WAITING. I have a fleet of ships at sea That sail and sail away, All freighted down with hopes that I Look out for day by day. Mv ships are swept to East and West Before the gales that blow And many a hope is lost for aye That I had long ago. I wonder if, despite the storms, It shall be mine to see One ship with one high hope at last Bail safely home to me? —Chicago Record-Herald. JOE. BY L. BROWN. TWENTY-FIVE years ago I taught a school iu Southern Nebraska, which was only thinly settled in those days. But the few settlers were hardy men and women, living honest lives and go ing on slowly hut steadily to prosper ity, and I had a pleasant time among them. My schoolhouse was a very primitive affair indeed. It was small, unpainted and unplastered, but linda good lloor and fairly comfortable seats; and my pupils, of whom there were twenty two, were mostly hearty, wholesome boys and girls. One warm day in spring I opened the windows and doors to let in the genial sunshine nnd was busy with my classes, when in walked a strange hoy, whom I had never seen in the neighborhood. He was thickly freckled, had red hair, and was poorly dressed, but was very clean. He came directly to my desk. "May I come to school, teacher?" he asked, looking at mo earnestly. "Where do you live, my hoy?" I ques tioned. "Just hack here by the edge of the woods," he replied. "What is your name?" I asked. "Joe Mortou," sold he; adding, "we just moved here." "Well, Joseph," said I, "you may come to school. Come this afternoon I nnd bring all your hooks." A bright look came into his face as I said this, but he made 110 reply, and went out as unceremoniously as he came. He made a queer picture as ho went down the aisle. His clothing was patched, his coat was too big for him, and lie carried a large, ragged hat in his hand, But he held up his head in a self-respecting way, and I felt sure that Joe Morton was good nnd manly, and I resolved to help him all I could. I was afraid ho might not have a very pleasant time with a certain few of tho hoys; for, although they really were not had hoys at hearts, they were much given to making fun of any new comer, and sometimes made it very unpleasant for a boy who seemed odd or strange to them. The leader of tills set was Tom Atherton, a bright boy, hilt one who had very little kindly feeling for any one in school, excepting his little sister Pearl. Pearl Atherton was about seven years old and the most beautiful child I have over seen. Torn loved her witli a love that was almost worship; but to the rest of the pupils he was some thing of a tease and a torment, always teasing and making fun of some one, and sometimes in a most thoughtless, unkind way. I had many serious talks with him on the subject, hut as soon as he was out of the schoolroom, he seemed to forgot, and went back to his old ways. As Joe went down the aisle I glanced at Tom, nnd saw that Ills eyes were twinkling mischievously, which I was sure boded no good for Joe, but thought ho would ho able to defend himself. In the afternoon Joe came, and, nfter I had assigned his lessons, took his seat quietly. At recess I heard Tom's voice sing ing out: "I know a hoy whose name Is Joe, iWitli hoots all out at the too, toe, toe." I heard no answer from Joe, and soon Tom said mockingly: "What am I offered for the hat? Bid quick! The only one left that came out of tile ark How much am I of fered? Who'll make it one dollar?" And so it went from day to day. Tom saying unkind, jeering things as soon as ho supposed himself out of sight, and Joe taking it quietly. Some times a quick flush would pass over his face, and his lips would quiver, but no word escaped him. I thought best to appear not to know what was going on between them, thinking it would soon wear itself out, nnd perhaps Joe would feel better to think I did not know, hut I kept him with me as much as I could and grew to like him very much. He made rapid progress in his stud ies, and his everyday life showed strength of character. I could always depend on him to tell the truth on every occasion, and look ing into his earnest face, I would for get tile baggy clothes, the fiery red hair and the ragged bat. Not far from the schoolhouse was a wide, deep stream of water, which ran dank and turbid in the spring. It was crossed by a footbridge with a railing <lll both sides, Nenrly half tho chil dren crossed the bridge to get to school. On pleasant days wo often sat on the bank to eat our dinner, which we ■brought with us. One lovely day in early June we were seated there, after eating our dinner. I was reading a book, and the children were amusing themselves in various ways. Pearl Atherton strolled alone across the bridge, to look for violets, which sometimes grew on the opposite side. In coining back, she stopped in tiie middle of the bridge, threw some leaves Into the water, and leaned against the railing, ■watching them as they floated away. The railing was old and in some manner had become so loosened that it gave way with her weight, and, with a piercing cry, she went down and out of sight. Tom stood upon the hank, white and speechless, with a look of agony I shall never forget He could not swim, and so could never reach her. But at the first cry Joe had stripped off his coat, and in a minute plunged in and swam steadily toward the spot where the little golden head went down. He grasped her as she rose to the surface the second time, raised her head out of the water, and slowly swam with ber to the bank. When I took her from his arms, and laid her upon the grass, the beautiful face was white and still, but she had been in the water such a short time that a vigorous rubbing soon made her open her eyes and speak to us, and she was soon talking in her usual manner. We wrapped her up as well as we could, and sent her home with a neigh hor who was passing in a wagon. Joe ran home, changed his clothes, and came back none the worse for his wet ting. After the bell rang I missed Joe and Tom from their seats. The back door was ajar nnd I looked out. There stood Tom with tears in his eyes, holding both Joe's hands. "Can yon ever forgive me?" lie was saying. "I have been too hateful for anything, but I'm awfully sorry, Joe. If you'll forgive me I'll bo a better follow after this. If Pearl had been drowned I don't know what I would have done. Oh, Joe! I thought I would die when I saw her go under the water. I can't ever thank you enough." "I don't want any thanks," said Joe, putting his hand on Tom's shoulder. "It is ail right. I was glad to do it. Don't say anything more about it, please." They talked a few minutes longer, but I did not hear what they were say ing. Then they remembered that the bell had rung, and they came Into the sekoolhouse. From flint day Tom was a different boy. He was quiet nnd kind with the other pupils, and he nnd Joe were fast friends. He grew earnest nnd manly from seeing Joe's honest, upright life. When the term closed, I came to my Eastern home, and after a few years entirely lost track of my pupils. I did not kuow whither tliey had drifted, or what they were doing, though I often wondered. In the fall of IS9O I took a trip along the Pacific const, nnd one Sunday morning, in company with a friend, went to one of the finest churches I had seen in that locality. As the min ister began to speak, I thought I saw something familiar in his face nnd mnnner, but could not place him. Ho gave one of the most earnest, eloquent sermons to which I ever listened. I sat and wondered where I could have seen that man before. Suddenly It came to me—it was the look and manner of my pupil of years ago, Joe Morton. I waited to speak to Idm, nnd was Invited to call at his homo next day. And there I found him the same Joe in heart, nobly, tenderly caring for his feeble, white-haired mother and in valid father. He lias made for himself a name not soon to be forgotten in the State in which he lives; he is a strength nnd Inspiration to his friends; he has writ ten several books that stand high in the literature of our country, and once lie was only a ragged, barefooted boy. What may you not accomplish If you stand for the right and "try, try again ?"—Wnverley Magazine. The Novels of To-Morro\?,. Justin McCarthy, writing In the Lon don Daily Mail, sees no indication of real decay in the lietlon of the present generation, and is confident that the time will never come when the work done by fiction shall cease to be a necessary element in the conditions of human life. As to the forms of fiction, Mr. McCarthy predicts a great change, though he admits that "the love story can never cease to he a needful and welcome form of fiction." Aside from this, however, Mr. McCarthy thinks that "mere realism has done its best work, and that imagination is going to have its turn once again. But I see 110 sign in our recent English fiction of any desire to seek after such un wholesome stimulants. The general impression which I have formed of our present fiction is that it shows a healthy resolve to depart from tho mere traditions nnd conventionalities, the unities and limitations of preceding schools, and at the same time to study character rather than problem, nnd not to assume that realism can over sup ply the place of imagination. Tho fic tion of the present day is in a state of transition, and only waits the com ing of some great leader under whose Inspiration it may undertake tho new Held of conquest." Feeling in the lliglit Place,, When Mrs. Julia Dent Grant was liv ing in Philadelphia, in the house at No. HOOD Chestnut street, that hor hus band surrendered to his creditors at the time of the Grant & Ward failure, it is recorded of her that she was visited one afternoon by a rich but parsimonious old woman. Tho old woman narrated to Mra Grant the misfortunes that had lately attended a ward of hers, a young woman who had married JL drunkard and who had just been deserted, thought she was jieuuiless and had two little children. "I couldn't help but feel for her this morning when she told me about her trouble." said the old woman. "It was well that you felt for her." said Mrs. Grant. "But did you fee) in the right place? Did you feel in your pocket?"— New York Tribune. of "00-c/qi/ New York City.—Waists made with tucking that gives a yoke effect yet al lows fulness over the I >list always are becoming to young girls. Tills attract- MISSES' WAIST, lve and stylish May Manton bodice combines that feature with a collar and V-shaped jiortlon of lace that is outlined by the fashionable strap. The sleeves are among the latest aud add to the effect. The original is made of chiffon eolienne, in pastel rose, and Is stltclied with corticelli silk and com bined with cream-colored point do Ven lse, the strap and belt being of velvet in a darker shade than the waist. All waist and dress materials are, however, equally suitable; wool crepe albatross, cashmere, simple silks, veiling all being In style aud desirable. The waist consists of a fitted lining that closes at the centre back, the front, backs and umler-nrm gores of the waist | proper. The backs are tucked for their [ entire length and fit smoothly without fulness, hut the front Is tucked to yoke depth only and is gathered at the waist line to blouse becomingly at the belt. The V is faced onto the lining and the trimming is applied over the waist. The sleeves are arranged over fitted linings and consist of the caps, the tucked puffs and cuffs. The quantity of material required for the medium size (fourteen years) is three yards twenty-one inches wide, two and a half yards twenty-seven inches wide, or one and three-quarter yards forty-four inches wide, with three-quarter yards all-over lace and three-eighth yards of velvet to trim as Illustrated. WOUINN'S BLOUSE WULST. Blouse waists that Include wide verti cal tucks and are made with Hunga rian sleeves are much in vogue and are very generally becoming as well as fashionable. The stylish May Manton example shown In the large drawing is made of pale pink peau de cynge, stitched with black cortlcelli silk and trimmed with applique of black silk and fancy buttons, but all soft, pliable waist and gown materials are equally suitable and the design suits both the odd waist and the entire costume. The pointed straps make a feature and a novel one, and both stock and cuffs are new and desirable. The waist is made over a smoothly fitted lining that closes at the centre front and itself consists of fronts and Pack. The back is tucked to the form of a V to give the fashionable tapering effect to the figure. The fronts also are tucked and are closed invisibly beneath the innermost tuck at the left side. The back is without fulness, but the fronts blouse slightly and stylishly. The sleeves are made over fitted linings and consist of the tucked upper portion, full puffs and the pointed cuffs. The stock is finished separately and closes at the centre back. The quantity of material required for the medium Rize IS six yards twenty one Indies wide, four and a half yards twenty-seven inches wide or two and a half yards forty-four inches wide. DAINTY NOIRLLREC. It is quite the vogue with many women of taste to wear as a negligee a silk skirt and dressing sacques to match, in the place of the robe or gown. Many of these skirts and sacques are made of pale blue, pink, lavender or old gold China silk, with a deep flounce; the skirt, as well as the sacque, trimmed elaborately with bands and "insets" of white, cream or butter colored laces. Those made of white China silk, with butter colored lace and black velvet ribbon, are ex tremely dainty and stylish. Lnce Novelties. Most of the entire lace skirts are ornamented with ovals in ivory painted velvet. Pretty well everything we have is trimmed with lace, even leather slippers and card cases. Chamois tinted moire mingles with Irish point. The time was when we only introduced Cliantilly or white lace into the fronts of silk stockings; now they figure on Lisle thread and find great approval. WoiriHVi'a Ulnimo or Shirt Waist. Shirt waists made with slot seam and ! broad box pleats are among the novel ties of the season. This very smart model includes them both with the fashionable straps at the shoulders and centre back. The slot seams at tlie back are peculiarly desirable, as they are laid to form a V aud give a ta pering effect to the figure. As shown the waist is of pale blue al batross with bands piped with black liberty satin and stitched with black corticelli silk, and is closed by means of large gold studs, but all waisting materials are appropriate. Cheviot, ma dras and all washable fabrics are ad mirable unlined, while the many light weight wools and silks give every sat isfaction over the fitted foundation. The waist consists- of a smoothly fitted lining, which is closed at the cen tre front, but separately from the out side, the fronts and back of the waist proper and the bishop sleeves. The back is without fulness, but the fronts are gathered at the waist line and blouse becomingly over the belt. The slot seams are laid in at the shoulders and extend for the entire length of the waist and ttie fulness at the front is ar ranged in small pleats at the neck. The trimming straps are applied and stitched to position. The sleeves nre in bishop style with pointed cuffs that are held by studs which match those at the front. At the neck is worn a stock of black liberty finished with a bow tie. The quantity of material required for the medium size is four and a half yards twenty-one inches wide, four and BLOUSE WAIST. a quarter yards twenty-seven inches wide, four yards tlilrty-two inches wide or two and a half yards forty four inches wide. CHILDREN'S DEPARTMENT. MAKE SENSE OF TIIIS. A lilly sad resolved one day To have a sholly- joot, And so he took Ins gather's fun, And bartridges to coot. Across the fields he waily gent, And searched about for same; Alas! the birds were scery varoe- The bleather was to wame. But presently he hied a spare Inside a grunch of bass; Here was a chance to bake a mag- He couldn't pet it lass! He banced along the glarrels, and Troth biggers then he drew— My! bat a whang! Indeed, it would Have stadly bartlcd you! The clokc smeared off, and it was seen That ratters wei'e not might; The boy was bown upon his dack, The hare was sot in night. His kun had gicked and fluid him lat, But do not top a drear; The bruise wot gell—the hucky lare Lill stives, one s had to glear! —Chicago Record-Herald. HOW TO MAKE A VOLCANO. If one could only stand off anil nd mlre the grand spectacle made by a volcano In eruption, without being in danger from it and without anybody else's being in danger, there isn't one of us who would not look on the privilege as a rare treat. But as real volcanoes have away of making them selves terrible to the spectators, and of killing people and laying the country wastes a miniature one, one that will make a pretty little spectacle, and not do any harm at all, is greatly to be preferred. Here is the way to prepare it: Cet a large flat glass dish, and In the middle of It stand a small vial 111 • with claret wine and stoppered with a cork through which a small hole has been bored with a red hot wire. Now, get some clay or common earth MISSING BROTHERS' PUZZLE. r i\i (// ~i wf _lV^" •2/, *SjS^SrS^.']Nr Find the two brothers of this little boy. and build a miniature mountain around the vial. Build it high enough to con ceal the vial entirely, but leave a small hole in the top of the mountain clear down to the cork in the vial. Thus the miniature volcano will be ail ready to be set off. Strange to say, not fire, but water, will be needed for this purpose. A real volcano has both, for the explosion is caused by the contact of water with red hot melted rocks down in the earth and the enormous pressure of the steam thus generated breaks open the earth and throws out the melted rocks as lava. But tills little volcano can be started into action simply by pour ing water into the glass vessel until it comes two or three inches above the top of the little mountain. Then give the water a rotary motion and watch for a few moments and you will see red streaks coming up through the wa ter and gradually spreading out into a red cloud. The volcano is erupting! But what makes the red wine rise through the water in that way? 4t rises because It Is lighter than water. It would have remained in the vial, of course, if we had not poured the water into the vessel, but when the two liquids have come in contact, the lighter rises to the top. Your teacher would tell you that wine has less specific gravity than water, but we are not using scientific terms.—Brook lyn Eagle. A SHOOTING GALLERY. To make this get a piece of close grained wood one foot square and half an inch thick. Draw four circles, the first, two inches in diameter, the sec ond Ave inches in diameter, the third eight inches in diameter and the fourth eleven inches in diameter. Paint the space between each circle a different lllllllmmtiilillllllj color and also that outside the circles. Brads three-quarters of an inch long are to be driven from the hack inside of the eleven-inch circle, covering every part about one-half an inch apart. Be very careful not to split the board. Balis about one inch in diameter, are to be whittled from candles and thrown at the target. When they strike they will stick to the nail points. Each player lias three throws. The target should be numbered like the illustration, and the player making the highest score wins.—Washington Star. MUSIC IN BOAST BEEE. A roast of beef hardly seems promis ing in a musical way. and yet the ver.t. though It does look so sober and • van help you to secure an in strument of music. Save the lightest two of the long, lint bones (see illus tration) and, after cleaning and drying them, hold both in your right hand, one bone between the first and second finger, the other between the second and third, so that the convex or out ward curved sides lie next each other \ , and the top ends of the bones extend T slightly beyond the knuckles. Then double up your hand, holding the first bone securely, the other loosely, and In this position give your hand a quick twist and jerking motion, causing the loose ends of the bones to come to gether with a click, click, clickety, click. The bones should not be cooked, ns too much heat will crack them. In ease the bones are too large to ft handle with ease usk the butcher to bring you two smaller, lighter ones.— The Delineator. TWENTY-TWO CENTURIES OLD. Most boys and some girls have played In their time the game of dibs, or knucklebones, but few of them know that the gnine has existed since the third century B. C., and is probably still older. How It was played In an cient dnys 110 one can tell, but the ankle-joint bones of the sheep, ox," deer and pig were used, and the game was called "astragal," from the Latin word for the ankle-joint In Scotland pebbles are often employed, whence the nnme, "chuckles." Even precious stones and gold and bronze "stones" I have been used, and in some countries the bones were marked with numbers and colored to represent kings, queens, knaves and pawns. That natural sleep Is due to the drag ging effect of accumulated carbonic acid in the body Is the view taken by a French physiologist, Dr. Raphael Du bois.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers