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VOL. I.
Her Refrain.
‘Do yon love mot"’ she said when the skies
were blue,
And we walked where the stream through
the branches glistened;
Vnd I told and retold her my love was true,
While she listened and smiled and smiled
and listened.
‘Do yon love "me?’’ she whispered when
days were drear,
And her eyes searched mine with patient
yearning,
ind kijjsed. her reviewing the words so dear,
While she listened and smiled as if slowly
learning.
‘Do you love me?” she asked, when we sat
at rest k '
By the stream ensbadowed with autumn
glory;
Her cheek had been laid as iu peace on my
breast,
But she raised it to ask for the sweet old
story,
And I said I will tell her the tail again—
I will swear by the earth and the stars
above me;
And I told her that uttermost time should
prove
The fervor ami faith of my perfect love;
And I yowed it and pledged it that nauirht
should move;
While she listened and smiled in my face
and then
She whispered once more, “Do you truly
lore me?” O'Reilly.
—[John Boyle
The Malmaison Emerald.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.
“Eh?” said Uncle Venable. “You
—want—to—get—married?”
“If yon don’t mind, sir,” said Ver¬
bena, drooping her pretty head, while
a blush like the lining of a pink sca-
shell crept over her face.
“But what nonsense that is!” said
Mr. Yenable, shutting his cabinet
drawers, leaning back in his chair and
looking at Verbena with eye3 like gim¬
lets. “Who is tho young man?”
“Please, uncle,it’s Fritz,” whispered
Verbena, half inclined to run away
and hide herself.
“Fritz!” roared Mr. Venable.
“That—farmer fellow?”
“He’s a farmer,” admitted Verbena,
“but he owns his own farm, sir. And
his mother is very anxious for me to
come there, because —’’
“Oh, I can imagine tlfat!” said Mr.
Venable, with a sneer. “You—a
Venable—talking about marrying a
farmer! Aon, the heiress of the Mal¬
maison emerald! You, that might
take any place in society that you wish,
when once the value of the gem is
known, talk of allying yourself to
a clodhopper like that, who don’t
know an opal from a moonstone!”
Verbena burst into tears.
“He isn’t a clodhopper,” said she.
“And I wish there wasn’t any such
thing as the Malmaison emerald 1”
Mr. Venable transfixed his niece
through his spectacle glasses with a
glare that might have paralyzed her.
“Silence, miss!” said lie. “Do you
know it is on the reputation of the
Malmaison emerald that the Venables
will go down to fame? The Empress
Josephine—•” -
“I don’t care for the Empress Jo-
sephine,” said Vcrbe ta, who, having
drawn the sword, was now minded to
cast the scabbard away. “And Fin
not particular about fame, and I don’t
suppose I shall he a Venable for-
ever—”
“This sort of talk won’t do, Verbe¬
na,” said the old gentleman, solemnly.
“Where would society be if every ono
refused to hear the responsibilities and
shoulder the cares of their station*?
You are not merely my niece, Verbe-
na. You are the representative—the
last surviving representative of the
Venables. To you ?n my wifi is left
the guardianship of the Malmaison
emerald.”
“I’m s'ck of hearing of it,” vehe¬
mently protested Verbena.
“And,” went on Mr. Venable, “I
desire you to give up all idea cf mar¬
rying this young - man. It’s entirely
out of the question—entirely.”
“But what is this about the Malmai¬
son emerald?” asked Fritz Elcombe, in
a bewildered way, when he found
(Verbena crying, by the sitting room
window, a few hours later.
Her blue eyes sparkled through their
veii of tears.
: “Yon don’t mean,” said she, “that
you l:avo never heard of the famous
Malmaison emerald?”
“That’s my meauing exactly,” ad¬
mitted Fritz. “Do consider, in my
behalf*, that I’ve only been here a
year, and have lots still to learn.”
“Well, -.listen”! said Verbena, half
crying, half angry, “It’s a famous
unset gem.”
“Oh, it is, is it?”
“And it used to belong to the Em-
press Josephine.”
^ “Did it, indeed?”
1 “Aud she woye it iu ttpse days at
Malmaison.”
“Hence the name, eh?”
“I suppose so. And Qneen Ilor-
tense gave it to some one wht> sold it
to somebody else, and it wh3 finally
THE ENTERPRISE
given to one of the Venables who waa
a surgeon in the English army, by a
dying oflieer out in Iliiidostau, to
whom be had been able to render kind
oliices; and so it has come down to us.
It really is a wonderful story.”
“I should suppose so,” politely
incredulous.
“They say,” went on Verbena “that
when ttncle kept it in tho little iron
safo let into tho guest-chamber wall,
whoever slept there used always
(o dream of a beautiful, sad-faced
lady, who walked up and down a
marble terrace, under the trees, and
wrung her hands". That was the Em¬
press Josephine, of course.”
“Of course,” still more incredu¬
lously.
“And my uncle declares (hat the
color in the stone is always dim and
turbid when the anniversary of the
poor lady’s death comes around,” fur¬
ther added Verbena.
, “Yes, that is exceedingly probable,”
dryly observed Mr. Elcombe.
“My uncle has been offered a great
deal of money for tho gem,” said Ver¬
bena, with a sigh, “and I wish to
goodness he’d sell it. But he won’t.
And, what is worse, he wants me to
marry a hateful, spectacled, little old
man in New York, who, next to him¬
self, is the best judge of jewels in
New York, and who owns a green
ruby which is a dead match to Uncle
Venable’s unset emerald. He calls it
an Archaeological Alliance.”
“Well, I should think it partook
somewhat of that nature,” said Fritz,
thoughtfully.
“He is going up to New York to¬
morrow to a lapidaries’ convention,”
said Verbena. “And 1 suppose he
will bring Mr. Twistleten hack with
him. Oh, Fritz!”
“Don’t be alarmed, heart’s dearest!”
said Fritz, consolingly, encircling her
waist with his arm. “The only way
iu which we can effectually guard
against this complication of ills is—”
“Yes, Fritz?”
“To get married while Mr. Yenable
is gone.
“Oh, Fritz, I wouldn’t dare openly
to defy him, like that! He has been
very good to me,” fluttered Verbena.
“I’ll be good to you,too, my darling.”
“Nonsense, Fritz! You’re spoiling
inyhair! Do stop, Fritz!” protested
the girl.
“Then promise me, Verbena.”
“No, I’ll promise nothing'!”
At the lapidaries’ convention there
was a stormy session that year. Herr
Heidelgrun was there, a snuffy, dried-
up old man, of great age and still
greater arrogance, who had apparently
come out of his spiders-web in Vienna
for the sole purpose of discomfiting all
the antiquaries of the western conti¬
nent.
“De Malmaison emeralt!” said Herr
Heidelgrun. “Dat ish a mishlakc.
Vat you call one big lie. It occupies
you all your time to chase dese lie, and
den nail him down. 1 haf the Mal¬
maison emeralt in mine collection.”
“How can that be?” said Mr. Ven¬
able, choking with rage, while Mr.
Twistleton stood by, ready to espouse
his friend's cause, “when here it is—
the very stone itself?”
He opened the velvet case which
contained the drop of green fire. It
blinked at the circle of eager faces
above it like a baleful eye.
Herr Hcideigrun laughed a shrill
cackle of derision.
“Dat de Malmaison emeralt!” said
lie. “Oh, how easy are some people
hoodwinked! A verrv goot imita¬
tion, I grant. Oh, yes, I can tell you
all about him! But de genuine Mal¬
maison emeralt it was sell me in 1850,
at Vienna, by one Captain Giles Ven¬
able-”
(“Verbena’s faVier,” thought Mr.
Venable, with a start and a sinking of
the heart.)
“For de gracious Empress Augusta,
who was den making do collection for
a necklace which should outshine all
the courts of Europe. I pay Captain
Venable three thousand florins for
him, and I engage my best workman
to make him an imitation Malmaison
emerald which shall deceive de very
jeweler himself. I fink I make my
fortune, but I am wrong. De captain
he pockets liis florins and he rides
away. De gracious Empress she
change her mind. She get tired of
emeralts, aud she t’ink she will haf
pearls. But I know dere will some
day be market for de Malmaison etner-
alt, I keep him. I haf him yet.
Here he is, and here is de letter from
Captain Giles Venable, which proves
his genuineness. Eh? Are you to be
satisfy now?”
And the green blaze of the real gem
nut P ut the tue artful dUIU1 imitation to shame at
ouce.
Mr. Venable earao homo without
waitiug for the adjournment of tfa eJ
lapidaries’ convention, He did aot
bring Mr. Twistleton with him.
CARNESVILLE, GA„ FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24.1890.
“A man who couldn't even tell a
bogus stone from a real one,” sput-
tered Venable, “and calls himself a
judgo of gotns! Verbena, come here!”
Verbena came accordingly, with the
teapot in one hand and a pan of hot
Graham muffins, fresh from the oven.
in the other.
“I’ve got something to toll you,'
said Mr. Vcnablo.
‘•Yes, uncle,” murmured Verbena,
her little heart giving an ominous
throb under the cluster of roses she
wore.
“The Malmaison emerald is a—hum-
bug!” said Air. Venable, distinctly.
“Oh, uncle!”
“And Caleb Twistleton -U a charl¬
atan and an adventurer!”
And he proceeded to impart to his
niece the whole revelation of lien
Heidelgrun.
“Y'our father, my dear,” said ho.
“lias wrecked the family fortunes and
broken my heart. Henceforward 1
give up the study of gems. I’ll do¬
nate my collection, such as it is, to the
Middleville museum. It may serve
as the nucleus for something greater
in time. And I’ll devote myself to
roses. They can’t imitate flowers.
And, Verbena—”
“Yes, uncle.”
“You may marry young Elcombe,
if you choose. After this, Twistleton
don’t deserve a wife.”
“Thank you, uncle,” said Verbena,
demurely.—[Saturday Night.
An Ex-Vice Presidential Fisherman.
Probably the most ardent, out and
out indefatigable fisherman in New
England is ex-Vice President Hanniha 1
Hamlin of Bangor, Me. The story
goes that away back, some fifty years
ago, he went up along the Piscataquis
river aud found a trout brook the like
of which was never before known ir
the State. Year after year he wen!
there and brought home whole wagon
loads of trout. When Bangor took
the railroad fever the Hon. Hannibal
at once insisted that the tracks should
be laid toward Moosehead Lake. This,
he said, would open up the big iron
and slate deposits of Mount Katahdin
and vicinity, hut those who were on
the inside declared that the old man
wanted easier access to his fishing
grounds.
The railroad was laid, and though
the iron and elate did not pay, the
great summer traffic to Mount Kinec
more than made up for the deficit,and
the venerable angler could reach his
brook in a few hours. Two or three
times a year he visits the place, ac¬
companied only by a model fishing rod,
a box of bait, a plug of tobacco and a
black clay pipe. The conductors on
the road know where he gets off, and
often see him return deeply freighted;
but the exact place where that prolific
brook is situated is still as much of a
mystery as Moses’ grave.—[New
Y'ork Press.
Toothless Animals.
Those animals which subsist wholly
on liquids or on minute particles oi
matter, need, of course, no teeth t<
tear, chew or crush their food with
Such aro tho butterflies and som<
humming-birds, bibalve molhisks and
the adult whalebone whale; but the
snails and cuttle-fish and devil-fish
ltavo teeth, and even the little rotifers
pound their food, the lower jaw serv¬
ing as an anvil on which the food is
crushed by the two hammers of the
upper jaw. Certaiu spiders, centi¬
pedes, beetles, ants, grasshoppers and
the common fly have teeth. Cows
have teeth in their lower jaws only,
and frogs have teeth only in their
upper jaws. Toads, tortoises, turtles
and some lizards have none. Lobsters
and crabs chew will) their horny jaws,
hut they have complete sets of teeth in
their gizzard-like stomachs, and when
the shell is cast the teeth are also shed
along with the stomach lining. Some
birds of ancient times had true teeth
placed in sockets in their jaws. The
“tusks” of the elephant and other ani¬
mals are teeth.—[The Ledger.
Electric Light Bugs.
When the first Atlantic cable was
laid scientists asserted that an insect
would appear which would attempt to
destroy it, and, sure enough, in a
short time an insect not classified by
entomologists began its work on the
insulation material that protected the
cable from the water. The electric
lighting systems of large cities seem
now to have developed a similar con¬
dition of things in the form of what
are called electric-light bugs; and,
singularly, each system of fighting
seems to have Us own peculiar ephe-
mera. The insects do not damage the
insulation material of arc lamps, but
they do bother the learned entomolo-
gists who are kept busy trying to
^,iiings classify the thousands of winged
that flutter about the fights of :
warm nights.—[.Cincinnati Commer- j
cial.
LOST THEIR SCALPS.
People Who Have Survived a
Terrible Ordeal.
How the Indian Secures His
Bloody War Trophy.
Did I ever see a man who lmd been
scalped aud who recovered? exclaims
General J. S. Barbin' in tho New
York Ledger. Yes, once. His name
was Thomas Cahono, and he was a
freight conductor on tlie Union Pacific
Railroad. One day in April, 1868, as
Cahone was running his train near
Sidney, Nebraska, while crossing a
small stream, he had to halt for some
time, and he and a man named Willis
Edmonston got out to fish. They were
unarmed, but did not think of danger,
although Indians had been coming
and going through the country. Tho
terminus of the road was then at Chey-
euuc. They had not been fishing long
when suddenly a party of mounted
Sioux Indians rushed down upon them,
although they were in full sight of the
town of Sidney.
The Indians first attempted to run
off a band of horses near by, hut in this
they failed. They then turned upon
the fishermen, aud, riding up t6 them,
began firing arrows into their bodies.
Edmonston received four arrows and
died. Cahone had several arrows shot
into him, the Indians riding up close
alongside aud firing at short range.
One arrow pierced Calione’s lungs and
lie fell bleeding profusely. An Indian
advanced, dismounted, and took Ca-
hone’s scalp proper from the top of
his head. Another Indian rode up and
cut a strip about four inches wide aud
seven inches long from the side of Ca-
houe’s head. All this time the man
' either unconscious lay still.
was or
The Indians, thinking him dead, did
not mutilate his body beyond scalping
him.
There was at that time a small de¬
tachment of United States troops sta¬
tioned at Sidney, under command of
Lieutenant,now Captain Bubb, United
States Army. Seeihg the attack from
the village, Lieutenant Bubb and his
men, reinforced by the citizens, rushed
out to the assistance of the men. They
found Cahone still living, took him in,
and sent him to Omaha, where the
arrows were extracted and liis wounds
dressed. It was not believed he could
recover, hut lie did, and regained ex¬
cellent health.
I often saw him afterward on the
Union Pacific Railroad, whore he had
been advanced to passenger conductor,
and one day lie showed me his head.
It was not a pleasant sight, but ho said
it did not hurt him in the least. He
wore a wig, aud seldom took off his
hat, which entirely covered up his
wounds. He was a handsome young
fellow, and was only twenty-five years
old when ho was scalped. He hud
served in a Pennsylvania regiment
during the Civil War.
Many years ago, when I was at
Fort Buford, the Indians at Fort
Berthold, just above Buford, had an
old Indian who had been scalped by
the Sioux, His head was entirely
skinned down to tho ears. He was
kept in a lodge by himself and seldom
came out, nor did the Indians like to
have any ono go and see him. They
considered it a great disgrace that ono
of their tribe should have been scalped.
I have been told that the Crows, at one
time, had several houses which they
called “the scalped men's houses,” and
in them lived Indians of the Crow
tribe who had been scalped in wars
with the Sioux.
That scalping is not necessarily fatal
is proved by the case of Mrs. Jane
Johns. This woman' was scalped, in
Florida, by Indians, ami survived.
The physician who attended her re¬
ported :
“I mcas...’ed the ex'ent of the skull
divested of its natural covering, and
found it nine and one-half inches from
above one car to the ear on the oppo¬
site side of the head. Only a few
hairs had been left above,the forehead
and at the back of the neck. ”
This was certainly a had case of
scalping, still the woman lived to a
good old age. From this it will ap¬
pear that, wliila being scalped by an
Indian is a decidedly unpleasant op-
eration, it is not necessarily fatal; aud
that, while Indians scalp their enemies,
they do not do it for the sake of cru¬
elty, hut to prove to their people that
they have been brave in battle by over-
-oming a foe. The Milky Way in the
fijy is the Indians’ road to the Happy
Hunting-Grounds, and all who die in
battle go there immediately, riding on
;h e j r ponies, which the Indians kill to
iccompany them on t£eir journey.
- — ---
it is a sign that her husband is mak-
jng money witen a woman begins to
get the look on her face of looking at
you without seeing you.
The Conductor Did Not Understand.
It is u custom on some street raiL
tvays to give annual passes, which arc
numbered. Theso passes are not
necessarily shown euch time a man
rides on the cars of that lino, but csch
one bears a numbor, and when asked
for his faro, tho holder of the pass
calls out the numbor of his pass.
Not long sinco tho holder of pass
No. 13 on otto of tho Seattle linos got
on a car, accompanied by two ladies,
for whom ho must, of course, pay
fare. It happoned that the conducior
was a new man aud not - acquainted
with the pass system.
The conductor entered the car in
quest of fares, and tho first person ho
approachod was < tho holder of (ho
pass.
Tho gentleman handed him a dollar
to tako tho ladies’ fares from, at the
same time remarking distinctly “Thir¬
teen.”
The conductor took the dollar and
then began ringing tho bell of the
register. “Ding, ding, ding, ding,
ding, ding, ding, ding,” went tho
bell.
“Here, here,” broke in the passen¬
ger, “What in thunder aro you trying
to do!”
“Didn’t you say that you wanted to
pay for thirteen ?”
“No, yon double-breasted lunkhead!
I hold pass No. 18, and want to pay
•for two ladies!”
“Oh,” exclaimed the conductor,
mildly, “why didn’t you say so be¬
fore ! ”
Thou the hell-puller gave the passen¬
ger back his change and inwardly de¬
termined to got even on the first small
hoy that attempted to steal a ride.
—[Seattle (Wash.) l’ress.
Fate of Old Wooden Ships.
A man stepped into ono of tho old
shipping offices on Front street the
other day to have a look at the Mari¬
time Register. An old sea captain
who had been reading it remarked as
the visitor laid the sheet aside, after
an apparently fruitless inspection:
“Don’t find what you were looking
for, eh?”
“No,” was the answer; “I was
looking for tho B--, but she isn’t
listed iu this number."
“Old ship?”
“Yes. I sailed iu her twenty years
ago.”
“Oh, well, then she belongs to the
Germans by this time.”
“How’s that?”
“Well the Germans don’t build
ships, leastwise wooden ones, so much
as some other people do. They buy
second-hand ships, and they do most
of their buying in America. Tito
German merchants operate on smaller
capital than ours, and they can t or
won’t put as much money into timber
as they do here. They lnve a sharp
eye for bargains, too, let me tell you,
and when they find a tub that’s some-
wise slow or leaky, but presentable
and cheap,'they buy her, copper-bot¬
tom her, and start her on her travels
again. There's lots of Amcrican-built
ships flying the Dutchman’s llagatonr
wharves. Borne Norwegians buy ’em
too, but it’s mostly Germans that get
’em.”
This throws a light on the old ships,
but tho pins, pianos and sewing ma¬
chines are still to be accounted for.
—[.Maritime Register.
Ben Franklin’s “Plug” Hat.
How few of us know that tho stove¬
pipe liat, which has come to be regard¬
ed as “quite foreign, y’ know,” origi¬
nated in the United States and was
introduced into Europo by that lovely
old Arcadian, Benjamin Franklin. The
old gentleman came to Paris in the
spring of 1790, wearing the simple at¬
tire of ttte quakors. A distinguishing
feature of this was the hat, which has
narrowed aud heightened into the
fashionable “plug” of today. It was
low-crowned and broad-brimmed, and
presented so quaint an aspect that tho
Parisian dandies were disposed to
mako it the butt of their wit. Not 60 ,
however, the rest. The leaders of tho
French revolution fancied that hat and
they forthwith adopted it lo be their
own. In three days 7 time the Frank¬
lin hat, as ’twas called, was the rage-
And from that time—just 100 years
ago—the tile has grown in favor, al¬
though it is probable that a machine
more destructive to the hair and more
useless for practical purposes was
never invented.—[Chicago News.
A Yachting Costume.
Rich Uncle (affectionately) — My
dear, as yon are so fond' of going out
yachting with the young men, I have
bought you a yachting costume, which
I had maffe to order.
Pretty Niece (ecstatically)—Ob, you
dear, sweet old uncle! What lovely
material! But what is all this stuffing
around the shoulders?
Uncle (scntentiouslyj—Cork!
CHILDREN’S COLUMN.
run DKWDROP.
I’m Just a drop of dew-
You can’t see why I roam,
So wee a drop,
So free a drop,
Bo far away from home.
But then, I’m not alone—
Just look around and sec!
A million others,
My little brothers,
They keep me company
And tiny as we are.
The blossoms know the worth
Of tears so bright
That Mother Night
Drops on the thirsty enrth!
— [Charles F. Luiumis In Youth’s Compnn
ion.
TtIK KAMOVS ST. BERNARD DOOS.
The famous St. Bornurd dogs art
very carefully trained. A travelei
who visited some of (ho monaster¬
ies of the monks of St. Bernard a few
years ago found the monks leaching
their dogs from the earliest stages of
puppyhood. Not only is physical and
menial training included in (ho teach¬
ing, hut spiritual culture is by no
means neglected. At meal time tho
dogs sit in a row, each with a tin dish
before him containing his repast.
Grace is said by one of the monks;
the dogs sit motionless with bowed
heads. Not one stirs until the
“Amen” is spoken. If a frisky pup¬
py partakes of his meal before graco
is over an older dog growls and gently
tugs his ears.—[Our Dumb Animals.
GRATITUDE OF A WILD ANIMAL.
The other morning Keeper llavci*
performed a very delicate operation.
Tho lioness Mollie chewed a piece of
raw beef which the hulchov had
citoppcd up with a cleaver, leaving
some fragments of bone in tho flesh.
A largo sliver of hone pierced the
lioness’ gum on tho outside of the jaw
next lo tho cheek just below tho left
eye. The place swelled and festered
and the animal suffered a great deal of
pain, aud she was unable to eat. Yes¬
terday morning Keeper Havens went
to the cage and by coaxing (he lioness
he got her to lie down and ho then
slipped ropes over her fore feet,
stretching them to either side of the
cage and tying them securely.
Mollie kicked aud struggled until
the keeper fondled Iter awhile. Af¬
ter she was secure ho entered the
cage all alone, and taking her head be¬
tween his knees he cut a small incision
in the cheek and drew out the sliver,
an inch in length. He did the work
all alone. Yesterday afternoon, aftei
she had been released several hours,
ho visited the cage, and she met him
with a gratified look, holdiug the
wound up to the bars of the cage as if
she were glad that he iiad performed
the operation that relieved her, and
site appeared as docilo and as kindly
as a kitten, although she had been
tierce and resentful before.— [Atlanta
Constitution.
BILLY.
Billy was a peddler’s horse. Every
day he drew a large wagon along the
country roads. This large wagon was
loaded with tins and brooms. Jt was
a heavy load to draw. He stopped at
all the houses, so that his master could
sell tho biooms and tins. One day,
after he had traveled a long time<
Billy stopped. There was no house in
sight. Ho was tired and hungry.
“Go along,” said his master,
“No,” said Billy.
This is tho way Billy said “No.’’
lie set his fore feet out. Ho laid back
his ears and shook his head.
His master got out of the wagon and
patlcd him.
Billy didn’t stir.
lie moved the harness here and there
and patted him more.
Billy didn’t stir.
He talked to him in a very pleasant
‘.one.
But Billy didn’t stir.
What was to be done ?
The peddler wanted to sell his
brooms and tins and go homo; but he
could not do it if Billy refused. He
went to the back of the wagon, A
gentleman who passed thought he was
going to witip the horse; the peddler
knew better. Ho took a pail from the
wagon; there was some meal in the
pail. He showed it to Billy, then he
walked on and set the pail down.
Billy Could see the pail.
Pretty soon Billy lifted his ears and
looked very good-natured. He went
forward to the pail.
Then his master Jet him eat the meal;
then lie put the pail back iu the wagon
and Billy trotted off briskly with his
load.
This meal was better for both Billy
aud his master than the whip.— [Lit¬
tle Folks’ Header.
“If women ever become railroaders,
I can recommend Bridget as a brake-
woman,” sighed Mrs. Snaggs, as she
gazed at tho latest accumulation ol
broken crockery.
NO. 42.
A Child of Seven.
AH the bells of heaven may ring,
All the birds of heaven may sing, •
All the winds on earth may bring
All sweet sounds together;
Sweeter far than all things heard.
Hand of harper, tone of bird,
Sounds of Woods at sundown atirTed,
Welling water’s winsome word,
Wind in warm, warm weather;
One thing yet there is, that nouo
Hearing ere its chimes be done,
Knows r.ot well the sweetest one
.
Heard of man beneath the Sun
Hoped In heaven hereafter;
Soft and strong, and loud and light,
Very round and very light,
H< aril from morning’s rosiest height,
Where the soul of all delight
Fills a child’s clear laughter.
Golden bells, of. welcome rolled
Never forth such notes, nor told
Hours so blithe in tones so bold
As the radiant mouth of goui,
) Here that rings forth heaven.
If the golden breasted wren
Were a nightingale—why then,
Something seen anti heard of men
Might be half as sweet as when
Laughs a child of seven.
— [Algernon G. Swinburne.
HUMOROUS*
A joint concern—A skcloion.
A crying need—A handkerchief.
Always struck on the ltcadr—
Matches.
itailrond engineers should be experts
in keeping (rack of things.
It is unreasonable to expect a man to
bo collected if his hills aro not.
The average burglar, though ho may
ho regarded as a crook, t is true as
steel.
When ono lays hold of a severed
bell-ropo ho fails to touch a responsive
cord.
It is a question which is tho more
helpless, a baby or tho man who is
trying to hold it.
“Mamma, let me hold tho baby, will
you?” “No, dear; mother is afraid
you might let him full on Fhlo.”
Johnny, you little dunce, no! Of
course a hen doesn’t make a goose of
herself if she sets on duck’s eggs.
A rabbit was umong the prizes of¬
fered in a Western athletic contest.
The man who won it .took the bun.
“I’ve time hut for a line,” wrote
the Arizona horso-thief to his parents.
Aud in five minutes the lino was
stretched.
Jack Lateboy—“Doctor, I suiter
terribly with insomnia. I don’t sleep
at night. What do you recommend?”
Doctor—“Why don’t you try going to
bed?”
“Oil, no; let’s not go!” exclaimed
the little boy as his nurse proposed gp-
ing on hoard a yacht, and then tho
youngster hurst into tears, “Why,
Willie, what in the world is tho mat¬
ter?” “I just h-h-heafd one m-m-man
tell another to set the s-s-spauker.”
Not Signed by the Bank President.
The clerk of a well-known Now
York hotel proved a day or two ago
that lie possesses a sharp, quick eye.
A young business man from tlio West
handed him a $'00 bill in payment of
a small amount. “I cannot accept
this,” replied tho clerk lo the aston¬
ished young man, who had taken the
note from a large roll of hills received
from a hank in his native town. “It
A not signed by the president of the
oank.” Investigation proved this
statement true. The note was issued
jy one of tho national banks of Stock-
ton, Cal. It was sigtied by the cashier
of the bank, but the space reserved for
the signature of the president was
Rank. The note boro evidence of
.ise, and perhaps lmd boon in circula¬
tion for u number of years.—[Chicago
Times.
Woman’s Home Duties.
The man who considers that the
homo duties of a woman are inferior
lo the political work of a man must be
either a bachelor or blind. Tho very
highest qualities of the heart and in¬
tellect may be exercised by a mother,.
sister or an older daughter, in watch-
ing over the physical, mental and
moral growth of the children in Iter
care. Heroin patience and vigilance
that never tires, tan adaptation of
means to tho end, a careful study of
individual traits, and a keen .psycho¬
logical insight, may find ample room
for exercise within the four walls of
m humble home.
Influence o( the Seashore on Leaves.
M. Pierre Lesage shows by conclu¬
sive evidence in a recent thesis, that a
marine habitat leads to a thickening
of the leaves. The palissade cells are
more numerous and larger than in the
leaves of the same plants grown in¬
land. Apparently the sea salt is the
’ plants cul¬
cause of this alteration as
tivated in artificially salted soil yield
thicker leaves. The observations of
M. Lesage bear on some ninety species,
of plants which are found i f their
natural state near the sea as well'as
inlaud.