Newspaper Page Text
THE MONROE
VOL XXXIX.
ART IN NEW YORK.
THOUSAN DS OF STUDENTS ARE
FLOCKING INTO THE SCHOOLS,
-
They Have Their Privations, and They
Also Wear Long or Tousled Hair
Make Themselves as Uncon
ntional as Possible for a Time.
4i'\o, fall opening of the art
ttfhyolg attracts hundreds of art st u¬
dents, and, judging by the number
of names already enlisted on the reg¬
isters of the largest schools and the
#D.’'Lk>s lately, it, looks ns though
I here will be between 1A0<K) und
art students in New York cify
Winter. At least two-thirds of this
number are women. With t ho return
of the art student, the real Boliom
ian life of New York begins. There
is no class of students who undergo
the deprivation and inconvenience,
or live the from hand-to-mouth life
that these free-thinking lovers of
beauty do.
It seems to bo a theory among
students that a man or woman will
never succeed and become known ns
a great artist unions they have at one
time or another Buffered from want
of good food, a comfortable bod and
the continual dunnings of the land
lord who rents them their hall bed
room or at t ic.
Like all people who are deprived of
t he almight y dollar, art students find
the winter I he hardest season of tho
year. In t lie summer many of them
have t heir homes t rc turn to; others
go to some remote country place and
depot boiling; while tho third lot
rent the swell studios of artists who
have left the city to commune with
nnt ure.
Those who return home and are
comfortably provided for, are often
able to turn out some good work in
the way' of sketches; they have the
advantage over tlioso that are com¬
boiling. pelled to put in their summer pot
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FRKK-1I AN D SKETCHES OF SOME FRESH STUDENTS.
It is only those who live among
thorn and see their daily actions who
know to what excess the average art
student who comes to New York to
Study has to sutler. Tho truer the
artistic temperament-in the student,
the greater the inconvenience he is
willing to put up with.
Last year was an extremely hard
one for art students. Everybody
was pinched for means, owing to the
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A FLIRTATIOUS MODEL.
» har,l i times, anj i many of . ,, the art ,
sehools would have ele.-ed had it not
been for he perseveroi.ee of the stu
I. r ,’?,/, ? r0rtca ° St
October d, three young men came on
from the West, each with *50 with
which to pay his tuition. They
were allowed to sleep in one of the
rooms of one of the art schools on
West 23d street. None of them had
more than a dollar after his year s
tuition was paid, and two of them
lived for three months at the rate of
10 cents per day for food. Todothis
and still retain their health, the
boys saw that it would be necessary
to get the matter of food down to a
scientific basis, and. after consider
aide hard study and many r h recces
to books on diet, they nvidod that
thoy could live for the greatest
length of t ime on graham bread and
apples. One of these men lived for
two month- on $ !. 7.). To m st
pie this would seem like the most
abject poverty. But there wore not
three happier fellows in New York,
All three accomplished their end.
One isan instructor in one of the best
known schools for manual training,
thc second is an illustrator on a
magazine, and the third soils his
wall paper designs for the best prices
that are given for such work.
Portrait painters will seldom take
lip pot boiling al ing their own lines
an sacrilege to their art. They would,
p t boil along any other lime without
*
FORSYTH. MONROE COUNTY, GA-, TUESDAY MORNING, DECEMBER II, 1894.
! the least compunction, but a good
student who is aiming to be a por
trait painter will seldom take up pot
boiling portraiture as a means of ex
istence. He may be compelled to
degrade the art of the students in the
next department to him, and will
turn out poor designs for wall papers,
carpets, initial letters and advertise
nients. In return the student who
is studying designing would rather
try his hand at bad portraiture than
to put unclassic designs on the
market.
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A FAIR CRITIC.
Last year a number of men stu
j dents, who aro anxious to keep up
their studies, and yet not to demean
any branches of the art by pot boil
| ing, served half their day in posing
as models in the schools, Three
young women, two of whom are well
known artists in this city to-dav,
took a three-years’ course at the
Academy of Design, and made their
way by posing nude at the evening
life classes. On many occasions they
were drawn and sketched by the very
Students whom Ihey had sat
next to in the morning, but were not
recognized on account of the face
masks they wore. The fact of their
posing might never have leaked out
had not a couple of boisterous
dents roughly torn the mask from
one of the girl’s faces just as the
class was going to be dismissed. The
girl fainted, and was never known to
pose again.
The majority of rooms on the top
floors of either side of 23d street,
from Seventh avenue over to Third
avenue, are occupied either by artists
or art students. That portion of the
city and bits of 56th and 57th streets
might be called the Latin Quarter of
New York. The ambition of every
art student, whether man or woman,
girl or boy, is to have a studio. To
live in a furnished room is purgatory.
I If they can get a small attic room,
with a low cot in one corner, which
they always call a divan, a couple of
chairs, and a few yards of fish net,
they consider they have a studio.
The walls are soon covered with
sketches ; if the coloring of the paint
ing and papering is inharmonious, a
few yards of ten-cent burlap will
cover the defects and make a pretty
background for the sketches.
For the funniest phases in art stu
dent life, notice the young man or
woman who conies to the city to put
in his or her first year’s work. The
typical young man lets his hair grow
long, and is never seen with anything
b ■ Tam 0 . slia „ u , r on hl ; hend
, h h ., s the glislltegt excuse for
wearl ono He allo , v5 his trousers
to to* S «! the In,,*, and appears in
«oft .ilnaca
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exchanging ideas.
always bedaubed with paint, which
he trios to make himself and those
around him believe has got there
through his absent-mindedness. He
likes to tell of the hard times he has
had to get the money to pay his tu
itioo, and of the opposition of his par
ents’will.
The girl student usually conies on
with a wedded-to-nrt expression,
tousles her hair, buys the biggest
palette she can find, and drapes her
uneorseted form in wi sat she believes
, to be a purely artistic painting apron.
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Instructors in schools know this,
and with great interest watch the
development on the part of the stu*
dent. Perhaps in time both these
students will join the sketch class.
and after they have posed and seen
themselves as their forty or fifty
classmates see them they begin to
make a change. The young man cuts
his hair, purchases a bottle of ben
zine and rubs the paint old his
clothes, and uses the Tam o’ Shunter
only as a decoration on his studio
wall. The girl begins to think—par
ticularly if she has been earning her
own living—that she may possibly
be induced to try matrimony. She
still holds thnt she will never marry
a man who is not her equal in every
respect, but she begins to dress her¬
self a little more becomingly, and
finds that she can paint in her street
gown without so much superfluous
apron.
ROUGH RIDING.
The Way Australian Mustangs Are
• Broken In.
“Open theTgate!” roars tho man¬
ager. “Look out, you boy's!” and
with a mad rush out flies the colt
through the open gate, like a shell
from a howitzer. For twenty yards
be races at full speed, then “prop¬
ping,” as if galvanized, shoots up¬
ward with the true deer’s leap, all
four feet in the air at once (.from
which the vice takes its name), and
comes down with his head between his
forelegs and his nose (this I watched
narrowly) touching the girths. But
the rider has swayed back in his sad¬
dle with instinctive ease, and is quite
prepared for a succession of light¬
ning-like bounds—sideways, upward,
downward, backward—as the agile
and frantic animal appears to tarn in
the air, and to come down with his
head in the place where his tail was
when he rose.
For an instant ho stops; then, per¬
haps, the spurs are sent in so as to
accentuate tho next performance.
Tho crowd meanwhile of six or seven
hundred people, mostly young or in
the prime of life, follow cheering and
clapping with every fresh attempt on
the part of the frenzied steed to dis¬
pose of his rider. A few minutes of
this exercise suffice to exhaust and
steady the wildest colt.
It is a species of “monkeying,” a
device of the buck-breaker, who ties
a bag on to the back of a timid colt,
and he, frightened out of his life, as
if by a monkey perched there, ex
aauafcp iiiunSei/ rrdii permuts uie rider
to mount and ride away'with but lit¬
tle resistance. Sometimes, indeed,
the colt turns in his tracks, and be¬
ing unmanageable in his paroxysms,
charges the crowd, whom lie scatters
with great screaming and laughter
as they fall over each other or climb
the boundary fence. But very
shortly', with lowered head and trem¬
bling frame, he allowed himself
to be ridden to the gate of
egress.
There he is halted, and his rider
taking hold of his left ear with his
bridle hand, swings lightly to the
ground, closely alongside of the
shoulder. Did he not so alight, tho
agile mustang is capable of a light¬
ning wheel and a dangerous kick.
Indeed, one rider dismounting care
lessly discovered this to his cost
after riding a most unconscionable
performer.—[New York World,
Put Sponges in His Nostrils.
The quiet country neighborhood
four miles south of Indianapolis,Ind.,
is enjoying a sensation which has de
velped from a horse trade whose feat¬
ures would discount anything in the
latter-day calendar of sharp practice
in horse trades. John Chambers, a
well-to-do young farmer, had a
smooth, clean-limbed young animal,
quiet and gentle, and a good traveler,
but with a defect in breathing which
made her practically worthless. In
common parlance, she ivas broken
winded,and the disease was so marked
that she wheezed audibly even when
standing in the stable and without
being driven, a thing unusual even in
broken-winded horses, as the defect
can rarely be detected except when
it i s developed by exercise, Several
days ago, a stranger rented a farm
near by and moved into the
neighborhood, Chambers n,, . ,, thought ,
this his chance, \ and, forcing a
sponge into each nostril of Ins V bro
ken-winded horse, so as to compel
the animal to breathe only through
his mouth he drove over to see his
ne ,v comer [ and „[! proposed P a trade V
bar „ a n wa , llc k and Chamber h™
| [o hor ,e worth a dozen of 'd and
s bom. T e r purchaser d “ noc not
► a ”-Vth.ng ... for several , days,
l “ l r K aT lima gradually grew so
. . .
offenM'e that lie could haraly enter
tiesta .de. He t ion toik her to a
veterinary and the latter, after a pro
^ racted examination, detected and
drew out the sponges. M ith the re
n lova °\ s P° ngeS ’ and t ie
, of the accumulated pus the
trick was discovered and the wheez
returne d- u lamlnr^ under
1 ^eats of prosecution, gave up the
him »rrpdi>l ‘ [ eu fnr mipltv ‘ to 1 nmm'iis an ‘ m ‘ us
’
„ , ts amounted
a i ■ °ago T' 0 , "u nera.d, CO: ’ to
-
(r| s earch of Salt.
-
Frank Cushing,of the United States
National Bureau of Ethnology, be
lieves that the necessity of procur
ing salt had much to do with the
migration of interior tribes. In the
folk-lore of the Zuni there is a salt
goddess, who is the daughter of the
ocean, and salt itself, they believed,
was derived from the sun. Perhaps
we do not give sufficient credit to the
methods of the interchange of com
modities which must have existed in
the earliest periods.—[New Y'ork
Tunes.
FOR THE YOUNG FOLKS.
BEDTIME.
Lucy climbs on Grandma’s chair,
Gently smooths the snowy hair,
Softly says “Please tell me true,
Grandma* dear, do you, do you
Like bedtime?”
Grandma says, in thoughtful way:
“\ ery long has been the day.
^ight seems slow to come, and late
Lucy, yes, I watch and wait
For bedtime.”
—[New York orld.
CAPTAIN CARTER’S MONKEY.
Captain Carter, wholivedin Wash
ington, D. C., when on land, had a
great fancy for fine fowls, and among
his collection prized a fine old king
gobbler. On his last cruise he
brought home a mischierous young
monkey, which gave him so much
trouble it was a good deal like “an
elephant on his hands.” One day,
hearing a terrible squaking in the
hennery, the Captain found Jocko
wit h king gobbler under his arm,
while he was deliberately pulling out
the poor bird’s last tail feather. The
Captain rescued the turkey, and
punished the monkey severely', who
knew very' well why he was chastised.
The next day, again hearing a com¬
motion among the feathered tribe,
lie went to the scene of action, and
there sat Jocko with the much per¬
secuted gobbler between bis knees,
while he was trying to put the
feathers back. His intentions of re
pairing the mischief done were good,
but the turkey did not appreciate
them.—[Harper’s Y'oung People.
A MISCHIEVOUS BEAR.
Tappan Adney, in St. Nicholas,
tells the story of a bear cub, captured
by a backwoodsman named Ben
Lawson, and saved as a pet for his
children.
Ben’s little girl, about eight years
old, took a fancy to the young
orphan, and called him “Billy.”
Billy looked like a big Newfound¬
land pup, black and shaggy, but with
a tail conspicuous by being “hardly
a tail at all,” as Ben said. He was
as playful as a young dog or kitten,
and used to romp on the floor with
the to bite children, them. hugging an^pretending
But the good woman o> the house
viewed the little fellov.J or.si[A with sus¬
picion, ’and was not persuaded
-all Jbt“UM eonallv
dangerous. -It was vP 1 * 1 ' 11 from the
first that even a baby, cu hwas hardly
welcome. So Billy W vas provided that
with a small leather collar
could bo let out as lit ;rew, and a
small chain, which, h Lever, was
never used. Ho was fed at firsfT'&P
milk, and afterward .on bread and
buckwheat pancakes. Indeed, he
was confined to a strictly vegetable
diet, because they thought his savage
nature might be developed by eating
meat.
Billy throve ""and soon needed a
bigger collar. It was never thought
necessary to keep him chained up,
because he was so gentle. He had,
therefore, the run of not only their
own farmyard, but those of their
neighbors as well. He was bent
upon every sorb of mischief; bub it
was not until long afterwards that
he began the series of depredations
that led to his untimely end. Sum¬
mer came and passed. In the
autumn, when Ben dug his potatoes,
Billy followed behind, watching what
was going on, and, it is said, as the
children picked the potatoes up,
Billy himself learned to look for
them and paw them out of the soil.
Be this as it may, every bear uses
its paws with great cleverness—and
Billy was a clever bear.
When the days grew colder, at the
approach of winter, he commenced
to dig a hole under the side of the
barn, and soon had a great cavity
under the floor of the cow-stable.
Into this den he began to carry all
sorts of stuff, and Ben thought Billy
was getting ready for winter in his
natural way.
One day* when bread was kitchen being
baked, Billy hung about the
with a make-believe indifferent air.
After the bread was carefully laid
away under a white cloth upon the
pantry ' ' shelf, Billy' g* waited until the
i3tr 3s - s back ,, lrned . I„ a „
instant, the cub made for the pantry.
There ^ w „. ?f as a slluBe T and ““ “ ratt l e of
1™*’(mick'^The # i “The
0 ear - quiciK:. Ihe bear's bears got g the e
bre * d! cncd the w, f * m d,stres3 '
as she . turned ln VT® . t0 the ras ;
f , 1 r } mmn S out of doors with several
hn » loav£s " his «“*•
Ben, as it . happened, Tuibbub. was close , by, .
and heard the He sprang
to the door of the house just in time
intercept Master Billy. Billy
re arecl on his hind legs, and, as Ben
cau | ht him bv lho back of the neck,
he § rowled sa V ag c elv *e and struck back
at en with one fre paw. but never
quitting Finally, his hold of the bread.
after getting a good sliak
ing and a cuffing atotit the ears,
p, ro ke away, carrying off the
middle loaf of the three, die dis
appeared into his den. where he ate
it at leisure.
His only happy times then were on
Sunday afternoons, when Ben was at
home and was sure to unchain him
for a play. While Ben had his eye
on Billy the bear could be kept out
of mischief. But Billy remembered
a neighbor’s house where he used
now and then to have a morsel thrown
to him out of a window. Unawares
lie slipped away one day and went
over there. On the sill of the very
window—unfortunate thing—was :
stack of pies. Billy stood up and
put his paws around the whole pile
to carry them off. It was a dismal
failure, for the pies flew in all <? : “ec
tions. Billy ran home, and doubt
less remembered for some time thr
sound drubbing he received with a
ADVERTISER.
brooras, 1 tde^ s or a “
matter. 8 o„ e
time consulted the magistrate of the
neighborhood, and Ben was cautioned
about his bear.
A FAITHFUL WATCHER.
Wages at Fifty Cents a Week Due
for Twenty Years.
Connected with the history of the
old Quaker graveyard on Fifth street
above Spruce is the career of a man
who may some day have a nice little
bill against the owners of the ceme¬
tery. Fifth
Nearly every resident of the
Ward knows Florence Sullivan. For
twenty years he has presided over Fifth a
bookstand on the east side of
street, directly' opposite the grave
yard gate. During this same period
he has kept a watchful eye on the
property across the way, and never
while he has beoil there has the
never-tiring small boy been allowed
to desecrate the now’ grass-grown
graves in the cemetery’,
It was commonly understood that
the old gentleman is the custodian of
that plot of ground, and the story' of
his vigil is known to almost every
one in the neighborhood. Sul¬
Under a verbal agreement Mr.
livan is to receive 50 cents per week
for keeping the graves undisturbed
He has not yet received a cent, and
will get no money until the grave
y'ard has been sold and tho purchase
money' turned into the Society' of
Friends.
When the sale will take place is
hard to tell, for efforts to dispose of
the property have been made for
y'ears. In all likelihood the faithful
old watcher will himself have passed
away by the time the property' has
passed into other hands.
The old gentleman has grown to
look on the ground with a feeling
almost akin to fatherly pride and has
made himself familiar with the cem¬
etery’s history'. He said yesterday
that it was used by the Quakers-dur¬
ing the Revolutionary war, and that
the bodies buried there were those of
men, who contrary to their faith,
had taken up arms. In his recollec¬
tion there had been only two burials
in the plot. Mr. Sullivan is in no
wise worried about his bill, and is, in
fact, unable to give any figures as
to what is due him. He has been
assured that ho will be paid when the
ground is sold and with this he is
satisfied. m
E/ Friend- entanglement
nave to get permission of
the State to dispose of their property.
A bill permitting them to sell way
passed some years ago, but vetoed by
Governor Beaver. Since Mr. J'atti
son bas been the Executive, how
g^^'jtg^ta^gtveirTiis approval to a
similar measure, so nothing but a
purchaser is now necessary' to make
the sale and effect a settlement with
the faithful old custodian. At fifty
cents a week for twenty' y'ears Mr.
Sullivan’s bill would amount to
$520.—[Philadelphia Inquirer.
Luck of Senator Jones.
Senator Jones, of Nevada, told the
following story of the finding of a
match on a gold-hunting trip in
early days to a Washington reporter:
“We set out one day to go up a
great canyon, > > says the Senator,
“and we found it most fatiguing, for
there was no road. Six miles of
travel in the canyon was equal to
twenty-five miles on the level. One
of my deputies was with me. At
noon we had gone about half our
journey, and we stopped fora rest.
I was very fond of smoking and
I pulled out my pipe, intending to
take a smoke. I loaded up and then
reached for a match. There was nor
one in my poeket. My deputy was
not a smoker, "’" t " and he did not carry
matches. I was almost dying for a
smoke. As I was looking around
desperately I saw a match lying on
the ground right beside a little
stream that ran through the canyon.
I was almost frightened at the sight
of it at that providential momentjn
such an out-of-the-way place, j
picked it up, saying to myself: ‘Of
course it won’t light. It has been
lying in the wet sand a long time,
and I can’t expect it to light-.’ But
it did light, and I had my smoke. I
f. ey f r k " e "' a piece of luck to beat
? ha 1 ; “ ,’ s not - ll ' e most important
incident . life , which good
in my in
fortune lias stood by me, but it is
one of the strangest.”—[San Fran¬
cisco Examiner.
Shipping Fruit in Gas.
Anew experiment is about to be
tried in connection with shipping
California fruit. The arrangements
are about complete. Carbonic acid
gas is shortly to be tried, experiment
ally, as a substitute for refrigeration
in bringing California fruit to the
Chicago market. The charges fora
refrigerating $125: car from Chicago is
and it is to save this expense
the experiment will be made. Growers
who have made the test claim that if
fruit is surrounded by carbonic acid
gas instead of air all the process of
decay and deterioration are arrested
and the flavor of the fruit is not im
paired.
An ordinary car has been zinc
lined so as to be practicall}’air-tight.
It will be filled with fruit and car
bonic acid then introduced. A con
denser filled with the liquified gas
will be placed in the car as a supply
from which to repair any leakage
which may occur.
The gas is obtained from an
abandoned quicksilver mine near San
Jose, where, it is claimed, an inex
Iiaustible quantity exists. Should
the experiment prove successful, a
fresh impetus will be given to the
fruitgrowing industry of the Pacific
Coast.—[San Francisco Examiner.
THE JOKER’S BUDGET.I
I
jests AND YARNS BY FUNNY
MEN OF THE PRESS.
Hopeless- - Relentless Time- - Hence
the Hitch--Wrongs of Waiters - -
Etc., Etc.
HOPELESS.
Mills—What does Maxenco do for
a living? and anybody j
Dills—His landlady
else he can lay his hands on.
relentless time.
jy e started in alarm,
“No,'” she repeated, “you do :
no t know what my past fife has |
beon.”
jj is f H1 g evs pressed convulsively i
| nto pj] mgi
“Surely, • ? he cried, ‘it has not
been more than thirty-five years.”
The ocean moaned as it has for
ages, and that was all.
HENCE THE HITCH.
Cobwigger—I’ve fiddled away a
week trying to get up a design for a
home-made flower-stand for use in
the Ladies’ Friend.
Terwilliger—That shouldn’t be
such a hard job.
Cobwigger—But you don’t under¬
stand. Tho idea is to get up some
thing that can be made entirely by a
woman ; so it mustn’t have any nails
in it.—[Puck.
WRONGS OF WAITERS.
Waiter—Yes, sir, we’re goia’ to
strike.
Friend—Want more wages?
“No.”
“Shorter hours, then?”
“No.”
“Hum! What’s wrong?”
“The boss don’t furnish guests
with the best quality of food, an’ the
cooks are careless.”
“What’s all that to you?”
“We don’t get no tips.”—[New
York Weekly.
NO HURRY.
The Woman—I’ll be ready in just
one second, dear.
• The Husband—Then I’ll have timo
to run down , town and , get , shaved , . , be
fore we start, love. [ I rut 1^
NO TIME TO REPENT. ■
“And so you married in haste.
Well, did you repept at leisure?”
“Hardly. I have not had a leisure
moment since the ceremony.”
VASTLY DIFFERENT.
She gave'ffixC back my heart, But oh I
When It was I requested a diffdrfW^^ig IfSKo send
Me back my diamond ring.
—[Puck.
A DIVISION OF LABOR.
Husband—Wiil you remind mo
that I have to write a letter this
evening?
Wife—Yes, dear. And will you re
mind me of something?
Husband — Of course. What is
it?
Wife—Remind mo that I have to
remind you.—[Truth.
HER FIRST CHANCE.
He (just accepted)—You say you
were never engaged before?
She—Yes.
He—IIow r is that? I thought all
women always had three or four en
gagements.
She (guilelessly)—AY ell, I presume
^ too. A on see this is the fiist
chance I have had.
according to plan .
" hy do , you , en v0 ™ e “, 1 . on ® CT -
f ry evening?” her asked husband , Mrs. Mullins, I
fearfully, as put on Ins
bat preparatory to going out.
for° j’ourself "alone. “I
m arrie<l you
[New' York Sun.
m NO WONDER.
“How on earth did Hunker get out
of his engagement with Miss Elder,
after he fell in love w'ith Miss
Scadds?” said Taddells to Gaz
zam.
“It was done by a judicious selec
tion of a birthday present.”
“What did he send her?”
“He sent her a book entitled
‘How' to Grow’ Old Gracefully,’ and
she sent his letters and ring back
immediately.—[Judge.
NOT PROVED,
She—See my dog; he does nearly
everything that I do, and yet they
say dogs have no brains !
He—Well, I don’t think that proves
it, dear.
The next day they stopped taking
ice.—[Yonkers Statesman.
A RAPID GIRL.
He-Great T7> r . . guns! , c She , has . _ known ,
me f 11 }* a week and ? fefc f e ha3 ac ‘
cepted me-we , re engaged,
‘ lC ^ 011 don t say so. Sue has
known , you a whole week and she
I'^sn t married you yet? [New York
double-standard financiering.
she (enthusiastically) — ! would
have given anything in the world to
get c it!
j£e—Well, why didn’t you * buy
it?
y] ie —oil. it cost too much_fifty
cents. New Y'ork Sun. ’
"
in hard luck.
“What are you * crying about, ’ my
*
little man?”
“Jimmie O'Brien licked me first,
and then father licked me for letting
Jimmie lick me, and then Jimmie
licked me again for telling father, an’
now I suppose I shall catch it again °
from father.”
--
Nutmeg hickory is the strongest
wood which grows in the United
-States.
____
NO. 48
WISE words.
Loss of sincerity is loss of vital
power,
Who loses all tho fault that is
found?
It is as great to bo a woman as to bo
a man.
Castles in tho air are seldom fur¬
nished.
Life is a riddle, to which tho answer
is death,
Impudence is sometimes mistaken
f or liberty,
A lion pecked husband is often
chicken hearted.
Talking is tlio safety valve of tho
feminine boiler,
What a lot of things people hido
from eaoh other!
Every man makes a different noise
when ho sneezes. .
To a clever woman every' man is a
possible husband.
A signature to a mortage is usually
a pretty bad sign.
People are not shocked as often as
they pretend to be.
The surest way to bo bad is trying
too hard to bo good.
Tho secret of success is success in
keeping one’s secrets.
Tho great wisdom ie not to talk
wisely, but to act wisely.
The man who does most has the
least timo to talk about it.
There is nothing more serious than
what some consider a joke.
The shortest day in tho year is tho
day before your note falls due.
A boy always experiences nervous
affection on the eve of proposing.
Love is tho paradise of tho foolish,
but only tho playground of the wise.
A good man is one who behaves
himself, and forgives others who do
not.
The worry of to-day is usually the
result of tho carelessness of yostor
c ^ a 7*
Chinese Victims ol Consumption.
That there is a large Chinese popu¬
lation in Boston is well known, and
yet it is seldom that one hears of a
deafc h in tho Chinese quarter, Tho
proportion of Chinese residents is
email as compared with those of other
nationalities, and there is no way to
tell tho exact number of deaths among
them, as they are recorded by tlio city
offioi in der tho head of miscel
lam HfehaJities.. Inauiry reveals
the fi Chinamer
case <tSWTconsumption,
as a rule, but a short time. *
native country their principal diet
rice, which from its healthfulness,
tends to lengthen life. When they
begin business hero all their
habits change. They work early and
late, seldom leaving their shops, and
as they succeed they bogin to oat
American food. It is remarked by all
with whom they have dealings that
they always buy tho best tho markets
afford. It is their custom to work un¬
til midnight or after, and then enjoy
a hearty meal. If they are well-to-do
they are certain to have chickens and
whatever fruit can bo procured, no
matter how expensive it may be. If
they have just started in tho laundry
business it is quite likely that they
will form a company and adjourn to
the nearest “night lunch wagon” or
restaurant.
Living as most of them do, in such
small rooms, when sickness overtakes
them they cannot receive proper care,
and they are carried to the hospitals.
—Boston Transcript.
The Eyes ol a Portrait,
How it is that the eyes of some por¬
traits seem to follow a spectator
around the room? It is thus ex
Suppose a portrait have its
face aa ^ e y es directed straight in
front, so as to look at tho sjiectator.
Let a straight line be drawn through.
the nose and half way be
tween the eyes. On each side of this
middle line there will be the same
breath of head, of cheek, of chin, and
of neck, and each iris will bo in the
middle of the whole of the eye. If
one now go to one side, the apparent
horizontal breadth of every part of
the head and face will be diminished,
but the parts on each side of the mid
die line will be diminished equally
and at every position, however ob¬
lique, there will be the same breadth
of face on each side of the middle line,
and the iris will remain in the centre
0 f the eyeball, so that the portrait
will preserve all the character of a
figure looking at the spectator and
must necessarily do so wherever he
stands. In portraits the apparent
motion of the head is generally ren¬
dered indistinct by the canvas being
imperfectly stretched, as the slightest
concavity or convexity entirely de¬
forms the face.—Cincinnati Commer¬
cial Gazette.
The Horse Knew the Days ot the Week,
A Dexter (Me.) man has a mare that
knows several things, and among
other accomplishments apparently can
tell the day of the week. On Sunday
last the gentleman hitched up, and,
having assisted his wife into the car
riage, got in himself. He was busied
for a moment in arranging the robe,
and before he had taken up the reins
the horse started oat of the yard into
the street. His purpose was to attend
church, and, as the horse took that
direction, he decided to let her go
without guiding to see wnat she would
do. The route is altogether different
from that taken in the week-day driv
ing- He left the reins hanging on tho
dasher, but nevertheless was carried
as straight to the church as he would
have gone if he had turned tho
horse. Without a word, when siio
had turned up to the church door and
the carriage was in position at the
steps, the mare stopped for her .^ maa
tomfcoft Joined