. At last ho shook his head and muttered to himself: "If I go in now I prob'ly won't get nnythin' to eat, an' the agent'll be sure to spot me if I try to get out to night. Better wait till evenin'. There's some shade in the guliy, anyhow." In the shade on the side of the ravine nearest to the westering sun the man took a drink of hot water from the battered canteen lie carried at his 6ido, and then laid himself at length on tlie ground, the tattered coat he had carried 011 his arm serving for a pil low. For a long time he lay there as immovable as if he had been carved of stone. So motionless was lie that tlie lizard, frightened by his coming, had scurried across the gully, gradu ally drew nearer to investigate tlie strange intruder. Scared by his own temerity, tlie little reptile occasionally wliiskcd away again, but as the in vader still lay immovable, he drew nearer and nearer after each retreat, until he reached a point where lie could Investigate the poorly shod foot extended toward him. lie was thus satisfying liis reptilian curiosity when the man for tlie first time spoke. "Nothin" to be 'frald of in me," he said; "we're partners in misery, 1 judge, but if you'll give me a pointer on how you get a square meal out here on the desert I'll be 'bliged to you." A childish shout followed close on the remark, and at tlie unexpected sound the lizard skurrled away to a distance be considered safe, while the man started to a sitting posture. "See him run!" said the voice. 'Mi the sand, at two or throe rods distance, stood a boy, a trimly-built Mid daintily-clad little fellow, at whom the man gazed in amazement before he found voice to say: "Well!" "Well!" There was no suggestion of fear in the response. "Don't you think you're a long way from home?" "Yes. I'm discoverin',.like Robinson Crusoe." A recollection of the tale of childhood beat through tlie world-confused brain of the man, and lie continued the child ish conceit: "And you've found Friday, haven't you?" "Are you Friday?" "I guess you might as well call me so." "All right, an' I'm Robinson Crusoe. Only, that isn't my real name; my real name's Arthur Henry Fulinan, an' I'm riding in the car with my pa." "Who is your pa, Robinson Crusoe?" "He's tlie Gen'ral Man'gcr, an' we had to stop here till to-night. Come on, now, let's go an' find the goats." "You forget about my condition, Rob inson." "What's the matter with it?" "Well, of course, you remember that when I got away from the savages I had no food, an' so I've been starvin' for pretty near two days." "That's so I'm sorry that I forgot about it, Friday. I guess I'll have to get you some food before we And the goats." "How will you get it?" "Easy 'nough. I'll go to the cook In the car and tell him I want something to eat, and he'll give it to me. lie al ways does." "But you'll tell him you want it for ' Friday?" "Of course." ' "That's it! I knew you'd make ihnt c mistake. Can't you see yourself what 1 trouble it would make?" - "N-n-n-o." I "Well, it would. You'd say, 'I want ' come food for Friday,' and tlie cook 1 would say, 'For who?' and you'd say, 1 'For Friday,' and he'd say: "'What, that old savage?' You see, r he doesn't know that you are going to have me for a good servant, and like as 1 not he wouldn't believe it." t "What had I better do 'bout it?" "Well, I think you'd better not say a ' word to let him, or nnybody, know that you've found Friday. What do you f think?" r "All right." f "All right, now soon will you be back?" "Pretty soon." "Well, I'll be waiting for you, an' I 1 guess the goats won't be much scat- ' tered by that time." ' After Robinson Crusoe had gone, Frl- r day again lay down, and before long f the lizard timidly renewed his invest!- a gations. The man lazily watched the 1 little creature for a time before he 11 again spoke: t "It may not work, partner; but if it 1 does I'll see that you have a square * meal for once. This desert air must * get kind 0' unsatisfying to you as rcg'lar diet sometimes." 1 At the sound of a human voice the 1 lizard again slid away, and the man ' arose to look down tlie track. Robin- c son Crusoe was coming, and that he 1 had been successful in his mission was 1 Indicated by the fact that he was alone, ' while a parcel was tightly clutched in 1 one of his chubby little hands. ' "Now, then, Friday," he announced immediately upon his arrival, "you eat ' tliis and you'll feel better. Then we ' must hurry after the goats, for the 1 cook said that lie would ring the bell ' for me to come before very long." - ( It Is much to be - regretted that Frl- 1 day, who at first ate so ravenously as f to astonish Robinson Crusoe, Anally so ' delayed the eating of his supper, as ' well 11s the spreading of a repast for the lizard, that tlie bell rang for the re turn of Robinson Crusoe before the search for the goals had begum This ' was a fact that greatly disturbed Mr. Crusoe, but he regained a certain 1 amount of composure when Friday, ' who did not seem to be greatly grieved, 1 assured him that lie probably would be ' there if ever Crusoe should return. When No. G, with tlie General Mana- * gcr's private car attached, pulled out of the little station that night it bore •' an unsolicited and unticketed passen- •' gel- in tlie person of Mr. William - Graves, more recently known as Fri day. It had been a trying task to hide behind the tank and reach tlie 1 brakebeam of the prlvnte car unseen, ' but Friday was a past master In strat egy along that line, and, after various narrow escapes, lie had succeeded. As tlie train sped eastward a cease- ' less storm of cinders beat upon him ' anil the dust blinded ids eyes, but lie ! pulled Ids frowzy lint as low as possi- ' lile, and consoled himself with the re flection that each hour was taking him 1 further from tlie country of absolute ' desolation. 111 his comfortable bed in ' tlie car above him slept Robinson Cru- 1 soe and dreamed, perhaps, of Friday ' and captured goats, and as the worn wayfarer beneath him pictured the lit- - tie fellow there a tender smile tried to : make itself visible through the grime that hid his countenance. 1 On flew the train. Brady's had been pnssed, anil Shin-ell's; then came a stop which the man 011 the brnkebenm could not understand. There was 110 station here; this 110 knew, and, even if 110 had not known, the glance he stole from ids hidden point of obser vation would have convinced him. lie had protruded his head as far as he dared in order to obtain a better view when a succession of shots and the sound of hurried- footsteps caused him hastily to withdraw it. "Some of the boys after the stuff on board," he muttered to himself. "Well, let 'em get it. They won't have any 'easion to bother me." With tills pleasant reflection Friday settled back to the enjoyment of the gratification lie found in temporary re ' lief from tile flying cinders. He was tiius pleasing himself, and at tlie same time trying to imagine just what stage the outside proceedings had attained, when two shadowy forms passed by his retreat and the low murmur of con versation came to his cars. "I tell you there is the biggest kind ■ of money in it." "The old man will be wild. lie thinks ' his is the only kid that ever lived." "So much the better. We won't get a cent less than fifty thousand ran ! som." "He'll have every officer in the State out after us." "What good will it do him? Give us a two hours' start, and we are certain of more than that, and the best posse t that ever chased a man can't got us." I "How'U we do It?" ' "Easy. Y'ou an' Bill take tlie front door of the car, and Jack an' me will t take the rear. If he tries to do any 0 shooting, drop him." e As the footsteps retreated and the voices died away tlie man on the brake beam started as if to emerge from his II retreat, at the same time muttering to g himself, "Well, I don't know." Then 1- he took a second thought and settled back again. 1 It was a critical time in the lite of William Graves, foot tourist nncl man Friday, as he lay there and thought. Neither the precept nor practice of ids later years of living had tended In the direction of heroism, yet lie lay there and contemplated the doing of a heroic deed. Not that he considered the deed in that light; probably his entire thought was best expressed in his own muttered words: "The little chap was good to me; he fed me when I was hungry." But heroism needs not to be labeled such in order to make it so. As he lay on the brakebeam and thought, a dozen little things made it evident to the man that matters on the outside of the car were rapidly pro gressing to a denouement. Two men passed to the rear of the car, and he heard footsteps on the front platform. If anything was to be done, it must be done quickly. William Graves hesitated just a mo ment longer. Then, very quietly, he emerged from his retreat. In the dark ness on the outside of the ear he hesi tated again, but only for a moment. "I'll take a chance," he muttered to himself; "he was good to me." A second later the two men on the front platform of the car were sur prised as a shadowy form swung itself from tlte ground to their side. "Is that you, Tom?" whispered one. "Where did you leave the brakeman?" The answer was a staggering blow that knocked him to the ground, where lie lay, stunned by the force of the fall. In another moment the two men that remained upon the platform were en gaged in a desperate struggle. Back and forth they swayed for a minute; then there was the crack of a revolver, and William Graves fell. He had just time to fancy that the shot was echoed by another, and then the dim cars seemed chasing each other in a fantas tic race, and he knew no more. The General Manager had taken a hand in the struggle; that was the meaning of the echo he fancied he heard before the world and he parted company for a time. The General Man ager's shot did execution, too, and, with two of the outlaws disabled and the passengers aware that resistance . had become possible, it took but brief time to put Hie rest of the gang to rout. When William Graves came back to the land of the living from the unseen country where he had journeyed for n little while, ids eyes opened upon such a scene of luxury as caused him to close them again with the notlbn that lie must be dreaming. Then, as he slowly opened them again he became aware that a very small voice was ad dressing him: "How are you now, Friday?" "Pretty well, Koblnson." "Does your shoulder hurt much now?" For the first time the man who had passed from the brakebeam of a pri vate car to a place on its softest bed noticed that something did appear to lie wrong with his right side. "It does seem to hurt a little," he said. "That's where the robber winged you, but my pa fixed him. Going to go after goats with me when you get well, ■Friday?" "I guess I will, Robinson." That was all the two talked then, for a tali man appeared and said To Will iam Graves: "You would better go to sleep now. There will be time for talk hereafter." So William Graves, with no room in ids mind for anything except wonder that he, the man of the brakebeam, should bo placed amid sueli surround ings, went to sleep. It was quite a week later, and Robin son and Friday had hnd many a talk in the meantime, when the tall man sat down by tlte bed in his house where tlte wounded man still passed much of his time, and said to him: "Tell me something about yourself, if you please; not at present about that niglit, for I saw you when you at tacked the two men, but about your self." ■' J By tills time William Graves knew that the tall man was the General Manager, and, notwithstanding the kind treatment he hnd received lie stood somewhat in awe of him. So he merely turned uneasily on his bed and said: "There isn't much to tell." "What is your business?" "Brakebeam tourist." The tall man smiled. "So I judged," lie said. "Did you ever have any other business ?" "Used to railroad it." "What happened?" "Went on a strike; never got back." "What made you attack those two desperate men the other night?" "Heard tlictit say they were going to steal Robinson. He hnd been good to me." The thought of Robinson-was a very dear thought to the tall man, and so, as lie turned away, it need not be con sidered strange that there was a pecu liar and very unusual dimness in his eyes. But all that he said was: "Well, hereafter you will have all the chance of which you prove yourself worthy." William Grave had that chance, and he proved himself worthy. Through the various grades of the service, and with the General Manager's kindly eye always upon him, he worked his way upward. To-dny he is in charge of a division. Sometimes there strides into his ofiiee n tall young man who says, "How are you, Friday?" and he re sponds, "Hello, Robinson!" for the two are as good friends as ever, although they have long since given up the idea of finding goats on the California des ert. And so it was that William Graves was promoted from a brakebeam.— New York Times. Cornell is going to retire her pro fessors over seventy years of age on annuities, and,, strange as it may seem, sis. has four to retire next June. t®l"ucl\ emel © © © ® /\elveni'ur©. TORTURE FOR BRAVE SCOUT. OLONEL KOSTERLITSKI, J / commanding the International j Boundary Rifles, of Sonora, Mex., has received from Major Joaquin Fontes, of Potam, Rio Yaqul, a letter giving an account of tba tragic death of "California Dnn" Ryan, chief of scouts under General Luis Torres, at Torin. According to Mayor Fontes, El Itenegado, leader of the Yaquis, shifted his position from Ontejuota to Bncum without the knowledge of the Mexicans. In this way ho was enabled to set the trap into which Ryan fell. Ryan became chief of scouts under General Torres through the influence of the American General Egan. Egan introduced and recommended Ryan to General Torres, and subsequently the Mexican General made the Arizona cowboy chief of his scouts in the vicin ity of Torin, at a salary of $l2O a month. Through Ryan's efforts the Yaquis were kept away from Torin and con fined to the bush between Bacum nnd Ontejuota. Owing to the success of the chief of scouts the Yaquis desired ids death more than that of any other man excepting General Lorenzo Torres. Since November 1 there have been numerous skirmishes between the troops of General Lorenzo Torres and the Yaquis under Gutmazoleo iti the vicinity of Ontejuota, which is the stronghold of Gutmazoleo. It was be lieved that El Renegado was closely confined at Ontejuota, that there was no danger from the Yaquis In the vicin ity of Bacum, where the forces of Lor enzo Torres wore quartered. But by making a long or very intricate detour El Renegado succeeded in changing his position from Ontejuota to a point be tween Bacum and Torin and within four miles of Bncum. In order to ac complish this strategy ho could not have had more than a dozen Yaquis with him. On November 23 General Luis Torres received from his brother Lorenzo a telegram asking for scouts. The des patch was regarded as urgent, and "California Dan" and George IV. Wil son were sent to join Lorenzo at Ba cum. The two scouts loft Torin with an escort under command of Captain Yslas, and rode ahead. They were seen no more, and were supposed to have entered Bacum. When the troops reached the town the scouts had not been heard of, and nothing was known of their fate until several days later, when Wilson arrived with a tale of horror. It appears that when the scouts had made a turn in the road that hid them from the escort they were set upon suddenly by a band of Yaquis that had been .concealed by the roadside. So un expected nnd fierce was the attack that the scouts were thrown from their horses and fell into the thick growth of cacti and pethava on the roadside. Before tlicy could utter a single cry they were beaten over their hands by macanas in the hands of the Yaquis until they were unconscious. After being gagged and bound to their horses they were brought by their captors to the Yaqul camp at Ontejuota, where they were tried by the Yaqul Council of War, consisting of El Renegado, Gutmazoleo, Maldonado, Cupo nnd Florro Tenebanto. El Renegado acted as president of the council. "California Dan" was condemned to death. Grttmazoleo and Ficrro voted to spare him, while Maldonado and Cupo voted dentil to him. El Rene gado, who held the deciding vote, voted with Maldonado and Cupo. Wilson was acquitted, in order that he might tell the Mexicans what had happeiJru to "California Dan." Wilson was warned to leave Mexico. "California Dan," whose hunger was groat, was given a splendid meal be fore being led to execution. This was not the result of generosity on the part of the Yaquis, but was because of their desire to make lib death all the more excruciating. At the execution grounds, in the presence of Wilson, the Yaquis, with dull saws, cut off the feet of "Califor-, nia Dan" just above the ankles. After this they unbound liini and told him to go and report to Lorenzo Torres for duty. By goading him they compelled him to walk beyond the Intrenehments of Ontejuota. In the bush, about one hundred yards beyond the intreneh ments, lie fell and expired in great agony. Next morning the Yaquis took the body of "California Dan" and bore it to the roadside. There they suspended It by the neck from a tree. At this spot they released Wilson, and told fiim to Bend Mexicans to cut down {he body of "their friend and give it Or cent burial. Wilson, after reaching Bacum, de clared that he did not intend to leave Mexico, but would lend a force of troops to recover the body of "Cali fornia Dan," for the reason that ft Is In a position controlled by the Yaquis of Ontejuota. The body is In open sight of tlie Mexican troops of Oocorit. —New l'ork World. SMASHED BOTTLE ON COUGAR. Four children of lr. Rodenbcrg, whose home is at Big Skookum, go to school at a public ehool house a long way off. One Wednesday during the last of .Tune these children, being on tlie road bomoward, were straggling along at some distance from one an other, when a cougar sprang out of an ambush and seized the little boy who brought up tlie rear. This little fellow was the youngest of the party, being only six years old, nnd least likely to resist the beast, as that watchful crea ture seems to have known when it saw the school children going by, single file. The cougar seized the lad by the head and sat upon him, snarling at the other boy of the party, an eight-year old youngster, who came running with might and main to save his brother. The brave boy hnd in his right hand a milk bottle of henvy glass. lie took hold of one of the cougar's ears, and with the bottle began to beat the snarling beast over the head. At the third or fourth blow the bottle broke, and a hundred fragments of glass were scattered about. It is possible that some of the fragments entered the cougar's blazing eyes, for as soon as the bottle broke he let go hi 3 hold and ran off, plunging into the bushes, from which ho did not again emerge. Meanwhile the unhurt children took the wounded boy into a farmhouse. The wounds were all flesh wounds, nud when they were dressed the little fel low grew quite animated in his account of the adventure, which was soon the talk of the neighborhood.—Seattle Post- Intelligencer. A WOMAN'S nEROISM. Tlte Siberia that the Russian convict kuow3 is, if half the reports about It are true, a place where life is worse than death. Yet it is not an uncom mon thing for the wives of Russian convicts to follow their husbands into exile in that dreadful land of hard ships. Quite recently there sot out for the mines of Siberia a lonely woman with a baby in her arms. She will trudge the whole distance, if her strength holds out, alone, begging her food where she can. Her sole object is to join her husband, who is a convict. Ho was one of the Russian troops who, some months back, refused to fire on a mob that was demonstrating against the iron hand of bureaucracy. He was court-martialed and sentenced to the mines for life. He was less lucky than certain others, who were merely shot. Without delay he was dragged to the penal settlement, and not for days did his wife learn what had become of him. As soon as she knew she sought per mission to join him. It was only by chance that shg got within hearing distance of an official powerful enough to grant or deny her permission, but he did neither; he merely said that the road to the mines was an open road, and If she could walk the distance no obstacle would be put in her way. So she set out. If she falls by the roadside and dies of exhaustion or starvation, with her babe on her bosom, the world will never know. But the world is richer Cor her effort and her lovo, A THRILLING CAREER. After costing the Italian Government the sum of £120,000, and the services of five regiments for nearly two years, Musolino has at last been caught and caged. But, great ns has been the terror inspired by this famous bandit, bis actual power was small compared with that of several uncrowned kings whoso names are far less known to tlie public. At the age of fourteen, Boris Sarafoff, a young Bulgarian, at tacked single-handed the prison in which bis father and grandfather were lying in chains, after cruel torture at the hands of the Turks. lie was seized and Hogged almost to death. The boy swore to devote his life tc revenge. lie entered the Bulgarian army and gained a name as a magma cent cavalry leader. His bravery and open-handed generosity made him the idol of the people. In 1895 he left the regular army and raised an irregular corps, with whom he retired into the fastnesses of the mountains. Since that time ho has headed no fewer than 354 raids Into Turkish territory. Once lie captured the Turkish town of Mel nek with no more than forty men, driving before him 300 Turkish troops. The terror of his name has penetrated to the Sultan's palace, and his secret agents are said to bo found in Con stantinople itself. His aim is to or ganize an immense rebellion in which all the Balkan States shall join, ns well ns Greece, seize Constantinople and proclaim a Christian kingdom of the East. Not only Turkey, but Aus tria, Russia and Britain know that tlds man holds in ids hands the peace of Europe.—Pearson's Weekly, BRAVERY OF THE MATABELE. A man Is considered brave, and right, ly so, who walks up to a tiger on foot, armed with an express rifle; but. this reputation for courage pales before the Matabele who, armed only with a spear and ox-hide shield, attacks a lion. Their tactics are described by F. C. Scions, in the Sports of the World. A lion having killed an ox, a band of Matabele warriors would track him and surround ids lair. When the king of beasts was ringed the warriors closed in on him. Finding retreat cut off on all sides, the lion stood at bay, facing first toward one of his naked assailants, then toward another, growl ing hoarsely all the while. A chosen man then rushed the lion, shaking his shield and shouting out words of con tenmpt and abuse. Almost invariably the lion accepted the challenge, and charged down upon the intrepid savage. As the lion charged, its challenger, after making one stab at it with his assegai, was dashed to the ground, but endeavored to fall beneath the cover of his great ox-hide shield. At the same moment his companions rushed in from all sides, and the lion was soon stabbed to death. In these encounters many men were killed or more or less seriously mauled; but a single lion, when once surrounded and brought to bay seldom escaped. When, as often happens, n pnrty of lions were attacked, one or two were usually killed, and the rest broke , through the coriho,-"London Express. fffye Funny ifide Life. WOMANLIKE. She site beside the window all the day, But never sees the people who go by; Her look is very, very far away !*• And now and then she draws a gentle sigh. She waits for one to come who never will. For ope who bade her wait for him one day; And if ho came she'd spurn his touch, but still , She waits for him and grieves her life away. —Chicago Record-Herald. DISINHERITED. "Remember, my daughter, that 'the meek shall inherit the earth.' " "Yes! But some chesty individual will always smash the Willi"—Buck. THE REGULAR THING. Cleverton—"You've been pretty ill, ■* haven't you ?" Dashaway—"Y'es, sir! So ill that several doctors had to be called in dis- j agreement."—Puck. I WHY ASK? "And what does your son Intend to write—historical novels or literature?" "As I said before, he expects to get rich from the work of his pen."—Chi cago Record-Herald. A SURE THING. Fluhdubbe—"Do you suppose that girl Bilkins is to marry is as rich as she is said to be?" Plnhedde—"No question about it—l know Bilkins."—The Smart Set. A STUDY OF A RICH MAN. "I wonders bow a rich man feels?" "Well, I'll tell you. He feel dis nway: Now dat lie got it he can't keep it; en ef he do keep it somebody else will sho' git it!"— Atlanta Constltu- \ tiou. yC HIS BADLY CHOSEN PHRASE. "Don't you think that young Hunker wants to marry Miss Dollyers for her money?" asked Ho jack. "I think so," replied Tomdlk. "I heard him say that he loved her for all she was worth."—Judge. POSITIVELY RUDE. Miss Cutting—"l'm surprised to soo you here, Mr. Softlelgli. I thought you were traveling In Europe." Softleigh—"Wenlly, I—aw—did think Df going, donclierknow, hut—aw—at the last moment I changed nie mind." Miss Cutting—"lndeed. But I am sure you couldn't have lost anything by mnking the change."—New York World. RESPONSIBILITIES. r "Remember," said the serious citizen, "that wealth lias Its responsibilities." "Yes," answered Mr. Cumrox. "So long as you are humble and obscure you can say 'I seen It' and '1 done it' and cat with your knife all you want to."—Washington Star. nE KNEW. Mrs. McCaul—"lsn't this little John ny Gadaway?" Johnny—"Yos'm." Mrs. McCaul—"l was just going to call on your mamma. Is slie at home?" Johnny—"No'm! She's just went flown on the next block to look for me." —Philadelphia Press. JUST THE SIZE, The silver moon peeped up behind the hills of Lake Roland. * "What is the height of your ambit j • tlon?" she'asked, more to break the Jf monotony than anything else. 0^ "Oh, about five feet two inches!" he replied, gazing into her dark eyes. The cards are out.—New York Her ald. THE COMMON"ENEMY. Captain Hull was recounting the glorious victory of tile Constitution. "And so," he concluded, "we were plainly one too many for the Guer rlere." "Yes," Interrupted his officer; "we were a Hull lot." Throwing bouquets at each other, they then retired to light the Secretary of the Navy.—New York Times. ITS BRIEF CAREER. In an evil hour the Association of 1 Kitchen Ladies, numbering forty, cided to hold a qpokery competition. Five prizes were to be given. The affair came off, and the five prizes for excellence in cookery were awarded. Whereupon the thirty-five kitchen ladles that had failed to win any of them Indignantly resigned and broke up the organization.—Chicago Tribune,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers