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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.