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I.
‘•Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.”
In the quiet nursery chambers,
Snowy pillows yet impressed,
See the forms of little children
Kneeling, white-robbed for their rest.
All in auiet nursery chambers,
While the dusky ekadows creep,
Hear tho voices of the children—
“Now I lay me down to sleep.”
In the meadow and the mountain
Calmly shine the winter stars,
But across the glistening lowlands
Slant the moonlight’s silver bars
In tho silence and the darkness,
Darkness growing still more dee.
Listen to the little children
Praying God their souls to keep.
“Jf we die”—so pray the children—
Ami the mother’s head drops low
(One from out her fold is sleeping
I Deep beneath the winter’s snow),
“Take our soulsand past tbc casement
; Flits a gleam of crystal light,
Like the trailing of His garments
^ Walking evermore in white.
Little souls that stand expectant,
Listening at the gates of life,
Hearing far away the murmur
1 Of the tumult and the strife;
Wc, who fight beneath those banners,
Meeting ranks of foemcn there,
Find a deeper, broader meaning
In your simple vesper prayer.
When your hand shall grasp the standard
Which, today, you watch from far;
When your deeds shall shape the conflict
In til's universal war,
Pray to Him, the God of battles,
Whose strong eye can never sleep,
In the warring of temptation,
Firm and true your souls to keep.
When the combat ends, and slowly
Clears the smoke from out the skiei
When, far down the purple distance,
All the noise of battle dies:
When the last night’s solemn shadows
Settle down on you and me,
May the love tuat never failcih
Take our souls eternally.
r MY MANICURE,
"The Northumberland,” New York,
Oct'. 1, 188- Dear Mr. R. C-:
Will you kindly send one of your as¬
sistants to my rooms Saturday, at 12
M., and oblige,
Yours truly, E-S--
Such were the contents of a letter,
sent by me one memorable Saturday,
to a well known manicure establish¬
ment. I was in the habit of having
my nails treated at home every Satur¬
day. Having a large flat, it was not
only convenient, but eminently proper.
Besides, the manicures were only too
pleased to come ,knowing that there
was a -double fee lo be gotten.
I had had thin manicures and fat
manicures, manicures tender and man¬
icures tough—blonde, brunette, stupid
and fascinating manicures—but had
always found them to be essentially
vulgar,Avitii an eye to the main chance,
fond of flattery, able to give and take
ill a game of chaff, in short, young
thoroughly able to take care of
themselves, and, unfortunately, show-
ing it in every line of the face and in
every curve of the figure.
So when at breakfast my man an¬
nounced Miss J-, the manicure, 1
arose Avith my paper, crossed over into
the library, dropped into an easy-chair
in the lordly fashion so common to
New York club men, avith an absent-
minded "Good morning!”
A tall figure in gray arose, greeting
me in a low tone, and immediately
proceeded to -wheel a low chair up to
mine. 1 held out my hand mechanic¬
ally—a soft hand took it. I can feel
that touch now! I avas startled!
Ridiculous! I, an old society and
club man, avho bad made love to every
woman who had ever crossed my path.
], whose love-making had always been
of the eyes and lips, never of the heart,
I feel a thrill? Most certainly aston¬
ishing!
My hand must have trembled, for
she looked up a moment, with a quick,
but penetrating glance.
For an instant only—down went the
head again over her AVork.
After awhile 1 regained sufficient
composure to scrutinize her more close¬
ly. All I could see was a white and
rosy cheek, and a mass of sho; t curl¬
ing auburn hair—not the dyed auburn
which I so heartily detest, but the nat¬
ural auburn of a person of sandy com¬
plexion.
“My very color,” thr.ight I. I be¬
gan to long for a fuller view of her
face. She should look up.
"Do you do much of such work,
Miss J- ?”
"Only on Saturdays,” was the dig¬
nified response. No change. Rather
exasperated, 1 assumed my most ele¬
gant manner:
"Can not I have the honor of your
company some evening to dinner?”
knowing the average manicure’s weak¬
ness.
"That Ajrill fetch her!” to myself.
It did, but not in the way exuccied.
"Thanks; I never go out at night!”
"But may I not call ou you then?”
persisted I.
"I beg your pardon. I don't re¬
ceive, socially, gentlemen whom I meet
in business.”
"I beg yours!” I managed to gasp
put.
THE ENTERPRISE
"Whew1 What a cold plunge that
was,” mentally. Completely routed, I
resigned myself to an awkward silence.
Something I had accomplished, though,
and that avus a glimpse of a large but
handsome mouth, tilled with lovely
white teeth, and a pair of him eyes
that 1 shall not forget to my dying
day.
And Avliat a superb hand I Largo
and white, with nails beautifully trim¬
med and polished. "Badgo of her
profets’on,” Avas my cynical comment.
And liow deftly they v/lelded the
spiderlike scissors, on which tvere en¬
graved tho initials “M. J. I”
But she Avas finishing now. I be¬
gan to feel nervous about paying
money to such a superb creature.
She arose, packed up her instru¬
ments and put on her hat, which she
had laid aside.
I handed her double the usual
charge, my habit always. She took
it calmly, thanked me and passed out,
with a bOAV and smile, I holding the
door open for her, and speechless as a
sixteen-year-old boy.
1 was consoled by the thought,
hoAvever, that I should see her again
the following Saturday. Judge of my
disgust, to find another sent in her
place, who kneAV nothing of Miss
J--at all.
The folIoAving day I called on Mrs.
C-. Madame did not even know
Miss J-’s address—slie Avas not one
of her reguiar operators, but had been
sent to her, her own siaff being pre¬
viously engaged. So sorry, etc., etc.
Months rolled on. I bad contracted
the bad habit of promenading the
streets, in the hope that Fortune would
be kind to me—that 1 might meet her
accidentally.
I never did.
"Delighted to- - m, Mr. S-.
To Avhom shall I pfC'ent you? Oh! I
know. My niece. Awfully clever
girl. Supported her mother and her¬
self for a long time after her father's
death. An uncle left them a legacy a
month or tAvo ago, sufficient to enable
them to resume their rightful place in
society. Where can she be? Don’t
see her anywhere. Never mind. I
will later.” Thankful for my escape
from this paragon,. I left my hostess
to receive her guests, and threaded my
Avay through the crOAvd Of gay mask-
cr--, at last gaining the shelter of a
friendly door-way leading into a con¬
servatory, against Avhich 1 leaned Avith
a sigh of relief. I had coma to this
“bai masque” of Mrs. W--'s princi¬
pally to escape frommy own company.
My spirits AVere not in keeping Avith
this gay assemblage, and I soon found
my thoughts wandering when-
“How do you do?” a soft voice at
my elbow- said. "You do not seem to
recognize old friends.”
I started. Where iiad I heard that
A'oice? There was the self-same tremor
again! Was I iu my dotage? Could
not a lady speak to me Avithout my
losing my balance? Truly, it seemed
not.
“You have rather the adyantage ol
me, Avith that mask on,” said I, con¬
fusedly, almost falling over a plant
standing near. I clutched the door¬
frame to steady myself, breaking a
linger nail iu the effort.
Recovering somewhat, took the
outstretched ungloved haw—striving
all the while to penetrate the disguise.
There was something familiar about
the large Avhite band, with the avcII
polished uails, about the curly auburn
hair, but—that was all.
The tall figure Avas so draped tL_«
it was an utter impossibility to tell
anything regarding it. The eyes
Avero liand'ome, b&t the mask prevent¬
ed their color from being detected.
“You haA-e broken a nail,” examin¬
ing it critically. “Allow me to trim it
for you,” all the while retaining my
hand.
“Certainly,” I helplessly stam¬
mered.
Then came forth a pair of scissors.
Snip! snip! the rugged edges Avero
trimmed.
Arc those initials engraved on them?
Yes, Wliat are they? Ye gods! “M.
J.”! I!
“My manicure!”
“And Mrs. W-’s niece!”
I married my manicure. We have
two little manicures, whose nails are
personally treated by their mother.—
[Chatter.
Blowing the Horn for Lost Children.
Distracted parents Avho lose tlieir
children in the croAvds at public l-esorts
on holidays would be glad if a curious
Berlin custom were adopted. At the
Berlin Zoological Gardens any keeper
finding a lost child takes the little one
iu charge and blows a trumpet. Hear¬
ing the note the mother or father in
search of tixe missing youngster at
once makes for the spot and the search
is ended.—[Chicago Herald.
CARNESVILLE, GA., FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 2C>. 1890.
VICTIMS OF VODKA.
Most of the Russian Peasants
are Slaves to Drink.
.Vhat an American Correspond¬
ent Saw in Russia.
luLubtcdly the lower strata of tho
Lt'.ssian population are the drunkenost
people under the sun, Looking back
over our road, as the thought occurs
to me, sava Thomas Stevens in a letter
from Russia to the New York World,
1 remember no village, save Yolosovo,
in Avhich drunken people wore not
very much In evidence. At every
Avaysido traklir where avc stayed over
night the fore part of the night would
be more or less of a pandemonium,
from the shouting and singing of roys-
tering moujiks (peasants) filled Avith
vodka (an alcoholic beverage made out
of rye. I have seen gangs of grav-
haired old men, see-sawing, flinging
their arms about ami making fools of
themselves generally in the sight of
the whole village, yet not attracting to
themselves so much as the curious or
reproachful gaze of a single woman.
On Sunday all the men seemed to
be drinking and carousing and all the
women we.e sitting in little circles in
front of the houses gossiping. The
one sex seemed to be absolutely ob¬
livious of the proceedings or even the
presence of the other. Tho drunken*
ness was sad enough, but the indiffer¬
ence of the Avomcn to it Avas the sad¬
dest of ail.
Sometimes, but not often, Avcre
drunken Avomen. Near one village Ave
met a croAvd of drunken men and
women, as merry and picturesque a
set of subjects as Bacchus himself
could wish.
Hand in band they reeled along and
sang; now and then they stopped to
dance and to express their joy in Avild
laughter. They halted and sung for
us a melodious bacchanalian song,well
worth listening to, as Ave rode past.
The men were in red shirts, black vel-
vet trousers and top boots. The
women were in all the colors of the
rainbow, Avith red well in tho ascend¬
ancy. Arriving at the little old di¬
lapidated inn by the Avayside the
merry-makers, one and alt, removed
their caps and crossed themselves de-
voutly, then proceeding on their Avay
struck up another bacchanalian re¬
frain.
Soon we reached the groggery. It
was a cheap lo j house, roofed with
tin, and with a little porch at the door.
On the porch stood an old moujik
Avith a gallon demijohn of A-odka, from
which he Avas filling glasses holding
about a third of a pint. He seemed
to be treating the crowd. One of
these portions costs 15 copecks, or
about eight cents. The best vodka is
made from rye, the worst from pota¬
toes. A moujik can get liOAvling
drunk for 15 cents.
On Sundays and holy days the vodka
shop is the rallying point of the male
population. Ilis rags may be insuffi¬
cient to cover his nakedness, his bouse
may be tumbling about his bead, bis
family may be upon the verge of slar-
A’alion, but the improvident moujik
hands out his last kopeck for the
vodka, then runs in debt. He pledges
his growing crops, his horse, his only
coav, engages his labor in advance at a
fearful discount. He becomes insol-
vent and is unable to pay his share of
the mir’s taxes.
Thus far, my informant said, the
government had been inclined to deal
len'ently with him. If unable to pay
his direct taxes, it Avas because he bad
drank vodka, and had thereby paid
them several times over. So reasoned
a paternal government that had deliv¬
ered him from serfdom, a weakling
to bo nursed and borne with patiently.
So had it borne with him for twenty-
nine years, wavering between the duty
of teaching him the lesson of a little
self-reliance by hard experience and a
reluctance to resort to extremes. Be¬
ginning wi’h the present year, how¬
ever, the moujik who fails to pay his
taxes is to be flogged. From twenty
to thirty stripes may be administered,
and a fine of five kopecks goes Avith
every stroke.
Keep Off of White Sidewalks.
If a man Avants to avoid being pros¬
trated by the heat, lie needs to be care¬
ful how he walks over a Avhite side-
Avalk Avith the sun on it. In very hot
Aveather people Avear white or very
light clothing because it repels the
heal, while dark clothes absorb it. It
is just so with these white pavements.
They never get so hot as dax-k ones,
and are easier on the feet in conse¬
quence, but they reflect the heat on the
pei'son Avho walks over them. It is
better to walk in the street than on one
of these Avhite beat reflectors Avlien the
sun is shining on it. —[St. Louis Globe-
Dcmccrot.
Fogs in Newfoundland.
There is one subject upon which I
find St. Johns people to be touchy—
fogs. As overvbodv knows, the Arc-
'
tic current . sweeps through , the ,, Allan- ,,,
tic from the Pole directly past the cast
e mst of Newfoundland, and that its
chilly Avaters, meeting thoso of tho
Avann Gulf Stream, cause tho frequent
fogs which prevail for many miles at
6on oil' Newfoundland. Some parts of
the coast are nevor free from these sea
clouds, and many a poor fisherman in
his dory 1ms been separated from his
companions and lost in the heavy fogs
which hang over that great submerged
island known as the Grand Banks, the
home of the cod and tho great fishing
grounds of the world.
Whether or not it’s because the fog¬
gier the weather, the belter the fishing
—and everybody in St. Johns is in¬
terested in the fisheries—I don’t pre¬
tend to kuoAV, but it i3 certain that
the good citizens of St. Johns Avill
never admit that it is foggy in the
city. A fellow passenger on the
steamer, Mr. Bowers—a truth-loving
Newfoundlander—assured mo that I
would observe as a striking meteoro¬
logical phenomenon when 1 reached
St. Johns that a dense fog frequently
hung over the ocean and around the
cliffs at the entrance to the harbor, but
never—uo, never—did the fog reach
the city. “It is most remarkable, sir,”
he said.
And so it would haA r c been, But,
alas! Avlien I stumbled against my
friend Bowers on Water street in a
fog so Hick you could cut it lie assured
me that it Avas not a genuine sea f'g,
bat only a slight mist. —[New York
Herald.
The Rose Bath.
The rose bath is a luxury far off, de¬
sirable but unattainable, so says the
practical mind, but not so. The lux¬
ury of tho ancients can be obtained by
the nineteenth century maiden at a
cost second to nothing. The bath of
roses can be made as follotvs: The
warm water, in quantity amounting to
(he usual requirement of tho bath, is
first softened by stirring into the tub
finely sifted oatmeal, into which also
is added half a pint of glycerine; lastly
put into it tAVo drops of attar of roses.
If the massage treatment be available,
use it by all means; if not, let a coarse
toAvel and hard rubbing serve the pur¬
pose of the massage system. This
bath is simply fine, as it softens tho
skin and blends perfume into each
line of the body. After- all, to ob¬
tain it is a simple thing, too, the tAvo
drops of the attar of roses being the
greatest expense of all.—[St. Louis
Post-Dispatch.
Fought, n Duel With Howitzers.
A strange duel was fought in a
sparsely settled part of Sonora, Mexi¬
co, about fifteen years ago. Captain
Villenneva and a lieutenant of a bat¬
tery of light artillery belonging to one
of the posts had some trouble about
who Avas the best shot Avith the moun¬
tain howitzer.
They quarreled and agreed to settle
it with the howitzer at 500 yards.
They took neither seconds nor assist¬
ant gunners, but from tire top of
small hillocks they fired explosive
shells at one another.
Tho captain was wounded by a frag¬
ment of a shell, but they fired ten
shots before either was disabled,
though each was covered with dust.
Final)) the captain landed a shell
under his adversary’s gun and tho ex¬
plosion so mangled the lieutenant that
ho died before they could remove him
to the post.—[Galveston (Texas)
Ncavs.
New Zealand Superstitious.
Tho New Zealanders imagine that
the souls of the dead go to a place be¬
neath the earth called Reinga. Tho
path to this region of the soul is a
precipice close to the seashore at tho
North Capo. It is said that the na¬
tives Avho live in the neighborhood
can, at night, hear the sounds caused
by the passing of spirits through the
air. It is a common superstition with
them that the left eye of every chief
becomes a star as soon a3 the chief
dies.
Shungle, a celebrated New Zealand
king, once ate the eye of a valiant
chief, thinking thereby to increase the
brilliancy of his own “eye-star.”
Sometimes apparently, it Avas thought
that there was a separate immortality
for each of the eyes of tho dead, the
left ascending to heaven as a star, the
right in the form of a gpirit, descend¬
ing to Reinga.—[St. Louis Republic.
Adamant.
‘‘That’s right, Mr. Bronson,” said
the landly, as the boarder broke his
goblet, “break what you can’t eat.”
"I’d be pleased to, Mrs. Laybird,’
retorted Bronson, "blit Avith these
biscuits of yours that Avould be im-
nossible,”—fEnocU
CHILDREN’S COLUMN.
borothv untrue's sewing person.
Dorothy Wmpto must learn to setv,
For Dorothy Dlmplo is six-, you know j
^ n lmly of sU> wlthUollloa tUrce ,
A ,i rst . rn to workwoman ought to he;
or else those children so young and dear
Will lv.i\e to wear rags, ’Its very clear.
Dorothy Dimple, so gay nml sweet.
Possesses a work-box all complete;
A silver thimble that fits in a shoe,
Needles, amt cotton, and scissors too;
A hag full of buttons of every size.
And a nice little packet of hooks and eyes,
Dorothy Dlmp'c begins to sew,
Hobbledy-cobbleily, to and fro.
It. looked so easy, she can’t think why
The stitches persist ingoing awry,
Nor why her lingers have suddenly grown
As awkward us bits of stick or stone,
Dorothy Dimple is sure that she
And that tiresome needle will never agree;
Poor little worker, she's losing heart
At sight of those stitches so far apart,
Tho cotton lias got in another knot!
She is tired of sewing, and oh, so hot I
Dorothy Dimple, dear little maid.
Hasn’t much patience, I am afraid;
She takes off her thimble, puts it away,
Thinks she has done quite enough for today i
Says that her dollies in rags must go,
Because their mother can't learn to sew-.
Dorothy Dimple if you but try,
AVork will come easier by und by;
Remember, dear, that n mother of throe
A first-rate work-woman ought to be.
Then try with a will, and soon I know
Dorothy Dimple will learn to sew.
— [Daughters of America.
THE FOX AT HOME.
The fox burrows into the earth like
the rabbit. Tho fox’s burrow is called
by sportsmen its "earth,” and at the
end of it is the nursery for the baby
foxes, snub-nosed, playful little crea¬
tures, Avith tails not at all resembling
the beautiful brushes of their father
and mother. In some of our larger
woods, on a still, moonlight night,
were you to visit tho "earth,” you
might sec the little foxes gamboling,
rolling over, and playing Avith one
another liko so many kittens, whilst
their father and mother would be out
watching near the rabbit warren, or
stealing a fowl from Farmer Giles’
hen roost to make them a meal.—
[Detroit Free Press.
A NEW REMEDY.
If there Avas anything Jenny hated
to do it Avas toAvasli dishes, but all the
same she had it to do three times a
day.
She Avent to stay awhile with grand¬
ma, and flattered herself sho wouldget
rid of disliAvashing there.
But grandma thought that dish¬
washing Avas tho very Avork for little
girls.
"I can’t wash the dishes this morn¬
ing, grandma,’’ said Jenny one day as
they cleared oft' the table, "for my fin¬
ger is s ire, and tho dishwater makes it
smart.”
"No matter if it does smart a lit¬
tle,” grandma said; "it Avill do it
good. Dishwater is very healing.”
Half an hour after grandma came
out, expecting to see the dishes all
done, but, instead, Jenny had dipped
out a little of the water into a tin cup,
and there she sat soaking her lingers
in it!
It was a long time before she heard
the last of her “disliAvater cure.”—
[Youth’s Companion.
AV A DRAGON-FLY FORACES.
Mr. E. Giles of Bombay, India, re-
ports that ho was standing one hot
morning in the porch of his house,
Avlien his attention Avas attracted by a
large dragon-fly of a metallic-blue
color, about tAvo a half inches long and
Avith an extremely neat figure, which
was cruising backward and fox-ward in
the porch in an earnest manner that
seemed to sIioav ho had some special
object in view. Suddenly be alighted
at tho entrance of a small hole in tho
gravel, and began to dig vigorously,
sending the dust iu small shoAvers be¬
hind him.
“I Avatched him,” nays Mr. Giles,
"with great attention, and, after the
lapse of about half a minute, when the
dragon-fly, was head and shoulders
down the hole, a largo and very f it
cricket emerged like a bolted rabbit,
and sprang several feet into the air.
Then ensued a brisk contest of bounds
and darts, the cricket spi-inging from
side to side and up and down, and tho
the dragon-fly darting at him the mo¬
ment he alighted. It Avas long odds
on the dragon-fly, for the cricket was
too fat to last, and his springs became
slOAver and lo\A r er, till at last his enemy
succeeded in pinning him by the neck.
The dragon-fly appeared to bite the
cricket, Avhich, after a struggle or
two, turned over on his back and lay
motionless, either dead, or temporarily
senseless. The dragon-fly then, Avith¬
out any hesitation, seized him by the
hind legs, dragged him rapidly to the
hole out of Avhich he had dug him,
entered himself, and pulled the cricket
iu after him, and then, emerging,
scratched some sand over the hole and
flew away. Time for the whole trans¬
action, say, three minutes.”
The Track Walker.
‘Tho railroad track walker occupies
an important position of trust.” suit! a
’omlactor to a star reporter tho other
ilny, when tho train Imd been stopped
by a signal. "On bis care depends
the safety of every train und of every
life which passes over hi* section of
tho road. The broken plate for which
he signalled us was a very little thing
In itself, but bad it been neglected our
train might have been thrown from
tho track and several people killed.
"I have been a track walker my*
and would have been one yet but for
the fact that I lmd a friend in the
superintendent's office who aided mo
in getting' my present position. Tho
railroad man's motto is ‘once a track
walker, always a track walker.’ He
goes on duly in the morning, rai i or
shine, at live o'clock, or at tho same
hour in the evening, if be is on the
nigh’ shift, and remains for twelve
hours, lie has a certain section of the
track to cover, and he is required to
go over it at the rate of about two
miles an hour. lie must look carefully
at every foot of the rails, fish plates
and angle plates and loose bolts.
“An experienced man can tell a loose
rail at a glance, and a few blows of
bis hammer soon sets matters right.
11 is outfit consists of a wrench, a ham¬
mer, a few bolts and spikes, a lantern
if working at night, a flag, and torpe¬
does. In case of his discovering a
serious damage to the rails which ho
cannot repair without stopping a train
which lie knows is due, lie places two
torpedoes about live yards apart, and
some two hundred feet from where be
will be at work on the rails. This
allows him to work at ease, and their
explosion warns the engineer of what
is ahead.”
Mrs. Hayes’s Goat.
Tho telling of a joke upon oncso
requires more sc'f-denial than the ma¬
jority of persons care to exercise. It
has the advantage, hoAvever, of hurting
nobody's feelings, and of affording a
field for legitimate exaggeration. The
late Mrs. Lucy "Webb Hayes avus
especially fond of recounting her own
defeats and mishaps, as this anecdote,
which she told one evening at a dinner
at the White House, will sIioav:
It >vas at our home in Fremont, one
evening in November, when without
any naming the thermometer began
falling and snowflakes filled the air.
I tvas alone in the house lVith my
youngest children and their colored
nurse, Wiuiiie. Tho men servants had
gone to their homes before dark.
Suddenly I thought of poor Chris¬
topher Columbus, our long-hair id pug¬
nacious Angora goa‘, out In the pas¬
ture. It seemed cruel to leave him
tlioro without, any shelter, so presently
1 Avcnt and asked Winnie lo get a lan¬
tern and come Avith me.
At the barn avc found a great box,
into which avc put some straw, and
together we rolled and pushed and
carried that box across the road and
into the pasture.
Christopher saw tho light, and came
toward it. We retreated behind the
fence, and tried to coax him into the
place of shelter. Imagine our senti¬
ments when be mounted to the top of
the box, and there took up bis abode
for the night!
His Well Runs Gold and Silver.
There is a wonderful well doAVii
near Del Norte. It is an artesian Avell
with an abundant (low of Avatcr, suf¬
ficient to irrigate a considerable
amount of land. That Avould be
enough for any one but a San Luis
man. But this is mineral Avater. It
is effervescent, very palatable and ex¬
tremely healthful. Nor is this all:
Hie force of the Avatcr brings up from
the depths an occasional lump of na¬
tive silver or a gold nugget. The
frugal farmer has placed a sack of
wire netting over the mouth of the
Avell to catch the metal and prevent it
from choking the cows. Local scien¬
tists claim that at a great depth and
under cnoumas pressure tho Avater
is washing away a ledgo of rock avIiosc
softer parts go into solution and give
the water its mineral qualities, but
Avhose gold and silver, not being dis¬
solved, arc brought to the surface in a
metallic state.— [Pike’s Peak Herald.
To Remove a Cinder From the Eye.
The traveling public may be inter¬
ested in knowing that the proper way
to remove a cinder from the eye is to
rub the other eye. Rubbing the af¬
fected eye only inflames it and very
rarely removes the offending cinder-
This statement is vouched for by med -
ical authority, and one ti'ial will con¬
vince the most sceptical. — [New York
World.
A Cori-ect Statist iclau.
"A French statistician claims that
the human race gets shorter every
yeav.” $10,000
“He’s dead right. I had a
year ago. Now I’ve only got $5000.”
NO. 38.
The Happy Man.
By day, no biting cares assail
My peaceful, calm, contented breast |
By night, my slumbers never fall
Of welcome rest.
Boon as the San, with orient beams,
Gilds the fair chambers of the Day, ,
Musing, I truce the murmuring streams
That wind their way.
Around me Nature fills the scene
With boundless plenty and delight;
And, touched with joy sincere, serene,
I bless the eight.
I bless the kind, creating Power,
Kxcrted thus for frail mankind;
At whose command descends the shower,
And blows the wind.
Happy tho man who thus at ease,
Content with that which Nature gives;
Him guilty terrors never seize;
He truly lives. —[Chambers’ Journal.
HUMOROUS.
The bridal path—Up the aisle.
Blow their own horns—Musicians.
Made for each other—the enp and
saucer.
Something that always takes sides—
Laughter.
It is the early edition that catches
the bookAvorm.
Among the products of tbc Samoan
Islauds arc sugar cane and hurricanes.
There are dull times on the farm
when tho boy has to turn tho grind¬
stone.
Energy may bring success; but
there's nothing liko success to bring
one energy.
Jack—Pshaw! money doesn’t always
bring happiness. Ethel—Well, I’m
sure poverty doesn’t.
"What a splendid Avife Downey
lias! She’s got such a sunny disposi¬
tion, you know.” "Sunny disposi¬
tion? Yes, they do say she makes it
hot for him.”
"I hardly know how to tuke you at
limes, Miss Ophelia,” remarked young
Mr. Luinmix. "Why not take me for
better or for worse?” suggested Miss
Ophelia, shyly.
Mr. Blase—“You have no fortitude,
Mario; yon can endure nothing unless
it is agreeable.” Mrs. Blase—"Y^ou
judge me harshly, Adolphe; are you
not my husband?”
Sweet Girl—If it’s just the same,
Mr. Mashuer, you needn’t trouble
yourself to call any more. Masheur
(earnestly)—Oh, thanks; it’s no
trouble at all—1 liko to call.
Fair Tourist—Ah. what au ideal life
is that of the peasantry. In close
communion with nature; no sordid
cares, no dues to pay to tho exactions
of society. Practical Mamma—Nor
to the laundry.
He—And so yottr answer is final?
You will not be mine? She—Yes, ab¬
solutely. But pray don’t go and blow
your brains out. He—It would be au
idle attempt. People say if 1 had any
brains I never would have proposed to
you.
The Difference.
There is one point in which city and
country people greatly differ. A city
man never speaks to a passer-by uu-
less lie bo an acquaintance, while in
the rural districts one meets so few
people on the roads that it is tbc cus¬
tom to accost every passenger. Most
country people leave the rural habit
home when they visit the city, but
this morning a citizen Avas accosted by
a sun-burned granger, who smiled
warmly and extended his hand iu a
friendly manner. As the citizen once
lived in tho country, be understood
tho old farmer, and returned the
greeting. “B’goshl” said Rusticus,
"the folks of this here toAvn are the
friendliest I ever saAV. I never Avas
in town before, und they just treat mo
great. ”
The citizen seconded the remark and
went his way, while the farmer start-
ed down Vino Street, speaking to
everybody he met and hailing every
driver on the street. Several electric
cars stopped at his greetings, and lie
rushed out and gave tiie conductors a
Avarm hand-shake, replying to their
invitation to get on, "No, thanks, I’d
rutlier walk; I ain’t goin’fur.” Peo¬
ple began to "catch on,” and Avlien
last seen the venerable son of the soil
was wending his way along the streets,
and receiving a perfect ovation.— [Ex.
Concernin'? the Wfiud’s Variations.
A sex-ies of observations for a huti.
dred consecutive days has been made
at the top of the Eiffel Tower on the
velocity of the Avind. Speaking gen¬
erally, the A'clocity at that elevation
was three times in the average gx-eater
than nearer the ground. Much of the
diminution of force and speed is no.
doubt due to the check giveD by
houses and. other objects near the sur¬
face of the earth. The observations
present many curious details as to the
variations at various times of the day
and night, due to changes of tempera-
tlirn