Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

VOL. I A Presage. I have a friend, a dear one. Her name—but why I confess You very rarely hear one More fascinating—guess! Her merry voice is sweeter Than any rillet's flow; Her laugh has more of metro Than any song I know. Her lovely eyes that lighten When robins softly sing Are like the skies that brighten At dawn in early spring; Her cheeks—his brain is duller Titan dunce's who'll not own They've all the pinky color Of apple buds half blown. You will agree it’s pleasant 'That such a one should send Each year a charming present To me, “her dearest friend." And this year I’ve a presage— It makes my pulses start— That with a tender message Slic’d give to me her heart. —Biucll Clinton in Harper's Magazine. NICE OLD WOMAN," BY FLORENCE At.LEX. “Oh dear!” It was a pretty little face which was all puckered up into such a lot of wor¬ little wrinkles; pretty in spite of shadow of care in the fair blue and tho tired drop at tiic corner of tho girlish mouth. Tnc owner of face and tho wrinkles and the blue and the niduth in question, was a rather delicate-looking girl of 18 who stood, attired in a faded calico dress, in the doorway of a small wood-colored cottage (or “cabin” as they mote truthfully call stick edifices tho mountains) looking out at the slope of the road before her. Two fresh-faced smiling girls of her age had just gone by, stopping to a pleasant word or two as they and the sight of their pretty, though simple, lawn dresses aud float - tibbons had brought, U3 they dc- parted, those worried wrinkles to the face that should have been as bright as theirs, and the impatient exclamation with ■which our story begins to ic T generally uncomplaining lips. As a general thing Phrosy Miller (she was E iphrosyno by rights, through the of her father, wiio had found the name in Ins sonic wHnt liinlte 1 and had delighted in its long drawn sweetness,) was a very chcerinl aud contented girl in spile of tie troubles and hard work that had come into her young life so early; but, just present, there was something especial her mind, and that was the pic- It was to be in just four weeks from and all the girls were going; nnd who had stayed at home so much and so patiently for the last year, felt ai though sho ready must go, too. But how? Tiint was the question that brought the worried little wrinkles to the front conspicuously. All the girls were going to have new hnvn dresses and ribbons for the occa.ion, and “do up’ her blue mu din as bast she could (and sho was something wonderful in the laundress line all her neighbors laid,) it would not look any way but and faded; and her ribbons—well, her small stock thereof had been cleaned and dyed and “done over” so often that were merely a travesty upon their Of course a new dross and the adornments would cost very but, as Phrosy said, tersely but “If diamonds could be bought a nickel apicca and one didn’t have nickel, where would be tho comfort it?” Money had been very tight iu tho family ever since Mr. .Miller’s long cudiug in his death, had j lit the little household under a load of debt which seemed at first, simply over- whelming. Ben Miller—a wild and reckless young ho had been while his father was and strong and able to care for the and sister—had steadied down and taken tho burden of ox- on his shoulders patiently and nanfully. Mrs. Miller and Phrosy had conomized in every way, even to the of taking some of the many wood- about as boarders, aud they had early and late and re wed and thernsclve3 until the debt was and the future began to look alit- brighter. Then fate frowned on them again. Mrs. Miller, a large, heavy jad somewhat unwieldy woman, in going [own the back-steps ono day made a lisstep and fell, receiving an injury to ‘sr side which made her utterly hetp- bs. Since then Phrosy had found life krder than ever. Additional doctor's ills piled in upon them; Mrs. Miller istead of helping as before was now as helpless as a baby and so nervously irri¬ table that keeping boarders longer was an impossibility even had Phrosy been to do the work. So it was that cent that came into the family had earned by Ben; and so it was that new lawn dress, so ardently desired, to be among the impossibilities for Ben’s wages were small THE ENTERPRISE f at best and there were at least a dozen ways for every dollar. And Plirosy thought altogether too much of her patient aud kind-hearted brother, who denied himself so much to keep her and his invalid mother from want, to add to his burdens by telling him her own troublos. 1 ‘If there was only something that I do myself to earn a little money,” she said to herself, “but there doesn’t to be. Mother wouldn’t hear to my running the machine steadily, even if I could get sowing to do, and there is nothing else. It's a hopeless case, I ” And, sighing heavily, Phrosy turned to enter tho homo in answer to a fretful call from within, but as sho did so her eyes fell upon tho clothes-line in the side-yard. “In one minute, mother,” sho said cheerily. “I’ll just bring Ben’s shirts as I como by,—they’re all ready to and I can iron them by the fire.” IIow white and clean and sweet they were! As Phrosy gathered them into a awkward bundle in her arms she not help bending her head to in¬ the “smell of outdoors” (as she called it) that came from them. “They smell different from Chinese washing,” she thought. “There's one certain,—poor as we are Ben’s are always the nicest done up in and then as that thought passed her miud it left an inspiration it. That night after supper, when Bon was resting himself from his day’s labor “puttering" around tho chicken- and back-yard generally, and Miller was chatting with a neigh¬ who had opportunely dropped in, pleading an errand'at the store, away from them all and pro¬ ceeded to put her inspiration to the' test of practicality. “It might bo a good idea,” kindly Mrs. Jenk n3, to whom she had gone in her emergency, “but there’s so o’ them plaguay Chincso around that it brings prices down dreadful, and most folks don’t care how a thing is done so it is done cheap.” “But my things don’t smell of and nastiness as tho Chinamen’s nveired Phrosy stoutly, “there must be somo one who would rather pay a little higher and Lave things „ < ( Such folks is scarcer than dia¬ monds iu dust heaps,’’ was the senten¬ tious reply, “1 Would myself, of course, but old Ma’am Gilman has kind of got a mortgage on me, aud though she’s failing dreadful and don’t send things home fit to be seen some weeks, I kinder can’t go back on her all at once.” “Of course not," assented Phrosy unhesitatingly, “that isn’t what I want at all. But—see here—you ask Joe to inquire around up to Loren’s mill and I do believe he’ll find something fov me. I don’t care to say a word to Ben or he’d fly all to - pieces—nor you needn’t toll Joe whoit is that wants the things—just let him say ‘some one who’ll do them tho best they can be done and needs the money. 1 tf “All right,” said Mrs. Jenkins, “I’ll keep it as still asm ce, whether it turns out well or not. You como by tomor¬ row night and I’ll toll you the verdict.” And so, full of hopes aud fears and fond imaginings, Phrosy went homo. The next night Mrs. Jenkins met her with her broad face beaming. “I’ve got six for you,” she said, delightedly, “and six times two bits is a dollar and a half! you arc in luck, Plirosy! ’Tain’t one of the mill hands cither, but a young fellow that has bought out the old Bradbury ranch. He’s been up" to tho city for tjio last week and more and come home with about a carload of dirty things—its been that hot up there, Joe says, that you can’t keep nothing decent two minutes, and old Mrs. Bul- gal that cooks up thcro don’t know beans about doing up, so tho grist naturally comc3 to your mill, and I’m glad of it for one.” “And I for two,” answered Phrosy gleefully, and then, with a light and thankful heart she took possession of her somewhat bulky bundlo and went merrily homeward. The next day six white shirts fluttered upon the Millers’ clothes-line; tho next day—stiff and shiny and odorous only of Heaven's pure breezes—they went to their owner, and Joe brought back to his mother in return tho silver which looked to Phrosy brighter and better than silver ever looked before. He brought something else, too, an over¬ grown bundle of shirts which had evi¬ dently seen sorrow and had not lived the lives that aristocratic white shirts ought to live. the mill boys,” he ‘ These belong to explained, “they got a sight at the others and nothing to do but they must send these down. They’re a pretty hard lot,” (meaning tho shirts and not the mill boys) “but I guess your old woman can get ’em clean, mother.” And his mother, chuckling a little as CARNESVILLE, GA., MONDAY, JANUARY 27.1890. she thought of “her old woman” took tho bundlo and informed her son that anything of tho kind was welcome until further orders. That week, in tho neighbors’ estima¬ tions, Bon Millor fairly blossomed with shirts, for tho number of those useful and ornamental garmonts that hung on the Millers’ lino was something abso¬ lutely unprecedented. “Thirteen shirts for one poor work¬ ingman is the worst I over heard!" as¬ severated tho woman next door, whose propiuquity gavo her, in her own esti¬ mation, a right to criticise the Millers with more frankness than “manners." “I wouldn’t slavo myself to death for the sako of Ben’s vanity if 1 was his sister I” But Phrosy smiled serenely. “I don’t call Bon over vain myself,’’ she answered, “and I’m suro 1 am not slaving myself to death or near it for any one, aud as long as I’m satisfied I don’t see what difference the size of my washings ought to mako to any one else.” And with this the officious and would-be inquisitivo neighbor was forced to retire discomSted. Phrosy went to the picnic under Mrs. Jenkins’ protecting wing (one of Mrs. Miller's whilom cronies consenting glad¬ ly to como and spend the day with hor) and she had on a fresh pink lawn and ribbons to match and looked for all the world like a pencil-blossom. The picnic was near tho “old Brad¬ bury ranch” and its new owner—:i tall, sun-burned, masterful young fellow with a plain, sensible face and a pair of eyes that seemed to Phrosy tho kindest that she had ever seen—made them wel¬ come to his home and was as hospitable as a tun Californian always is; and some way Phrosy was shyly conscious, after the first, that those kind eyes looked a trifle more kindly upon her than they did upon some of the more noticeable girls. Phrosy was always one of the useful ones, aud when it foil to her lot to oversee the arrangement of the lunch her new acquaintance very quietly dis¬ engaged himself from the others and devoted himself to hor assistance, aud Ben Miller, looking on from adistancc, saw and approved. “Phrosy’s worth her weight in gold,” he said to himself, “and Ddton is just the kind of a follow that sho ought to have. I’d give four bits to have it turn out that way.’’ That night Phrosy es mo home tired but radiant. John Dalton had har¬ nessed up his two-horse team aud brought part of tho picnickers down to the village himself, “just to be socia¬ ble,” he had said ; and ho had invit ed her to sit beside him on the front seat, and ho had, moreover, told Bon that he was coming down to play him a game of checkers now and then when the evenings got a little longer. What wonder was it that the world seemed rose-colored to Phrosy? and what wonder was it that when John Dalton—not waiting for the evenings to lengthen perceptibly—made his appear¬ ance in her homo and, after making friends with her mother, proceeded to devote himself especially to that lady’s daughter, that she thought herself the happiest girl in the world. Only one thing shadowed hor heart. Supposing that he should be angry when he found out that the shirts, which still came, through Mrs. Jenkins, to that mysteri¬ ous “old woman” wore her task, and that he was making lovo to his washer¬ woman? That fear made her almost cowardly after sho began to feel that she was growing to care for this quiet, manly, young fellow as she had never cared for any one else before; and al¬ though she knew that she must tell him someday, she put that day off as long as possible and grew, girl- fashion, as nervous and feverish and miserable as possible over her innocent little secret, until even her mother noticed that Phrosy was “fretting” as she called it, and wondered thereat. One day, John Dalton brought mat¬ ters to a focus by simply and seriously asking Phrosy if she could make up her mind to come to him, and let him take care of her as he had longed to do ever since ho first met her. “I think that I fell in lovo with you at first sight,” he said, in his straight¬ forward way, “and ever since then I have been hoping that you would let me make things easier for you some day. Do you care for me enough to be wife, Phrosy? ’ my Poor Phrosy!—she blushed and hesi¬ tated and then put out her hands like a frightened child. “I—I am afraid I do,’’ she faltered, “but first I must tell you about—about the shirts!” John Dalton was mystified, but cer¬ tainly there was nothing about shirts that could separate them, lie prisoned the pleading hands lovingly and smiled down into her blushing face. “Never mind the shirts,” he said, “Ben must get some one else to do his up for the future; and, as for me, you’ll never have any trouble about mine, for there is a nico old woman who does tnino up liko now—you couldn’t get the jolt away from her if you wanted to, mj dear. ” Phrosy’s faco was a sight to see now, between laughing nnd crying, orabar- rassrflent anti half-frightened amuse¬ ment. “Oh, Johu Dalton!’’- she said, pushing him away very feebly, “you’ll never want to marry mo now, for it isn’t Ben’s shirts I am thinking of at all—it’s yours; aud I—I nevor meant to deceive you at all, but I wan tod a new dress so badly, at first; aud thou, after¬ wards, it was such an oaiy way to earn a little, and it helped niong so. Please don’t bo angry, and please don’t laugh, but Pm tho ‘nice old woman,’ John, and I am very sorry!” * * * riuosy Miller is Mrs. John Dalton now, and is as happy as possible in hot lovely home, whore her mother has grown strong and well, and whoro Ben has always a room and place of his own. Sho doesn’t “do up” shirts at all now, for tho babies claim her attention; but as her husband’s linen is always itn- mnculato it is to bo supposed that some other “nico old woman’’ has boon found who gives satisfaction in that line.— The Hvusclo if a. Can Fish Smell and Taste? Vision aud hearing in fish being tho senses most important tctfhc, angler in his water sports, those next in value are smell and taste. Tho possession of these by fish seems to be a disputed point. They have evidently tasto in a modified degree, as they will reject tho artificial lure if the barb cf the hook is not immediately imbcddcl in their flesh; but, on tho other hand, they will take a leather or rubber imitation of tiie natural bait with .is much gusto as a live minnow or bug—hence tho question is a see-saw one. Fish, no doubt, in common with other animals, have the instinct of dan¬ ger developed almost to the quality of reason; and it is no bar ;o tho truth of this to argue that, because a fish will take the bait wilu a half dozen broken hooks in its mouth, it follows a brutish appetite that is blind to dan¬ ger, for, look you, bo ye an angler or a butcher, that stomach of yours i; death to you every day of your life; that smoking dish, be jt a red herring or canvasback duck, is causing you to mako rapid strides graveward, and you kuow it; an 1 yet you gorge yourself every day upon your favorite dish. It ill becomes a man to argue that, because an animal cannot control its appetite, it has not the lordly gift of reason. To sum up: Can a fish tasle? Certainly—ho spits out h;s artificial bait. Can a fish smell? Aye, there’s tho rub; yet why tho anointed lures so prized by old anglers and many modern ones? This fact, however, is sure; fish are susceptible to anger and jealousy; for wo have seen them fight, and wo all know how tiger- liko in combat salmon and trout aro on their spawning bods. —New York News. Spectacles.' Spectacle wearers, especially elderly people, frequently imagine that specta¬ cles with large glasses are preferable tc those with smaller glasses. There is but one advantage in using largo glasses, which is, when the spcctaclo frame doos not fit the face so that the centre of the lenses do not come opposite to tho pupil of tho eyes. Three-quarters 0 f one inch is plenty large enough if the lenses are set in a frame that causes their centres to come opposite to tho pupil for the following reason; In tho first place, the glasses being small, they can be much thinner, a very decided advantage ; secondly, only about one-quarter of an inch of glass can be used, because we eaniiot see dis¬ tinctly through a glass, except we look straight through, and not obliquely, henco all spectacles and eyeglasses should be worn at tho same angle that we generally hold the print or the paper which we arc reading or writing upon; thirdly, a great many.rays of light pass from behind over our shoulder, fall on the glass, and arc reflected in the eye, without having passed through tin glass. The Boys Are Attached. The Lawrence churches have a system of interchangeable girls. When one church gives an entertainment each of the other churches lends a ? iriri or so tc help the festivities along, his secures the. floating trade of a dozen or so young meu who arc attached to no church but who are attached to tho girls.— Law¬ rence {Kan.) Journal. He Saved Himself in Time. Ella—I kuow I am ugly but I lovo you, Erast us. I have $20,000 a year. Will you marry me? Erastus—Yes, darling, I’d marry you if you were twice as ugly—as you think you are, my beautiful fciruic. USEFUL CROWS. Utilized in Omaha as Scavengers and Weather Prophets. Recognition of Their Services by the Authorities. An article lias been going the rounds tho press regarding the great scav¬ of Omaha—tho crows. The ar- ticlo is correct, Hut it doos not tell one- half of tho peculiarities of tho situa¬ tion. The home of the crows, or to put it more correctly, their roost, is on “tho island,” a sandbar of some thirty or forty acres locatod- about one ntiio north of tho cily. It is cut off from the river by a change in the channel, and although on tho west side of the river, it lies within tho Iowa boundary. This islatfd is covered witli a thick un¬ dergrowth and hr willow nml water birch trees of several years’ growth. Ilero the crows have been congregating for a number of years past. Dining the daytime there me but fow to be seen about the island,except a scattering con¬ tingent seemingly left bohind to act as seutinols. But from sundown to sunrise thcro are thousands upon thousands of them on the island, and until (he shades of night finally closo tho commotion about tho place is exceedingly great. As soon as daylight appears the noiso begins again, each particular crow seem¬ ing to clamor his very loudest as if with tho object of roducing his neighbor to silence. Then as the sun uproars his head over the Iowa bluffs tire roost breaks up into small parties of about a score, which start off in all directions to forage. Some of tho -crows spen 1 the day in the back yards and alloys of tho city and even in the sheets of the quieter parts and make away with all kinds of edible refine. In fact, they aro tho most careful scavengers tho city has, and tho local authorities have rec¬ ognized their services in this particular by'placing on the statute-books n law making sacred tho life of the crows and upholding their “caws" in lolteraswoH as in spirit. Others of tho crows visit South Omaha with the same intent. The packing-house there, however, turn out little refuse, as pretty nearly eveiything excepting the horns of the steer and the squeal of the pig is utilized on the spot. Other parties of birds invadt tho sur¬ rounding country for roilci around, to come back again at night to their favor¬ ite roosting-place. J of J Hill, an old character who lives in a small house on the northern part oi the island, has found a new use for tiie crows. A long and persistent study of their habits and instincts hai convinced him that the crow is tho most compe¬ tent and reliable weather prophet in ex¬ istence. Hill told the writer a short time ago that he could toll what the weather was going to bo twenty-four or forty-eight hours ahead as easily as though ho had the full Signal Service reports. In fact, he says he has surer information than the Signal Servico men, for they frequently err, whilo his crows never fail to tell the truth. “Why,” said lie, “every timo we have a cold east storm you will see these crows rise up in a body and take themsolvo3 over tho hill yonder into the sheltered Papio valley, nnd they will remain there until the back¬ bone of the storm is broken and then como back, telling mo that clearing weather is at hand. If there is a cold sleet or snow storm coming from tiie west or northwest, they will move across the river and take up quarters on tiie cast side of tho Iowa bluffs. The other day, before wo had the frost, I noticed the crows fluttering around in a peculiar manner, and just before sunset they moved over to the swamp along C’ui-off lake. I at once knew that there wis going to he colder weal her, aud that the crows were seeking a warmer placo near the water. They have plenty of other ways of telling me what to expect in the way of weather, and really I have got so used to them that I would be lost if they were to move their quar¬ ters. ” The old man is likely, however, to his pels, as the island, which has never been built up, because of the fear that the Missouri river might some day take a notion to return to its old chan, ncl, is soon to be occupied by railroad yards.— N. Y. Tr.bune. Keeping Up With the Supply. Freddie K. aged five, contractcii the habit of eating his food very rapidly. Repeated scoldings failed to correct tlie habit. F.nally his mother one day an¬ grily said : “Freddie, what makes you eat so fast?” With a mouthful of food, and with¬ out stopping for an instant in Ids mas¬ ticatory operations, tho youngster mum¬ bled : “’Tausc I want to see what's turning next .”—'Detroit Tribune. scientific sours. Human life is estimated to hare lengthened twenty-fivo per cent, during tho last half-century. A famous German physician says that moro Americans kill thomsclvos by eat ing too fast than by all other diseases combined. Copier of rare books and editions are now manufactured in Germany nnd Franco by moans of a chemical procoss, Tho fac-similes arc good, but their durability is uncertain. A region whoro buffaloes aro increas¬ ing, nnd that at a rapid rate, is North Austialia. Specimens of tho wild buf¬ falo wore introduced in 1S29, and vast herds aro said to bo now wandering over tho country. A chemical compound, it is said, has boon discovered in England which, ii sprinkled on coal whilo it is being burned, will prevent smoko, and a largo company has been formed in London to utilize tho smokeless patent. Tho oldest mark of human lifo is believed to bo a flint idol recently brought up from a depth of 320 feet by a saud-pump near Boise City, Idaho, nnd now in tho possession of Professor G. Frederick Wright of Obcrlin col¬ lege. Tho flooding of a Fiji plantation by an unusually high tide lately resulted in tho important discovery that disease of bananas may be prevented, and a healthy growth secured iu youug plants, by tho application of sea-water to the ground, Tho skin of a corpse has boon success¬ fully transplanted to a livtng person by Dr. Bat tens. Upon the legs of a scalded boy were placed twenty eight small grafts, takcu from the body of a luna¬ tic who died about twenty minutes be¬ fore, and of these twenty-four united. It is next to incredlblo that surgeons performing tho familiar operation of laparotomy should leave foreign sub¬ stances in the abdomen, and yet this is so frequently done that good practi¬ tioners make it an invariable rule to count their instruments before and after tbe operation. A fact which is well worth knowing, especially in tho winter, is that the formation of steam on glass is pre¬ vented by a thin coat of glycerine on both sidos of tho glass. This is very useful knowledge for sailors, and also for surveyors who hnvo to use their in¬ struments in foggy weather. In view of tiro wholo--a!o doforesling of many parts of the country, it is sat¬ isfactory to know that, steel is super¬ seding wood in many industries, O. this one of the latest illustrations is a steel wheel for a carriage, and many of tho leading carriage mami'ucturcn say that it is a matter of only a short time whenwoodon wheels will be a curiosity, as good lumber for wheels is becoming so scarce that its use will, perforce, he abandoned. Ill-Fitting Shoos. An old uncle of mine, living iq Brooklyn, says a New Yorker, lias very small feet for a “six-footer,” and has always been proud of them to the ex¬ tent of wearing the smallest shoo that his shoemaker can fit to them. He is a physician and ought to know what proper iu tho matter. I said to him one day: “Don’t you wear pretty tight shoes?” “I wear shoes that tit well,” he ro- plied. “They don’t hurt you, then?” “No, I should not wear anything that was uncomfortable; I’m too fond of walking for that.” “Aren’t troubled with corns, then, suppose?” had since I “No, haven’t a corn a boy. I am of opinion that a that fits snugly all over is less likely to givo trouble than ono that is compara¬ tively loose and out of proportion the foot. 11 An ill-fitting pair of shoos generally gives the wearer trouble because of uncompensated pressure at two site paints, the first joint of the toe and the articulation of the toe with the metatarsal bone, says writer. Between these tho foot widest, and hero the shoo may pinch, although largo and loose else. Then, too, in walking the al¬ terations of pressure and friction ex- pcricnced in wearing such shoes final¬ ly produce a corn on the outer of the little toe, or on both that the great toe joint. Looking Forward. “Father, what on eartli induced to buy such a picture as this? It is more daub, and you can’t tell which the bottom of it and whigli tho top.” t ‘ That’s very true, my daughter, don’t know whether the picture sents a sunset view or a sioriu at sea, but the artist may get famous in to come, and then we can sell the picture for a fortune. ” NO. I, Old Songs. Over ami over again, In every time and tongue, In every stylo and strain Have the world’s old songs been sung! - Sinco the sigh from the soul was stirred, Since the heart of a man was broken, Have tho notes of despair been heard And tho rythm of pain beenspoken. The soiig that yon sing today, Sweet on the printed pages, Was sung in the far away, In the youth of the worn-out ages; The charm of your love-bom tune, The gems that your lines uncover, Were set in some savage tuho By the heart of some pagan lover. Tho fancies that fill your rhymes, Tho visions that haunt your lays, Are tho spectres of olden times And the ghosts of forgotten days; Ye players on notes of woe, Ye dreamers of lovo and sorrow, They sang in tho years ago The songs you will sing to-morrow. But what if tho rhymes are new, And what if the thoughts are old, If the touch of the chord be truo And the flight of .he singer bold! Bet them come to us still again, To-morrow and yet hereafter, Fresh as a morning's rain, Old as the sob nnd tho laughter. HUMOROUS. A flourishing man—Tho professor of penmanship. “Aro those your paternal estates?” “No, they are my aunt hills.” Why not cad a balloon a tramp? It has no visible moans of support. First Cucumber—I’m in bad shape. Second Cucumber—You do look seedy. Tho eaglo is dear to the Amefican heart, but the doublo caglo is twice as dear. Tito monkey goes to tho sunny sidq of the tree when lie wants a wanner climb. Fust Aspen Loaf—What’s the matter? 8;cond Aspen Leaf—Oh, I’m all of a tremble. Old Lady (fo clerk in general store) —Young man, I want some powder. Clerk—*-Yes, ’m, boy or girl? Tho sentence “Ten dollars or thirty days” is another proof of the truth of tiie adage that time is monoy. Tiio Philosopher at the Boarding¬ house— 1 ‘Mrs. Brown, am I so very large today, or is it tiie slice of bread that is so small?” Wo know men who insist at every point upon beating their way through life, but we observe that they all draw the line at a carpet. Stanley has taught the Africans some¬ thing about exploration, but lie has not taught them how to spell. The names of some of tho placos lie has visited would break a II issian’s jaw. How the Trout Was Untight. Otis Goddard of East Hill, walked into Blakoslcy, Penn., the other day to have his oxen shod. While wait¬ ing in the blacksmith shop, Urn brawny young back woodsman told this fish story, declaring that Jack ifuyner, who was with him when ho caught the trout, would swear to every word of his statement. For months God¬ dard had tried to land a wily old trout that lurked in on ; of tho deep pools in Tobyhanna Creek. Ho had angled, ho said, with flies, grasshop¬ pers, worms, minnows and other kinds of bait, but lie couldn’t get tho big trout to notice any of them. He had scon tho cunning speckled fellow timo and again and lie wanted him ever so much. Oao day in July he caught a little elect- mouse in tiie pasture, and he stuck his hook through the loose skin on the mouse’s neck and threw it into tho pool, it w.n a lively swimmer, but it hadn't swam six feet bnforo the trout gobbled it with a dash that sent lib snout out of tho water. That win an unfortunate move for tho trout, because within live sec¬ onds Goddard had h m flapping 011 dry land, with his hat over tho fight¬ ing beauty. The trout weighed two pounds nnd fourteen ounces, Goddard declared. The Triumphs of Surgery. A remarkable instance of surgical progress which occurred iu tbe practice of Prof, von Bergmann of Berlin the ether day is reported. The Professor had two patients who were simultane¬ ously brought to him for operations, one requiring amputation of the thigh at the hip joint, the other needing a portion of the humerus removod on ac¬ count of the bone Icing extensively diseased. The first operation to bo done was the amputation, and imme¬ diately afterwards the surgeon pro¬ ceeded to excise the diseased portion of the humerus. The result of this latter procedure was necessarily to make a gap in the bone, but a piece of tho thigh hone w:t3 taken from the limb which had just been amputated aud fixed in tho gap, by which tho con¬ tinuity of tho humerus was completely restored. Perfect union took place, and the patient recovered with a tisdftl! arm .—Pall Mall Gazette.