Newspaper Page Text
the parable of happiness.
A rich man’s goodly son did go
.Afar to find true happiness.
He tracked the treasures of the snow.
And Indus tracked. The stormy stress
Of hilt-set seas, the peace of palm-set plain
He searched and eager searched; yet searched
in vain.
The hundred battered battle gates
Of Thebes, the storied temple door
Of Delphi, oracle of fates
Or sacred shrine or holy store
Of h-aling things he saw; yet day by day
drew care, upon him like a mantle gray.
Still had he honors oft, and great.
For goodly was his heart and keen
His wit and generous his state.
Anil much his eager eyes had seen.
Yet hapmness cam* not; and over all
His ways and days there ever iay a pall.
And h grew fretted: came to feel
That tate bad hounded him; he said:
Ah, mirsed of Geif His heart grew steel
And stone; and bitter grew his bread.
At last, outworn, he turned him, with a sigh,
To seek his childhood’s home and cheerless
die.
And there he sat him, all apart,
A moody,-selfish, sullen thing.
Yea, God had giveu him a heart
bar bae*. Hut he had sought t i bring
True happiness unto himself alone;
So God instead had given him n stone.
One day a child passed where he sat
Mid his ancestral wood and moaned.
The barefoot thing did start thereat.
And starting, fell. He grudging groane 1
Some selfish word, the while he stooped and
bore „
The bleeding waif to liis own stately door.
And oh, the rising sun he knew
That ilav, and all his after days!
His pent soul widened till it grew
to reach,as reach the dear sun's rays,
All things that lay about, before,
Nor wailed he out for happiness once more.
—Joaquin Miller,in the Independent.
CAUGHT BY A TARTAR.
BY KATE M. CLEARY.
’ There!” said Chrystal.
With a sigh of satisfaction, she poised
the last tart airily on the apex of the
pastry pyramid and stepped back to view
the effect. And, indeed, the effect was
as artistic, as appetizing. The oval dish
of polished Beleek, creamy with age,
dotted all over with prim little blue for
get-me-nots and primmer little pink
rosebuds would have delighted the heart
of a china connoisseur. And the tarts,
round, crisp, flaky, goldcnly brown,each
inclosing a crimson lake of strawberry
preserve, and all towering up in regular
and tempting prodigality, quite rewarded
the cook for her labor.
“If these,” considered Chrystal, as she
carefully carried the delectable dainties
into the buttery and laid the dish down
on the shelf by the north window, “if
these do not suit even Clareuee's city
friends, they are very hard to please.
Very-hard-to-plcase,” she repeated, hy
phenating her sentence with a series of
convinced little nods.
She went back to the kitchen and
looked up at the clock. “Half-past 3,
and everything is done, except to set the
table. I think everything is done. The
ham is sliced, the chicken jellied, the
compote made, the cream whipped, and
the tarts baked. Yes, I may go and dress,
and perhaps have time for a bit of a read
before I must set the table. ”
SWe tidied up the kitchen, closed the
buttery door, drew down the bliuds, and
went upstairs.
The home of the Bruntons was a gray,
old frame house standing on the outskirts
of Ashland. Chrystal’* parents were in
the pleasant circumstances generally des
ignated comfortable, ami Clarence, her
twin brother, held a confidential position
in a city grain firm. Yesterday he had
learned two college friends of his were in
town. He had called at their hotel, but
failed to find them in, so he had left a
note stating lie would call again, ou this
particular evening, and bring them out
to supper at his father’s house. The
Bruntons happened to be without a girl
at the time, but Clarence, with a young
man’s thoughtlessness, failed to consider
that fact. Perhaps he knew Chrystal
would prove more reliable than a host of
domestics. Her genius for housekeeping
(for perfect housekeeping does imply ge
nius) had been proven.
Fresh, breezy and blowy was the after
noon. Delicious drifts of sunshine and
tantalizing shadows followed each other
m bewildering repetition. Within tie
house theie was no sound. The only in
mates were Chrystal and her mother.
The latter was writing letters in her own
room. „
“One! two! three! four!”
Chrystal counted the strokes, as she
slipped into her pretty Marguerite gown
of rust-red China silk.
‘•Now I'll just glance through those
new magazines before supper,” she de
cided, as she tied and patted the soft sash
of her dress, deftly twisted the big bow
back, and then turned her head over her
shoulder to admire the result in the mir
ror. But, alas, for the vanity of human
resolves! At that moment the bell rang.
“Oh. dear! Who can that be?” she
exclaimed, with emphasis more provoked
than flattering.
Hastily she. thrust a silver pin through
the deep fall of creamy lisse at her
throat, tucked away a couple of rebellious
curls under the braided coil of her brown
hair, and went out of her room and down
the stairs.
She opened the door to a bold young
breeze, to a chilly dazzle of sunshine,
and to Miss Stokes. To Miss Stokes of
all women! Chrystal’s heart sank. A
spinster of an agt decidedly beyond that
known as uncertain was Miss Stokes. Her
periodical visits were invariably long, in
variably gossipy, invariably tiresome.
The Bruntons had known her for many
years. She was one of those formidable
and familiar specters: “A friend of the
family,” and she was. therefore, entitled
to toleration, if not to exalted regard.
Halt-past lour! Five! A quarter past
five!
“Will she nerer go?" dejectedly mar-
Teled poor Chrystal, sitting there sroil
ing, endeavoring to repress indications
of weariness, and striving lo appear in
terested in the prosy talk of her visitor.
And meanwhile two young men, both
very hungry, both very tired, returning
to town after a day spent in duck-shoot
ing outside the city limits, had taken a
short cut through the Bruntons’ orchard.
They were obliged to pass quite close to
the house, and one of them, a tall, mus
cular young fellow, with pleasant black
eves, white teeth, and the sunniest of
smiles, paused by a window which a
great old cherry-tree shaded, a window
that was low and open.
“Look Tom!” be said.
Tom Hilton, insignificant of stature,
but firiically correct as to costume,turned
his head in the direction indicated. He
puckered his lips. His small blue eyes
twinkled.
“Great Scott! Dick, can you resist
them?”
Dick Bertrand, who had not removed
his gaze from the Beleek dish and the
strawberry tarts, slowly shook his head.
“Like the father of my country,” lie
declared, “I nui the soul of verucity
no!”
“ ‘Voracity,’ you mean,” corrected
Hilton.
“As you like! I can’t resist one and
—I won’t!”
With the expression of which desper
ate decisiov, lie deliberately thrust his
hand through the aperture, and lightly
picked off the topmost tart.
Hiltou looked on enviously.
“Is it good?”
“Good? Don’t talk!”
He could not converse with ease him
self, so full was his mouth with pastry
and jam. He swallowed the sweet mor
sel and boldly extracted another.
“Suppose some one wers to come
around the house, or—o r open that
door?” ventured Tom, timidly.
“This is it Christian country, where
starving men are not refused food," de
clared Bertrand, reaching for his third
tart.
“But w-what would you do,” stam
mered his friend, terrified by such rash
ness, l, if—if any one were to catch us—
you, I mean?”
“I’d ruu,” decided Dick, as lie calmly
purloined another tart.
“Stop!”
Tom was fairly dancing.
“Eh?”
“Stop! I say. That’s your fourth."
“Proves how fine they are,” responded
Bertrand, brushing the crumbs off his
mustache.
“But you won't leave any for me,”
wailed Hilton.
His scruples were quite gone. Dick’s
enjoyment of the tarts had been too
much for him. Huuger had conquered
conscience. He made an onslaught on
the shrinking pyramid. He captured two
tarts which ho devoured in successively
distributed and impartial bites. When
five minutes had passed,all the prim little
forget-me-nots and primmer little rose
buds were visible on the oval dish.
Comically, guiltily, the criminals
looked at each other. Then as if moved
by one impulse, they put their hands in
their pockets. Dick laid a silver dollar
on the plate. Hiltou followed suit. Then
Bertrand pulled out his note-book and
wrote;
“To the Quean of Hearts, who mads some
tarts—with thanks and compliments.”
I He tore out. the page, laid it on the
Belock dish, ami weighted it with the
money. After which both conspirators
took up their guns, and, shakirg with
luughter, ran across a vacant lot, around
a corner, jumped into their waiting bug
gy, and drove rapidly into town.
“it is after four,” remarked Tom;
“wo must make haste.”
And all this time Chrystal Brunton,
blessedly unconscious of the theft being
perpetrated, sat and listened to the chat
ter of Misi Stokes. It was a quarter to
six before that victimizing visitor made
her welcome adioux.
“Gracious, how I will have to rush!”
groaned Chrystal, as she closed the door
behind the brown silk back of Maria
Angeline—for that washer guest's novel
istie name.
Into the dining room flew Miss Brun
ton, pushed out the table, whisked off
the velours cover, spread on the cloth of
milk white damask, took the solid silver
from its chamois wrappings,and brought
the company china from its seclusion
under the sideboard. Then she put on
a big nainsook apron, went into the
kitchen, brightened the fire, hurried to
the buttery, carried the meat into the
dining room, and went back for the
tarts.
Where had they vanished! There was
the dish! But the tarts! She stood still
aud rubbed her eyes.
Stolen, beyond a doubt.
The fare that was so sweet, and youth
ful and sunny souled, if not positively
pretty, grew scarlet from brow to chin.
Oh, it was too badl After all her trou
ble. too. Who could have taken them?
probably those horrid little Yolmouth
j children.
The gleam of the dollars caught h&r
eye. She went forward, took up the
scrap of paper,and read the lines thereon.
She laughed in spite of herself. Assur
edly the Volmouth children were not the
culprits. To be robbed and paid in this
lashion! What hungry and gentlemanly
villain lurked in the neighborhood?
Oil, it was aggravating aud ridiculous,
too!
“Well, I’m glad it was the tarts and
not grandmother’s Belek dish he fan
cied,” she told herself, by way of conso
lation.
Half an hour later, Clarence and his
friends appeared. Mrs. Brunton emerged
from her room, and the head of the
family came home from the city. At the
first favorable moment, Chrystal beck
oned her brother into the hall.
“Clarence!”
“Well?”
“The strawberry tarts'. ’
“Did they fail?”
His particular penchant was strawberry
tarts. He was interested in their possi
ble fate.
“Fail!” indignantly. “They never
fail with me. They,” with much solem
nity. “were stoleu!"
She nodded sadly. ,
“By whom?”
“I don’t know.” And then she told
him of the note and the money left on
the plate.
At supper, he laughingly insisted os
telling the whole story. Hilton and
Bertrand, who had grown painfully em
barrassed when Clarence Brunton had
pointed out his home, stole startled
glances attach other, as the tale pro
ceeded.
“Let me see that scrap of paper, Chris
sie,” Clarence said, in conclusion.
She drew it from her pocket, and
handed it to him.
“By George!” lie cried, in surprise and
delight.
He sprang to his feet, and then sank
back in his chair, with u roar of laughter.
“Clarence!” protested Chrystal.
“If the writing isn’t—•” he gasped.
Bertrand interrupted him.
“Mine!" he confessed.
“Yes, yours!” And off he went in an
other paroxysm of laughter. Chrystal’s
eyes, blue as the forget-me-nots on the
Beleek dish, grew very wide, indeed.
Was that handsome fellow the Knave oi
Hearts who stole her tarts?
They, the thieves, attempted explana
tions, apologies. Hilton put the illume
on Bertrand and Bertrand ou Hilton.
Then all joined in young Brunton’s hearty
aud contagious mirth.
That was just a year ago. And there
are those who avow that, before the April
sunshine wakes ail the world to beauty,
Chrystal Brunton will be Chrystal Bruu
ton no longer. For if not exactly a
Queen of Hearts, she is at least queen
over one heart. And that one is Dick
Bertrand’s. —New York Ledger.
Oneer Facts About Money.
How many people know how much
there is in this country of what people
call “money,” how much in gold and
silver coin, and how much in greenbacks
and other paper currency bearing the
stamp of the United Btates Government!
Very few. Inquiry at the Treasury De
partment discovers the fact that there is,
all told, just, a little over two billions, or
between S3O and S4O apiece for every
man, woman aud child in the United
States. Of this a little over onc-lialf is
in gold and silver corn, and a little less
than one-half in paper of various kinds.
Of the metal money about two-thirds are
in gold and one-third in silver. Of the
paper about one-third is in U. 8. notes
or greenbacks, one-fourth in silver cer
tificates, one-sixth in gold certificates,
one-fifth in national bauk notes, and the
remainder in various denominations.
But the $2,000,000,000 of, United
States currency are not all in circulation
among the people. More than one-third
is locked up in the Treasury building,
and that is the normal state of things.
One-half of all the gold and three-fourth
of all the silver is locked up in the Trego,
ury. The circulating medium in use
among the people is three-fourths paper,
the largest volume being in greenbacks,
with silver certificates next, then national
bank notes, then gold certificates. But
we would not be doing gold justice if
we did not say that there was more gold
in circulation than any one kind of paper.
What a disproportion between the
amount of wealth and the amount of
money in the United States! All the
money in the country, including what is
locked up in the Treasury, would not be
sufficient to buy the real estate and the
personal property in the city of Wash
ington.
The largest greenback extant is worth
SIO,OOO, and there is only one such note
in existence. Of SSOOO notes there are
seven; and when you come down to the
ordinary every-day SIOOO note, “there’s
millions in it.” —Washington Critic.
About Chloroforming.
The statement that when a handker
chief is thrown over a man’s head he im
mediately goes into a trance, is interest
ing and raises a curious point. There
are many lawyers who arc wont to declare
that the evidence giveu from time to time
at criminal trials leaves no doubt that
there exists some drug which, when
spread upon a cloth and placed over the
nose and mouth, immediately produces
unconsciousness. On the other hand,
chemists assert that the thing is an im
possibility, and that no such composition
has ever been discovered. Chloroform
and the other recognized amesthetics re
quire at least three distinct, inhalations to
produce the loss of sensation. To recon
cile this conflict of testimony seems im
possible, unless, indeed, we adopt th
sensational theory that some canmrrs
among the criminal classes is in posses
sion of a trade secret as yet unknown to
science. Probably, however, this notiou
is too fantastic, and we should rather in
cline to the supposition that the imme
diate loss of consciousness is due to some
thing comparable to mesmeric action
Hr. Charcot tells us that one of the way*,
of instantaneously inducing the mesmeric
sleep is to produce a violent sensation ol
surprise in the patieat by the sheck of a
sudden noiso outlie flashing of a bright
light. Is it not possible that a totally un
expected attack, as in the case quoted,
mesmerizes the victim for the moment,
and that then the chloroform ou the
handkerchief begins to produce a slower
form of stupefaction? The matter is one
which Dr. Charcot, who pays special at
tention to hypnotism in its relation to
fore isic medicine, might think worth in
vestigating.—Spectator.
Tea Nomenclature.
Bohea, is the name of the hills in
Chiua, among which that ter is grown:
Pekoe means “White hair,” in reference
to the downy appearance of tender leaves;
Hyson means “before the rain,” ot
“flourishing spring;” Souchong is "small
plantCongo—misspelt Congou— mea**-
labor, and is expressive of the extra care
taken in the preparation of that kind of
tea. There are two principal varieties of
the tea plant. Thea bohea is that which
is cultivated in the black-tea countrv,
the district adjacent to Canton. Thea
viridis is grown in the northern, or what
is called the green-tea districts of China.
The difference in the c Dior and flavor in
teas arises from drying and nwuipuh*
lion.— Covritr -Journal.
WOMEN ON A CANAL.
IN THE CABINS OP BOATS THAT
NAVIGATE THE ERIE.
Neatly Furnished Places—How the
W omen Pass Their Time—Their
Social Circles—A Girl Prod
igy of Nine Years,
There are few among the many who
watch the long lines of canal boats enter
ing the Erie Canal locks at West Troy
that have the faintest idea how the wo
men aboard these boats live, and what
class of people they are. The prevailing
impression seems to be that none but the
roughest of women would or could liva
on board such craft, and that the life
and surroundings must be of the hardest
sort.
Bright and early one morning our ar
tist climbed aboard one of a long row of
boats that were awaiting their turn to
pass through the weighing lock at Green
Island, and almost the first step be took
after getting aboard, he met an elderly
woman in a neat print dress and white
apron, who smiled in a quiet way when
the visitor’s business was made known.
“So you want to see how women live
aboard these boats, and 1> told about it,
too,” she said, as she led the way back
toward the cabincompanionway. “Well,
I for one am right glad you have come,
and that what you hear and see will be
printed, for I realize more than you do
how great a prejudice exists against us
as a class and also how widespread are
the false ideas entertained in the public
mind relative to our life along the
canal.”
She directed the visitor to stoop low
as he begun the descent of the cabin
stairs, and the admonition came none too
soon, for the stairways are low and steep,
with no head room to spare. But once
inside the cabin it was quite another
matter, for a considerable portion of
these big boats is allotted to living
quarters. This cabin was especially
roomy and home-like, for the floor had
been scrubbed and rescrubbed until it
was as white as snow.
In the centre of the room a large square
rug left but little of the floor boards to
be seen. It was of a pretty, bright pat
tern, and a little white dog lay fast asleep
in the centre of one of the big red roses
that graced the pattern. Over this sev
eral other hair or carpet mats had been
placed at the foot of the stairs or by the
lounge that stood to the right of the
door. The curtains, of some sort of
dainty white stuff, fluttered with the
morning breeze as it swept softly in over
a bunch of “love entangled” that grew
in a little flower pot on the window edge.
Pictures were everywhere about the
panelled sides of the cidiin, and a cuniiry
bird in a gilded cage sang sweetly in the
window near the pretty flower. The
doors of the stateroom stood open, and
disclosed a pretty picture of snowy bed
spreads and fancy pillow shams, while
the kitchen, with its shining pots and
pans, was an itteal place for a good
cook.
“We do most of our cooking up on
deck during the warm weather, and the
men put awnings up to shield us from
the sun. It keeps the smell of the cook
ing away from the cabin and leaves it in
a much cooler condition,” the woman
explained, as she kindly offered a cup of
warm coffee to her visitor.
In the course of a ten minutes conver
sation she succeeded in giving the news
paper man a most correct picture of the
life of the average women who must find
their homes cn the water by the side of
a father, brother, or husband. During
the winter months most of the boats tie
up in the Brie or Atlantic Basins at New
York city, and through all these long
winter days the women aboard the 200
or 300 boats go visiting and give parties
and dances pretty much the same as
their sisters ou laud whose abiding places
have rather more stability. Through
;he summer, of course, there is less
opportunity for social intercourse while
the lioats are on the move, but vs hen
they tie up for orders or to load at the
principal points the women get together
and often organize a party to go off ou
picnics and excursions on land, the men
being busied in loadiug their cargoes.
When the artist boarded the second
boat a tall, broad-shouldered man, evi
dently’the captain of the boat, seemed to
be in especially good humor, for he
laughed over the mission the artist had
stated to him before interviewing the
women at the other end of the boat,
which, as the Captain explained, was
their especial “stamping ground.” While
going up he stopped the newspaper man
suddenly, and after au inquiry as to
whether he were married, explained that
he had two good-looking daughters in
the after cabin, aud that he would, after
discovering that his caller was a single
man, have to consult their mother before
he would run the risk of letting him see
them. This he did iu a good-natured
way by calling down the hatch of the
cabin: “Say, there, Jennie, here’s a
young dude that wants to make pictures
of how ye live; think it’s safe to let him
down there among the gals?”
In answer his wife came up the com
panionway and welcomed the reporter to
tke cabin helm, with instructions to
make himself “to home.” It would have
been a most bashful young man, indeed,
who would not have felt at home among
this jolly party. The Captain was ver
bose to the limit. His wife insisted that
her visitor needed a cup of warm coffee
and some cakes, and cakes and coffee he
must have. The girls, with their pretty
faces, came right up to the interviewing
scratch, and told everything they knew
about canal-boat life, and how they were
treated by clerks in the stores when they
went shopping in town if they asked that
their purchases be delivered on a canal
boat.
“Why,” explained the youngest of the j
two, “those clerks were all just too race j
to us for any use until they discovered, as j
we were paying our bills and giving or
ders for delivery of goods, that we were
living on a canal boat. It was just two i
fiab to tea how their laws fell when they !
thought how nice they had been to
dinary canal people.”
The gestures and tone of voice which
accompanied thk little bit of information
were laughable. Then the two came over
to where the artist sat sketching the
cabin, and while they watched the draw
ing g*ow they each in turn gave him the
full story of how they had spent list win
ter in the Erie Basin—Of the dances and
parties and weddiDgs and the fun they
had had roaming over the 30(1 boats.
And when he clambered over the side they
called after him: “Now mind and send
us each a paper with the pictures in, for
you know women on canal boats can
read.”
At the entrance to the cabin of the
third boat a sharp-eyed, stern-featured
matron stood guard over two pretty
girls that were peeping over from the
companionway to get a look at the
stranger just then engaged in the
rather ungraceful act of climb
ing over the side. A dog at the
matron's feet asserted his right to stop
the stranger's advance until the stem
faced Cerberus bade him “lie down.”
It was “ironing day” on board this boat.
Here, as on the other boats, everything
was neat and clean, though the two de
clared they were “really ashamed to bring
you down here, we are so upset with
spring cleaning.” On another boat there
was a good organ and a young woman,
who boasted that she was the captain’s
daughter, could steer a boat, cook a
dinner and play the organ, and was only
nine years old.
Altogether, the women of the canal
have quite as nice a life and just as nice
people as the average of their sex who
reside on land.— Troy (N. Y.) Press.
Fish That Climb Trees.
The traditional notion of a “fish out of
water” is that of a helpless and gasping
creature; yet, as the author of “Glimpses
of Animal Life” reminds Us, many fisb
deliberately choose to diversify their ex
istence by seeking land and air. The
perch often leaps into the airfor flies,and
can be carried tor long distances in damp
grass without suffering harm.
One of the species, which lives in Cey
lon, and is known as the Kavaya, some
times leaves his pool and takes a short
journey over the grass. He prefers to
make these little excursions by night or
in the early morning, when he can be re
freshed by dew, but sometimes, led no
doubt by urgent necessity, travels over a
hot and dusty road under the midday
sun. The fish known on the Gauges as
the “climbing perch” is very tenacious
of life and may be kept alive five or six
days out of water. After this experience
he seems as a fish newly caught.
There are remarkable tales told of this
fish, w'hich is said to ascend cocoanut
palms for the purpose of drinking their
sap. This little refreshment over, it re
turns to the water. Of course such fish
are automatically different from those
which exist only in the water, but na
turalists suggest various reasons for their
peculiar hardihood. It is agreed that
they possess a cavity near that of the
gills,which contains the air retained there
for respiration.
That they breathe air directly from the
atmosphere and not through the gills has
been concluded from the fact that they
can be carried a long distance in water
mixed with mud, whereas, in pure water,
they soon die. The muddy water cannot
pass through the gills, and the fish must,
consequently, have depended upon air
alone.
How Haircloth is Mate.
Many people understand, of course,
how haircloth is made, but for the edifi
cation of those who do not, we will ex
plain the process. In the first place,
horsehair cannot be dyed. It repels col
oring matter; so to make black cloth it
is necessary to secure natural black hair.
The horses, in many cases, absolutely
wild, running unrestrained, are regularly
corailed and shorn. Of course black
hair is preferable, but sometimes gray
stock is utilized. Not only the tails, but
also the manes are cut; the hair is
hunched. These bunches seldom contain
hairs of less length than two feet; some
are even three and feet, and the thick
ness of the bunches is usually two or
three inches. The haircloth looms are
provided with what we may call a nip
per, in place of shuttle, and the nipper is
so finely actuated that it travels across
the warp and seizes from the bunches
one hair only—the jaws of the nipper
being too tine to grasp more than one—
and carries it across the weft threads,
dropping it into its exact place. The ac
tion of the loom mechanically forces the
hair next to its predecessor, the warp
crosses upon it, snugly holds it in its
place, the nipper travels back and seizes
another, and so on and on. The delicacy
and almost human accuracy with which
each separate hair is placed between the
warp threads is really incredible.— Up
holsterer.
The Italian National Dish.
Ravioli is the Italian national dish. It
l is expensive and is made with great
: labor. A celebrated Italian chef gives
i this definition of its component parts:
“You take,” he said, “some breasts of
chickens, a little sausage that is made
only in Italy, and of which very little is
used, as it is for flavoring only; calf’s
brains, parsley and bietola, and this is all
mixed into a paste. If you can afford it
you will also use truffles. Then you
make a pastry of eggs, flour and butter;
there must be no water used. This
pastry is worked hard on a board and
rolled as thin as paper. Then it is cut
into forms by using the top of a sherry
glass. The edges are scalloped and the
paste is put between two layers. Then
it is boiled in broth for thirty minutes
and put upon a platter: over it is poured
a gravy such as is used for macaroni, and
the whole is served with plenty of Par
mesan cheese. To make this properly
requires an experienced cook; but once
it is eaten the diner will never forget it.
It will linger in his dreams as one of the
delightful things of life. ” — Argonaut.
Canadian railway statistics show that
Canada has 12.638 miles in operation, as
increase of 80S miles during 1889,
BUDGET OF FUN.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
Two Views—Too Generous—Hard on
Cadley—He Was the Bigger
Man—lt WAs Applicable
Personally, Etc., Etc.
HE.
She looks so frail, so small, so nice,
So dainty and so neat:
So like an angel I should think v
She wouldn't need to eat.
HER LITTLE BROTHER.
Sis may be just as nice as pie,
But she can eat pie, too.
And pork and beans and buckwheat cakes,
And she just loves onion stew.
—New York Herald.
HARD OX CADLEY.
“You love my daughter?”
“Passionately.”
“Well, knowing you as I do, I feel
that the best way you can prove your
love for her is by giving her up,”—
Epoch.
MUTUAL FORBEARANCE.
She— “It is said that Madam Scream
otti is passionately fond of jewels but
cannot bear to have her ears pierced.”
He—“ Yes? I should think she would
show a little pity for her audience,then!”
—Dry Goode Chronicle.
STANDING STILL.
“The trouble with your town is that
people stagnate there.”
“Who, for instance?”
“Well, I know three girls there who'Ve
been twenty years old for the last eight
•years.” —New York Sun.
too generous.
“Is your husband a very generous
man?”
“Indeed he is. You remember those
nice cigars I gave him for a birthday
present? Well, he smoked only one,
and gave all the others away to his
friends.”— Epoch.
A HARD LIFE.
“I’ve trained down as tine a3 I can
get,” said the jockey, “and I’m still a
pound and a half overweight.”
“Well, there's no help for it,” re
turned the boss; “you’ll have to go to
the dentist and have your teeth pulled.”
—New York Sun.
HOW TO MAKE MARRIAGE A SUCCESS.
Husband—“ln this copartnership I
presume I shall be the disbursing partner
and you the silent one.”
Wife—“ Yes, dear, I will be just as
silent as I can be, but you must disburse
liberally or it will cause the silence to be
broken.”— Lowell Mai!.
HIS LABOR WAS NOT IN VAIN.
Algie—“You were out shooting to
day, weren’t you?”
Cholly—“Ya-as.”
Algie—“Did you bag anything?”
Cholly—“Ya-as.”
Algie—“ What ?”
Cholly—“My trousers.”— Munsey.
THE INTENTION WAS ALL RIGHT.
“You didn’t treat Smithers very well
lfter he resigned from the presidency of
your club.”
“Why? What did we do?”
“You posted a notice that ‘an election
would be held to fill the vacancy formerly
occupied by Mr. Smithers.’ ” —New York
Sun.
HE WAS THE BIGGER MAN.
Gosliu—“Hello, old man! how are
you? I haven’t seen much of you
lately.”
Maddox—“You have seen more of
me than I have of you.”
“How do you make that out?”
“Well, I’m much bigger than you.”—
Bazar.
IT WAS APPLICABLE PERSONALLY.
Mrs. Fangle—“l didn’t know vour
house wa3 too large for you, Mrs. Gaz
zam.”
Mrs. Gazzam—“Why, it isn’t.”
Mrs. Fangle—“Well, now, 1 thought
it wasn’t; but Mrs. Larkin said you had
lots of room to rent in your upper
story.”— Bazar.
HE AGREED WITH HER.
Constance—“l care not for your pov
erty, George. Let us wed at once. We
can live on one meal a day if necessary.”
George—“ Can you cook, love.”
“Yes, George. I attended cooking
school for two months.”
‘ ‘Then wo will wed. I think one meal
a day will answer.”— Statesman.
A LAW EXAMINATION.
Professor—“You are aware that in
certain cases the mother can be guardian
of her children, provided she is of
Now. can a grandmother also be a guar
dian?”
Student—“ Yes, sir.”
“Under what conditions?”
“Provided she is of age.”— Figaro.
a poet’s trials.
Managing Editor—“ What was it that
young fellow wanted?”
Office Boy—“He says that he wrote a
sonnet ’titled ‘Dolly’s Dimples,’ and it
got into the paper headed ‘Dolly's Pim
ples,’ and that ho wants it explained, as
it got him into trouble with something
he called his feeaacy. "—Cincinnati Ga
zette.
A PRELIMINARY TRIAL OF THE SLIPPERS.
Mrs. Spankwell (to shoe dealer)—
“May I try these slippers before I take
them?”
Shoe dealer—“ Why .certainly,ma’am.”
Mrs. Spank well (catching her hopeful
over her knee)—“Yell kinder easy,
Johnny. Tain’t as if we was nice and
cosey at home, you know.— Burlington
Free Press.
WHAT’S THE rsE OF a cable?
Captain of Ocean Greyhound—“ We've
struck an iceberg and the ship’s flllin|
with water! Passengers must prepare tc
take to the boats!”
Excited Passenger—“ Can’t you dc
anything to save the ship, captain?”
Captain—“ Nothing whatever.”
Excited Passenger—“ Goodness gra
eious! Why don’t you telegraph for as
sistance at once?”— Light.
PHILANTHROPIST AND PHILOSOPHER.
Wife—“ John, dear, define a philaa
thropist.”
Husband—“Aphilanthropist, my love,
is a maa who gives away other people's
money?”
W.—“And what is a philosopher?”
H.—“A philosopher is a man who
bears with resignation the toothache
from which his neighbor is suffering.” .
Pick-Me- Up.
HIS SOUL REVOLTED AT A LIE,
Judge—“ Are you guilty or not guilty ?’’
Prisoner—“ Not guilty.”
Judge (to witness) —“How much was
the stolen watch worth?”
Witness—“ Your Honor, it was worth
$l5O,
Prisoner (talcing the watch frdm his
pocket)—“That shows he can’t be be
lieved. Do you think that watch is worth
slso."— Jewelers' Weekly.
DURING AN EVENING STROLL.
Ethelmda— “No, I am not super
stitious.”
“Adolphe —“Do you believe in signs,
dear?”
Ethelinda—“Well, sometimes. Now
there is a sign ‘Soda Water,’ hanging
there in front of us—l do ndt think "that
is a fallacy.”
He didn't think it was either when he
took her in, and saw her effervesce with
three tumblers of it.-— Munsey.
what Alice said.
Maud (at the cooking school) —o'n,
girls, here comes Alice Bjinks! Now we
will find Out all About the way Charley
Thompson proposed to her last night (you
kuow she said he was sure to do it) and
just how she refused him. Now, Alice,
go on. What did you say? How did you
reject him?
Alice (blushing)—l—l can’t tell you.
Maud—What! You don't mean to say
that you won't tell us? Why not?
Alice—Because I accepted him?—Law
rence American.
in a daze.
First Miss—“ Where are you going
this summer?”
Second Miss—“l haven't the least
idea.”
Fiist Miss—“But can't you judge from
what you heard your pa and ma say?”
Second Miss—“ Well, from the way
ma talks I’d think we were going to New
York, Saratoga, Paris, Berlin, White
Mountains, Rome, St. Lawrence, and all
through Egypt. From the way pa talks
I’d think we were going to the poor
house.”—New York Weekly.
NO FARMING FOR HIM.
“Yes,” remarked Sam Sample, musing
ly, “the lotjjf a traveling man is hard,
1 admit, but there are many occupations
that are infinitely worse.”
“Yes,” was the response, “take for
instance the free and easy existence of
the farmer. He rises with the birds and
enjoys nature's beauty when she is at her
lovliest.”
“Very true, but I wouldn’t be a farmer
if some one would present me with the
best farm in the country.”
“Why not?”
“Because, as you probably know, a
farmer’s duty is sometimes simply harrow
ing.— Merchant Iraveler.
FLATTERED FOR IIER TACITURNITY,
i ‘ ‘That was a very foolish young woman
| in New York,” observed Mr. Billus, lay
ing his morning paper down for a
moment and renewing the attack on the
beefsteak, “that married the wrong man
the other day, and blurted out her con
fession to that effect at the altar. The
young man she didn't marry has had a
lucky escape.”
“Jies, she was foolish to make a fuss
at such a time,” assented Mrs. Billus,
who was staring abstractedly at the wall.
“Most women find out soon enough that
they have married the wrong man, but
they have sense enough to keep still
about it. Have some more coffee, John?”
she inquired sweetly. —Chicago Tribune.
A WITHERED ROMANCE.
The young man had seized her hand,
dropped on one kuee and had got as far
as— 1 ‘Encouraged by your smiles, dearest
giri, and by the kinduess with which
you have received my attentions, I am
emboldened to”—when he suddenly
stopped, his jaw fell and he stared in
blank dismay at some object back of the
young lady.
“Go on, Mr. Ferguson,” she said soft
ly, unaware of any reason why he should
pause.
“Yes, go on, Mr. Ferguson!” echoed
her father, who had just made his ap
pearance at the door in the background.
He held it invitingly open, and Mr.
Ferguson went on—until he reached the
sidewalk.
Edible Gourds.
A peculiarity of the plants producing
what we call gourds or calabashes is the
musk-like odor that most of them give
out when their leaves are pinched. We
generally look upon a gourd as some ■
thing unsuitable for the table, but Dr.
Harris states that when cooked several
of the varieties of Syria, Japan and
Brazil are quite palatable while young,
especially those which grow long, thin
and green, like the Hercules Club. The
fruit which furnishes the reticulated
skeleton used as a bathing-scrubber and
in making beautiful bonnets is in habit
and growth a cucumber, although some
times called a “dish-cloth gourd,” from
one of its uses in our Gulf States. In
India the natives eat one of the varieties
when quite young, but of a dozen varie
ties grown by Dr. Harris in Philadelphia
cone were tempting to the appetite —>
Garden and Ftnsi.