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