THE LAND OF MAKE BELIEVE.
Let a* le* the little children have the legends
and the rest;
Let them keep the glad Illusions of the years
that are the best;
Let them know the joyous fancies of the
mystio fairyland.
And the wonderful enchantments only they
can understand—
For the years are coming to them when
they'll sigh, and softly grieve
That they left the realtn of childhood In the
Land of Make Believe.
In the Land of Make Believe thero is a vine
that meets the sky,
And Jaek goes up and down it—we have
seen him, you and I;
Thoro's a winding path that leads us to the
hushes of the wood,
And a-in any times we've trod it with tho
quaint Bed Bidinghood;
There's a frowning cllfT surmounted by a
castle grutu and grim,
And old Bluebeard lurks within It you
know how wo peered at him!
$ U/ye Architect Buir&lar. $
No one who had happened to ob
serve the figure of Mr. Bromley Brown
•wandering round his garden on a cer
tain mild April morning would havo
Imagined him to be suffering from an
acute sense of regret for his wasted
opportunities.
From the top of his bald head to the
toes of his shiny boots he might have
stood for a model of middle class pros
perity. His gray suit, if it accentuated
the rouud proportions of his figure,
was of fashionable cut, and he held a
Panama hat of finest straw in tho
square hand on which a diamond glit
tered in the spring sunshine. Behind
the terrace, over which figures of im
possible animals in stone kept watch
at each corner, stood his new and elab
orately furnished bungalow, aggressive
and much decorated. Mr. Bromley
Brown's room In the tower overlooked
a stretch of pine woods —a small
Jake, which shono with steely bright
ness under a fringe of larches, and a
far-away range of rising ground. He
did not often glanco at the view, but
It pleased him to know that it was un
deniably finer than even that com
manded from the windows of his neigh
bor, General Compton, whose family
bad owned acres of surrounding heath
er and firs for generations past.
Mr. Brown took one last stroll on
the lawn, and as ho slowly ascended
the steps of the terrace, the parlor
maid laid the newspapers on a table
outside a bow window. A girl's figure
leaned out, and a young voice called
to him:
"Why do you look so solemn, papa,
dear? What a perfect day it is! Warm
and sunny enough for June!"
The lines on Mr. Bromley Brown's
face relaxed.
"I was thinking," he said, impress
ively, "of how very little material com
fort signifies, and how few of us are
satisfied."
"I den't In the least agree with you
fhere, dear," said Valentine, who was
eminently practical,
"I have built this bungalow," con
fined Mr. Bromley Brown, "as a place
to rest in after a life spent In the
dullest of all occupations—money mak
ing. But I am aware that thousands
of men would both have enjoyed the
occupation and welcomed the peace of
this beautiful Bpot. I do neither, 1
/was destined by nature for something
Widely different."
"You say that because you have done
nothing lately hut read those foolish
novels." —hero she pointed a small,
scornful finger at a hook lying open ou
the table—"since you had influenza,
papa, dear."
"I beg your pardon, Valentine—l
know I may not look it, but sinco my
earliest days, as 1 have often told you.l
have had a curious, wild craving for
adventure, for some excitement outside
the deadly routine of a business life.
It is hard," and Mr. Bromley Brown
raised his voice in querulous expostu
lation, "that here I am, a man who has
made a considerable fortune in a spe
cial cough lozenge, hut who, all
through his boyhood, has vainly wished
to be a pirate, and who now"—he
waved his hand in the direction of
the bungalow, (hen toward the smooth
shaven lawn, "would most gladly give
all i-ts luxury to be a successful de
tective."
Valentine laughed, and leaned still
further out of the window. She, for
her part, was absolutely satisfied with
the fair face worn by the world around
her. She watched a fat blackbird as
he shuffled along by the golden border
of daffodils—she rejoiced to kr.ow that
the air was musical with the voices of
larks, to see that the sun glittered on
the pool below General Compton's
house and turned its casements into
twinkling diamonds. A man went
slowly down the green drive by the
pool, his arm swaying to and' fro as
he sowed grass seeds. The earth
seemed to sing a song of renewal and
hope, of love and sunshine. How good
It was* only to breathe and to live!
Other roople might have thought that
life would be none the less pleasant
to Valentine because her eyes were
largo and gray, and her checks rosy
like the bloom on the boughs of a
cherry tree. But she did not take
mueli account of these advantages! nor
of the fact that she was the only child
of the prosperous house of Bromley
Brown.
Her father took off his gokl-rimmed
glasses—and laid clown his newspaper.
"Ha! this is most curious!" said he.
"What a splendid chance if one could
only light upon him —'the plausible
scoundrel! The shrewd young vil
lain!"
Valentino turned her gray eyes on
his shining crimson fare
"Listen to me—Val," ho cried, "you
remember the general told us last
In the Land of Make Believe we used to
ramble up and down
To the playing of the Fiper in the streets of
Hamelintown;
And we saw the fairy mother mnke the
horses rear and prance
When we rode wiih Ciadorellu to the palace
for tho dance;
And of evenings, you remember how wo saw
some one go by,
And we knew it was the Sandman, come to
shut each blinking eye!
All the others—how we loved th-'ml llow
they used to come and play
Till at last they sent a message that they'd
come no more, one day,
For they had to leave us lonely with our
broken dreuins and toys
While they staid behind in childhood with
the little girls ami boys.
Lot us lot tho children have them, ere the
years come when they grieve
That they ever found the highway from the
Land of Make Believe!
W. D. Nesbit, in Chicago Tribune.
•week that the Mumbys and the Jelli
coes had both had their pantry win
dows forced open?"
"Did he? I don't think I was listen
ing."
"The Mumbys lost a lot of plated
things—l know that he keeps his sil
ver in the bank, and lets his friends
use those horrible thick spoons—and
poor old Jeljicoe had that hideous cen
trepiece, given him by the cricket club,
taken. Now it transpires that in all
probability the burglar, or the moving
spirit of the gang, is a young man who
has been sketching houses in the
neighborhood. He professes to making
architectural drawings, and by so do
ing finds out all manner of details."
"That is certainly very original."
"Original. I should think so. In
fernally sharp, I call it." Mr. Brom
ley Brown here proceeded to read aloud
an extract from the newspaper.
" 'The 'architect-burglar,' for by this
sobriquet this accomplished criminal is
now known, has been seen, it is be
lieved, not long ago in this neighbor
hood, although probably he is now
many miles away from the scene of his
late exploits. He is described as a
young man of gentlemanlike and mili
tary appearance, with fair hair and
mustache, and wearing clothes of fash
ionable make.'"
Mr. Bromley Blown was soon ab
sorbed in meditation. He pictured
himself, resolute, terrible, cunning,
hounding down this distinguished
criminal, bringing him to justice—af
terward, in court, replying with tell
ing sarcasm to the cross-examination
of the prisoner's counsel, and, lastly,
complimented by the judge on the lu
cid, admirable way in which he had
given his evidence. Life was 110 long
er sordid and prosaic; it was palpitat
ing with romance. He fell asleep to the
accompaniment of the lark's song, and
dreamed that he was the chief of po
lice in Russia. Waking up with a
start, he heard the clock strike 12.
"Gracious me!" ho cried aloud. With
his waking eyes ho still seemed to see
the female Nihilist of his vision, point
ing a revolver at his head. He
stretched himself and walked sadly
across the lawn toward the hedge that
bounded his garden. Below him was
the riband of white road, pine bor
dered. Mr. Bromley Brown started,
but much more violently this time.
Then he rubbed his face and eyes with
his handkerchief and uttered a low
exclamation.
A few yards away in the road ho I
saw the figure of a young man, tall,
fair, yes, and of unmistakably soldier
ly appearance! And he was sketching.
A thrill ran down Mr. Brown's spine.
He might not be the chief of the Rus
sian police, but was he not on the eve
of a discovery, an adventure, the pos
sible player in a great and dramatic
case? He coughed and unlocked the
gate leading to the road. In one mo
ment his mind had been made up. He
would invite this young man, obvious
ly no other than the architect-burglar,
with friendly greeting, into his house.
A hurried word to the coachman would
send him, on swift feet, for two of the
local police. Another messenger would j
hasten to General Compton, the stern
est of county magistrates, and he would
arrive in time to be a witness of the
discomfiture of a notorious criminal,
and of the ingenuity and promptitude
of his old friend Brown. Meanwhile
the young man had looked up smiling
ly. In answer to the remarks of the
old gentleman by the hedge he said
that he had come a considerable dis
tance —that—and this with a very
pleasant laugh—well, yes, he was
thirsty, and that there would be plenty
of time to finish his sketch after lun
-1 cheon, and that he thought it a most
kind suggestion of his questioner to
invite him to have some.
Mr. Bromley Brown, whose cheek
had now lost much of its usual ruddi-
I ness, walked with set lips and a curi
ous enigmatic expression on his faco
up the stone steps on to the terrace,
and the young man, smiling and un
| concerned, fallowed him Into the draw
r ing room. For one instant Mr. Brown
glanced nervously at a silver box and
4 candlestick on Valentine's writing ta
, ble. Then, murmuring an excuse, he
I ran, panting, to the stables; in a chok
r ing voice dispatched the astonished
coachman for the police, and a helper,
with an impressive message scribbled
* on a card, to General Compton. On
his return ho found the architect-bur
• glar laughing over a favorite book of
1 Valentine's the "Diary of a "Nobody"—
3 and they two -talked. Mr. Brown, for
his part, with a curious absent mind
cduees, of bord<6 and different forms
) of humor. The parlor maid inter
rupted them to say that some cold
i meat was ready, and the two men ad
t journed to the dining room. The guest
seemed duly grateful for a whiskf.y
and soda.
"That's a beautiful old cup," he re
marked, pointing to a piece of silver
of Queen Anne date in the middle of
the table.
Mi-. Bromley Brown's expression of
mingled triumph and sarcasm passed
unnoticed by the cheerful young visit
or, who talked for some time with in
telligence and knowledge on the sub
ject of old plate. Mr. Brown was be
coming so agitated that he began to
walk up and down the room.
"And these are lovely spoons," ob
served the architect-burglar, with ap
palling coolness. The clock struck
one—and he rose quickly to his feet.
"Thank you a thousand times for
your hospitality," he said, pleasantly.
"I am afraid I must be off. You see
I am sketching for duty, not pleasure."
Mr. Brown gazed at him aghast, but
not without admiration. He felt that
this mu3t indeed be one of the most re
markable criminals now at large.
"Don't hurry—pray," he said, ner
vously. "Have a glass of green Char
treuse."
"You are too kind," sadd his guest.
Thero was a sound of steps at the
door, and a voice outside, which sound
ed like a word of command, said:
"Where is the man?"
The door was flung open, and a tali,
soldierly figure stepped quickly intcf
the dining room.
"Well, Brown, what's all this about?"
General Compton, young and alert
for his years, stared at his friend with
a pair of very keen eyes under white
eyebrows. "You told me it was some
very urgent business," continued the
general. Then his eyes fell on the
young man by the further window.
"Bless my soul, Estcourt! I didn't
see it was you in the corner.
"Yes, and how are you, general?"
said the young man, advancing, with
a cordial smile.
Mr. Bromley Brown felt a sudden
cold perspiration on his forehead. Ho
was entirely unable to utter a word.
"Mr. —Mr.?" said the young man—
"was so kind as to ask me to have a
whiskey and soda. It is so wonderful
ly hot for April, and I've been out do
ing this blessed topography for the
last, four hours.
"Ah! then you don't know each oth
er?" said the general. "Brown, this
is Lord Estcourt, son of my old friend
whom I have often talked about, you
know. He is working like a nigger at
the college," and the speaker pointing
toward a distant view of a large white
building miles away beyond the grove
of pines. "Estcourt, this is Mr. Brom
ley Brown, one of my best neighbors."
Mr. Brown felt as if some one had
struck him a violent blow on the head.
He was giddy as he stiffly extended an
icy hand toward the young man.
"Papa! papa!" A fresh young voice
came echoing from the garden, and in
another moment a young girl ran into
the room. Lord Estcourt was just re
calling to mind a well known adver
tisement:
"Bromley Brown's Cough Lozenges
are the Best! They will cure a cough
of long standing, arising from no mat
ter what cause," but the girl's face
caught his attention. It was fair and
flushed, and the large gray eyes shone
starlike under her broad black hat.
"Papa, there are two policemen
here! They say they have come for
some one—what does it mean?"
"Oh, only about the chickens that
were stolen, my dear," said her father,
miserably.
"But there are no chickens! You
know you said you wouldn't have any,
because you said they spoil the gar
don."
"Did I say chickens?" Mr. Bromley
Brown's dreary expression was that of
a victim being led to execution. "Of
couree I meant the forced strawber
ries. Valentine, my dear"—
The young man was still gazing at
the lovely, puzzled face of his host's
daughter.
"Your father has been so kind to mc,
Miss Brown," said he. "I am strug
gling over military drawing, and in
daily terror of being plowed. But this
morning I am going back to work in
vigorated and rested, and full of cour
age!"
She blushed as her eyes met his
smiling blue ones.
"Oh! You are studying at the col
lege t"
"Yes —I wonder —would you and your
father care to come over and see it
some day?"
"Oh! that would be delightful, papa,
dear, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, indeed, indeed it would," Mr.
Brown was still feeling half paralyzed.
"Goodby, Estcourt, my boy," said
General Compton. "I have got to have
a word now witn Brown on some most
important business about which I camo
down."
I.ord Estcourt drew a little nearer
•to Valentine.
"You will drive over very soon, then,
Miss Brown?"
"Thank you—l am sure we shall en
joy it ever so much!"
"Then we won't say goodby, I think,"
raid he, as he took her hand. —The
King.
Watch the Mustache.
A late fad among women is the
I reading of mala character by observa
j tions at not too close range of the
mustaches of their masculine ac
qualntances. It is held that when the
mustache is ragged and, as it were,
flying hither and thither, there is a
lack of self-control. When it is
straight and orderly, the reverse is the
case. If there is a tendency to curl at
the outer ends of the mustache there
is a tendency to ambition, vanity and
display. When the curl turns upward
there Is geniality. When the inclina
tion is downward there is a more se
date turn of mind, not unaccompanied
with gloom.—Detroit News.
TURTLES LIVE 400 YEARS
EVOLUTIONISTS CAN TELL US
NOTHING OF THEIR ORIGIN.
Some That Weigh a Ton —Facts About
Only Animal Who Needs No Strong
Backbone—Well Developed Senses,
Theirs—Eggs Hatch by Themselves.
A turtle, waddling his solitary way
along some water course, attracts lit
tle interest outside of his clumsy, gro
tesque shape, yet few who look upon
him are able to give, off hand, even a
bare half dozen facts about this hum
ble creature. And if they could give
any, their information would be limit
ed to two or three usages his body is
put to—soup and mandolin picks—
also combs.
There are about two hundred differ
ent kinds of turtles, and they live in
all parts of the world, except in very
cold countries. Australia has the few
est, and North and Central America
the greatest number of species. Evo
lutionists can tell us nothing of their
origin, for as far back in geological
ages as they are found fossil (a mat
ter of a little over ten million years),
all are true turtles, not half turtles
and half something el3e. Crocodiles
and alligators, with their hard, leath
ery coats, come as near to them as
any living creature, and when we see
a huge snapping turtle come out of the
water, and walk about on land we can
not but be reminded of the feiiow with
the armourer back.
Turtles are found on the sea and on
the land, the marine forms deserving
the name of turtles, more properly;
tortoises being those living on land or
in fresh water, but we will use the
name, turtles, as significant of the
whole class. The most natural way of
classifying these cieatures is by the
way the head and neck are drawn
back under the shell; whether the
head is turned to one side, or drawn
straight back, bending the neck into a
letter S shape.
The skull of the turtle is massive,
and some have thick false roofs on top
of the usual brain box.
The "house" or shell of a turtle is
made up of separate pieces of bone, a
central row along the back, and others
arranged around on both sides. These
are really pieces of the skin of the
back changed to bone. Our ribs are
directly under the skin of the back,
and if this skin should harden into a
bonelike substance, the ribs would lie
flat against it, and this is the case
with the ribs of turtles. So when we
marvel that the ribs of a turtle are on
the outside of its body, a second
thought will show that this is just as
true of us as of these reptiles.
This hardening of the skin has
brought about some interesting chang
es in the body of the turtle. In all the
higher animals from fishes up to man
a backbone is of the greatest impor
tance, not only to carry the nerves and
blood vessels, but to support the en
tire body. In turtles alone the string
of vertebrae Is unnecessary, the shell
giving all the support needed. So as
nature seldom allows unused tissues
or organs to remain, these bones along
the back become, in many species, re
duced to a mere thread.
The pieces of bone or horn which
go to make up the shell, although so
different in appearance from skin, yet
have the same life processes. Occa
sionally It moults or peels, the outer
part coming off In great flakes. Each
piece grows by the addition of rings
of horn at the Jtoints, and (like the
rings of a tree) the age of turtles, ex
cept very old ones, can be told by the
number of circles of horn on each
piece. The rings are very distinct in
species which live In temperate cli
mates. Here they are compelled to
hibernate during the winter, and this
cessation of growth marks the Inter
vals between each ring. In tropical
turtles the rings are absent or indis
tinct. It is to this modo of growth
that the spreading of initials which
are cut into the shell is due, just as
letters carved on the trunks of trees
in time broaden and bulge outward.
The shell has the power of regen
eration, and when a portion is torn
away or crushed the injured parts are
gradually cast off, and from the sur
rounding edges, a new covering of
horn grows out. One-third of the en
tire shell has been known to be thus
replaced.
Although so slow is their locomotion
and actions, turtles have well-devel
oped senses. They can see very dis
tinctly, and the power of smell is es
pecially acute, certain turtles being
very discriminating in the matter of
their good. They are very sensitive to
touch, and will react to the least tap
on their shell. Their hearing is more
imperfect, but as they have tiny pip
ing voices during the mating season,
this sense must be of some use.
Water tortoises can remain beneath
the surface for hours and even days,
at a time. In addition to the lungs,
there are two small sacs near the tail
which allow the animal to use the
oxygen in the water as an aid in
breathing.
All turtles lay eggs, the shells of
which are white and generally of a
parchment like character. They are de
posited in tho ground or in sand, and
hntch either by the warmth of the de
caying vegetation or the heat of the
sun. In temperate countries the eggs
remain over winter, and the little tur
tles do not emerge until spring. The
eggs of turtles are very good to eat,
and the oil contained in them is put
to many uses. Young turtles have a
hard time of it. in all the countries
they inhabit, for thousands are de
voured by storks, alligators and fishes.
Even old turtles have many enemies,
not the least curious being jaguars,
which watch for them, turn them on
their backs with a flip of the paw, anu
eat them at leisure.
Leathery turtles —which live in the
sea —have been reported weighing over
a ton. This species is very rare, and
a curious circumstance is that only
large adults or very small baby indi
viduals have been teen, the turtles of
all intermediate growths keeping out
of view in the great ocean.
Snapping turtles are among the
fiercest creatures in the world. Their
first instinct on leaving the egg is to
open their mouths and bite at some
thing. They feed on almost anything,
but when in captivity they sometimes
refuse to eat, and have been known to
go a year without food, showing no
apparent ill effects. One method
which they employ in capturing food
is interesting. A snapping turtle will
lie quietly at the bottom of a pond or
lake, looking like an old water-soaked
log with a branch—its head and neck
—sticking up at one end. From the
tip of the tongue, the creatures ex
trudes two small Aliments of a pinkish
color, which wriggle about and bear a
perfect resemblance to the small round
worms of which fishes are so fond.
Fishes are attracted by these, swim up
to grasp the squirming objects and are
engulfed in the cruel mouth of the
angler. Certain marine turtles havo
long-fringed appendages on the head
and neck, which they wave about and
thus make to servo a similar purpose.
The edible terrapin has become very
scarce in places, so that thousands of
them are kept and bred in enclosed
areas or "crawls" as they are called.
This species has a great deal of curi
osity, and if often captured by being
attracted by some unusual sound.
The tortoise-shell of commerce is ob
tained from the shell of the hawksbill
turtle, the plates of which being very
thin, are heated and welded together
until of the required thickness. The
age to which turtles attain has often
been exaggerated, but they are certain
ly the longest lived of all living crea
tures. Individuals from the Galapa
gos islands are estimated to be over
four hundred years of age.—Uncas in
the New York Post.
NATURAL BENT.
The Last Estate of One Who in Yiuth
Was a Mathematical Prodigy.
"Speaking of his idea of catering
to the natural bent of the child re
minds me of a rather curious in
stance which has come under my ob
servation," said a man who was in a
reminiscent mood, "and it goes to
show that you cannot always tell just
what the bent may be in a particular
child.
"Back in my school days—l was
living in the country at the time —I
had an acquaintance in the school
room who was exceptionally bright in
mathematics. Mathematics was an
open book to him. lie took to the
study like a duck takes to water, and
things which would often stump all
of his classmates wer as plain to him
as the nose on a man's face. He was
a wonder, and the natural dulness
and stupidity which I displayed at the
time in the study caused me to mar
vel at the boy's talent. He was a sort
of rural sensation, and his friends
made high predictions for him. Ho
could Juggle with figures until he
made you dizzy with wonderment.
His friend said he would be in the leg
islature by the time he was 21 years
old, and by the time ho was 25 he
would be a member of the national
congress from his district, and at 35
he would certainly be in the United
States senate.
"There was no question about the
boy's future. It was as bright as a
May morning. In the meantime he
kept humoring his bent for mathema
tics and he attained great proficiency
in the science. I drifted out into the
world and lost sight of all my old
friends. More than 20 years after
wards I dropped back to the scenes
of my boyhood days. The first fellow
I t!iought of was the brilliant young
mathematician. I scanned all the pa
pers of the section from time to time
as I could get them, expecting to see
that my old friend was doing big
things in the world. I found no men
tion of him and concluded that he
was dead.
"One day I was walking along the
road toward my old home place when
I came upon a man driving an ox
team. The steers looked more like
jackrabblts than oxen, and the driver
was a typical countryman, 'sunburned,
with a red handkerchief tied around
his neck, a broad-brimmed hat on his
head, brogan shoes, and other things
in keeping. He asked me if I didn't
want to ride. I thanked him and
crawled up on the tongue with him.
Ho was a red-headed fellow with a
stubby, sandy beard all over his face,
and an Adam's apple that worked up
and down like a pump when he
talked. He held in his hand a long
whip fastened to a long, willowy han
dle, the kind generally used in driving
oxen. Directly a horsefly landed be
tween the horns of one of the steers.
With unerring accuracy, after swing
ing the long whip around his lioad
once, he struck the fly with the crack
er of the whip and killed it. "That
makes 104," he said proudly as the
fly rolled off in the road. There was
my mathematician, and no mistake. I
afterward told him who I was and we
talked over old times. So you can't
always tell about this thing we call
the natural bent." —New Orleans
Times-Democrat.
" ' f
Quite Stuck Up.
"They thought he was dead, you
know, and all the papers printed obit
uary notices."
"And then?"
"Why then he turned up, and since
he's read those notices he's too proud
to speak to any one."-—Chicago Post
HOPE.
There ore flsh In the sea good as ever wore
caught,
There nrtt flsh to be lost good as ever were
sighed about,
There are flsh you can buy good as over
were bought,
Theie are flsh that have never yet even
beon Jie.l about.
—Sam S. StfnsoD, in Lippincott's.
HUMOROUS. .
Delia—What did you tall out about?
Celia—Why, we hadn't been engaged
a week before he quit buying boxes,
and brought mo candy iu a paper bag.
Maude—Oh, Gertie, what a lovely
engagement ring! How I envy you!
Gertie—You needn't, dear. When it
comes to the point, I've either got to
marry him or give it back.
"My brother Jaltey's got a good
job." "Where's he working?" "Down
to the electric light plant." "Picking
currents off the wires?" "Yes, how did
you guess?" He says he likes the job,
it's such light work.
The deaf and dumb lovers were bill
ing and cooing with their fingers. 1
"How much do you love me?" she sig
nalled. "More than tongue can tell,"
he replied, glibly. And they were su
premely happy. It
Wigg—What an awkward chap Sub
bubs is. He doesn't seem to know what
to do with his hands. Wagg—No,
only when he's going home with his
usual assortment of bundles.
Husband (irritably)—lt isn't a year
since you said you believed our mar
riage was made in heaven, and yet
you order me around as if I wasn't
anybody. Wife (calmly)— Order is
heaven's first law.
Subbubs—We've got a new girl at
our house. Backlots —Hah! It's easy
enough to get a new girl, but can you
keep her? Subbubs—The doctor
thinks so. He declares sho weighs
nine pounds at least.
"I wouldn't marry you, sir, if you
were the last man on earth," said Miss
Diehl. "But as lam not the last man
on earth and can't expect to be, I sup- / ,
pose you will accept me," said Cholly \
Nervy with calm assurance.
Mrs. Smith—Did you ever notice
what away Mr. S'lyder has of looking
in another direction when a lady is
standing in the street car? Mrs.
Black—l don't know that I have; but
I have noticed him do it in church
when the contribution box came along.
"What was that noise, Katie?"
shouted the lady from her boudoir.
"Oh, mum, it was only the baby crawl
ing under the piano, and he hit him
self, mum," replied the girl. "Dear
little boy! Did he hurt himself, Ka
tie?" "No, mum; sure it was the soft
pedal he hit, mum."
"But, mamma," protested Miss Bul
yon, "why are you sending out invi
tations for a diamond weuuing? You
haven't been married nearly long
enough for that:" "What's that gotA
to do with it?" demanded Mrs. Bulyofuy
"Your father's financial standing would
make anything less than a diamond
wedding absurd."
Mrs. Nextdoor —Your daughter has
improved wonderfully in her piano
playing. Mrs. Homer—l'm glad to
hear you say so—if you are really sin
cere. Mrs. Nextdoor —Why, what do
you mean? Mrs. Homer —Well, you
see, we didn't know whether she was
improving, or whether we were merely
getting used to it.
Mrs. Briggs—Have you heard the
news? Mrs. Spelter died quite sud
denly last evening. Mrs. Griggs—You
don't mean it? Oh, dear, I'm so sorry!
There's one tiling, however; I shan't
have, to pay her the call I owed her. I
suppose I'm the worst person that ever
was to pay calls.
Madge—Whom did you meet at Mrs.
Climber's party? Ethy—A lot of lm-,jJ
possible people that nobody knows. I r
had to talk to myself to keep from be
ing lonesome.
Mrs. Youngman—But when he did
finally come home, I should think
'you'd havo been sufficiently curious at
least to ask what had kopt him out so
late. Mrs. Klubman —Yes, but I had
surfeited myself with fiction while I
waited up for him.
"And let's have plenty of palms,"
said Mr. Cumrox. "That is a very
good suggestion," answered his wife.
"I'm glad to see that your taste is so
good. I'm very fond of palms." "Yes;
they're useful as well as ornamental.
There's nothing handier than a good
big bunch of palms to go to sleep be
hind during a musicale."
Her Name Was Enough.
"I heard an amusing story the other*
day," writes a correspondent, "from a
lady who lias been often a guest at V?
Viceregal lodge, Simla. It was on the r
occasion of one of the first dinner par
ties gtven by I>ord Curzon on his tak
ing over the reins of government. My
friend's partner was a certain major
of gunners —a man unaware of Lady
Curzon's, and, hence, of the Misses
Leiters' nationality. While engaged ,
in conversation with Miss Daisy
Letter —who was seated opposite htm
—the talk turned en America, a sub
ject on which Miss Leiter was natural
ly well informed. So, evidently,
thought the gallant officer, for, pres
ently, ho said: 'I gather from what you
say, that you know America pretty
well —havo traveled there, perhaps?'
"Miss Leiter regarded him some
what curiously for a moment and then, .
leaning forward, remarked:
" 'Well, I guess! My name's Lcit- f
er!' M. A. P.
How to Find Out.
You can always find out what gos
sips are saying about you to other
people by listening to what they say
about other people to you.—New York
Press.