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VOL. I. My Losson. "Yon have only two?" the lady said, As she glanced at my babes at play, And I answered her, "Only two on earth." And then I wept to say, As my grief came surging back agaiu, \ My grief so deep, so wild, "Alas it was only a month ago, I lost a little child.” A dear little girl with bright, black eyes, Unlike the other two, The one with eyes of hazel brown, The other with heaven's blue; A dear little girl with a laughing face, And sunshine iu her hair, Whose lisping voice and pattering fee Made music everywhere. Atld 1 grieve when I mis* a single note From the music of baby feet. And I weep for the tangle of sunny hair That is lost from my cluster sweet; For the prattling lips, the clinging touch, The hand upon my knee, When the chord was full, and the group complete, And my children numbered three. And then I noticed the room was still, That the children stopped their play, That they looked at each other, and then at me, In a wondering, sorrowful way. Then the oldest one, with the hazel eyes Came to my side in tears, ■She was only five, with a tender heart, And thoughtful beyond her years. “What is the matter with mama’s child?" This was the answer given: “You said that you lesed a little child, I fought she was gene to heaven? And why don't you look for her every day, Until you find her again? And not sleep a wink’till you bring her home Out of the cold and rain?” Then I hushed my grief for the little child, Lying under the sod; I had learned a lesson from baby lips: “Not lost, but gone to God.” —Ida J. Hail, in Atlanta Constitution. The Mother of Marius “And there’s an end of itl ’ said Marius Gray, letting his haud full de¬ spairing y on the table. He had just returned from his weary day’s work, which had stretched itself far into the night—he wa3 engaged on a newspaper, aud was beginning to earn good wages as assistant foremiu in one of the department*—and had permed a letter which had laid on the table at his lodgings. “An end of what?” asked Harold Morse, his room-mate aud companion. “Of my three years’ work,” Gray answered—“of all that Iv'e been toiling and striving for so long. ” “You don't mean,” sail Morse, that you would let this make any differ¬ ence with your plant?” “It must make a difference, H ill. “In the name of common sense, what difference? ’ “Don’t you see? Now that my good old grandfather is deid, I've got to make a homo for my mother. I've got to support her and see that life is rnado easy for her in her old age.” “Oh, I seel’said Morse, shrugging his shoulders. “Alice won’t relish the idea of a mother-in-law—is that it? ’ “1 shall not ask her, Ilal. M/ first duty is to my mother." ■“But the little house you've bought, aud the furniture you've been selecting piece by piece, and the carpet that you've laid up for yard by yard, aud tho very mossrose-bush by the door- stone—” “I hope my mother will enjoy thorn, Hil," said Gray, with something like a quiver ou his lip. ‘‘But I once heard Alice make some laughing jest about tho terrors of a mother-in-law. It wasn’t much. I don’t think she at¬ tached any particular importance to it, but stiil it lia* stuck to my memory. In the recollection of that, I can’t nsk her to share any divided empire in niy home.” “Oh, hang it!” cried Morse, flinging his paper on tho table. “What do women want to be so cranky foi? Why cau’t they bunk in together as com¬ fortably a* men do? I 11 go bail A*cc Ardley would go through fire and water for her own mother. Why should • e feel differently toward tho mother of the man she loves!” “There’s all the difference in the world,” said Gray, sally. And so ho svent to bed to ponder over this new complication of events; and when ho foil a-loop he droainod that he bad just brought a bride homo to the little cottage whore the white muslin curtains rustled in tho wind, and the mossrose-bush was in fu 1 blossom, and somehow Alice Ardley’s blooming face was frilled arouud with cap borders and decorated with an immense pair of *1- ver spectacles. he “Of course, Gray will do as pleases," said Morse; but if I were he I’d see this old lady further before I allowed her to upset all my life-calcula¬ tions in this sort of way. IV by can t he get her boarded out soiniwliere? or admitted into a respectable ‘Horn; or ‘Refuge,’ something of the sort? ’ or “I suppose,” said the man who worked next him in the sviill-paper dc- signing factory “Iccause she is his mother I ’ “Hang sentiment”' was Msrse’s re- ply- THE ENTERPRISE. To Marius Gray's credit bo it spokon that he never for an inotant hesitated as to what decision to muke. He wrote an affectionate letter to his mother, telling her of tho little homo which was now at her disposal, and offering to como to Montreal and bring her thither at any time which shcshould fix. And this loti or safely dropped into the nearest mail box, he next bogan to consider tho forthcoming explanation with Alice Ardlcy. Ho went to see her that very evening. Sho was a music teacher, aul lived iu one of those genteel, comfortless board¬ ing-houses which afford so poor a sub¬ stitute for real home*, and she came down into the parlor, where tho gas was economically lowered, and tho scent of the vcgetab'.o soup that had boon s. ed for dinner still lingered. (1 Oh, Marius I” she said, with a littlo gurgle in her voice, “I've been wanting to see you so much." “Havo you, Alice?” He stood holding both her hands in his own. “I’ve got such a favbr to ask of you, Marius—and oh, I don’t know how to do it, after ail the hateful things I've said about mother-in-laws, and that sort of thing!” faltered she. Ho stood still listening, and after a short pause, Alice went hurriedly on: “It’s my Aunt Alethea. I’ve got to take her home aud take care of her, for tho cousin who has supported her all these years can’t do it any more; and oh, Marius, w-e can’t be married unless —unless you will bo very good and kiud and let old Aunt Alethea como and live with u*. I’m sure sho can’t be a great deal of trouble and I’ll keep on with my music lessons to furnish her with clothes. She’s a very nice, quiet old lady, and—but if you’i rather not, Marius, say so at once, an l of course the engagement will be at an end. t / Marius Gray's face lighted up. “Alice, forgive me I” he said. “You have shown g eater confidence in me than I have done in you. As far as I am concerned your aunt will be most welcome in any home that you and 1 are to share together, But, Alice, I had come here to ask you to release me from our eng igcment.” Alice gave a little start. “Marius!’’ she cried. “Oh, Marius, you don’t menu it? ’ “For tho reason,” he weut on, “that it is now incumbent on me to support my mother, who has heretofore Lved with her father. I didn’t liko to ask you, dear, knowing your opinion on tho subject of—well, of mothers-iu- law, to share your home kingdom with any one else; and there was no other home to bring my mother to. But now—” “Marius,” cried A'ico, “it’s quite true what you say. You have put no confience in me. If I could trust you to be good to my poor old aunt, could you not have been sure that I would love your mother?” “I am sure of it uow, Alcic,” said the young man, still holding her hand tenderly iu his. “And I svon’t release you from your engagement,” declared Alice, disguis¬ ing her emotion under a very effective pretence of gay badinage, “I’ve been taking lessons at a cooking school anl making up household linen, aud I mean to show your mother and my Aunt Alethea what a capital housekeeper I can be. And oh, how proud I shall be when they eat the first dinner I cook in my own house! ’ “Alice, you are an angel!” asserted Gray. “No, lam not,” said Alice. “I’m only a silly, chattering girl, avho says lots of things that she is sorry for afterwards. Bet I know how gool and forgiving you are, and you shall seo how dearly I svill love your mother for your sake until I have learned to appreciate her for her osvn.” S) Alice Ardley and Marius Gray were quietly marriod, and on their wed- ding trip thoy went to Montreal to bring the old mother home. Mrs. Gray, Senior, was a trim, erect littlo woman, dressed in black serge, svith her rosy old face surrounded by tho neatest of caps. She came back to the cottage with them. how chil- “I shall be glad to see my dren live,” said she. And she took a great fancy to Aunt Alethea, who was waiting on tho door¬ step to receive them—a meek, soft- voiced old Q lakeress, who moved noiselessly about and looked liito a human dove in gray plumage. “I wonder,” she sa:d, “how Friend Alethea—for she won t let one call her ■M ss Ardley'—would like a situation as companion and reader? She reads aloud charmingly, That bit of the daily piper she read us yesterday, A ice, 1 declare 1 thought I could sec with my cvervlking that happened! ' own eyes be delighted, • I think she wou’d CARNESVILLE, GA„ FRIDAY, JUNE 6.1890. mother," said Alice. “Ii’s a dreadful trial for her to be dependent on any one for a living; but there are no such nice places to be found. “I know of one, ” said Mrs. Ar.llcy. “Where?” asked Alice. ‘‘In Montreal.” ‘ But I couldn’t trust Aunt Alethea with any one but a very kiud lady.” “Well, this lady is kind. At least she'll try to be. For she is myself, daughter Alice. “You, mother? But I thought you were going to live with us!’’ exclaimed Alice. “My son Marius aud you sce:n to tako that for granted,” said the old lady, with a twiuklo of her bright, bli ck eyes. “But you ate wrong, nevertheless. No, I am not going to live with you, I’m very glad to have caught a glimgse of you iu your happy little home, my dear; but I've an idea that young marriod people are better by themselves—for a year or two at least. And my father left me some real estate in Moiitreal which has increased very much in value, and I can live as I pleaso now. Some day it will all bo yours; but in the meantime I shall take Friend Alethea back with me, and we’il be company for oach other. Once in awhile we’ll come anl visit you, and mind you both take excellent care of each other.” So vanished Mrs. Gray aud quiet lit¬ tlo Aunt Alethea from the scene. “And here we are, just where wo originally planned to be,” said Mirim, as he and Alice stood at the door, where the mossrose was in bloom, watching the wheels of the hack that bore the two old ladies away. ' Y-es! ’ faltered Alice with a tear in her eye; but I never thought I could bo so sorry to see a mother-in-law go out of the house.” Superstitions of the Chinese. It has often been a matter of conjec¬ ture why a Chinaman should be so par¬ ticular in sleeping with his head toward the east. When at home, or traveling, or visiting, the Celestial, if among strangers, exeicises no little care to avoid sleeping in any other position than the one which he has been brought up to look upon as the most correct and healthful to his mind. According to the Chinese superstition it is exceedingly dangerous to sleep with the head toward tho setting sun. The sleeper might justly fear darknes3, unhappiness and death; that is, of course, if he is believer. From the north comes coldness, loneliness and barrencss, and to sleep with his head in that direction wou'd be to bring down upon himself and family these products of the pole. The south siguifies passing glory; a limitation of wealth, health and happi¬ ness. Therefore, that is extremely un¬ desirable. But to the ea*t—the source of the rising <uu in all its splendor—is where tho Celestial looks for all his good gifts. From it com* (so lie be¬ lieves) light, life, wealth and Happi¬ ness. No misery, or wretchedness, or want can como from tho glorious east; so he must sloep with his head in that direction, in order to get the full benefit of the good gifts which will come to him. Often, in traveling, Chinamen carry a mariner’s pocket-compa'S, iu order that, when the time comes to retiro j they may discover svhich way to point their heads. If they make a mistake and sleep the wrong way, they are like¬ ly to lose just so much health and hap- pine*s. With a dead Chinaman this is reversed; for sve believe that after death the body has nothing to lose, and the head, therefore, is placed before tho west. It is a fact worthy of notice and men¬ tion that those Chinamen who have be¬ come Christianized follow the old super¬ stition about sleeping just as much as the heathen who steps his foot on American soil for the first time. They look upon it as truth, and not supersti¬ tion, from childhood up, and it is hard to break down the teachings of a mother and father, especially in China.— Lilies' Home Journal. California's Remarkable Soil. “The soil of California is so fruit¬ ful,” said a native of the Golden State, “that a man who accidentally dropped a box of matches in his field discovered the next year a fine forest of telegraph poles.” That’s nothing to ray state,” said a native of Illinois. “A cousin of mine who lives there lost a button off bis jacket, and in less than a month ho found a brand-new suit of clothes hang¬ ing on a fence near the spot.” — Texts Siftinej<. ________ His Progress. i^usi/away—You say you are-going to call on Miss Palisade. What! in that shabby outfit ? Clevertcn—My dear boy, I’ve got 'way beyond tho point where she noticos what I wear. POLITE SWEDES. A Nation of Gentlemen from King to Coal-Heaver. The Universal Truthfulness and Honesty of Norsemen, The beantiful politeness aud courte¬ sy of the Swedes is a thing that is very striking to visitors. They havo a largo assortment of bows, bobs, courtesie* and hat-liftings, according to ago and sex, but the lifting of the hat to mere acquaintances reaches, 1 fancy, much lower down in the social sca'o than elsewhere in Europe; it looks odd to see the butcher boy in a blouie elabor¬ ately taking off his hat to the baker’s assistant. I suspect, on examination, Swedish hats would be fouu l to con¬ tain a little cxira stiffening, in order to enable them to stand tho wear and tear of these greetings in the market places. On ono occasion, when going by steamboat to Upsala, I noticed a very quaint example of this national trait. The steamboat, as it nca'S Upsala, passes throrgh many shallow reaches of the Malar Lake, where the depth of water is insufficient to allow of tho passengers being lauded in the ordinary manuer directly on the landing stages, and so have to bo taken on shore in small boats. The ferryman on shipping his complement of passengers would first take a dozen strokes or so in order to clear the screw of the steamer, and then would cniefu'ly lay aside his oars, rise from his scat, aud take off liis hat with a solemn bow to tho people sitting in tho stern whom he had just taken off tlie dock of the steamer. lie would then row on again and put them ashore. This d id not occur as an isolated in¬ stance, but regularly every time the passengers had to be landoi by shore- boats. The women of the middle and lower classes are little if at ail behind their husbands and brothers in this matter. Their good temper and pretty behavior are worthy of all praise. The servant girls in Dalecarlian peasant dress, the cafe mamselles, and (lie young persons employed in shops aili make the pretti¬ est of all possible little bob courtesie*, and so, oddly enough, do the young ladies of good family^ up to the day of their confirmation, which ceremony takes place rather later than with us, generally about the age of sixteen. From that day forth they put their hair up and take to bowing. The Upsala students amuse one a good doat by tho elaboration an l cer¬ emoniousness of their manners. Any day during the vacation a few of them may be seen gathered around a table iu the garden cafe of Hassolbacken or Tivoli, drinking their punch. They are mostly lads under twenty, but they bow to each other, and make little civ¬ il specc'ics, and p’edgo each other with solemn satutation, all according to the strictest Swedish etiquette, as if they were middle-aged gentlemen of high dignity and position but slightly acquainted with one another. Tney certainly tako themselves very seri¬ ously. Tho custom of pledging or health- drinking is a survival from very ancient times. The glass is raised, a slight bow made, the word skat (literally bowl) pronounced, followed by another slight bow, when the glass is replaced on the table, generally empty; it is not do rigueur, however, that it should be so, but iu Denmark, where a similar custom obtains, tho glass must always be drained to tho last drop. To E 1- glish eyes it appears quaint to see this complicated ceremonial observed to¬ wards each other by college companions not yet out of their teens. That this universal courtesy and po¬ liteness is not merely on the surface is proved by the trouble to which Swe des will invariably put themselves in order to be of use to a stranger in need of help or information. 8s much is this the case that I at last tried to avoid making my way in the country round about Stockholm, because it so often happened that the countryman whom I interrogated would lay aside his occu¬ pation and accompany me some little distance in order to make sure of set- ting me on the right path, For this service he would seldom accept any recompense. Another poiDt which soon attracts the attention of visitors is the punc- j tilious honesty ani truthfulness of the ! Swede5 i this is best seen in the many ' little incidents of daily life. When asking for places at a theatre, for in¬ stance, the ticket e'erk never fails to inform you if, owing to the crowded state of the house, a better position | would be secured with a cheaper ticket than the one asked for. Again, when parcels are taken out by steamers from Stockholm to country places in the neighborhood they are just thrown out on to tho quay, where they frequently remain half '.he day without being claimed. It nover seems to occur to any ouo that they could possibly be taken by any one but their rightful own¬ ers. On n trip of any iongth, as for insianco to Gothenburg by canal, a littlo book lies in tho saloon of the steamer iu which each pnssougor keeps his own rcount of the number of meals, cafes, cognac*, etc., he may take during tho journey. But, iudeed, it is impossible to talk to a Swcdo for any length of time and not see how incapable of any meanness or dishonesty ho must be. Theio is nearly always a simplicity and straightforwardness of manner the very antipodes of affcc'ation, which is cer¬ tainly a very pleasiug attribute, and which can fctrcely fail to cmvinco the least observant person that ho has bc- foro him a man who thoroughly respects himself, and who walks very steadfastly on the straight lino. Tho Swedes, you feci, are a nation of gen¬ tlemen dow’ii to the coal-hcavcrs and the wharf-men. — Temple Bur. A Buffer Meets a Consumptive. You have seen the duffer—.1 hulking big fellow, with a bullet head aud lots of wind aud fat, but without an ounce of sand in his craw, lie always picks his man, and ho always means to be ccrtaiu that he has got hold of some¬ body who can be bluffed aud bull¬ doze I. There was a chap of just this sort—a duffer from Duffervillo—in the crowd of passengers oblige 1 to wait at the depot in Decatur, Alabama, for several hours on account of a railroad accident. After half an hour everybody sized him up for what he was, but he was per¬ mitted to go blowing around because no one wanted the excitement of a row. IIj boasted of his fights and his victories, and ho tried hard to pick a fuss with two or three farmers, and finally got hi* eye on something good. It was a tall, slim, hollow- eyed man from Ohio, who was evidently on his way to Florida to die of consumption. He had a deathly look to his face, aud as he wandered up and down the plat¬ form ho coughed in a hollow and dis¬ mal way. Duffer arranged to moet him in his walk, and at ones loudly demanded: “Did you move my valise off the seat? ’ “No, sir,” was the reply. “Well, I want to find the man who did; I can mop the earth with him in two minutes.” “Well, I don’t care who it was. »> “Oh! You don’t! Mighty indepen¬ dent, you?” “Go away from me, sir I I don’t know you and don’t want to.” “Don’t you? If you were only a well man I’d make you eat mud. As it is, don’t give mo too much sass or I’ll teach you manners." “You are a loafer, sir—1 first-class loaferl” said tho Buckeye, as he con¬ tinued to walk. “I never strike a sick man,” replied the other, “hut I will tweak your no3o once just to reduce your temperature. Now come-■” Ho reached out with thumb and fin¬ ger, but he d du’t get the nose. In- stca 1 of it he got it biff! bang! in tho face with the right and left, and as he went down the consumptive kicked him to his feet and knocked him over a baggage truck. Ho didn’t got up again until two men assisted him. Ho had two bunged eyes, a bloody nose and a bleeding mouth, and he looked about in a helpicis way and stam¬ mered : “Gen—gentlemen, lead me some¬ where where I can be alone. ” When he had gone some one asked the consumptive if he wasn’t afraid the exertion would give him a hemorrhage, and lie replied: “What do you take me for?” “Aren’t you a Northern consumptive on your way South?” ‘ Not for Joseph! I'm a professional contortionist on my way to fill an en¬ gagement in Cincinnati. I saw that duffer sizing mo up, aud so playel to catch him. if he should want anything more send him around.”—-V. Y. Sun. A Cunning Portuguese Custom. A curious survival os customs was il¬ lustrated in Lisbon somo days after tho funeral of the late King Luis of Portu¬ gal. A funeral procession, composed of officers, military, and citizras, marched through the streets to places where platforms covered with black cloth had been erected, Four shields, on which were painted the royal arms, were borne aloft on long staves. On ar¬ riving at the platforms, the principal persons took'their places upon them; one of the shield-bearers, advancing to the front and chanting “Weep O Por* tuguese, for your king, Dom Luis I, is dashed his shield to the ground with such violence that it was shat- tered. This was repeated at each plat- form, while the bells were tolled dur¬ ing the wjiole ceremony. Tho proceed¬ ings were closed with a requiem service. CHILDREN'S COLUMN. A MEB8AOI5. She wasn’t on the play ground, she wasn't on the lawn, The Jlttleoue was missing and bed-time com¬ ing on. We hunted in the garden, we peepod about to see If sleeping under rose tree or lilac she might bo. But nothing came in answer to alt our anx¬ ious call Until at length we hastened within the <lar J >ing hall. broke And tli on tho stillness there a sill cry tone— The darling mite was standing before tin telephone, And softly, as we listened, came stealing down the stairs: o. Central! Give me Heaven. I want to say my prayers.” —Sydney Bay re, in Independent RANG THE DOOK-JiliU.. 1 once had a cat whoso intelligence was rcmarkablo. Wo lived in an old- fashioned liouso; the kitchen was sep¬ arated from tho collar by a partition with a glass window in it, and there was also a small window in tho cellar (hat looked into tho street. It was broken and this cat could pass out of it. Sho was never allowed to go upstairs, but sometimes we would tako her up on tho sly. The servant was much an - noyed by tho doorbell’s ringing, and ou going to answer find no ono there, thinking it was tho boys in tho street. Tho cat had a family and all were dis¬ posed of but one. She seamed very much grieved at tho loss. One day I happened into tho kitchen and saw the cat on tho top of the coal with her paw up in the air, playing with something. III10 hell rang and the servant went as usual, and I noticed tho cat tako her only kitten and jump through tho broken window. The servant came back. No ono, as usual, but the cat came in with her kitten and the girl. I noticed when I wont to tho door that tho cat always came in. Tho mystery was solved. The paw I saw in the air was pulling tho bell-wire, and the eat had noticed when the bell rang tho servant always openod the door, and when lockod out from tho liouso went to tho collar and rang the bell, and then to tho front door to be let in. —IY. Y. Journal. THE SURGEON JUKI). Two birds were building a uest un¬ der a study wiulow. A goutlemau sat in that study every dny. IIo watched tho birds. They were building the nest of clay. They brought bits of wot clay in their bills. They stuck thoso bits upon the wall. After they had worked busily for awhile, they would perch on a troo near by. There they would sit and look at the nest. Ssmetimos thoy would 11/ away an l tear down all that thoy had built. Ssmetimos apart of the nest would fall down, Then the birds would sit aud think how to build it letter. Right iu the middle of their work an acciJent happened. One of tho birds stepped re’ a pioco of glass. It cut her foot very badly. But Mrs. Bird was a brave littlo body. She wished to keep ou witli her work. She did keop on until she v/as faint and sick, and could not fly up from tho ground, Thon sho lay down. She closed her eyes, Sho looked very sick. The other bird looked at her anx¬ iously. Thou lie turned around and gave tlireo loud strange cries. Soon, several birds came flying about to seo what was tho matter. A little surgeon bird came witli them. lie looked liko the others, but lie soon showed that he was a surgeon, He brought a bit of wet clay in his bill. He ground it fiuo with his own little beak. Then lie spend it on the bird’s sore, stiff foot, just as a surgeon spreads a plaster. Next, he took in his bill a long green cornstalk which lay near.' Ho flow up on a tin water-pipe under the window. One end of tho cornstalk was near ttio lame bird. Sho understood what to do. She took hold of it with her bill, and helped herself up ou the waler- pipe too. Then the surgeon bird helped her into the half built nest. Poor Mrs. Bird! It was very hard to be sick and to move into tho half built liouso. What do you suppose tho littlo sur¬ geon bird did next? lie went to work and helped Mr. Bird finish tho nest, then he flew off home. Could tho gentleman in tho study havo been kinder or wiser than that little bird ?—I iter state Primary Reader. Making Him Understand. She—Will you please close the door, Mr. Stayer? He—Why, it is closed. She—Y'es, but I meant from the other side .—Somero lie Jmrnal. One Tiling Puzzled Him. He—The fools are not all dead yet. She—That's as true as you live. And he couldn’t understand why she emphasized tho “you.” NO. 22. At Milking Time. 1 At milking time, when shadows climb The pasture bars, and sheep bells chime High up along the sunset hill— ’TTs sweet to wander where he will Ami take no thought of care or time. The heart of boyhood in its prime Lights up with joy tho cheek of grime, When katydids como 014 and trill, 1 At milking time. $ There's not in any land or clime An hour so sacred, so sublime, As that when pjticnf kinc distil The wines of life in many a rill Of rippling and rcsilent rhyme, At milking time. —James -V. Matthews. HUMOROUS. Caught on tho fly—The spider’s wob. A business done on tick—Telegraph* ing. Where everything is a miss—In a girl’s boarding school. Sword-swuliowors ought to try saws for a while. Thoy would bo more toothsome. “How long was Bearson's speech?” “I don’t know. I didn’t have my gas rnetor with me.” Ferocious—A term applied by man to thoso animals that objoct to serving him in the capacity of food. Lady (calling, on friend)—Oil, isn't it splendid? I have malo six calls, aud you are tho only one I’ve found at home. “Do you think I look pretty m this habit, Jack?” “Pretty? You’re as pretty as a picture—and I’d like to take the picture.” “That cigar you smoko has its ad¬ vantages.” “Liko it?” “No; that’* just it. A friend doesn’t fcol hurt if you don't offer him ono.” A farmer was holding a plough Hitched up to a crumple-horned cough. The beast felt o’erweighted And rccalcitreighted And the farmer's an invalid nough. Cross-Examining Counsel—Isn't your husbanl a burglar? Witness—Y-e-s. Cross-Examining Counsol—And didn't you know ho was a burglar when you marriod him? Witness—Yes; but I was getting a littlo old and I had to choose between a burglar and a lawyer, so wlmt elso could I do? J’m tho European cloud of war: I’m never out of sight; I don't know what they keep mo for— They never have a fight. But I’m forever on the list; At every passing hap They tell me I’d be sadly misse If I were not on tap. Facts About Watermelons. The watermelon appears to bo divided into two distinct classes—one adaptod to very hot Iocalitaos and tho othor not ablo to hear well more than a limited dogreo of heat. As a rule, large melons bear largo seods and vice versa, but there are exceptions. The most delicious melon*, generally speaking, are thoso with thin rind* aud pink or deep rod flesh. Such melons, however, do not bear transportation very welL Large, tough-rinded melons of good quality, which havo the additional merit of carrying well and being good keepers, are now produced in large quantities in tho southern states. We uow produco a greator variety of largo watermelons than over boforc, some at¬ taining to 100 pounds and over in favorablo seasons and localities. Formerly our melons wore mostly long and oval in form and dark green or striped, and boro largo black or brown seods. Seeds from Spanish melons produced our first thin-rinded melons. The French gardeners, when they want to keep melons a long tiino, cut them with long stem*. These stems are coiled up and covered with brown sugar to prevent them from dry- ing up by exposure to the air. Melons from Spain nnd Italy thrivo here, but there arc not many varieties worthy of cultivation.— N. Y. World. Wedding Rings. Tho latest thing in wodding rings comes from England, and is a narrow but thick circlet of 22-carat fine gold. This has como in fashion in America in the course of the last year, replacing the old stylo ring, which is both heavy and wide, boing sometimes half an inch broad. Thoso latter have been in use »s far back as I can remember. The Germans always buy two plain gold rings, tho lady giving ono to her be¬ trothed and ha one to her. The “al¬ liance” ring is sometime called for, and often manufactured to order. It is made of two circlots fitting into each other and coming apart something like a puzzle, and is a revival of a very old style. The ordinary wedding ring costs from $7. 50 to $15, although the English ring is somewhat more expen¬ sive. In engagement rings individual taste is the only law, but set stones are great favorites. A novelty is a ring of three circlets, almost as narrow as wire, each set with a band of different stones, such as pearls, turquoises and conch-shells. — St. Louis Obb‘ D moerat.