Newspaper Page Text
A Need Satisfied.
BY VIRGINIA LORING.
I lacked five years of my two-seore
.iud-ten. and was living alone in the
;n ug little house left me by my father,
just on the outskirts of London. The
house, a few valuable articles of plate
and some £SOOO constituted all ray
vorldly goods. I kept them all under
Q y own personal surveillance. Of
tanks I had ray own opinion, and I
luew a far safer place for my little
h>ard than intrusting it to strange and
isrhaps dishonest men.
1 was sitting one afternoon in my
tretty little drawing room, revolving
n my mind the improvement a little
paint and wall paper might be, and at
the same time unwilling to expend the
necessary sum. when my neat little
maid-servant announced that a gentle
man had called to see me.
1 took a hasty glance in the mirror
to convince myself that my hair was
in order and my cap-ribbons on the
proper angle, when his shadow dark
ened the threshold.
1 glanced up; 1 fear I blushed. His
dark" eyes were fixed so penetratingly
upon me that mine fell beneath their
glance. I had caught but a passing
glimpse of the handsome face and tall,
manly form, but dared not look again.
“You will pardon me, madam —” he
began.
“Not madam,’’ I interrupted; “Miss
Loring.’’
“Miss Loring,” he repeated after me.
“I ventured on the madam, because I
thought it could not be possible Miss
(x>ring could have been permitted to
retain that prefix she so evidently pre
fers."
Presumptuous it may have been in
a stranger, but spoken in a low, musi
cally modulated voice, it did not pre
sent itself to me in the right light.
I instantly tried to remember all the
heroes I had read of in the romances
1 procured from the library, and to de
termine which one of them he most re
sembled.
■ There was one great void which
heretofore had always existed in my
Bfe —a romantic adventure.
Bsingular as it may seem, I had never
Bid one. My heart began to palpitate
B I thought that possibly the need
BFould now be satisfied.
F “I almost hesitate to make known to
'you the cause of my visit, lest you
should regard it in the light of an im
pertinent intrusion,” he continued;
“but in passing by your house, I no
ticed the upper room in your back
| building, which is peculiarly adapted
for a studio. I am an artist and in
search of just such an apartment, for
which I am willing to pay a most lib
eral price. I shall occupy it only dur
ing a few' hours each day. If Miss
Loring will not accede to my request,
will she not at least pardon it?”
He bowed low/ and deferentially be
fore me. My brain w’as in a whirl,
iWhat could his proposition mean?
Clad he seen me and made this a pre
text to know' me? I could not tell. I
■ared not trust myself as yet to give a
■tecided answer.
B‘l will think the matter over,” I
Mid and I fear there was a slight
tWtoiulousness in my tone. “If you will
tomorrow I will let you know my
Bcision.”
| “I will leave you my card, then,”
Be replied, drawing his cardcase from
his pocket, and placing a delicately en
graved card on the table. “I am quite
willing to pay a pound a week, and if
you accede to my request, I shall con
sider myself indeed your debtor.”
I rose and courtesied as he bowed
himself out. A pound a week! It was
munificent. I need no longer study
ways and means as to paint and wall
paper. I should be able to do all that
I had planned, and more. Why, then,
ibould I hesitate? Why had I not
Bid yes at once? Perhaps he never
Bould return.
■My heart sank at the thought, to a
no mere pecuniary loss could
Have entailed upon it.
■ Had this stranger, then, made an
Bipression upon that susceptible por-
Bon of my anatomy? He looked
Branger than my real age—but what
Bf that? Doubtless I looked far
Bounger than my years.
I At the last taking of the census I
Bad given my age at 28, and, further
Bhan a slight elevation of his eyebrow’s,
■he census taker showed not the
■lightest surprise. I thought after-
Bards the movement was a nervous
■flection, and was sorry that I had not
Broposed a specific cure.
SI took up the card from the table.
Bt bore the name of Algernon Vernon.
[ Algernon! I might have known he
L rnuld possess such a name!
B',l tried In vain to rivet my wander
thoughts upon the latest romance.
I Nothing Its pages contained equaled
Bis new and absorbing element in my
Be. All my doubts concerning my re-
had fled.
■On the morrow I would accede to Mr.
Bernon’s request. Not even the
Belghbors could find food for gossip,
Basmuch as he would occupy the room
B n ly during a few daylight hours.
■ But why had he selected mine? The
Bouses on either side of the street were
|of the same construction. Evidently
■he had a motive other than appeared
■"n the surface for wishing to gain an
1' ntree Into my humble abode.
I Next day found be in a state of ner-
I'ous agitation lest he should disap
point me; but there was no occasion
for it
1 Promptly on the hour of the day pre
ceding he arrived, and I made known
Bio him my acquiescence in his propo
rtion; but this time he drew a chair
Before the fire at my request, and we
Bad quite a social and very pleasant
■hat.
He would not remove all his artist
belongings at present, he said. He
was engaged on one work which par
ticularly occupied him, and which he
hoped to fitiisn in time for the Royal
Academy; after that he might have a
request to make of me. Had I ever
been told by artists that my profile
was a study ?
Ah, he meant, then, to ask me to
paint my picture! What a triumph
over that horrid Williamson girl, who
had said that one day, not far off, my
nose and chin would meet! Evidently
she did not un\ rstand true art,
1 have such a trick of blushing. I
never can get over it. I blushed now.
and murmured that any request Mr.
\ ernon might make I was sure I
would be but too glad to comply with.
Then he rose to go, but before doing
so he placed a one-pound note in my
hand.
“Invariably in advance. Miss Lor
ing,” he said, almost apologetically.
It is a rule from which I never devi
ate.”
The next day he came. He brought
with him nothing but the picture on
which he was at work, his paints and
easels, and one or two wooden models.
Of course I never intruded upon him
at his work, but he grew into the hab
it, as he passed the open door of the
sitting room, to drop in and talk with
me.
One afternoon, when he had lingered
over his painting longer than His wont,
and seemed more tired, I asked him to
stay and take a cup of tea with me.
I could not but see how gladly he
consented. Of course did my guest all
honor. With my own hands I drew the
old heirlooms from their covers and
placed them on the table. With par
donable pride I ushered him into the
room.
“Are you not afraid to live alone,
Miss Loring.” he asked, “with so much
valuable silver?”
“Oh, no!” I answered; “I keep it in
a safe built in the wall, and sleep with
the key under my pillow. No one
would think of looking for it there.”
And then I went on to explain to
him my horror of banks, and now
much of my worldly goods I preferred
to have under my personal supervi
sion.
“It is not safe,” he insisted. “I wish
I had the right to refuse to allow you
to run such risk.”
With what tenderness he uttered the
last sentence! To what was it the
prelude? It must not come upon me
too suddenly. I could not bear the
fullness of its ecstacy. but I no longer
doubted what for long I had suspected
—Algernon’s heart was mine.
As he bade me good night he held
and pressed my hand. I fear my head,
in spite of the injury to my cap, fell
one brief instant on his manly
shoulder. I heard something like a
sigh; then he tore himself away. I
was again alone.
The next day I did not see him on
his way to the studio. Two men were
with him, so he could not stop. They
were rather rough-looking men—evi
dently models. Shortly after one of
them passed down (the stairs and went
out. Then Algernon came.
“Where is your visitor?”! asked.
“They have both gone,” he said.
I thought it strange 1 had not seen
the other man pass, but soon Alger
non’s presence made me forget all
else; only ho seemed distrait and ill at
ease.
Perhaps I had been too cold, too dis
tant, and so had wounded his noble
heart. I silently swore to throw off
the mask of maiden modesty, and
show him more of the true heart which
beat but for him. Before, however, I
had gotten my courage to the point,
he had gone.
I sat alone for two, perhaps three
hours, until the twilight fell. Then a
sudden desire assailed me to go up and
look at the progress of his work. I
had not seen the picture since the day
it came, and he had been with me a
fortnight.
Softly I opened the door. The pic
ture was on its easel, covered with a
cloth. The cloth I gently raised, but
I could discover on the canvas no
change. Doubtless, lost in thought of
me, Algernon had striven in vain to
pursue his art.
I sank into a chair and gave myself
up to sweet reverie, when suddenly I
started. A loud and violent sneeze
sounded close beside me. I sprang to
my feet and looked about the room. It
was empty, save for the two wooden
models and myself.
One of these models Algernon had
evidently been copying, since he had
dressed it in the brigand hat and coat
he kept for that purpose, and which
he once had shown me.
A great terror assailed me; I
searched every corner of the room. In
vain —I could discover nothing.
At last I went out, but taking the
key from the door 1 locked it behind
me. On my way down stairs I caught
a glimpse of Jenny’s (my maid of all
work) young man, escaping through
the back door.
I did not approve of followers, but
Jenny was so good and faithful that I
sometimes had to shut my eyes to the
somewhat frequent visits of the young
butcher, who evidently intended her to
share his lot. Somehow my recent
fright made the presence of a man,
even the butcher, a thing to be de
sired.
“Tom!” I called. He came back,
bowing awkwardly. “I don’t mind if
you stay to tea,” I said. “I had a little
fright just now’, and I'm nervous. I’d
feel better to know you were in the
kitchen, within call ”
THE WEEKLY NEWS. CARTER9VILLE. GA.
“Thank ye, miss! but I can’t stay to
night, and ye needn’t be nervous, for
I’m just after seeing Mr. Vernou look
ing out of the studio window.”
“Mr. Vernon has been gone two
hours,” I said.
“Well, certainly it was some one else
in the studio, for I certainly saw a
man's head by the window when I
came in, a half hour ago.”
His assertion made me doubly ner
vous.
“It is very strange.” I said; and then
I told him what had happened.
“Let me go up and look, Miss Lor
ing,” he suggested.
Consenting, I led the way, but stood
back that he might enter alone —Jenny
meanwhile bringing up the rear.
It was now quite dark. Tom struck
a light The room was silent and
empty.
Had some ghost been playing us
tricks? Doubtless if Tom had had
only my story he would have been at
once satisfied that my imagination
only was at fault. As it was, he looked
about him puzzled and perplexed. Sud
denly he made a spring forward.
“Don't, don't!” I cried. “You will
disturb the model!”
But too late. He already had
clutched it by the throat, and, to my
intense consternation and amazement,
it, too, became endued with animal
life.
For a few moments the two struggled
for the mastery, Jenny and I mean
while screaming at the top of our
lungs; but before the police arrived
Tom had bound the man’s hands, and
stood triumphant over his prostrate
form.
He soon made piteous confession.
It was not his fault. He had been
hired to open the door at midnight to
Mr. Algernon Vernon, and was to as
sist in carrying off the booty.
“Mr. Algeron Vernon?” I gasped.
The fellow smiled a hideous smile.
“Yes, miss,” he said. “His real
name is Jake Brown, however. He said
there’d be no trouble in fooling the
old woman, and that he had a sure
thing of it.”
The old woman! I would almost
rather they had taken my silver and
my bonds. Algernon! Algernon! Still
my heart echoes the desolate cry! Still
it is empty! Jake Brown!
I yet believe the name, at least, was
basest slander on the part of his ac
complice, whose term of imprisonment
has just expired.
Algernon escaped detection; but I
have the wooden models and the un
finished painting (judges pronounce it
a chromo) to recall the one romantic
episode in a old maid’s life. —Saturday
Night.
QUAINT AND CURIOUS.
In Japan poor children have labels
with their names and addresses hung
around their necks, as a safeguard
against being lost.
Congress is said to contain one
member who is opposed to all legisla
tion on the ground that there are al
ready too many laws in existence. He
favors repealing laws alreadly exist
ing.
Elongated ear-lobes are considered a
mark of beauty in Borneo. Girls with
this feature reaching down to their
elbows are not uncommon.
The British Medical Journal says that
a valuable ram. the property of a
grazier in New South Wales, lost its
front teeth, and being unable to nibble
satisfactorily, was slowly dying from
semi-starvation. The services of a
dentist were secured and artificial
teeth were inserted so successfully that
the ram is now thriving as well as
ever.
When General Wolfe fell on the
plains of Abraham, before Quebec, in
the war known to Americans as the
French and Indian war, the regiment
with which he had long been identi
fied, the Forty-seventh Loyal North
Lancashire regiment, went into mourn
ing, and has not abandoned it in the
nearly a century and a half since. The
officers still wear black blended with
their gold braid.
In India. China, Japan and adjacent
countries are about 400,000,000 people
who rarely eat meat; yet they are
strong, active and long lived. Darwin
is authority for the statement that
the Andean natives perform twice the
work of ordinary laborers, and sub
sist almost entirely on a diet of ban
anas.
The Isar river is one of the curiosi
ties of Munich. Bavaria. It is chiefly
noted for running rapidly and for be
ing nowhere near the battlefield of
Hohenllnden, the poet to the contrary
notwithstanding. It is a river some
times white as milk, at others green a
grass, and it is probably the only river
of its size in the world which has no
boats on it. Nor may one bathe in it
on account of the swiftness of the cur
rent. Its principal use seems to be for
people to drown themselves in; but it
also serves a real purpose, because its
waters are diverted to flush sewers.
After performing this service the
waters run as babbling brooks in the
city park and are utilized by the wash
erwoman for laundry purposes.
Keitoration of the Moose.
Thirty years and more have passed
since the kingly moose was driven,
through lack of proper protection,
from his grand ancestral home in the
forests of the Adirondacks; and now,
after this long lapse, the royal exile
is about to be reinstated in his ancient
domain. No project will be watched
by sportsmen with keener interest;
nor has there ever been a movement
set on foot relative to the wild game
which means so much to so many.—
Field and Stream.
PROBLEMS OF TIIE RICH.
THE DIFFICULTIES WHICH BESET THE
AMERICAN MILLIONAIRE.
K<if|)iii|> |’p h ji K Hon*, hold—A Modern
i'liilHnthrupic Movement \\ Inch Hun
I’lnced a l inden on the Wealthy Man
ot Today—Yankee Millionaire the lienl.
There is nothing—not even books
and constitutions —that gives us a
clearer and quicker insight Into the
political and social conditions of a
time or country than do the manners
and habits of rich men. Throughout
Europe some hundreds of years ago,
when a man had accumulated great
wealth he at once built himself a
strong castle, with a moat around it,
in order to protect himself from the
attacks of his neighbors. The develop
ment of lawful government has no
more striking illustration than that to
be found in the gradual change from
this style of architecture to that
which marks the palatial abodes of
wealth today.
It still occurs that a man’s house Is
the surest indication of the extent of
his wealth. From the earliest times
men of great riches have had to exer
cise considerable ingenuity in expend
ing their incomes. Few men are con
tent to be secretly and unobstrusively
rich. The pleasure of possession
breeds the desire for display, so the
wealthy man of today puts his money
into tangible visible property, that
people may see and envy. And his
buildings, open to the world in all
their beauty and magnificence, form,
probably, the best illustrations of the
good of civilization and the omnipo
tency of law and government.
But, relieved from the bane of
power that formerly went with wealth,
and with his greater freedom and
liberties, it can hardly be said that
the rich man of today has reasons to
be happier than he was in the Middle
Ages. He owes vast duties to the
public. The modern philanthropic
movement has laid heavy burdens
upon him. The ethical writers and
the clergy watch his expenditures
closely, and for his errors he is cen
sured publicly and without mercy.
American fortunes are now the
greatest in the world, and the Ameri
can millionaire is far mere interesting
than any other millionaire, because
he faces so many new problems. Our
rich men may be divided into many
classes. The men who have by their
own efforts mastered millions, and
who go on working with unconquer
able energy, are apt to be looked upon
first as great men of business. Those
who retire after a life of hard work
to do deeds of philanthropy form an
other class.
The most interesting from an ethi
cal standpoint are those who find leis
ure and luxury in their wealth. It is
the member of this latter body—we
know it ordinarily as society—who
! faces the unique problem of how, when
and where to spend his money.
In Europe when a man comes of age
and to an inheritance of wealth he
finds settled for him the kind of house
he shall live in. the number of ser
vants and carriages he shall Keep, and
the extent to which he shall entertain.
He inherits his duties. His caste is
settled for him and he knows exactly
what is expected of him.
The American has few established
precedents. He must be his own
model. He may have one servant or
50. He may build mansions at New
port or on the Hudson or live quietly
at a hotel. He is at the task of model
ing his own sphere. When the desire
for display seizes him he builds houses.
The direct personal expenses of the
working American millionaire are of
ten astonishingly small. His greatest
expense is the maintenance of his
great household. This he meets by
handing a blank check book to the
housekeeper. The wives of million
aires are usually free from the worries
of the great establishment, which are
shouldered by a capable and experi
enced woman who receives a big sal
ary. She has charge of the house
and the army of servants and is re
sponsible for every detail in the man
agement o? the establishment.
The expenses entailed in running
the home of a modern millionaire are
vast. In many private American man
sions the kitchen, storage rooms and
systems of service are as complete and
extensive as similar departments of a
great hotel. Fortunes are expended in
furnishings, and the annual cost of
table linen alone aggregates thous
ands of dollars. The feminine portion
of a millionaire’s family are almost
invariably “in society,” and the ex
penses of entertaining form a vast
amount annually. Money is spent
lavishly on every side and excellent
prices are paid for everything.
The modern Social trust is one of
the most beneficial to mankind and to
trade generally. The love of luxury
grows with wealth, and the fast yachts
and special trains of the millionaire
of today outdo in point of pure enjoy
ment the great equipages of the time
of the Roman Empire.
Notwithstanding all that has been
said against him the American million
aire is the best type to be found in the
history of wealth. Almost always he
illustrates the success of hard work.
And what is more important, his mu
nificence and public spirit is some
thing new in the history of the world.
Colleges, schools, hospitals, museums
and libraries owe him much. The
statement that he does only a duty
might Iv' 1 answered by a reference to
his prototypes abroad. Among them
his deeds of charity and philanthropy
are without parallel.—Philadelphia
Record.
A jeweler of Humboldt, Neb., is said
to have built for his own use an au
tomobile which weighs but 149 pounds.
FACTS ABOUT ASPHALT.
Where It 1 Obtained lt* Origin and
Coinuiereini (Jne.
The dspute between two rival Amer
ican corporations over the possession
of La Felicidad, an asphalt lake in
Venezuela, has caused especial inter
est in what an asphalt lake is like
and how asphalt is mined and shipped
to market. Asphalt, or asphaltum, is
the solid form of bitumen. Bitumen
is a generic term which is applied
to a variety of substances, ranging
from natural gas, naphtha, petroleum
and mineral tar to asphalt. The as
phalts of different localities vary great
ly in composition, shown by their
chemical reactions. Nearly all are
amorphorus and have the general ap
pearance of pitch, melting at about
the temperature of boiling water. As
phalt, it is thought by scientists, has
resulted from the hardening of the
naphtha and petroleum elements,
through oxygenation and evaporation.
One of the most interesting asphalt
beds in the world is the pitch lake in
the state of Bermudez, Venezuela.
This valuable deposit was unknown to
American capitalists until 1888, when
an American engineer, Ambrose How
ard Carner, received a title to the
property from the Venezuelan govern
ment. This he sold to the New York
and Bermudez company, which is
closely allied to the so-called asphalt
trust, of which General F. V. Greene
is president. The several square miles
which are included in the concession
obtained has in the last 13 years been
steadily improved. The company has
cleared the Maturin river to naviga
tion, so that deep sea craft from all
quarters of the globe can run in from
the Caribbean sea past the British
possession of Trinidad Island and in
land to the docks of the company at
Guanoco.
The town of Guanoco is the river
terminus of the Bermudez company’s
railroad. Here are hundreds of native
Venezuelans, working under the eye
of an American superintendent The
raw asphalt is brought from the lake,
five miles distant on flat cars, and
shoveled into the holds of the vessels.
At Guanoco this operation is much
simpler than at Trinidad, where light
ers are necessary because of the long
shelving beach of the harbor. The
railroad follows an old Indian trail,
which led from the river to the shores
of the pitch lake. The surface of the
lake is so hard that for some distance
from the shore it supports the weight
of a loaded train. As one looks over
the surface of this great deposit he at
first sees nothing of a striking or un
usual nature. He views only a black
plain, resembling anthracite coal, or
flint, upon which are groups of na
tives working with picks and shovels.
Closer examination, however, shows
that portions of the surface are soft
like tar, whore the asphalt is sticky
and bubbling. Asphalt Is distinguish
able from anthracite not only by its
form, but because it is soluble in bi
sulphide of carbon and benzole. These
pitch pools resemble somewhat the hot
springs of the Yellowstone region.
They slowly cool, and become har
dened after many years. As at Trini
dad. they vary In depth. Some of
them have never been fully sounded,
and are thought by the natives to ex
tend into the bowels of the earth.
Asphalt is used largely in the man
ufacture of cements. It is mixed with
a petroleum residue to render it plas
tic, and i3 then tempered with one
seventh its weight of sand. It also
forms one of the most durable water
proof materials known. For roofing
purposes it is mixed, while hot, with
fine gravel, or is absorbed by thick
rolls of felt paper.
Asphalt is found in many countries.
In Vera Cruz, Mexico, near the village
of Moloasan. is a mountain largely
composed of asphalt. The deposits
at Seyssel, France, and at Val de
Travers, Switzerland, consist of lime
stone impregnated with bituminous
matter, which, when heated, crumbles
to a powder. After it has been pound
ed into molds and is cooled it resem
bles the original rock. Over 1000 miles
of the streets of Paris have been sup
plied from these two localities.
Stared Home for Thirty Years.
Erastus Hall is 65 years of age, and
lives in r.n old-fashioned dwelling 15
miles west of here, on the Danville
and Springfield turnpike, in Washing
ton county, Ky., and. remarkable as
the statement may seem, he has not
crossed the threshold of his own resi
dence for 35 years, notwithstanding
he had always enjoyed the best o!
health. He was born of wealthy paren
tage and received ?. substantial acade
mic education. His father was the
owner of a great many slaves before
the war. the most notable of whom
was “Uncle Henry.” who still lives
at the old homestead with the seclud
ed son of his former master. Erastus
Hall was a sober, industrious young
man, and taught two or three terms
in the public schools of Washington
county.
During the closing days of the civil
war his father and mother both died,
and considerable property was left as
his share of the estate. Among bther
property inherited by him was the
old homestead of his mother.—Cincin
nati Enquirer.
S>U-?B.rlni? C onductor*.
A Washington traction company re
ports that its system of allowing the
conductors to retain from their daily
receipts the amount of their daily
salaries, as well as that of their motor
men. is working quite satisfactorily to
the men and the company alike. Each
conductor in making up his daily re
port deducts a sum sufficient to cover
his own and the. motorman’s salary,
so that the company is thus relieved
of the expense and trouble of making
up a large pay-roll.
AN UNEXPLAINED IMPULSE.
?bt f *<• PsrsoHS to *,*“• When Thy
laxik Down From High Flares.
“The strange temptation to cast
themselves into space which assails
so many people when they look down
from high places is very hard to ac
count for scientifically,” said a well
known neurologist of this city. “It has
undoubtedly been the cause of hun
dreds of cases of self-destruction, yet
it certainly cannot be classed as a
suicidal impulse, because those who
experience it invariably resist with all
their strength and hang back in an
agony of dread and repulsion. They
don’t want to kill themselves, but
some power stronger than will, strong
er even than love of life, draws them
irresistibly over the brink.”
“People with this singular infirm
ity.” continued the doctor, should
never expose themselves to danger,
because the impulse acts automatical
ly and may at any moment pass be
yond control. On one occasion, when
i was considerably younger than I am
at present, I undertook to cure a pa
tient who couldn’t look from a height,
and the experience left an everlasting
impression on my mind. He was a
big, strapping fellow of 35 or so. a
cabinet-maker by trade, and the last
man, apparently, to be bothered by
nervous fancies. I had an idea that by
making him look persistently into
space for a certain length of time each
day l could drive away the dread and
the impulse. So I took him to the top
of a six-story building that had a flat
roof and told him to lie down on his
stomach so only the upper part of hla
face projected over the edge, and look
at the street. He was very reluctant
to try It. ‘l’m afraid to, doctor.’ he
said earnestly. ‘lf I do. my legs will
fly up in the air and I’ll go over sure.’
“ ‘Oh, nonsense.’ I said, laughing.
‘How in the world could your legs fly
up in the air? How can you possibly
fall when your whole body is stretched
out flat on the roof?’
“ ‘I don’t care,’ he insisted, doggedly.
‘T know my legs will fly up in the air
if I try to look over the edge.’
“After a great deal of persuasion I
finally induced him to lie down as I
had directed, telling him to shut his
eyes until he became composed. As
soon as he opened them and looked
into the street a strong shudder ran
through his whole body and I knew he
must be suffering mortal agony, but I
was determined to go through the
lesson, and urged him strongly not to
iraw back. Possibly a minute elapsed,
and then a shocking thing occurred.
Suddenly and without the slightest
warning he seized the edge of the
parapet with both hands, drew his
body violently forward, at the same
time flinging up his legs, and would
undoubtedly have gone over the edge
if I had not thrown myself instantly
on his hack.
“The movement was purely convul
sive and involuntary. He could no
more help it than he could help breath
ing, but it made my blood run cold to
think what might have happened.
How could I have explained myself
had he fallen? I might readily have
been suspected of murder. T dragged
him back and we went down stairs, a
pretty badly agitated couple. Since
then I have tried no more experiments
along that line.” —New Orleans Times-
Democrat.
Toys for English Children.
The ingenuity displayed in the pro
duction of penny toys is marvelous,
novelties coming out nearly every
week. The foreign producers are quite
alive to the fact that a child soon tires
of a plaything, and wants another; so
they keep up a supply of things bright,
novel and ingenious. Moreover, each
toy has its season. As the summer ap
proaches, when children delight to be
out of doors, the Germans send us mu
sical rollers and jinglng cars; and for
the long winter evenings they supply
novel indoor games and intricate puz
zles —amusements for many evenings—
at the cost of one penny. Then the
United States send lead pencils, wood
blocks and colored toy books; the
French, dolls and tin toys, as well aa
all the more expensive articles of this
class.
However much or little the Germans
may have sympathized with the Boers,
the toy manufacturers did not fail to
profit by the struggle. They dressed
dolls in khaki and caricatured Mr.
Kruger—his top-hat and his pipe were
exaggerated, and his teeth extracted.
Were these playthings the outcome of
British malice and English spite? The
answer Is on the toy itself: “Made in
Bavaria.” —Chambers’s Journal.
The Hothouse NoTulliti.
In these modern days when knight
hood is in the seed, a brave survival
has been witnessed in Chicago. Amy
Sasselbery, aged 20, a graduate of the
Indiana normal school, and pretty,
went to Chicago on a shopping trip
and was arrested in a jewelry store,
charged with stealing a diamond ring.
“I am innocent,” she pleaded, but
was taken to a police station and
searched.
The ring was not found. Alone and
friendless she telegraphed to a small
town in Wisconsin, where lived John
Watson, a well-to-do mechanic. She
had once rejected Watson’s addresses.
Watson hurriedly proceeded to Chica
go, procured bail, and married the girl
within an hour after ner release. He
retained counsel, stood by her in court,
saw her triumphantly acquitted, and
took her away to his Wisconsin home.
This incident should furnish a sug
gestion to some of our hothouse novel
ists. —Atlanta Constitution.
In a prayer meeting an exhorter
arose to speak, and begun his remarks
thus: “As I was sitting on a thought,
a seat passed through my mind.”
.—Christian Register.