DRIFTING AWAY. I. I rea l in your bright eyes the dreams of life's day; But I'm drifting away from you—drifting I am drifting afar Prom life's storm and its star — And 1 would I could answer the prayers that you pray! But I'm drifting away, dear—l'm drifting away I n. I would strike from your life road the thorns that would slay; But I'm drifting away from you—drifting away! The sorrow—the pain You may strive with in vain, I would near: But I go: and I come not again— I'm drifting away, dear l'm drifting away! 111. \ ou must reap for yourself in life's winter and May; For I'm drifting away, dear—l'm drifting jiwny! I have given you bread And a shelter o'erhead: And may God light the lonely, long way you must tread— For I'm drifting away, dear—l'm drifting away! —F. L. Stanton, in the Atlanta Constitu tion. TH EI HIGHER LIFE i'llgn iiga AM n girl—or a woman, if h=b ltd you will; for I readily ad- J mit my twenty-five sum mere—of aspirations and Sial ISil ideals. I thank heaven that it is so, and that I am endowed with a lofty nature —a nature that soars above the potty details and sordid considerations of everyday ex istence, and seeks only to lead the higher life. To me a man's person and possessions are as nothing. I look only at his mind, his soul, which are his real self. The one mate possible for me is a man of beautiful, exalted miiul, of pure, sublime soul. He alone could ever be congenial to me. He alone could ever inspire my girlish love. Where may such a man be found? To find him Is the dream of my life. And I am not quite sure but I have already found him. I speak of Jack Hendleshnm. In the first place. Jack is a gentleman; and that, by it self, denotes some graces of mind. But he is much more. He lives by litera ture; and although he has not achieved any great work, yet many of the smaller tilings that he has done, both in prose and poetry, breathe in every line tlie true spirit of sublime senti ment and lofty imagination. Jack, of course, is poor. That is as it should be. Ilnvo not the great gen iuses of the world—the poets, painters and musicians—all started poor? Jack Rendiesham has always sought my society, recognizing in me, no doubt, a kindred mind. That ho loved ine, I coulil see from the first. And 1 also felt that I loved him. I used to picture myself in the capacity of Jack's wife, his inspiring help-meet, his con genial mate, his stimulating partner in tire higher life which we were botli resolved to lead. Our home should he a dear little cottage, covered with jasmine and woodbine, in the sweet retirement of some rural paradise. And he anil I should always lie together, alone with nature and nature's Creator. ' There eaine to live in my neighbor hood a young man named Blobbsworth. lie was on the Stock Exchange, and was making a great deal of money. This set me against him at oncc. Nor did his conversation at the out set give mo any cause to vary my opinion. It was gossipy, trifling, shal low. lie referred to no topic more elevating than tiie latest success at the West End theatres, nor to any sub ject more abstruse than motor cars and free-wheel bicycles. ' When I came to know him rather better, I found reason to modify, in some degree my former opinion. Little by little signs peeped out, trivial in themselves, but important as indica tors, which showed him to bo less ma terial than I hail originally supposed. At first, I could not believe it; but gradually, and somewhat against my will, the truth forced itself upon mo. This young stock broker, in spite of bis profession, in spite of ills wealth, in spite of his education, his bringing up. in spite of the sordid atmosphere which lie hail always been compelled to breathe—yet, in spite of all this, ho still had a mind; not, indeed, beautiful at present, but capable of becoming beautiful; still hail bidden away in Ills innermost bosom yearnings, long ings, vague aspirations towards the higher life. The more I reflected upon the matter, and the more I studied Mr. lllobbs wortb, the more I felt sure that in him I had found the bright ex ception. I was glad, and yet I was sorry for him, when I realized what a narrow cage indeed it was in which he found himself confined. This was only brought home to me when he asked mamma and me up one after noon to the house which he had re cently purchased in our neighborhood. When I saw the perfect appointments, the enervating luxury of it all, the lawns, the gardens, the greenhouses, the stables—when I noted the obsequi ous menials, the butler, footmen, gar deners and grooms who were every where at liis beelc and call, when I ex amined the gorgeous new billiard room he was just building, and the electric dynamo that he was just setting up for the lighting of his house—my heart ached for him. It was just at this time that Jack Bendlesham asked me to become his wife. If lie had asked me a few weeks sooner, before my mind had begun to regard things in the light of a larger Christian spirit; before I had begun to speculate so deeply upon the hidden mysteries of life and the vast problems of Providence; before I had begun to see that there are other and higher claims imposed upon us than those of mere self-satisfaction, I should unhes- Itatlngly have replied in the affirma tive. But now I paused. Was I justi fied? Was it right for me to accept the bliss for which my soul yearned, iD that dear little jasmine-woodbine-cov ered cottnge with the dear, congenial partner whom I so truly loved? Ahl how hard was it to resist the attrac tions of that rural Eden! Then followed for me the most trying week I have ever spent. It resolved Itself into a long, a hard, a bitter struggle between my own selfish longings as a woman, and the higher, larger, wider claims imposed upon me as a Christian. It was 4.45 on a Sunday afternoon, How well I remember the fateful day and hour! Mr. Blobbsworth had called and was drinking his second cup of tea. Just then Jessie, our parlor maid, came and summoned mamma from the draw, ing room on some domestic matter. I know not to this day what it was— whether the kitchen boiler had burst, whether the coals had suddenly run short; whether the cook had had a mis fortune and upset the afternoon's sup ply of milk, or what. It can have been nothing very momentous, else I should have heard all about it afterwards, which I never did. But the moment mamma had left the room, Mr. Blobbs worth put down ids second cup of tea, half-finished, and, coming acroßS, sat upon the sofa at my side. He snld something which surprised, startled, amazed me. "Indeed!" I cried, astonished and con fused. "I have never thought of you in that—that—way, Mr. Blobbsworth." "Because you have not dono so in the past there is no reason why you should not in the future," he insisted, taking my hand and holding it so fast that It was impossible, without gross rudeness, to withdraw it. "Will you?" he added, gazing Into my eyes with earnest entreaty. As I saw that appealing look, light in an instant broke upon me. The eyes were a man's eyes. But the call was the call of Providence, who, seel ing tliis poor fellow in distress—-seeing, moreover, that it was imposlblc for him to aspire to those altitudes alone—was commanding me to help him. I sighed as I thought of that sweet little cottage, for which my heart pined, with Jack—beloved, congenial Jack—for my helpmeet; which now, alas! I was never to see. I shuddered as I thought of that luxurious mansion, with all Its perfect appointments, Its lawns, gardeus, slu-übbcries, greenhouses. stables, with Its obsequious menials, butler, footmen, gardeners, coachmen and grooms; with that gorgeous billiard room, and that electric dynamo—all those material obstacles to the higher life, against which it was to be my life-long task to contend and to help my husband contend. But rrovidenec had spoken with such clearness—had indicated so plainly the non-carboniferous district to which I was to carry my coals—that to shut my cars to her voice would have been sheer impiety. So when Mr, Blobbsworth. repeating the question, said again: "Will you?" "Yes," was my humble answer, and I bowed my head—upon his shoulder in meek acquiescence. Philadelphia Telegraph. When Lnnce Stole Home. Connie Mack has an endless fund of baseball stories. One of these he tells about Bill Lange, the old Chicago player, asserting that Bill's play in a certain Pittsburg game was the most daring bit of work he ever saw pulled off. Bill had reached first. The pitcher threw to that sack, as Bill had taken a big lead. The ball rolled away from the first baseman only a few feet. Few players would have dared take tlieli feet off the sack, but Bill cut for sec ond. The ball went a bit wild there, rolling toward short. Never stopping at second. Bill tore for third and then turned for the plate. The bnll was fielded to Denny Lyons at third, but he was so surprised upon receiving it and finding -no man to touch at the sack, he failed to throw to the plate to get Lange. The game was won by that one run.—Detroit News Tribune. Two Child Stories. "Mother, I am tired; can't the bishop go to heaven now?" said a little girl, during one of Dr. Wlnnington Ingram's sermons. The authority for this beau tiful legend is the bishop of London himself. If bishops are allowed such anecdotal license, the mere layman cau hardly resist the temptation to report— or even to invent—stories of the kind. For Instance, there is the story of the little boy who' desired in his soul to be devoured by a lion. When asked why, he retorted, "Because, dear mother, the lion would think he had mo in his inside, while really I should be in heaven." The exalted no tion of deceiving the king of boasts was quite sufficiently alluring to coun terbalance the trifling inconvenience of martyrdom by mastication.—London News. • -i.^ llnflslan Commercial Schools. Commercial schools in Russin are founded by the state wherever they are thought to be necessary. The in itiative is always taken by commercial organisations—that is, chambers of commerce and similar bodies—the members of which have previously ex amined the question. Russian com mercial schools are state institutions and are under the control of the Min ister of Finance. Thero are forty-three commercial schools in the Russian em pire under the control of the state, and twenty private schools, similarly or ganised, with state supervision. HOW TO START A PHEASANTRY, These Pretty lllnls Cuu lie liaised in Small Places, The impression lias prevailed for I many years that the beautiful pheas ants of the old world would not thrive in a email place, and that it was diffi ■ cult in this country to breed them even on a large estate, but In recont years this theory has been disproved. I'lieas : ants of the most beautiful type have been raised on village lots with scaree ' ly any of the natural environments j which formerly were considered essen tial to their welfare. I In starting a pheasantry on a coun try place only the breeds which have proved that they can be easily reared should be purchased at first. A pheas antry must be supplied with outdoor and indoor quarters for the birds. A yard forty by fifty feet for a pair of the birds and a warm house fifteen feet square should be ample, although the larger tile roaming ground the better the birds will enjoy it. The outdoor inclosure must have a fence ten to twenty feet in height to prevent the birds from hopping over it, and a top covering of wire should be provided as a precaution. Many of the ordinary varieties of pheasants are no more difficult to raise tlinn fancy breeds of chickens. Their quarters are about the same and their food not much different. A home pheasantry and pigeon loft combined furnish a greater amount of profit and pleasure than where either one is built separately. The upper part of the house for the winter quarters should bo built with pigeon lofts where only the fancy pigeons are kept. The combination of the two in near by but separate iuclosures yields no end of gratification. The pigeons often will fly through the wires of the pheas antry and invade the quarters of the beautiful wild fowls, but neither will in any way interfere with or Injure the other. Their nesting and indoor whiter quarters, however, must be partitioned off, so that they can never disturb each other's peaceful home life. —Chicago Record-Herald. Pnshlne Back the Deiert. In the nineties a wave of population flowed westward over the great pin ins of the Missouri Valley. It was com posed of farmers who tried to raise crops by natural rainfall in the old fashioned way. The attempt was a failure west of the middle of Kansas, Nebraska and the Dakotas, and the wave receded, leaving ruin In its track. Now, as Mr. Chnrles Moreau Herger shows in the Review of Reviews, there is a hopeful attempt to push back the arid line by scientific methods. Of course irrigation will permanently con quer the desert, but oven without irri gation it has been shown that new methods of cultivation will turn a semi arid into a productive region. A South Dakota farmer, Mr. H. W. Campbell, has Introduced the plan of very deep plowing, packing the bottom of the furrow with specially construct cd implements and thoroughly culti vating the surface. In this way the moisture that falls is preserved just where the roots of the plant can get at It. Mr. Campbell lias raised 14:2 bushels of potntoes an acre where the crops of his neighbors were failures. There are certain crops, moreover, such as alfalfa, sorghum and Kaffir corn, which do not require much rain fall. By the use of these and the new methods of cultivation this arid land is being steadily pushed back, anil every mile it recedes means the addition of 040,000 acres to the fertile land of the West. ' Importance of Accurate Watcho*. "That time is money is an old adage, but It has been brought strictly up to date by the railroad men, who say that time is 'life and money,' " said a jeweler of Boston at the New Williard. "I do a large railroad trade in watches, and from statistics kept it Is shown that since 1808 the railroad wrecks have been reduced one-third because the men were equipped with accurate timepieces. In other words, one-third of the wrecks bafore 1898 were caused by variation in the time of watches carried by the different men in the ser vice of the companies. Under the sys tem now in force on practically every railroad in the country the engineer, the train crew, including the brake man, baggageman and flagman, as well as the train dispatchers and train masters, must be provided one and all with watches that will not vary thirty seconds from standard time. Every week every man in the service carrying a watch must have it inspected in or der that it may be known that it is ac curate and in good condition, under penalty of discharge." Washington Star. "Silk" That Is Itcnlly Tin. Of course British critics say that the practice of adulterating silk with tin originated in Germany. At any rate it is common enough now. All silk is mixed with more or less foreign matter to give it weight and stability. Vegetable substances were formerly used for the purpose. In dye ing silk the necessary boiling reduces Its weight about one-fourth, taking out the natural gummy substances. The weight is sometimes restored with tan nic acid; tin is more common-most of all in cheap black silks. Very soft "wash" silks are npt to bo pure. Burn a scrap and nothing re mains but ash. A tin-weighted scrap, when carefully burned, leaves a resi duum like excessively fine wlro gauze. Sealing' Wax a Stninpn. The Amir of Afghanistan having de termined that the postage stamps man ufactured during the reign of his fa ther should be used up, no new ones have as yet been Issued. The entire stock has now been exhausted, and, pending the acceptance of a new de sign, sealing-wax, impressed with the official stamp, is being used. oThe Funny of Life. ALWAYS LUCKY. A jolly fisherman was he, As jolly as you'll ever find; While some cauelit big ones in the sea. He caught still bigger in his mind. —Washington Star. CONUNDRUM" ANSWERED. A teacher once asked a class of little folks where wool came from to make so many useful things. "I know," piped Frederick; "from wolves!" BAD TERMS. Walling—"Bogert and Appleton are not on speaking terms, are they?" Nelson—"Well, yes; but they don't use very good terms, I'm afraid."— New York Herald. GRATITUDE. Mr. Fish—"Thanks, old man."—New York Sun. NOT IN HIS LIST. "Our son seems to be goln' right in for culture," said Mrs. CorntosseL "Yes," answered her husband in a tone of Blight disappointment; "every kind except agriculture."—Washington Star. PAINFUL EXPOSURE. Richard—"Uneducated people often have a lot of insight" Robert—"That Is so; our new maid knows that she is a better cool: than we've been used to."—Detroit Free Press, CONSIDERATIONS. "You must not forget that there are millions of people whose interests are at stake." "Yes," answered Senator Sorghum, "and millions of dollars, too."—Wash ington Star. AILMENT. "I settled that fellow's hash for him." "Was he mad, doctor?" "No; that's what ho wanted mc to do. He was suffering from Indiges tion."—New York Herald. A SUBJECT FOB DEBATE. "You know ho married Miss Mil lions." "And they do not get along?" "No. They can't agree about what portion of the wife's Income the hus band ought to have."—Puck. A DRAW. "Diplomacy is a curious game," said one statesman. "It is," answered the other; "it is one in which tlio most satisfactory results are achieved when both sides can go home and claim a victory."—Washing ton Star. CAN'T HELP TIIAT. Street Car Magnate—"You patrons are a mighty narrow lot, I must say." Patrbn—"How can we help it? Wo were broad enough until we wcro pressed into our present width by being jammed into those human sardinerles." —baltimore American. • BUSINESS. Merchant—"Did you find out what that gentleman wanted?" New clerk—'"No, but I found ouf What he didn't want " Merchant—What? How dare you " New Clerk—"And I sold It to him."— Catholic Standard and Times. THOSE TALL GIRLS. yon has broadened me greatly." Bwcet Kathleen—"lt hasn't length ened you out any, has it, ChollyV"— New York Times. HIS RIGHT TO A MEAL. "Don't you think It's unwise," said the first partisan, "to be so sanguine about your candidate?" "All right," retorted the other, "Just wait till after election and then I'll have a right to crow." "That's what you will, but I don'tj think you'll cure to eat all you'll have a right to."—Philadelphia Press. ABOUT AMERICAN RAILWAYS. riloy Would Girdle the Earth Eight Times at the Equntor. It lias occurred to the Booklover's Magazine to calculate, among other things about our American railways, that "on an average a passenger trav els three and a half millions of miles before he is injured and sixty-one and a half millions of miles before he is killed. The average traveler could journey sixty miles an hour, ttventy four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-live days in the year for 120 years before, according to the law of prob abilities, ho would be killed iu an accident on an American railway." In view of the lamentable yearly re turns of railway wrecks, the comfort in these calculations is largely theoreti cal, where it is not confined to the accident-insurance companies. Others of the magazine's items are more impressive. The 200,000 miles of railways in the United States would girdle the eaitfh eight times at the equator. There are two miles of railroad in this Republic for every three in the rest of America, Europe. Asia, Africa and Australasia combined. The United States has six times es great a railway system. In mileage, as Germany or Russia, seven limes as great as the United Kingdom or Aus tria-Hungary, twenty times as great as Italy, twenty-three times as great as Spain. The present capital of American railroads, including stocks, bonds and floating indebtedness amounts to about sl2,ooo.ooo,ooo—about Si3o per capita of population or $750 per family. The average citizen made eight rail way trips In 1001 and pays about $22 per year in fares. The railways of the country em ployed in 1901 an average of 1,071,000, representing about 5,000,000 persons, or one-fifteenth of the population. TVages of these employes for 1001 amounted to solo,ooo,ooo—more than half the operating expenses of the roads—and averaged, roughly, $570 per man. WISE WORDS. Dishonesty is n forsaking of perma nent for temporary advantages.—Bo vee. No man was over discontented with the world if he did his duty in it.— Southey. It is never other people's opinions that displease us, but only the desire they sometimes show to impose them upon us, against our will.—Joubert. Every manner of living, each of our actions, lias a particular end in view, and all these ends have a general aim —happiness. It is not in the end, but in the choice of means that we deceive ourselves. —Aristotle. It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in soli tude to live after our own, but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweet ness the Independence of solitude. — Emerson. It is certain that there Is a great deal tf good in us that does not know itself, nd that a habit of union and competi tion brings people up and keeps theru up to their highest point; that life would be twice or ten times life if spent with wise or fruitful companions. —Emerson. How to live?—that is the essential question for us. Not how to live in the mere material sense only, but in the widest sense. The general problem wliich comprehends every special prob lem is—the right ruling of conduct in all directions under all circumstances. —Spencer. The man who prospers 100 easily is not likely thereby to develop the finest type of character. In spiritual work immediate and abundant reaping tends sometimes to be productive of spiritual pride, to a man's own undoing and to the undoing, probably, of the work it self.—J. S. Mayer. Most people go through life with closed eyes and minds. They do not notice what goes on about them; they have no curiosity about trees, birds, stars, the mechanism of locomotives, the art of galling, the wonders of elec tricity, the endless variety and move ment of things in the world in which they live. They do not learn as they go on in life, because they have not formed a habit of learning.—Success. Composition or Old Pricks. Some of the white bricks of Nippur, in their black ebony cases, engaged the other day the attention of a group of students at the University Museum. "These bricks, thousands of years old, ought to be studied through the micro scope," one of them said. "The micro, scope might reveal strange secrets in them. I once examined microscopic ally a brick from the pyramid of Dnshonr. It contained Nile mud, chopped straw and sand. There were also in it bits of shell, some fish bone nnd some fragments of dead insects. A shred of string was interesting—it showed that these people had used string just like ours. There was also a slircd of cloth, ns finely woven as our best hand looms can produce to-day. Altogether, the microscope brought to bear upon relics of the past brings to light much that is of interest, and might, if more widely employed, occa sion some important discoveries."— Philadelphia Record. Duelling Encouraged In Auitrla, The Socialist paper, Arbeit Zeitung, of Vienna, publishes a Becret decree of the Anstrlan minister of war di rected against the Anti-Duel League. The decree is to the effect that officers and cadets in the army on service or otherwise must not join the league. Those who are already members must leave it. The army in Austria is de cidedly in favor of preserving the duel. Tke Roekd. to/iu Ves±ercli£y£dS Sflfhere is a road to yesterday—, "*^B? EMI-J A wondrous thoroughfare, f Where wanjon breezes idly play| And blossoms scent the air. It stretches long and far and straight; V It wanders up and down; JT It passes many an open gate ...... And many a little town. f IP! The grasses trees that spread and swing and waj And shade the pathway wide. Its flowers are a goodly sight. And it goes on and on And leads to many a starry night is a road . And we may trace its gleam 1 vp flecking shade or dancing ray I Upon some little stream; * A Or we may see it, when, with eyes Half-closed, we hear a song That calls up many a glad sunrise rijjß And .many, atwilight Hhere is a road to And each one knows its start—sW I The portal to this wondrous way Is held within the heart. From there the pleasant courses lead As far as one can see— It i ests on^ —TV. D. N. in Chicago Tribune. BOUND TO DISCOVER POLE. American Expedition Hopes to Plant Our Flag There. Another American expedition Is about to start In search of the Inac cessible North Pole. Anthony Fala, a young Brooklyn 'explorer, is ID charge of the party, Capt. Edwin Cof fin will go as skipper, while Zlegler Is backing the attempt. The party will shortly sail from Norway on the good ship America. Every effort will be made to plant the Stars and Stripaa in the frozen North. A The discovery by Capt. Scott, tire leader of the British Antarctic expe dition, of mountain ranges with [joints rising to a height of from 12,- 000 to 15,000 feet above the sea level, farther south than ever before known, y together with the volcanoes, still fur ther differentiates the typography of the known parts of the two Polar regions. In the Arctic regions there are no volcanoes, and the highest mountain possibly is Petormann Peak, on the east coast of Greenland, which, formerly supposed to be up- , ward of 11,000 feet in height, is now known not to exceed 9,000 feet, and is probably not even that. In the moun tain ranges bordering Victoria Land on the side of Ross' Sea are many peaks between 12,000 and 15,000 high, including Mt. Victoria, Mt. Melbourne and Mt. Herschel, and Capt. Sco'tt's discoveries show that these high mountain ranges extend several hun dreds of miles still further south with \ mountainous peaks quite as high. It J" Is a question whether Mt. Terror Is a volcano, but Mt. Erebus was smoking In February, 1901. Both Capt. Scott's and Borchgre vinlt's expeditions confirm Ross' re port of open water during the sum mer months in Ross Sea when once the Ice on the parallel of Cape Adare Is passed. The Age of Pompeii. Prof. Dall Osso, inspector of the Museum of Naples, has just published "V an article in which he affirms that re- f searches and excavations prove that there existed a Pompeii nine centuries before our era. Club Frowns on Marriage. In Berlin a club of the "disengaged" nas been formed by young men who, having broken with their sweethearts regard marriage as fated to be a fail ure. j
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers