Newspaper Page Text
Jack Turner looked gloomily out of
the window, his handsome face disfig
ured by a scowl.
"It’s always so. Just as sure as I
have a chance for a good time, some
obstacle arises to prevent it. Howard
hg£ a pass for me, and my trip south
wouldn’t cost me a cent, if only I
had something decent to wear."
Mrs. Turner dropped her work and
sighed.
“It does seem hard, Jack, but 1 real
ly don’t see how to help it. If we
should buy you a summer suit now
you’d have to wear your old suit again
next winter, you know,” she said plain
tively.
“Oh, I known that well enough,
mother, so it isn’t worth while talk
ing about it. It seems to me I’ve
heard of nothing but poverty all my
life. We’re so poor. Job's turkey
wouldn’t associate with us,” he said,
savagely, then stalked from the room
with the air of a martyr.
His sister Doris went on darning
steadily for awhile.
“I’m ever so sorry for poor Jack,”
she said ajt last, a suspicion of tears
In her voice. '‘l wish I could help
him some way. but I’m afraid I can’t
manufacture a suit of clothes for him.
I really do believe .1 could make him
a coat and vest, though, if only I had
■UiS- material You know' I am an ex
pert maker o*f pockets and buttonholes,
and 'you often say my pressing is
equal to a tailor’s.”
Mrs. Turner’s face brightened.
“Yes, ydu are splendid at that kind
of thing, Doris. I think it is a gift;
or perhaps it is only a delicate touch,
a true eye, and unlimited patience.
Whatever the quality may be, I know
I do not possess it. Jack would never
wear a coat made by his mother,” and
she laughed softly at the idea
"Suppose he had a coat and vest,
mother, has ho any trousers fit to
wear south?" Doris.
IV*“Yqs; thpse dark gray ones could
be sponged and pressed till they’d
look as good as new.”
Doris put down her darning, ran up
stairs and returned in a moment with
the full skirt of a black gown on her
arm. Her face was radiant.
“Jack can go, mother. I can get a
coat aud vest out of this gown, vNth
careful cutting. The material is love
ly. silk and wool, even finer than is
ordinarily used for gentlemen. My
big brother will be quite a swell in
it,’’ she said, merrily.
“Why, Doris, you surely don’t intend
to use that good gown in that way?
It is the only decent one you have for
cool days,” remonstrated Mrs. Tur
ner.
Indeed I do. mother. I can wear
roy old brilliantine by freshening it uc
with anew facing and ribbons, and
deai old Jack shall have his outing.”
“But Jack will not allow you t>
sacrifice your best dress for him, Do
ris.” '
Jack will know nothing about it.
I can easily find out his measures, and
I know where I can get good patterns.
If he asks questions, I’ll evade them
so skilfully he’ll think we’ve had a
sudden streak of good luck,” the girl
said, gayly.
"But it doesn’t seem fair, Doris. If
Jack would give up smoking, he could
soon save money enough to buy his
clothes himself,” Mrs. Turner protest
ed.
“Now, mother dear, don’t you fret
about your daughter. I'll have such
jolly times, and chatter and beam and
smile upon people so broadly that
they’ll forget to notice my shabby at
tire. Of course, Jack ought to be
ashamed of himself for wasting money
on such an expensive and filthy habit;
but I hope yet to some day coax him
to stop it” And full of her generous
purpose, Doris tripped up stairs to
begin her loving work.
Soon afterward, Mrs. Turner went
into the kitchen to see about dinner,
utterly unconscious that her guest,
Howard Halliday, was lying upon the
couch in the parlor, where he had gone
an hour before with a severe head
ache. He certainly had not intended
listening; but it had happened so
quickly he had not had time to make
his presence know-n. He was not very
penitent. He felt there could be no
harm in reading another page in a
sweet, unselfish life.
He had begun his acquaintance with
Doris by being amused at her quaint,
old-fashioned sincerity; and he had
not been in the house six hours as
Jack's guest, before the young lady
gave his a surprise that made him
very nearly angry.
It was just, after tea, and they had
adjourned to the broad porch to enjoy
the lovely sunset. He had pulled out
his cigar case, and with an air of easy
assurance turned to Doris
“You have no objection to my smok
ing?”
“Indeed I have. I hate ’tobacco
smoke, and even if I did not I should
object on principle.”
For once in his life Howard’s grace
of manner forsook him, and he thrust
his cigar back into its case as awk
wardly as a schoolboy, his face crim
son.
Doris sat demurely swaying back
and forth in her light rocker, one
pretty, rounded arm upraised, toying
with a spray of honeysuckle. Appar
ently unconscious that she had said
or done anything out of the ordinary,
she smiled in a friendly manner Into
the gentleman’s clouded face.
‘ Ton are the first youug lady I ever
JACK’S COAT.
bt i.at ra j. kittennoi;sk.
mot who objected to the odor of a fine
cigar,” he suid, half rebukingly.
“I am the only one who has been
courageous enough to tell you so; or,
perhaps it would please you better to
say I am the only one selfish enough
to deprive you of such pleasure. But
I’ll warrant many a lady has been
forced to tel! you a polite lie rather
than make herself disagreeable by
telling the truth,” she said good na
tun dly.
“So you do not tell untruths for
the sake of being pleasant, it seems,”
Mr. Halliday said, interrogatively, a
tinge of sarcasm in his voice.
“Not when a principle is Involved.
I claim that the use of tobacco in any
form is unwholesome, unclean, selfish
and extravagant, so of course I can
not sanction smoking, even though the
cigars may be of the finest.”
“Ob, I see you are one of the ad
vanced thinkers, or ‘reform’ women,
who are slashing right and left at the
small vices of the sterner sex. You
wish men to be little les3 than angels,
lacking physical force and manly in
dependence,” he replied hotly.
“I belong to the class who believe
men should be as free from vices as
women, good, pure and true; of the
finest physical development, and brave
enough to resist temptation, no matter
in wiftt guise it may come,” she saiu
1 quietly.
A rather heated argument followed,
in wijich Mr. Halliday felt himself de
cidedly worsted. To cover his defeat
he gladly accepted Jack’s Invitation
to call on his “best girl.”
That tilt of words was by no means
the last, nor was jt the last in which
Mr. Hailiday left the battlefield inglo
riously. It must he confessed his self
approbation was often hurt, and that
in thinking over their discussions af
terward Howard frequently assured
himself that he barely escaped dis
liking his friend's sister. That wo
men should hold “opinions’ at all
seemed unwomanly to him; and to be
defeated by one was almost unpardon
able.
Yet, aside from this unpleasant
feature, little Doris seemed one of the
most unselfish and lovable girls he
had over met. He felt sure his stately
mother would approve of her, and the
thought sent a queer little spasm of
pleasure through his hitherto invul
nerable heart. It was just like her to
sacrifice her best dress to give Jack
an outing. He hadnt much faith in
the result, though, and he laughed to
himself as he though of stylish Jack
in a badly fitting, badly made coat.
His first impulse was to tell Jack in
time to prevent the worse than use
less sacrifice; but that would he be
traying a secret not intended for his
ears, so he could only be silent and
await developments.
For the next three or four days Do
ris was scarcely visible, exceptatmeal
time. Jack stormed because she did
not give more time to their guest. It
was “just like a girl’s vanity,” he said,
“to care more for stitching away on
an old machine, making finery, than
to care for the comfort and happiness
of two forlorn men.” And Howard,
watching the sensitive face flushing
under the unjust accusations, thought
her the sweetest and loveliest of wo
men.
At last, one afternoon, as Jack and
Howard were lounging on the porCh,
Doris came tripping demurely up the
street, carrying a neat package. Her
eyes shone with a light that fairly daz
zled Mr. Halliday, and in a moment
he comprehended her plan. He arose
as she came up, and offered her a chair,
but she shook her head playfully, and
passed on into the sitting room. Pres
ently she called Jack.
He got up lazily and went in. How
ard longed to follow, but d-ared not
He expected every moment to hear
Jack's voice in angry derision. In
stead that young man soon appeared
with a beaming face, his fine figure
adorned with a well fitted and beauti
fully made coat. g
“I tell you. Howard, there's nothing
like having the right kind of women
folks. Mine have trigged me out iu
these handsome new duds, and I'm
happier than the winning captain of a
football team. 1 can go home now
with you. 1 only refused before bee
eause 1 hadn't anything fit to wear
in your warm climate, and I was too
poor to buy anything. Uncle Walter
only allows me income enough to bai*e
ly squeeze through college, and Doris'
teaching scarcely furnishes mother and
herself with tne necessities.”
Jack paused, and Howard, feeling
like a hypocrite, cudgelled his brain
for something to say.
“Deris and mother are wonderful
women, anyhow. Doris has a knack
of making the commonest things look
dainty and artistic, and mother —why
mother can easily evolve something
out of nothing. I’m sure now they
must have pinched themselves awful
ly to buy these nice things, unless
Doris has sold one of her pretty water
colors, as she does sometimes. It
must be that, for Doris declares she
hasn’t taken a dollar from the family
treasury. Its just like her, bless her
generous heart! Anyhow, I’ll not wor
ry her asking questions, for I know
ebe's as happy over it as I am. Have
a cigar?” extending a finely flavored
one to Mr. Halliday.
That gentleman declined, almost
rudely.
“I’ve concluded not to smoke any
more. Your sister Is right. The use of
tobacco makes a man blind and self
ish.”
He was half angry with Jack for ac
cepting so unquestioning!/ the sacri
THE WEEKLY NEWS, CARTERSVILLE, GA.
i rtce Doris had made, and lie kept
thinking how soon Jack might have
saved money enough to buy his own
clothes, had he been half as self-deny
ing as hfs sister. Jack looked at him
in astonishment
“Will wonders never cease. To think
I of your giving up smoking is a stun
j ner! Next thing you’ll sign the total
| abstinence pledge, and fit yourself for
j a church deacon. Doris will be de
| lighted,” he said, between puffs.
“Don't tell her; I want to tell her
myself. And, Jack, if you were half
! the man you ought to be, you’d stop
smoking yourself and save your money
to buy the things you need. I swear
I’d be ashamed to let a little, delicate
girl help clothe me,” Howard said in
dignantly.
Jack’s sunburned face took on <v
bright red.
“You’re confoundedly polite In your
way of pulling things,” lie said, giving
his cigar a petulant fling that landed
it in the rosebed, “and you’ve grown
virtuous very suddenly, It seems to
me.”
Then there was a long silence, brok
en by Jack.
“Thank you, Howard. You’re right.
I’ve been a selfish beast to let mother
and Doris spoil me so. And if you.
who can so well afford it, can quit
smoking, I will, too.”
“If ydu come down to facts, I guess
it is as Doris says; we can none of us
afford it, not even if our pocketbooks
are overflowing. We caunot afford to
risk the many evil physical results
likely to follow, and to be repeated in
future generations, to say nothing of
poisoning the air for others who detest
the odor,” Howard said, gravely.
“You talk as if Doris were dictat
ing,” said Jack, lightly.
“As she is, in a measure. I’m such
an egotistical prig that I have lacked
the courage and grace to acknowledge
how much her arguments have affect
ed me. I think 1 shall be brave enough
to tell her before 1 go,” Mr. Halliday
continued, frailly.
Jack was silent. Brotherly intui
tion had suddenly opened his eyes.
“And if you think there is the least
hope for me, I’ve something else to
tell her before I meet my mother. I
know I’m not half good enough for
her, but I Intend to grow better, and”
—Howard stopped abruptly, nervous
ness making his voice husky.
Jack grasped his hand and squeezed
it till it ached.
“No. you're not good enough for her,
■old fellow, no man is; but if she loves
you as ■well as I do, she'll take you.”
That evening Doris and Mr. Halli
dayr sat on the porch in the starlight,
having reached a perfect understand
ins.
“I think I commenced loving you be
cause you wore so frank and outspok
en, so unlike the conventional society
girls I bad grown so tired or; nut the
thing that showed me my heart
nothing else could have done was
Jack’s coat.”
“Jack’s coat!” Doris exclaimed, in
astonishment. “Whoever heard of
anything so absurd?”
Then she turned upon him quickly.
“Howard—you didn’t—you don’t
know ! ”
“Yes. I do, too. 1 heard you talking
it over with your mother, you dear,
generous little girl!”
“Aren't you ashamed of yourself?”
she asked, trying to disengage her
hand.
“Not a hit. It was the last little
link to fetter my heart to yours for
ever,’’ holding the struggling hands
firmly upon his breast.
“Y’ou won’t tell Jack? Please do
not. It would spoil his whole trip
south to know he was wearing his sis
ter's dress.”
“I promise not to tell till the day be
starts home. He’ll be a better man
for knowing it then. Your unselfish
act w ill make it easier for him to re
sist small vices and extravagances in
college next year. Besides, my own
character has been improved, and my
life made one of perfect happiness by
reading your beautiful soul through
the medium of Jack’s coat.” —Waverley
Magazine.
Aii American on Knglinli Trail®.
Mr. Chalmers Roberts, who Is in
England for The World’s Work, writes
of English trade conditions as seen by
an American and tells this story of
the conservatism and desire for the
well known and tried article on the
other side of the Atlantic.
An American commercial traveler
had built up quite a trade in a cer
tain kind of fountain pens, a sort of
middle class article more or less out
of date in the United States. For this
very reason it was once impossible to
fill an order for 500 pens from one of
his oldest and best customers. Rather
than lose the custom he arranged that
a much better and more modern pen
should be shipped in place of the kind
ordered. Judge of his surprise when
the dealer refused to accept them.
“They are much better, sir, in every
way. and it is only by a great reduc
tion in the price that you get them
at the cost of the old ones.” “That
may ail be true,” said Mr. Bull, “but
they are not the kind I ordered nor
what my customers ask for. I sell
what they want, and am not in the
educating business.” The pens had to
be sent back to America.
A Country of Strangrr*.
Switzerland, as the following statis
tics will show, is essentially a coun
try cultivating one industry—visitors,
writes a I>ausanne correspondent. In
Zurich there are no fewer than 70.652
foreigners, and at Basle their number
amounts to $13,139. In the cantons of
Vaud and Tessin more than 30,000
strangers are living in each canton.
Geneva *lso is well up to the fore
with 53,885 aliens within her borders.
Switzerland, with a population of
about 3,500.000, luis no fewer than
380,000 foreigners In her midst.
BIG FORTUNE IN REFUSE
THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS THROWN
AWAY IN NEW YORK WASTE.
facts (ilaatiad from an F.iperimcnt Made
by the < ity Authorities in faring for
I'apor, ICag* ami Junk old fdioea
Make a Very Prominent Showing;.
There is a fortune thrown av/ay an
nually in the waste of New Y’ork city,
writes a correspondent of the Philadel
phia Record. The poor of Paris could
be well housed, fed and clothed with
the proceeds from the waste of this
city. This statement is not based on
| mere supposition, but upon facts
gleaned from an experiment which was
tried by the city authorities last year
in caring for a certain portion of the
city’s waste.
For a period of 12 months the refuse
and waste gathered from street clean
ing districts Nos. 12, 14 and 16 was de
livered at a special station, where it
was carefully separated into its con
stituent parts and such as could be
utilized for any good purpose was sold
for what it would bring and the bal
ance was destroyed. The area cov
ered included a population, according
to the census returns, of 116,525. Ev
ery class of house, shop, store and a
few factories are to be found within
the districts, so that the results of
the year’s work would form a fair ba
sis for estimating the value of the
waste of the whole city.
During the year 12,947 loads of sep
arated refuse from carts holding four
cubic yards, weighing 900 per load, or,
in the aggregate 5826 tons, was burned
as useless, and from 5 to 8 percent
was worthless, while about 37 percent
was marketable. The matter reserved
for sale contains 3,058,616 pounds of
paper, which was classified as follows;
Manila paper, 471,385 pounds; news,
803,301; mixed, 442,866; straw board,
587,208; mixed wrapping, 635,136;
books, 18,620.
There was a total of 576,812 pounds
of rags, classified as follows: Woolen,
18,617; white, 41,450; mixed, 116,550;
black, 195,825; bagging, 48,055; twine,
21,070; softback carpet, 18,795; hard
back carpet, 79,820; wool carpet, 3915;
linsey carpet, 7180; old coats, 20,945;
stockings, 4590.
Among other articles there were
found 80,840 pounds of old iron; 494
pounds of copper, 2090 pouads of zinc,
1607 pounds of brass, 303 pounds of
lead, 9769 pounds of old rubber, 36,160
pounds of old shoes, 400 pounds of hair
cloth, 765 pounds of curled hair, 2100
old hats, 12 loads of tin cans, 40 mat
tresses, 2890 barrels and 29,205 pro
prietary bottles. Beside all this, it
must be remembered there was an im
mense amount of matter of all classes
gathered by the countless number of
rag and garbage collectors who do a
business independent of the city tb
partment.
Taking these figures as haGs for
estimating the amount of T‘<f >■■■■ col
lected from the boro igos of Manhat
tan and Bronx for this year, at the
same time allowing for the natural in
crease, it would amount to 112,000
tons for 12 month::. About 32 percent,
or 35,840 tons, represents the paper
and rags.
It is interesting to note that the
daily newspapers in New York con
sume 350 tons of paper per clay, of
which, it is estimated, one-half re
mains in the city and is no sent into
circulation through the mails. This
one-half will amount to 63,870 tons
during the year. To this vast paper
hcapSnust be added the immense stack
of printed matter, such as circulars,
posters, advertising letters, etc., and
the refuse from the weekly and month
ly publications.
About one-half of this vast total of
waste paper finds its way back to the
manufacturer through private chan
nels while much of it is consumed in
the furnaces of office buildings, insti
tutions, and the like, with most un
satisfactory results. For example, the
federal authorities in their building
down town undertake to destroy large
quantities of paper, and owing to the
fierce draft due to the tall chimneys
and the poor combustion, half-burnt
paper is distributed impartially over
the neighborhood. For weeks together
last summer the atmosphere of a sec
tion, including parts of Broad, Wall
and Exchange street was, at certain
hours, loaded with floating ashes and
half-burned scraps of paper, and on
several days in particular the walks
and pavements in the vicinity of the
custom house were literally carpeted
with charred fragments of burned gov
ernment records.
These crude methods of disposing of
this particular kind of waste are bound
to become a thing of the past very
soon, for steps are now under way
whereby a modernized destructor, one
which is patterned after an English
destructor, will be installed before the
year is out. But it is not the intention
of the authorities to burn all the waste
paper. It will be utilized in two ways;
First, by the sorting and saving of
that which is marketable.
While the worth cf clean paper and
rags depends upon the demand and the
price upon the market quotations, yet
the records of the past few years show
the average would be about $8 per ton
the season through for a good quality
of stock, and the poorest quality about
56.
Assuming the above figures to be
correct and taking into consideration
the fact that the waste would be dis
posed of at a much less cost per ton
than by the present system, more than
$300,000 would be saved to the city in
this item alone.
But after disposing of the salable
part of the rags and paper there re
mains the combustible part to get rid
of, which, by following the practice
of foreign cities, can be disposed of at
a profit by converting the heat ob
tained from the combustion into horse
power.
This forms the second method df
utilizing the waste paper, rags and
‘ other combustible waste. Of the grand
| total of rubbish collected about 50 per
: cent is good only for combustion, and
| is, therefore, to be used as fuel. It
has been demonstrated that this class
of garbage, in the modernized furnace
for its combustion and for utilizing the
heat units for the creation of steam,
has in it one-tenth the value of coal.
This means that New York city towed
out to sea last year more than 5600
tons of coal, which had a money value
of $35,000. This rubbish was worse
than wasted, for after being dumped
into the sea it was blown, drifted and
tossed about by wind, tide and waves,
much of it landing on the shores and
beaches of the health resorts, there to
become a nuisance and menace to hu
manity.
WHEN PERIL COMES.
Sudden amt Eitreme Uimuer tlie Teat of
True Courage.
It is when the unexpected happens
that fatalism proves how fatal a prop
it is, after all, for human courage.
The soldier or the sailor can say to
himself, when he knows that he must
take a supreme risk in battle or in a
storm: “I am powerless against the
fate which was decreed for me from
the beginning of the world. If my
time has come I cannot help it; if not,
all the forces of earth and sky and
ocean cannot prevail to harm me.”
But when, without an instant’s warn
ing. a rock crashes through the ship’s
bottom and the waters rush into the
gap; when confusion seizes the entire
company aboard; when the fog is too
thick for the captain to be seen, or the
roar of the sea drowns the sound of
his orders, anew test is applied. Then
it is that the courage which rests on
nothing firmer than a negation gives
way, and in his greed to save his own
life the stoic becomes as a madman.
There have been steamship disasters
in which men of humble station, of all
colors and faiths, have shown the fin
est quality of heroism; and there have
been those in which the common sail
ors, all whites and Europeans, have
earned eternal disgrace by their cow
ardice. The point we are making is
not that it is possible to draw a hard
and fast line between one religion and
another, or one race and another, in
the matter cf bravery; but that
the affirmative sense of respon
sibility for one’s own acts, of the dif
ference between right and wrong, be
tween nobility and ignominy, and of
the grandeur of duty well done at the
sacrifice of self, is a far surer depend
ence in the presence of sudden peril
than all the stoical philosophers ever
worked out by the mind of man. —
Washington Post.
QUAINT AND CURIOUS.
An owl was shot 409 miles out at sea
by the captain of the British steamship
Ethelreda. No other case is on record
of a land bird having flown so far from
shore.
A wonderful cavern, rivaling in beau
ty and natural phenomena, if not in
size, the famous Mammoth cave of
Kentucky, has just been discovered
across the Juniata river from Maple
ton, Pa.
A manufacturer at Sheffield, Eng.,
who has had trouble with the postoffice
about registering his mail packages is
taking his revenge by sending 200 em
loyes daily to the postoffice to buy
penny stamps. Each employe is dec
orated with read tape and is provided
with a sovereign’s worth of coppers
with which he buys one stamp at a
time.
During the trial before a French court
between two partners of an important
corset firm the debate revealed that
one of the principal branches of their
manufactures was men’s corsets. The
judge, having demanded an explana
tion, it was sworn that more than
18,000 corsets were made yearly for
Frechmen and 3000 were shipped to
England, principally for army officers.
German officers created also quite a de
mand till a rival Berlin firm offered a
cheaper article.
Mrs. Archibald Rankin, aged 65
years, living near Sharon, Pa., was re
cently paralyzed by a bolt of lightning.
So many times has she been injured in
this manner that she is known as the
“human magnet.” Several years ago
she was struck by lightning and ever
since then her whole system has been
charged like a galvanic battery. She
is so sensitive to electrical disturb
ances that she. sleeps in a bed upon the
legs of which are glass insulators. She
also sits in an insulated chair. When
the air is heavily charged with elec
tricity her flesh tingles and gives her
great distress. Lightning striking
within a half mile of the house invari
ably shocks her.
There are no points in Europe where
the cold records of America are
eclipsed, but in Asia our lowest rec
ords are thrown completely in the
shade. Siberia has the coldest weather
known anywhere in the world. At
Werchojansk. Siberia. 90.4 degrees be
low zero was observed in January,
1888, which gets away below anything
ever known in the world before or
since. At that point the average tem
perature for January is nearly 64 de
grees below. This town is situated at
an elevation of 330 feet above the level
of the sea and during the entire winter
the weather is nearly alwavs calm
and clear. Perhaps the majority of
people suppose that the coldest weather
in the world is at the North Pole, but
reliable observations made by explor
ers disprove this theory completely.
No pins were made until 1811—$1 a
paper.
THE OPTIMI37.
When I am in the dentist’s chair
I do not raise a fuss;
1 thank my lucky stars I'm not
A hippopotamus.
\\ hen baggagemen destroy my trims
i do not rave and rant.
But mentally say I’m alad
I’m not an elephant.
When my new shoes are hard and tLle
And painfully impede '’ *•
Mv walk, 1 smile and think, ” Tis well
I m not a centipede.”
HUMOROUS.
Wigwag—He calls hamself a martyr
to love. Henpeck—How can he be
when he Isn’t married?
Little Willie—Why do fhey call the
wrinkl- s in people’s faces crows’ feet?
Little Ethel —Oh, just caws.
Sillicus—Youngpop says his little
girl is only 3 years old and plays the
pir.no. Cynicus—Oh, well, maybe she’ll
outgrow it.
“It’s hard,” said the menagerie lion.
“What’s hard?” asked the kangaroo
“To be starved when I’m alive ami
stuffed when I’m dead.”
Tommy—Pop, of what use is the
vermiform appendix? Tommy’s Pop-
Well, my son, it keeps a lot of doc
tors from starving to death.
Young D.s Bore (hunting for some
thing to say)—l wish I had lived in
the knightly days of old. Weary Beau
ty—So do I. —New York Weekly.
Vera Goodheart—She isn’t exactly
pretty, but she has a face that grows
on one. Sallie De Witte—And how
fortunate it is that it doesn’t grow on
more than one.
“Plumbers are terrible in their
charges, aren't they? They omit noth
ing.” “That’s their reputation.’’
“Here’s one who charged his victim
with finding Fault with his hill.”
“Is he weaher man in?” asked the
hustling stranger. “No; he’s away off
in Alaska,” replied the assistant. “1
knew he was away off somewhere,”
said the stranger as he bustled out.
The illustrator was looking over the
proof sheets of the popular novelist’s
work. “She swept up the street with
haughty tread,” he read. “Well, 1
guess I’ll have to draw' her with one
of those long trains.” he mused.
“I wonder if all men are fools,”
snapped Mrs. Enpeck during a little
domestic tiff the other morning. “No,
indeed, my dear,” replied her hus
band. “I know a number of men who
are bachelors.”
“Dis is terrible,” said Meandering
Mike, with a deep-drawn sigh. “What’s
de matter?’’ asked Plodding Pete, in
alarm. “Here’s a piece in de paper.
It says we’ve got muscles inside cf us
that keeps up an involuntary action.
Day goes on workin’, whether we
wants ’em to or not.”
The husband of the society woman
looked up from his paper. “I see in
the society column that you were at
home yesterday, he remarked. “Yes,
dear,” replied the society woman.
“Well,” he mutt ied, “I know it’s
quite unusual for you to be at home,
but I can’t for the life of me see why
the newspapers should comment on it"
Japanese Housekeeping.
Even the highest-class Japanese
women have their household duties to
perform, and no matter how rich the
family, Japanese girls are brought up
to be able t sew, cook and attend to
their homes.
In Japan the higher-class women
never go to market. The market comes
to them —that is, the dealers call, and
offer wares for sale at their customers'
doors. The fish merchant brings his
stock, and if any is sold prepares it
for cooking. The greengrocer, the sake
dealer and nowadays the meat man ail
go to their patrons’ houses.
Nearly all Japanese women make
their own clothes; at all events, even
the very richest embroider their gar
ments themselves. They are very
economical little dressmakers and do
much planning, cutting, basting and
making over.
Dinner is served at or a little before
dusk the year round. A small table
about one foot square and eight inche3
high is set before each person. On
this is a lacquer tray, with space for
four or five dishes, each four or five
inches in diameter. There are defi
nite places for each little bond and
dish. The rice bowl is cn the left, the
soup bowl in the middle. One’s appe
tite is measured according to the num
ber of bowls of rice one eats. A maid
is at hand with a large, box of rice to
replenish the bowls. If a few grains
are left in the bottom of the bowl she
is aware that those eating have had
sufficient, but should one empty bis
bowl she will once more fill it.
__j
How Nail* AVere Nsiinnl*
Two accounts are given of the term
“sixpenny,” “eightpenny, “tenpenny.
and so on, as applied to the various
sizes of nails. According to one static
ment, when nails were made by band,
the penny was taken as a standard o.
weight, and six were made equal to
the weight of a copper penny. This
explanation is open to criticism on
account of the very small size of the
nails, of which six were needed to
balance even the large-sized old fash
ioned copper penny. Others are nnic .
more probable. One explanation hold 3
that tenpenny nails originally sold f° r
tenpence a hundred, sixpenny nails for
sixpence a hundred, and so on, the
smaller nails selling for the lower
price. Another explanation is tha.
1000 nails of the tenpenny size used
to weigh 10 pounds. 1000 of the si*,
penny size six pounds, and so on for
other sizes. Of the ordinary sixpenny
nails there are 80 to the pound; of the
eightpenny there are 50; tenpenny. •> >
twelvepenny, 29. —The Book World.