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About The Toccoa news. (Toccoa, Ga.) 1893-1896 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 10, 1895)
XXII. LOVE AXD SORROW. ILove and i sorrow met in May, Crowned with rue and hawthorn spray, And sorrow smiled. Scarce a bird of all the spring Durst between them pass and sing, And scarce a child. Love put forth his hand to take Sorrow h wreath for sorrow’s sake. Her crown of rae. Borrow east before her down K en for love’s sake love’s own crown. Crowned with dew. M inter bren he 1 again, and spring f owered arid shrank with wounded wing Down out of sight. May, with all her loves laid low, Saw no flowers hot flowers of snow That mocked her flight Love rose up, with crownless head. •Smiling down on spring time dead On wintry May Borrow, like a cloud lhat flies, •Like a cloud in « lcai ing skies, Passed uwav Pearson’s Weekly Tale ef a Typewriter. Raj rnoml Ri JSC sat in hi omfortable after-breakfast chair reading his after¬ breakfast newspaper. All bis surround- Ings denoted comfort. He was a bachelor « f thirty-live year-. IIis dark and rather bticc face hcamc ! with the kindliness which conic's of b< iug thoroughly com- fortable, lie was neither thin nor stout— his frame had just contrived to hit that happy medium which is styled “corn- tollable.” lie felt himseif a success in literature. At thirty-live his position was assured, so lie must, at any rate, have been a moder¬ ate success. He wrote when and what lie pleased. Just now be had completed a volume of short stories. In fact, Raymond was one of those felicitous men who have in their life every¬ thing that they want—save one thing, and they don’t know what that is. So Raymond Rose read his morning paper glanced around his own comfortable apartment, bethinking sighed and frowned. Then, himself of his volume of short stories, turned again to the newspaper and studied the advertisement sheet. Typewriting done for authors and otlieis lit the rate of 8 d. per 1 , 00 .) words; paper found. Apply MissG. Ramsay, 5 Nether court Terrace, N. \V. “Cheap!” muttered Raymond, "dis¬ tinctly cheap! Think I'll try it.” Then he began to wonder, in his usual way, as to vvh.it Miss G. Ramsay looked like, and whether Nothercourt Terrace was shabbily genteel or dirtily slum like. “It’s almost like ‘sweating,’” lie mur¬ mured. “I suppose she is hard up. Wants work badly, perhaps. The price does seem fearfully low all the same. Ah! well, ’tis the same for me as for any one else.” From which it may be deduced that if Raymond’s talents were a little above the average, his philanthropy was quite nor- mal. Not that lie was mean. No one ever thought of calling him that. Only his enemies dared to hint that he was "close.” lie was merely the ordinary English business man. He sat I i n down before a desk and penned Miss a note, which he addressed to G. Ramsav, of Ncthcrcourt Terrace. j The missive contained a request to be in- formed whether Miss Ramsay could under- take to type-tv rite Mr. K - Volume ot Bbort Stories" for immediate publication, Then with eased mind he proceeded to forget all about Miss Ramsay, Nether- court Terrace, and the exigencies of the hard-pressed typist. Borne letters had to be answered, proofs corrected and one newspaper article written. Haviug accomplished these various tasks, lie partook of a light luncheon, walked a little by way of exercise, smoked, and finally, us evening drew on, settled himself comfortably in his comfortable chair and looked over his manuscript stories. One or two required more alteration and addition than lu lmd given them. One. he thought would have to be re written, The rest were good enough for liis pur- pose, which, after all, was to make an in- come, so he told himself. They were not great works. Oitics would style them “fair, wholesome mediocrity.” Friends would smile and prophecy their deserved- ly popular reception. Then Raymond Rose went to bed and slept the sleep of the highly respectable. As has been liefore observed he was a comfortable man. recking little of the future and not at all of the past. Unreal- ized hopes, ambitions, aspirations were nothing to him. "They are fulfilled,’’ lie would have told himself, had he recalled them, which he didn't, “and because they are uot fulfilled in the precise way in which I then hoped that they would be 1 cannot sincerely grieve. Circumstances mould the man. He is a mere puppet, swayed by their force, If 1 am less than 1 should be blame flattery and fortune, not me lam but an instrument m their hands.’ Which is the way m which manv conscience-pricking*difficulties. sophistical persons avoid similar The next morning lie got up. break- fasted and read the morning paper, as was his wont. Then he turned once more to his short stories. Did he feel seedy this morning? Had the weather depressed him? or what wa. the matter? Certainly his work seemed far less satisfactory than lie had ever previ- ously found it. To his senses, refreshed by a night’s rest, these stories appeared weak and dull. Why had he never uotieed these things before? Or. rather, why should he have noticed them now. at the eleventh hour? This sudden conscious- ness was most inconvenient. "Miss Ramsay, sir.” suddenly said his housekeeper from the doorway. Raymond Rose turned in his chair, none too pleased at the interruption. “Thank you,” he said, aud staled— stared at his visitor, wondering for the ^ moment what her business with him could Mechanically ' he placed a chair for her. “I have come about some typewriting,” •aid she, hesitatiuglv. Ravmoud started. He remembered now .‘ This, however, xv&s not the kind of typewriter with whom be usually dealt, The Toccoa News. Two women who had done work for him were angular and hard-featured, ah- rupt in manner, and as careworn as tliev could be. Miss Ramsav was a mere girl, well dressed, slight of figure and prepos- sessing of face. Ilcr complexion was good, her smull mouth prettily formed, her eyes large and lustrous, her hair a pretty brown color, Raymond found himself noting all these points about liis new r typewriter. Suddenly he awoke to the fact that she was waiting for him to speak. “Ye 3 ,” he said, “1 require a volume of short stories typewritten. Unfortunately,” he added, recalling his thoughts of a few miuutes ago, “they are not quite ready. More than one will want doctoring if not rewriting.” “1 might take them one by one,” sug- gested Miss Ramsay. “That would save time. If you have one ready”-- “Yes, that will be our best plan,” in- terrupted Raymond. “And shall 1 do the work here or at home?” she asked. “Which would be the most convenient for you?” inquired Raymond, trying to stifle his personal inclinations as regards the matter. “If you will show me your writing— that is, your MS," said she, frankly, “I can tell you. If it is difficult 1 had best come here; if easy”-- “It is rather difficult,” returned the other. “Perhaps 3*011 had best come and do the work here,” lie added, with quite unconscious eagerness. “The mornings would suit me best.” “Very well,” she said. “Good morn- ing. I will be here to-morrow.” The door closed behind her. Raymond Rose tried to settle down to work again, But lie failed—miserably. Thoughts would not come. The pen scratched and spluttered like a thing in a bad temper, Each story as he tackled it grew worse under bis alterations. However, he made a desperate effort, and completed one ready for the morrow’s typewriting. Then lie- got. up and went for a walk, wondering what«had come to him. The visit of the morning would recur to his mind. Nevertheless, as became a bachelor of thirty, he refused to acknowledge that his comfortableness had been in any way disturbed it. “Absurd!” muttered he. “ The fact is, 1 want a little change- change of air, change of scenery, change of people— change of life.” The last was quite au afterthought. The next morning Miss G. Ramsay arrived—typewriter and all. Raymond gave her the story. She read it through and prepared to set to work. “What do you think of it?" asked Ray- mond. She laughed—very pleasantly. “At any rate, it is not ’sex-maniacal,”’ she said. "No,” replied he. “1 am glad it is not” and began liis own work, lie thought that she did her typewriting very well. When the story was finished he took the liberty of telling her that the work was more than satisfactory, She only replied that she was pleased to hear him say so. After her departure he found himself wondering whether the G before her surname stood for Grace or Georgina. In the days which followed lie learned a good deal of her history. 8 he had come to London with her brother, who was a clerk in a broker’s office and received au annual stipend of eighty pounds. On this, and on what she could earn, they were dependent for their living, for the parents had died, leaving them penniless. It was a common enough tale, yet Raymond Rose considered it remarkably interesting. ij c always asked her what she thought about a story. -Miss Han,say oft,-,, aau- him valuable suggestions,” so he told jd s friends. “j think that your stories improve,” observed Miss Ramsay one morning, “You seem to probe human nature more than you did, and your sentiment is not so artificial.” "'That is due to your influence,” lie re- plied, gallantly and sincerely. The dark, lustrous eyes looked up at him, and her face assumed a half fright- ened expression. Perhaps she caught the true inwardness of his words. At.any rate, that glance t-hiew Raymond Rose into ecstacv. No longer did he doubt liis OW n feeling. The same evening be pondered , ,, deeply. , Here was a mau. with everything to rec- omniend him; a large income, an uuiin- peachable character; a kindly disposition, a heart tilled to the brim with love. And ske ; A typist in straitened circumstances, of quite unknown origin, so far as the world was concerned. True, her brother presented rather an obstacle. But then- The picture of the brother faded from lfls mind. lie saw himself wedded to a pretty wife; his old rooms cheered and brightened by lier abolished; presence; the stale order of things the openiug of new pastures warmed by the dual warmth of kiudred souls. Then, moved by a sudden impulse, he sat down and wrote a story. He wrote of a mau, nobje and good, to whom honor, fame, riches came like the sweet rain from heaven. The man lived. prospered and was comfortable.. He felt. however, that a void existed in his hfe: he knew not its nature, nor how o hi lit Then came a woman, pure and beautiful as the dawn, aud he knew that it was she who was to till that void. So he married her and lived happily ever after. By 2 in the morning lie had finished the storv. He went to rest, feeling that it was the best and the noblest work he had ever done; although it was the unvarn- islied tale of an ordinary man's life. "When Miss Ramsay next appeared her pretty eyes were red aud swollen with weeping. Raymond was horror-struck, Tenderly he bade her be seated aud in- quired the cause of her grief. The tale was soon told, "brother” bad suddenly and unexpectedly lost his em- ployment, through uo fault of his own. His "firm” had coalesced with another ami his services would be no longer re¬ quired. He was to be paid fifty pouuds for his compensation and sent about his business. “You must let me help you, exclaimed Raymond Rose, sympathetically. Then. 0 n a sudden, au idea flashed into Ins mind, flooding it with joy. For the first time in his life he blessed that brother, Would not the catastrophe make thai task easier? The girl was at this moment threatened v*.to destitution. He gave not a thought to the ungenerous side of the questiou. "No,” said be. eagerly, as Miss Ram- TOCCOA, OA THURSDAY, OCTOBER 1805. ! >ay wearily began her typewriting, “1 | don’t wish you to do that to-dav. You ar e in trouble. Here is a new story. I i h rote it last uight. I want you to read if j j and give me your opinion as you always do. I—I want to know whether you eon- j Oder the ending is good.” Mechanically she took the manuscript from his hand. She read it at first with¬ J out understanding its particular import. Then she suddenly became aware that his ; eves were fixed upon her face with a | burning, passionate gaze. “You think it good?” lie queried, as j sin finished. ‘"It ends well, does it not? Miss Ramsay, you arc reading the story of my life, for I love you.” And he came towards her with eyes aglow, never doubting that liis own passion would carry all before it. lie caught her slender wrist and kissed the small hand agaiu and again But she shrank away from him, while her face grew crimson. “Give me time to think. Mr. Rose,” cried she, piteously. “I did not know, indeed, I did uot know. You are good and kind”- Then Raymond lost his head. He stooped and kissed her lips. “You need no time,” he muttered, fiercely. “A'ou are poor, destitute—and 1 love you.” “Let me go now, please.” Raymond started at her tone. Then, seeing that she was in earnest, he opened tlie door for her and stood meekly by while she passed out. Whereupon lie sat down on a chair with an indistinct sense ,,f having done something very foolish. “I have made a mistake,” lie said, wearily to himself. “But she will come round. A sensible woman such as she is will uot refuse an offer of that sort.” But although Raymond had written of women, and lmd made capital out of his writings, be had quite failed to grasp the fact that the sex is a strangely delicate organism, liable to be thrown out of gear by the faintest discordant movement. Three days later there came a letter— Dear Mr. Rose: I have come to the con- elusion that the end of your story was, so far as 1 am concerned, incorrect. Owing t 0 the kindness of an old friend, my brother has obtained a little work, which will suffice to keep us from starvation. This and other considerations, which you will doubtless understand, induce me to dc- dine your no doubt kindly-meant offer of three days since. Yours sincerely, Grace Ramsay. Raymond Rose cast the letter upon the floor and said had words, cursing in turn die various classes of typists, brothers, and “old friends.” Then he packed a portmanteau and went to Switzerland for Ids long-contemplated change of air. He climbed the Matterhorn and sailed down i| 1( . Lucerne, coming back after one month’s traveling to bis old rooms and to i.j s old comfortable ways.also to some old friends, who declared that he never looked so W ell in his life, CONGRESSMAN’S OWL. A Friend Sends Him One for a Mock¬ ing Bird. “Did you ever hear about the Bra- Lilian mocking bird that Congress- ma n-elect John P. Tracy, of the g - held (Mo.) district once ^ ” nqked Jack Carr at the a „ t rs recently. ; ) Well ’„ I'll tell nd\vas vou about it } . SDrin fiel(1 a ,'fff troine "I to ‘ lI d J ™ a lexas mockin , bird and send it to to imi .' e saK 11S *. e ,? a< , »<* , alul he thought , . I , could get it for «■>«; lmn. . , promiset o do best, 1 ^ ie so-called lexas mocking bird is larger than the northern product and has along scissors—like tail with a large white spot on each division of it. It is much easier to domesti- cate than the native of the Northern States, and its tones when it sings ar e more mellow. When I struck Paris, Tex., 1 went to see a friend of mine who had, I knew, several fin© specimens. I told him what I want- ec p a nd he showed ine several birds and then asked me which one wanted. I told him I wanted a j, ’ ir r ' t one be baf j He took me into a rear room and said he would show me a Brazilian bird that beat the Texan all to pieces. Then he brought out a cage in which was the largest owl I ever saw. Every feather on its body was pure white, and when stretched out its wings measured over two and a half feet from tip to tip. I saw the joke and at once decided to send it—the owl—to Tracy. “ I boxed the bird up and took it to the express office .Then I decorated the box with all sorts of bottle labels, hieroglyphics of different kinds and other mysterious symbols and sent it to ff raC ges" y, He paid or $4 express 0 h ar on it—you know it takes f^ss-and n mi hle ohirrres to ^end live stock bv took the box home. .. NVel| he made the best of it and k the bird and in time be . . H had ' ‘ ‘ a bali /™ d , s Cached , , , to , its .. leg , so that it could not fly. It could walk easily, however, and for a long time the owl had the freedom of Tracy s house and yard. ‘ One night the bird grew thirsty and hopped on to the edge of a bar— rel that stood under a spout at a cor— nerof the house He lost his balance and fell in and the ball followed.He tried to get out but could not fly with the ball attached to his leg. so he was drowned. The Congressman has n0 {- y e t, secured a genuine Texas mocking bird.” As Good as Bullet Proof Shields. It appears " that the comparatively to which the Tananese _ ^ j the Manchurian 1 en^a•re- ments in the recent war with China were not altogether due to the bad marksmanship of the Chinese. Asa means of protection against the cold, the Japanese wore a quantity of flosi silk under their outer clothing, and this acted more or less as ft bullet* proof shield. WOMAN’S WORLD, PLEASANT LITER V 1TRK FOR F K >11N INK REARE KS. INCREDIBLE SUMS FOR SUFFERS. The London West EuT Shoemaker lately mentioned that almost luciet 1 1 . - ble Bums are sometimes expended on slipper- - , lhus, not long ago a couu- tess lia 1 a pair ma le, ornamented with rubie.-, emeralds and diamond.-, oos.- ing 822,500. But at a marked b.Jl given by the Duke of Manchester some years ago a lady impersona ing ”*n- derella wore a pair of slippers adorned with jewelry valued at over $6b,000. AMERICAN WOMEN’S VOICES. The voice of the average woman about us is not pleasant; it is not round and flute-like said Dr. G, AY. Shirnrn in a recent address. A harsh, strident quality is taking the place of the low, soft, rich quality which be¬ longs to them, and which all might have if they sought it. One reason is the lack of proper training as girls grow up. and another is the odd habit many have of talking each other down, not waiting for the completion of sen- tence c ", but piling up unfinished een- tences, and unconsciously raising the voice in the effort to do eo. THE QUEEN IS LIBERAL. All the English papers are talking the cashmere shawl, the jeweled bracelet and other costly presents which Miss McNeill received from the Queen and royal family on the occa¬ sion of her marriage to the Duke of Argyll* near fifty years her senior. Not one of them, however, makes mention of the fact that the Queen, in accordance with traditional custom and usage, furnished the trousseau of the biide besides presenting her -with a check for $5000. The Queen does this for each of her maids of honor or bedchamber women that may happen to wed with Victoria’s consent during their term of office, and Princess Louise’s new mother-in-law is no ex¬ ception to the rule.—Chicago Tribune. THE alpaca fetticoat. With many people the alpaca petti- coat is taking the place of the silk one on account of its wiriness, which makes it more efficient than the silk in hold- ing out the wide skirts which fashion decrees women shall wear ibis seasoD, and also because it assists in keeping the effect of a tight tit about the waist and the many godets at the feet. A deep flounce at the bottom of the pet- ticoat, instead of steels, has a little hair cloth in the hem. Often these alpaca skirts must be worn with lawns and batistes, in which case they are of white alpaca, and an extra flounce of lawn edged with Valenciennes lace is Vested * on the alpaca flounce. This ‘’as the thin gown a beautiful fouu- aation and keeps the extreme fashion- able cut more nearly perfect.—St. Leuis Star-Sayings. THE NEWEST MATEKIALS. Butcher’s linen, in a sort of medium f, «te, is one of the new materials for Umg suits. Puck, in a mixture of silk and Jen, is used for this purpose, but aits made of this material are expeu- )o. Rique is still the rage, and al- ■lough stiff and not always becoming, Assesses a certain style of its own in ; vts crisp, natty freshness. Changeable mohair is the latest , png for skirts and dress lining; it Sb au excellent substitute for silk when that material is found too expensive. This mohair is of light weight and sufficiently wiry to set out the dress. Rustle cambric is another excellent dress lining, and although of closer texture, resembles greatly the old old-fashioned paper cambric once used. The soft finished percaline is quite out as it is useless as long as the present fashion of inflated skirt con¬ tinues. HEROIC DOLLY MADISON. The march of improvement in that part of Washington formerly known as Georgetown, and older by many years than other parts of the city, ha; compelled the destruction of the tomb of Benjamin Homans, in the old Pres- bvterian Cemetery, in connection with whom Dolly Madison’s heroic feat in 1814 was performed. Homans was Chief Clerk of the War Department during the War of 1812, and at the time the British invaded the capital, upon his own responsibility, he sent two wagon loads of documents to the canal-boat of Captain Daniel Collins, and placed two arrne 1 soldiers on guard, telling them to allow no one to come on board. A little later a beau- tiful lady, who proved to be Dolly Madison, drove down to the boat and gave one of the crew a trunk, telling him to take great care of it, and that he should be rewarded. Among the articles in the trunk *M the canvas of Peale’s portrait of Washington, then hanging in the White House, but now in the Senate wing of the Capi- tol. Then Homans gave the order to Sherwood to take tho boat, up the caual and not wait for the captain, who had gone to Washington. The boat, accordingly, was headed for a point near the Hominy House, a well- known establishment in those days, and in the barn there the documents were stored until danger was passed, That night the Capitol was burned, and the documents saved were among the most valuable belonging to the Nation —Argonaut. LOTS OF CHOICE IN SKIRTS. Fashion is anything but arbitrary this season, and, if you except sleeves, Is about as democratic a go as-you- i-lease dame as you ever encountered, ’i’bsre are the skirts for instance. Anything from ft three gore to » nine may be worn, and its wearer countel “stylish,” if she has that indefinable something about her, the lack of which would render any gown not stylish. Then there are skirts with no gores at all. dust six or seveu breadths of wide material sewed up and fastened to a band. Of course, such dresses are of the sheerest rna- t-eirial, like organdy and swiss and mil]If which do not take kindly to rDUC k “goring,” since they must be made U p without lining. Most charm- j u _ dresses arc made of these thin ma- t e rials, the skirts having only a wide j, era> and t^e waists stopping under a crU sh Belt of the same, are of plainly ma£le overhanging blouse pattern with ft bit of Jace at the wrist aQ(1 throat. The under slip is usually of some tinted material, satine or silesia, with a simple foot ruffle and a rounded throat with elbow sleeves, A thin gown like that is cheapness itself, and a child might launder it. It is only when the thin goods is made up with silk linings and perishable lace trim¬ mings that such dresses become so amazingly costly. Very few women seem to realize that a plainly made gown, which looks easy enough to be comfortable, and airy enough to be cool, while perhaps being neither, will give to those who look at her the idea that she is both, and the immediate tem¬ perature is thereby lowered a degree or two. A tailor-made gown, by the very closeness of its fit and trimness of make, carries a suspicion of warmth, even though it be of the thinness of lightweight woolens.— Washington Star. FASHION NOTES. Just now thecraze is for black skirts in almost everything. Henrietta cloth is shown this season in more than forty shades. No cotton gown seems finished with¬ out ribbon somewhere about it. White challies and crepons are good materials for use in the autumn. Wiry vigoureux mixtures |goods are the most useful and popular for bi¬ cycling. All French gowns now fasten at the back, and skirts and sleeves are wio.er than ever. Some of the new black hose are shot W1 ^ different colored silks. Some of tb e tan color aro also shot with green, p,| ue or r0 se. p or country use and tenuis are some na little outin g boots laced with silk corfl and finished with finely cor- ° ated soles . The newest setting for diamonds ■, is . white enamel. Ibis enhances the brilliancy ot the stone and the setting hardiy shows, Cashmere coloring, a soft blending of many colors and a tendency to the designs found in old cashmere shawls, is just now popular, The favorite foot covering just now is the Juliet or Diana shoe, with a graceful instep, elastic sides and a shapely yet solid heel. A dainty little cape has a heavy pat- tern cut out of black silk, jet edged and appliqued on to black net, the whole being mounted over violet silk. A velvet ribbon, edged with a fine single row of cut jet spangles, makes an effective and becoming flat garni- ture for silk aud silk and wool gowns, The latest thingjn dress gloves for women is an exact copy of a man s dress glove. It is of heavy white kid, and buttons with two big pearl but¬ tons. The latest fashion is to discard paper for walls and hang the rooms with cretonne, satin cloth, pongee, holland, denim and, in fact, any ma terial but paper. As must be the case when large hats are favored, leghorns in both black and white are freely shown. High- crown leghorns are very desirable and more picturesque than those of seasons past. Visiting card cases made of petunia colored satin or pomegranate hues of moire silk bound with tiny clasps of silver or silver gilt are very pretty. They are lined with pale heliotrope or tri-colored silk to suit varied tastes. An entirely new design of capes is made to reach to the elbow aud flare straight to the collar. Its foundation is changeable taffeta silk, and it is fin- ished at the edge with a thick rose rushing, the edges of the ruching be- iug pinked but. The two extremes in size are evident seagon i n the hats and bonnets, one being very large and the other correspondingly small. Between these j. wo extremes lie the toque shapes and sma }i ru und hats that will be much worn f OT ear ' ly ' spring, GreeQ ig & color that has recently bold OQ tbe f aDcy G f the well dregsed} yet jt bids fair to enjoy con- tinUftd f avo r, and for the afternoon at bome or a smar t calling suit noth- | dU * jt e takes precedence of a well- ba lt s rseI , ve | Tet toilet, A visiting . gown is of tan crepon a sdk thread “ the war P’ Ih f be dice has a short circular . yoke , of yellow satin with butter colored lace over it. Three rows of narrow yellow ribbon velvet are run lhrou ?b the meshes of tho mce to form the choker or crush - The latest thing in table embroid- eries is the celery doily. It is long and narrow, like the low glass diehes, and the edge all round is finished in irregular scallops. On the length ol the doily at each side, near the bor- der, is worked a design of a celery leaf spray. During the thirty years that Ains- worth F. Spoflord has -iad charge ol the Congressional Library at \\ ash- mgton the number of books un ier his charge has grown from 70,000 to <U0,- WHEN COTTON BALES COME IN, So the cotton bale* arc coming, ami thcy’l soon be with inhere. When the streets will all be .elmldened will the white Bloom of the Year! From the boats an l cars and wagons will arise a rhythmic din. And the world will he a-blossom when the cotton bales corue in! The world will be the whiter, Our hearts will all be lighter. And prospects loom the brighter, When the cotton bales come in' In the upland fields and bottoms, like a spreading Summer snow. Old King Cotton's been a-dreaming of the happy time to go. For he'll bless a hundred Nations, and above the roar and din, He will hear the people’s blessings, when the cottou bales come in! The earth will glimmer newer, And bosoms beat the truer, While skies will beam the bluer, When the cotton bales come in! —Will T. Hale, in Memphis Commercial. HUMOR OF THE DAY. Many people delude themselves into tliiukiug that, laziness is poor health. — llam’s Horn. He—“I can tell a woman’s age, no matter how old she is.” She — “You must be a brute.”—Puck. Magistrate —“Now tell me why you stole that watch.” Prisoner—“Oh, just to while away the time.”—Phila¬ delphia Record. “Help ! Help !” cried the man who was being robbed. “Calm yourself,” said the highwayman. “I don’t need any assistance.”—Town Topics. Adolphus—“Why, Ethel, are you looking at mo so intently?” Ethel (dreamily) — “I was gazing at vacan¬ cy, Dolly.”—Boston Transcript. Manager —“Yes, wo advertised for a night watchman.” Applicant — “Then I’m just the ono for the place. The slightest noise will wake me up.” Customer—“These trousers don’t sit just right about the hips.” Tailor — “They’re all right—what you need is something more in the pockets. ”—• Chicago Record. A. — “Have you ever heard the eight- year-old violin player who is creating such a sensation?” B. — “Oh, yes! I heard hitn in Berlin twelve years ago I” —Ephemere Comique. Alphonse—“You never hear of women cashiers running off with their employers’ money.” Henri—“Not often ; but when it does happen they take the employer too.” Old Girl—“You say that you would hustle after a man?” “New Girl— “Yes, certainly.” “Why do such an unseeming thing?” “To reduce my wait.”—Adams Freeman. “I’ve an idea in my head,” exclaimed young Mr. GosliD. “But are you quite sure that you can distinguish between ideas and wheels?” asked Miss Kittish.—Detroit Free Press. He—“What a pity that Miss Vere de Vere should have lost her good name.” She (greatly shocked)—“In heaven’s name, what do you mean?” He—“Why, marrying a man named Jones, of course. ” “We must fly,” said Murat to Na¬ poleon, on one occasion when the bat¬ tle had gone sorely against them. “It is impossible,” replied the latter. “The enemy has destroyed both wings of the army.”—Harper’s Bazar. Visitor—“I don’t hear that awful piano upstairs?” Bagley—“No, they don’t play it any more.” Visitor— “What’s the matter?” Bagley—“I’ve bought a deerhouud which howls every time he hears music.”—Chicago Record. School Teacher—“If you had your choice, Willie, would you rather be as wise as Solomon, as great as Julius Caesar, as rich as Croesus, as eloquent as Demosthenes or as tall as Goliath?” Willie—“I’d rather be a drummer in a brass band!” They were driving together, when Miss Rocks, unsolicited, gurgled forth her views upon matrimony, “Love is a dreary desert,” she said, “and mar- riage an oasis.” Whereupon Mr. Shyly remarked that “it certainly did require a deal of sand.” Weary Business Man (hanging to strap) — “Why in creation don’t you run more cars?” Street Car Presi¬ dent—“My dear sir, it would pain me exceedingly to deprive courteous gen¬ tlemen like yourself of the privilege of giving up a seat to a lady.” “Our side is going to spring some unlooked-for disclosures on you,” said a lawyer to one of the opposing at¬ torneys. ‘-‘We’ve been expecting some unlooked-for disclosures,” was the re¬ ply, “so you’ll not take us unawares.” —Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph. “Jeremiah,” said Mr. Jingle’s wife, as that gentleman came home some¬ what late, “you don’t write me touch¬ ing apostrophes as you use to.” “No,” replied Mr. Jingle, “and you didn’t used to talk question marks and exclamation points as you do now.” — Washington Star. A I ncky 6al,y ‘ A freight tram of ten cars was side- tracked at Woodstock, Va., the other day to allow a passenger to pass. As tbe trftiu came to a standstill the con- ductor caught sight of something moving on the track just behind the last c»r, and was surprised to see an eighteen-months old child come crawl- ing out from under the car. It proved to be the baby of a farmer, who lived close track by. when It the was train evidently^ came aiong, on and the the entire train had passed over it without doing it any injury. It had fallen down between the ties.—New Orleans Picayune. Tbere is not on earth a more merci¬ less exactor of love from others than a thoroughly selfish woman, NO. 61. CHILDREN'S COM'MX. THE SECRET OE SUCCESS. On? day in bueklel>erry-tlme, when little Johnny Flails And half-a-dozen otlmr boys wore starting with their pails To gather l*errio3. Johnny's pa, in talking with him, said That he could teli him how to pick so he’d come out ahead. "First find your bush," said Johnny's pa. •"and then Nick to it till You've picked it clean. Let those go chas¬ ing all about who will In search of bettor bushes; but it’s picking toll, my sou— To look at fifty bushes doesn't count like picking one.” And Johnny did as he was told ; and, sure enough, be found, By sticking to his bush while all the others chased around In search of better picking, 'twas as liis father said; For. while all the others looked,ho worked, and so came out ahead. And Johnny recollected this when lie be¬ came a man; And first of all he laid him out a well de¬ termined plan; So, whi,e the brilliant iriflers failed with all their brains and push. Wise, steady-going Johnny won by “stick¬ ing to his bu3h ” —Nixon Watermen in St. Nicholas. HE SAW TOO MUCH. As a rule, au employer requires the person he employs to be bright and acute at all times, and when nu em¬ ploye is discharged it is generally for not keeping his eyes open. It occa¬ sionally happens, however, that an employe sees too much for his own good, ns in the case of the Virginia planter who hired a field hand. One d iy the plnnter came along and accosted the new hand: “Did you see a coach go down the road a while ago?” “Indeed I did, sir. One of the horses was a gray horse, and the other was a roan and lame in the leg.” “I thought that I heard some liuut- ers there on the edge of the woods?” “Yes,sir. One of them was Colonel Jones. He was the tall one. The second one was Major Peters, and the third one was Tom McKee. Colonel Jones had one of thoso new-fangled breech-loading gnus that break in two. ” “Did you see those wild pigeons fly over just now?” “See ’em! Guess I did! There were nineteen of ’em. They lit in that cornfield down yonder. ” “Well, you aeo too much for a man that is hired by tho day. Here’s your wages, When I want a man to keep watch of what is going on, I’ll send for you.”—Atlanta Constitution. A FIGHTING FISH. But the Paradise fish, in addition to being ornamental, has some very in¬ teresting ways. The male builds the nest, which is quite right and proper, but he builds it of bubbles! Rather frail building material,you may think, aud not apt to endure very long. It does very well, however, for the bub¬ bles forming in the slime which sur¬ rounds the eggs are quite lasting, aud by constantly adding fresh ones the fish keeps the nest in a fair state of repair. The young are nearly trans¬ parent, and floating beneath the bub¬ bles they are quite invisible to their enemies aboye the water. From the time the eggs are laid un¬ til the young fish are large enough to take care of themselves, their father guards them agaiust their hundreds of enemies beneath the surface, among which is their own mother. This un¬ natural parent would devour her off¬ spring as greedily us she would a wriggler, were it not for the vigilance of her mate, who tukes very good care that she does not get an opportunity. Between guarding his children, whigU are mini ered somewhere in the hun¬ dreds, aud keeping his somewhat flimsy nest in repair, he is a very much occupied fish. With a very business-like air he flirts himself about, now rising to get a mouthful of nir to release in bubbles below his nest to mend a break, now dashing after and sciziug one of his ruuaway children, or rushing, with a degree of ferocity all out of proportion to his size, upon some finny raider But he is utterly depraved himself, and if he gets the chance he will kid¬ nap half a dozen of bis neighbor’s family to increase his own ; so, when the nests are close together, there is a perpetual warfare going on between the proprietors. He is very pugna¬ cious, and there is no discretion coupled with quality, for he displays as much readmessto attack and devour me, sketching outfit and all, if I ap¬ proach too closely, as he would a May-fly. But his disposition is not half as bad as that of one of his cou¬ sins; for there is a species of the same genus, called Butta puguax, which is cultivated in Siam for its name fighting qualities.—St- Nicholas, '
