OLD-TIE FAVORITE LONG AGO. By JBugaue Field. I once knew all the birds that came And nestled in our orchard trees; For every flower I had a name— Mr friends were woodfchucks, toads and bees; I knew where thrived in yonder glen , M hat plants would soothe a ytvao- i bruised toe— Oh, I was very learned then— i liut that was very long ago. J I knew the spot upon the hill Where checkerberries could be found; ] I l.ngw the rushes near the mill, j Where pickerel lay that weighed a pound! I knew the wood—the very tree — Where lived the poaching, saucy crow, A'- I all the woods and crows knew me— Hut that was very long ago. A- 1, pining for the jovg of youth, tread tho old familiar spot, Opiv to learn the solemn truth; ! have forgotten, am forgot. ot here's this youngster at my knee Knows all the things I used to know; T think 1 once was wise as ho— But that was very long ago. 1 '"'oir it's folly to complain ' ' whatsoe'er the fates decree; j were not wishes all in vain. ' ted you what my wish should be; '' ' v '-h to be a boy again, h'.eS: with tho friends 1 used to know; ! v- 1 was. oh! so happy then— But that was very long ago. i ABIGAIL SiLOVER'S | I ViSiTOSS. I $ By Hattie E. Brigrfs. £ .... 2 £ £ t I 7 HEBE Is nothing I dislike I i any more, my daughter, )[ than to go away from tho "2" place to-day and leave you and tho children alone," said Farmer Silovcr, of he disposed of his powder fla.tk and. took down liis rifle from the side of the kitchen wall. "Oh! never mind lis, daddy," said Abigail, cheerfully. "Of course it will be lonesome with you and mother both gone, but we'll be safe enough. Don't Worry one bit about us." "I atn not so sure about it lx?fmg safe," replied her father. "Tho In dians are none too friendly nowadays, and thej r are getting more restless cadh week. Even old Nakomis, Who liat always been on good terms with the settlers,-avoided me a day or two ago when I went across tlie clearing, and I'm afraid it all means trouble to the whites." "But, father," went on Abigail, "Mr. Grey and all the other neighbors have been so kind when you needed help that you can't stay away to-day when they arc to finish putting up the house With this day's work. You know I'm on pretty good terms with our red neighbors. "Why," she added, laugh ingly, "I can even talk a littlo In dian." "Not enough to save you, if thero was an uprising, I fear," unswayed the father. "However, It is a com Hurt to me that you can handle your gun. And in case anything happens, fire it four times and we will be sure to hear it, nrs the air is very clear, and the distance so short, through the woods. That is one good thing about our set tlement," he added, "the houses are not far apart and we are a protection to one another, if trouble arises." "Now, daddy," laughed Abigail, "stop looking for trouble. I have so much to do to-day. You will be home before I'm lmlf ready for you, and now, sir," she said, looking at him narrowly, do you suppose we are going to have for supper to-yight? I'll give you one guess. You can't? Then I'll toll. Mush!" she cried witli a merry peal of laughter. "You just forget that we have had that treat every evening for the past seven months, and imagine we are back East, having all kinds of good things." •• "Good-bye, daughter, don't lot tho children go outside and play," admon ished the father, Ills heart titled with forebodings, as lie left his log cabin md started toward the unfinished home of his neighbor, a quarter of a mile distant through the forest. Jonathan Silover, in company with il small parly of Easterners, their wives anil children, had come info the wil derness of Michigan seven months be fore this, in the hope of founding | homes in what was then the furthest point of the known West. After months | of hardship and toil, the last house was ' to be finished on this day. anil on the morrow corn was to lie planted in tho small patches vliicli these brave men bad been able to clear. "Now, children," said the older sister, after watching tho father well out of sight, "if you see an Indian coming to day, I want you botli to hide as fast as your feet will take you. If I see them first," nlie went on, with her arms about the small brother, "I'll rap on the fire-place three times, and liven you are to get out of eight as soou as possible. Don't go out of doors once, for wo must stay closo together all day." And with a few more In structions, she was soon about her ■work, trying to forget the dangers of hostile Indians. • The day wore on, ar.d when the sun Indicated that tho time was drawing on for the father to return, Abigail got out the kettles, hung them on-the crane and put on the water to heat for the mush. The appearance of that article on the table usually called forth eoine laughing remark from the East ern-bred girl, who was making a brave effort to be happy in a wilderness. Just as the water commenced to bub ble, three sharp blows wore struck upon the hearth, and at the same in stant t lie little frightened forms dropped Into the hole under tho fioor, which was reserved for times of such peril, and the loose plank was quietly put Into place. The next moment a tall Indian, whose quick eye only saw a young girl quietly dropping liundfuls of yellow meal into the hoiling water, appeared at the door. A nod was ex changed between the girl and the chigftain, whose entrance was followed by another and another, until six In dians stood in the room, eaeh with painted face and decked in the trap pings of war. The silence was un broken for several minutdes, save for the steady movements of the iron spoon, which was grasped in Abigail's quivering lingers. At length Nuknurls, who had hlthesto heJd himself frionfiljr toward the whites, advanced a atop and said In a heavy, guttural tonc, "White man home? Nakomis would have speech with him." Naltomls spoke a littlo English, and had tanght Abigail the few Indian words she knew. "My father," replied tho young girl, looking the brave straight in the face, "is not far off. lie will bo here in a moment What do you want with him?" "No teß little white face," returned the man, leering at her, "she 'frnid. She big coward. White man coward. White man go," and lie added wick edly, "I kill him. Injun get all white man's scalp," and going toward Hie girl, with his crnel eyes upon her face, lie laid one hand on his tomahawk and stretched the other toward her. With a wild cry, born of the despera tion of the moment. Abigail Snorer raised tho spoon filled with boiling mush, and as the Indb.n almost bad her In his grasp, she dashed it full into his f/wnw AM lie turned wltli a howl of rage and pain, she grabbed an iron cllppe? from its nail at the side of the lioarth, filled it with the porridge and flnng it at tho rod man's neck and head as he fled through the door. Tho other Indians attempted to stop the now in furiated gtrl, who knew she was fight ing for her life, but as each turned toward her ho received the scolding mush full In his eyas, and In a few seconds the Last one of the six left the door of the cabin, smarting with pain and rage, tho contents of the kettle b*- ing about evenly distributed over the IxMlies of the half dozen Chippewae. Igiter on one was known to have died from the results of hla burns. When Jonathan Silover returned to his homo, accompanied by his neigh bors, hi response to the tour shots from the rifle, Abigail was lifting ho: litti# brothers out of their places erf nefiKy, and as she sank limply into her fath er's arms, she said with uu attempt at her old'gaiety, "Daddy, we can't hare any mush for supper," This incident happened twenty from where Detroit now i; and by the ppot where the Silovor cabin then etood, an electric oar swoeps through the country-—-Detroit Froo Press. Old trnßdilw a Ilaaton Iliiati now entire* tlie Constitution, finished in 1T97, was a home-made ves sel, and therelh a typical product, Mr. . H. A. Hill has pointed out In his Mon ograph on Boston commerce: "Paul Revere furnishi'd tlie coppsr, holts aud spikes, drawn from malleable cop per by a process than now, and Ephraim ThaycV, who had a shop at the SouMi End. made the gun oartrU-eos for the frigate. Her sails were mads In the Granarj bulldlug at ths oornes of Park and Tromont streets. Mo other huUdlng in Boston was large enough for the purpose. Thero were then fourteen rope-walks tu Boston, so that there eould be no difficulty In ob taining cordage, and thero wag an In. corpointed company for the manufac ture of sail cloth, whose factory was on the cornerVf Fremont and lloylv ton streets, and which was encouraged by a bounty on Its product front the General Court This product had In creased to 80,000 or 90,000 yards per annum, and Is said to have competed successfully with the duck brought from abroad. The anchors came from Ilanover In Plymouth County, and a portion of the timber used In what was then looked upon ns a mammoth ves sel was taken from the woods of Al lenstown, on the borders of the Morrl ntac, fifty miles away. Atlantic Monthly. A .Ship on Shore, Mensn, n uativo African, who accom panied Mr. A. It. Freeman ou liia jour imy through aud Jaman, scorned to regard all the hardship* aud discomforts the party encountered as a joke. Me had once been a laborer ou a steamer, aud was very found of personating a ship, to the amusement of the othar carriers. Mr. Freeman describes this joyous African as foi lows: As he sat on the ground tjovourtog * plantain lie would Inform the as sembled company Hint he was taking in cargo; then he would sit for a while and get up steam, and when the bugle sounded the advance he would rise and take up his load and start himself with a great ringing Of imaginary bells and loudly spoken orders to go full speed ahead, and finally trudge off with hli machinery clanking and his propeller thumping an imaginary sea. When we waded across the streams he usually took soundings with hia feet, and announced the depth by ! shouting in genuine nautical style: | "And n half-live," or whatever he con i gidered the depth to be; and once, l when he slipped over head and ear* Into u swamp, he emerged dripping and grinning, bawling, "No sound ings!"— Youth's Companion* Noted Shakeftpoaro Folio Defaced. A Shakespearian student in the Ber lin lloyal Library has discovered thai the unique copy of the famous 1623 I First Folio, which the Emperor WII - 11am I. presented to the library, has ] boon completely mutilated by a care* 1 loss or malicious reader. The whole of ; "Tke Comedy of Errors" has been cul out. It Is believed that the loss is lrre* : placcable, as the remaining copies ; the First Folio are in private bands. JI piock 0 ! L 1 i \WVentGre. I p UADH 11RATK RESCUE. THH steaks at Police Ileadqnar tete psite another mark against tee ueiu. of Patrolman Mich ael J. •ejue, of tire Datencey Street Station, aad tela added to one of tho eddeet vecurde on their books. Coyne Is at Gouvoucur Koepltel, end tho physicians eay that ho will proba bly develop pneumonia, itls coudltlon Is tho result of a hard fight he had In khc East River to savo a man who had tumbled off the pier. The struggle lasted half an hour and the pair Were picked up when they were nearly ex hausted. While the patrolman Is in a serious condition, the man he saved Is none tho worse for his ducking. Coyne was at the foot of Corlears street at 11 o'clock thinking hard over the fines that had been Imposed upon him for all aorta of hreacbos of disci pline. Suddenly there came a cry for help from the end of the pier, and the pelleeman rushed ever. He was In full uniform, aad oe It was wet he wore his big rubber boots and overcoat. Through the darkness Coyne could see a man struggliag In tho swirl of the euweut, whieb at teat point runs like a m(M rece. tetekeut stopping for a moment, lis tkivw away his hat and his clnt and Jumped in. A few strokes and the polleemsn was sp to the drowning man slid had him by the collar. The man turned and caught Coyne aauutul the nock with a death grip. Coyne struck him on the Jaw and the hold was broken. Then ho twisted hie arms behind his back and held him thus. By tills time tb swing of the tide had carried both men a hundred yards from the plar and over toward the. Cob Dock In tlis Bsouklyn Navy Yard. Coyne up to that time had thought that he was safe with his man, but us the current bora him out ho saw that he was in grure danger and begun to yell himself. His arise weru heard by two policemen from his own station, Will iam 11. Coritor and John T. McQueeuey. The two nan to ths Jackson •treat, whers old Andy Coimley has his life saving station. Ths two pollcameu mit tbo painter of a boat and Jumpad in. They hud nothing to guide thaw but ths sries of the men that oanie through the dark ness. Coyne was bunking against ths tide, slid by this lluie was near the Brooklyn side. Tts cuiTeat swept the boat away from him.and before Corker and McQuscacy knew it they were not far away from ths Brooklyn shot's. Than they roUumad and after what seemed an ug-t, picked up Coyne and his man, both of whom wors almost senseless. The two wera dragged Into the boat and before the craft was stnrted for the Manhattan aids first aUI to the In jured was adininlatarsd to Coyne and the man ha saved. When they got ashore an a utbalance was summoned tram Gouvernnmr Hospital. Thar* the man said lis was Jobs Harklns, a la borer, and that ha Ureal whersrsr hs asuld bang ugi bin hat. He had baas drinking, hs a*fcl, and feJl off ths ■tringpicce of fee plar while ho slept. A few minutes after hs was put to bed in the hospital ho was sleeping sound ly, as though nothing had happened. It was not so with Coyne. The po liceman hud taksn some water into Ills lungs and seemed sure that ho would hare a bud case of pneumonia. When told of the probable outcome of his brave act he only said, "Well, let it come." After that he remarked that If the men on a Roosevelt street ferry boat and Pennsylvania Railroad tug had only heeded his cries he would have been picked up sooner. Coyne has a unique record. lie has been fined time and again for violations of the rules, and has to ills credit a list of rescues that lias few equals. Devery fined him fifteen days onoe and called him a "bum" and a "loafor." A few days Inter Coyne, at the risk of Ills life, saved a woman and four children from a burning house ou Hester street. He was up on charges again after that, nd Devery, after looking him over srltleHly, said that ho would "ferglt Hie breaking end of the game." Men who know him said feat after his feat •f last night Csyns was ahigit due to get into troubls again.—New York Bun. HEROINS OF THE PLAINS. The Lodge Pols Creek Valley, to fee vicinity where ths ereek crosses fee Wyoming-Nebraska State lies, has a heroine and she is Gertrude, the feir teen-yoar-old daughter of the late John Groette and his wife, Gretehen. On the 18th seme the first wind and snow of tlio approaching blizzard, and Mr. Groette, foreseeing a big storm, started for an eutlyieg portion af Ills range to bring in a small bunch of his cattle. Trudchen, with a prophetic pre sentiment of Impending danger, almost frantically entreated hlin not to go, but the father Unfiled at her "feollsh feminine frnre," and left the raneh on his fatal Jeurney. "Good-by, daugh ter," he eheetily celled. "We will men be together again." "Gsed-by, deer father," replied the weepleg girl. "We will never meet again ezeept In* heaven." The day of the 18th elosed essid sweeping wind and driven snow. Night same on tempest wings and with the morning sf the Ifltb tho terrific bliz zard was at Its height Drearily, wearily, the day drew to a elose and then, as the shades of falling night thickened the sombre shadows of the swirling storm, there came rider less to the ranch door her father's horse. Iler prophetic fears were real ized—her father was perishing In the snow and help nnd rescue must he sought. The horse had lost his bridle and there was no other at the ranch. Hast ily tearing into strips a pieeo of stout cloth, Trudehen wove together a rough headstall for the animal, with similar reins, and springing Into her father's empty saddle she fearlessly urged the horse Into the double darkness and dan ger of the blizzard and the night. She know that a ranch lay six miles distant and In the direct outward track of the storm. Keeping the wind, there fore, full at her back, she, desperate, but not despairing, pressed forward upon liar terrible ride. Now plunging and reeling, now stumbling, staggering and falling, now down and now up, snow-submerged end blhiaard-beaten, the gallant girl nnd the brave brute struggled onward, until, dim through the densely driven snow, shono the lights of the saving ranch, the ranch to reach which so rueny dangers had been dared, so much eutferliSg sustained. Kindly hands and commiserating hearts eared for Trudehen the rest of that -night and In the early dawn of next morning the heroic child rodo amid the foremost of those who volun teered to senreli for her father. Tlio blizzard, however, still raged and the enow heaps still grew, the quest prov ing fruitless for that day. All hope of Mr. Groette's surviving the storm was now abandoned, and the next search was made for his body, which was finally found, ice shrouded end snow-eotilned.—Denver Times. CnARGED BY AN ELEPHANT. An elephant fight, If the combatants be well matched, frequently lasts for a dny or more. The beaten elephant retreats temporarily, and Is followed leisurely by the other, until by mutual consent they moot again. The more powerful elephant oceaslonnlly keeps his foe in view till he kills him. In "Wild Beasts of India" G. P. Sander son describes an encounter with a de feated tußker: A shrill trumpeting nnd crashing of bamboos broke the stillness, and from tho noise we knew It was a tusker fight. Before we could reach the scene of combat, one elephant uttered a dodj) roar of pain, nnd crossed the mullah some forty yards in aua'anco of us. Here he began to destroy a clump of bamboo In sheer fury, grumbling deep ly the while in rage and pain. Ufood was streaming from a deep wouiul in his left side, high up. lie was a taUily large elephant with long and ftprly thick tusks. Ills opponent must have ■ besa a Goliath to have worsted Urn. This tuslcur presented a picture of rags and power as he mowed the ham boos down with trunk and tusks<and trampled thorn with his forefeet. Suddenly his whole demeqnor changed. He hacked from the slump and stood like a statue. He had scent ed us. The next moment fovward went his ears and up went his tall, and 111 the same Instant he wheeled and boro straight down upon us with as tonishing speed. The bamboos behind which we stood were useless as cover, nnd I stopped out Into the open to get a clear njiot. I gate a shout, hoping to step or tura him, hut In vain. I fired when ha was sine paces distant, feeling on teleutof the Bliot, but I made & mistake In not giving him troth barrels. The aso aire momentarily obscured the ele phant, aad I bent down to see whore he lay- Good gracious! He had not eyen been sharked, and was upon me! Tlioro was no timo to step tcf the right or tlve left. His tusks came through tho smoke Uko tile cowcatcher of a loco motive, and I had just time to fall fiat to avoid being hurled along In front of lilm. I fell n little to the right; the noxt Instant down came his pon derous forefoot within a few Inches of my left thigh, and I should have been trodden on had I not hastily drawn my leg back from the sprawling posi tion In which I falL As he rushed over me ho shrieked shrilly, but for tunately he went on, for had he stopped there was no way of escape for mo. I was covered with blood from the wound Inflicted by his late an. tagonlst Tills was one of the closest calls I over had In the wild life of tho Jungle. HAD FIGHT WITH BALD EAGLE. The carcass of a huge eagle, which measures more than seven feet from tip to tip, lias at Jobstown. N. J_ a trophy of a terrible fight which Lloyd Stewart and Frederick Obi, young men, had with the bird of freedom. The bird was seen by the young men on the outskirts ef the village, nnd they man aged to wound it. Unnble to fly, tho eagle showed fight, and snvagely at-t tacked Its tormentors. The young men were put on the defensive from tho start, and ft Is almost certain If either had been alone he would have boon killed. As It was, each Is covered with scratches and efits from the talons and beak of the bird. It pounded them with Its good wing and fought so sav agely that several times they deckled to give up the battle, but the eagle pouneed upon them with renewed en ergy and compelled them to fight on for their lives. With clubs and stones they fenght for an hour nnd finally managed to disable the huge bird, aud then Its death was easy. When the battle was crver Stewart and ©hi presented a picture of disas ter. They were covered with blood frem head to foot and their elothes were In tatters. They could hardly crawl to their homes, nnd had to look up a doctor to care for their wounds. Haw Trne Thin In. Lead a perfectly worthlesa life, do nothing but amuse yourself, and If yon complain bitterly of It, everyone will think you respectably serious, hut If you once allow It to be seen thnt you are content, why, then, your oldest friend comes to sec you, nnd will do nothing but scold you for you* frivol ity.— Llppkieott's Magazine. STHMUS OF TEHUANTEPEC. A Short Route For shqmirnts to tho For Bast* The completion cf the extensive port works at Coatzacoalcos, on the Gulf, nnd Salina Cruz on the Pacific side, connected by a well equipped railroad •cross the narrow Isthmus of Telinan tepee, promises to provide a short route for shipments to Pacific coast ports nnd the Far East that will be an Im portant factor long before the question of an Isthmus ennal Is settled. The co operation of tl>e Mexican Government In the building of this transcontinental line Is a satisfactory guarantee that the extensive undertaking will he car vied to a successful end. The location of a connection between tho great oceans is n question that does not af fect to any great degree shipping be tween North Atlantic and Southern Pa cific ports, hut when the saving In time between Atlantic and Gulf points anil Central and North American const cities and in shipments to Asia are considered the advantages of the north ern route are striking. From Panama to Salina Cruz the dis tance Is 1303 miles, which Is a dear saving for freight to northern ports shipped via Tchuantepec. The saving will be made upon all shipments to Central American ports, varying in Im portance from 454 miles to Junta Are nas, CoHta Blco, to 1002 miles to San Joss de Guatemala. From Salina Cruz to San Francisco the distance is only 21T0 miles, and shipments to the Orient will savo over 1000 miles by tho use of the Mexican rail transfer to the Pa cific la preference to going through a Panama canal. It 1B a fact not gener ally known that from New Orleans to San Francisco by the Mexican Isthmus It Is 100 miles shorter than liy the line of the Southern Pacific Railway. With such shipping facilities as It is Intend ed to establish Hie Mexican short cut across the backbone of the continent vylll doulslees divert much commerce from all-rail lines. It will from the start furnish an attractive route for tho growing export cotton trade of the Southern American States to the Orient and It will at once become a powerful factor In the development of Mexico's rich west coast. Modern Mexico. WISE WORDS, Lite's reals depend on religion's IdsaLi.— Main's Horn. Write it en your heart that every day Is the beet day of the year.—Emorsou. The rotqj to ruin is a down grade, not a,leap over a predplce.—United Prog fly terisn. Tits swee'tet music is not in orations, hut In the human voice when it speaks from its instant life tones of tender ness, truth and oourage.—Hiram Car sea. 'fe he everywhere and everything in sympathy and yut content to remalu where and what you are—is not tills to know both wisdom nnd virtue and to dwell wlth" , bupplness?— R. L. Steven sou, Nothing can lessen the dignity of hu manity so long as the religion of love, of unselfishness and of devotion en dures. and none can destroy tho altars of this faith for us so long as wo feel ourselves capable of love. Amlel's Journal. The greatest man Is he who chooses the right with Invincible resolution, who resists the sorest temptations from within and without, who hears the heaviest burdens cheerfully, who Is calmest In storms and most fearless under menace and frowns, whose re liance on truth, on virtue, on God is most unfaltering.—W. E. Cbannlng. It Is easier to see a fault lu another man's course than to perceive his good qualities, nence a man measures him self by his measure of others. The fault finder and the sneerer is common ly a small man. As a man approaches ereatness lie grows generous and gra cious. Not what he thinks of himself, hilt what he sees In others, shows what he really Is. It is wcil to have this truth In mind as we pass Judgment on our fallows.—Sunday-School Times. Th® Weaplng Willow. "Did you kiiow thnt all the weeping willows In this country are descended from a twig planted by tho stepson ol George Waelilngtun at his place at Abingdon, a few miles from Mount Verueu?" asked a tree-lover who has Just returned from th*e Interesting estates. "It wee this way: Yonng Custls, as a member of Washington's military family, sometimes carried messages, under a flag, between the belligerent commanders. In this ser vice he became acquainted with a young British officer, who, like others, had come over with the lmprqsslon that the 'rebellion' would speedily he •rushed out, and that he would then settle on tile confiscated lnnds of the rebels. He had even brought a twig from the weeping willow near Pope's! villa, at Twickenham, carefully wrapped In oiled silk. As his visions of a castle In America faded away he gaTe the twig to John Parke Custls, who, on his return to Abingdon in the spring, planted It near his house. It grew and flourished. Just how It mul tiplied may be noted from one end ol the country to the other."—Philadel phia Record. Ar*T*f.l F.rtl, 'A number of Parisians who were In the siege have decided to erect a monu ment to the memory of the pigeons that carried tile dlspatehes thnt kept up communication with the outside world. It wIU consist of a pedestal surmount ed by a bronze vase, on which will be cast a group of the birds thnt proved of such utility to the French. The committee includes the names ol mnny well-known literary nnd scien tific people. The gratitude comes some, what late, for after the war the pigeons In question were sold by auction and commemorated In pigeon pies. &h@ Funny Zfide of NOIUDIC to Itoimt Of. "I'm a self-made man," he proudly said To a cynic sore and grim. , / "And a mighty poor iob it was, 1 think, k The cynic said to aim. T —New York Bun. j BOTH PLEASED. "So they are really In love?" "Yes, indeed. Eacli of them regards the otlier'ns having been captured un der difficulties."—New York Sun. PROFESSIONAL COURTESIES. ( men do you suppose you have saved?" Old Lawyer—"How many innocent men do you suppose you have killed?" —New York Sun. NOT FOR TRANSPORTATION. "He says he keeps horses and a ear* j rlage." V "Perhaps he does, but the horses are all nightmares and the carriage Is tho 'stately carriage l mentioned in novels." —New York Sun. now SAD ! Mr. Wiggins—"lt tells hero how a cy clone out In America swept away an entlro town In one minute." Mrs. Wiggins (gloomily)—" Awl It takes Mary Ann half an hour to sweep the front steps."—JTit-Bitß. CLEARLY A NOVICE. ' "This author doesn't seem to have made his mark as yet?" "What makes j-ou think that?" "The picture doesn't Bhow hiin with an elbow on his desk and restiug his brow upon his hand, with a far-away, thoughtful look In his eyes."—Chicago , Ilecord-Herald. UNREASONABLE. "I dont believe that man ever de ceived anybody in his life," salA-tho enthusiastic friend. "And yet," said Senator "you want mo to give him employpiept. You don't suppose I have time to tjagch him the rudiments of the business, do you?"— Washington Star. A COMFORTING "Do you think that I am competent to fill this Government position?" said the conscientious man. "Don't have a moment's doubt," an swered the friend, who is rich in wond ly experience. "Anybody who is smart enough to get a political place nowa days is smart enough to till it."—Wash ington Star. ' AT THE BOOKSELLER'S. / "I don't doubt that the readin' of It's all right." said the customer, "hut it ain't the book I'm looking for—the cover don't suit in#." "My dear sir," said the bookseller, "will you kindly describe just the hook you're after?" "Well, to be plain with you, I want a bo4k that'll do to put in a handsome new house."—Atlanta Constitution. NO HARM DONE. My, yer dorg Just bit me,—" "Boa't take on so, my poor man. We were golm' t piaen that old dbg anyhow.*—-New York Journal. THE CHEERFUL IDIOT. "What," aßked the Cheerful Idiot, "?• the difference between a man wty.ls Irregular at bis work and the tall of a V wealthy man's carriage horse?" J "I ddn't know," wearily responded his vtettm. "Because," replied the Cheerful Idiot, without the slightest encourage ment, "one Is docked because it's Ab sent and the other is absent because it) Is docked—lla, bal"—Baltimore Aoier-l lean. '
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers