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. '