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About The Enterprise. (Carnesville, GA.) 1890-1??? | View Entire Issue (Sept. 26, 1890)
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
