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YOU. II.
Since Life Is Fleet.
fgl tho swift years full, my dear,
Since life i* fleet;
Lovn, and hold love fast, i#y dear,
lie is so sweet;
gwastest, dearest, fleetest, comer,
Fledgling of the sudden summer.
Lots, hut not too well, my dear.
When skies are gray,
And the autumn winds are here,
Love will away;
Fleetest, vaguest, farthest rover,
Wltou the summer’s warmth Is over.
— [Louise Chandler Moulton.
TOM, DICK AND HARRY.
l'.y ANNA SIIEILD9.
I am Tom I Dick is my brother.
and wo aro tho orphaned sons of
Richard Hope, who went down with
the Saucy Jane with iiis wife and tho
fortune he had made in California,
when wo wore but six years old. Wo
were twins, and clinging to eacli other,
wero picked up by a passing steamer
and carried to New York. I was old
enough to know and tell that wo were
going to visit our aunt, Mrs. Dresilale
of Oakhill, and kindly strangers saw
that ivo arrived there safely, forlorn
little orphan beggars. Bnt fresh mis¬
fortune met us, for our aunt died one
week after she gave us a tearful wel¬
come.
Wo had no real claim upon Cyrus
Dresdalc, being only bis wife’s
nephews, but out of his groat generous
heart be gave us the place of sons in
his home. Dear Unci# Cy! Never
were boys made happier than lie made
ns for four years, sending us to school
and giving us every pleasure boys do -
light in, and, above all, Biich loving
companionship as feiv enjoy, even
with their own father.
Then the chahge came. Uncle Cy
married again, and Ids wife could not
endure to hare two great rmle boys
about the house. Every day. every
hour, we committed some unpardon¬
able offense, and found all pleasures
restricted. First, our ponies were
sold; then our rabbits and guinea-pigs
were killed; then wo were moved
from our large, beautiful room to a
miserable little attic where ivo baked
in summer and froze in wintor.
Undo Cyrus stood by us' as far as
ids quiet, peace-loving disposition
allowed, but his now wife ruled with
a rod of iron, and, at last, seeing wo
could not please her, he sent ns to
boarding-school. Homo-sick for <l
week, we were thoroughly happy af¬
terward, and wanted for no pleasure
Uncle Cy could give us. I cannot
dwell too long on our boy-life, but
we, Dick and mysolf, can novor for.
get the kindness of Uncle Cyrus Dres-
dale. We came to Oakhill sometimes
for a brief holiday, and this brings
me to Ilarry.
Harriet Dresdale was the only child
of our dear Uncle Cyrus, and was
born just one year after his second
marriage. It was uncle himself who
gave her her nickname, greatly to
Mrs, Dresdalo’s disgust, but, as be
said:
“Really, my dear, I must complete
tho trio, Tom, Dick and Harry.”
We were twenty-one years of ago
when Uncle Cyrus took us into his
study one morning and made a brief
speech that I shall never forget.
“My dear boys,” lie said, “for you
aro as dear to me as sons, and have
made me proud of you many times
)
I must send you away once more.
We will not talk about the reason, but
you know it is not bccauso I do not
love you. You have good education,
good morals, and I am not afraid to
trust you. You, Tom, will practice
your profession, and Dick can go into
business, since lie wishes it; but you
will oacli find fen thousand dollars in
the G-Bank that is your own. I 1
will keep you from want until you
make more by your own talents and
exertions. Coirc somotimos to see
me; do not forget that 1 love you.”
He broke down there and wo hung
about him as if we wore still little
boys, full of love and gratitude, and
keenly awaro of the cruelty of separ¬
ating us from him.
Off to the great city, where Dick
opened a drug-store and I put out a
doctor’s sign. Wo had both studied
medicino,but Dick would not practice.
His was a delicate, sensitive nature,
most unlike my own, and he could
not bear the sight of suffering. We
were unlike in all tilings, and no one
would have guessed we were twins. I
was fall, strong and dark, not in the
least handsome, Dick was slender
and fair, with a rare beauty of face
and a gentleness that was almost
womanly.
We had been seven years in the city
and once more were at home at Oak-
bill, when we could spare a vacation,
for Mrs. Dresdale was dead. There
was nothing said, there could not be,
but we knew that we were welcome,
and we stole many a day to run down
<0 visit dear Uncle Cyrus, and, it must
THE ENTERPRISE. t
bo told, foil In loro with Harry. Can
I mnko you boo her, this cotuiit who
was not our cousin? Brown, curling'
hair shaded a-faco of pnro oval shape
with delicate, regular features. Groat
blue eyes, soft, wiltful, innocent as a
babe's, lighted lior beauty, and lier
smile* displayed perfect teeth. She
was not tall, but her figure was grace¬
ful and prettily rounded, and her
hands and feet were dainty as a
fairy's.
Site was frank and sisterly with us
and always gave us cordial welcome,
ami wo novor guessed each othor’s do-
volion, because wo could not well
leave the city at the same timo, Dick
leaving mo in charge of hi* storo and
clerks, and taking my practice in re¬
turn.
Not until Undo Cyrus died did we
know that wo both loved llurry, nn4
then a crushing blow fell. For it was
found, aftor our uncle was buried,
that lie had left nothing of a once
noble fortune. Nothing for tho deli¬
cately nurtured child who had never
known a wish ungratified. Harry’s
aunt, Mrs. Lcyburn, took her liotnc,
and tho beautiful house at Oakhill
was sold, After all the confusion
was over and there came a breathing
spell, Dick took mo into his confi¬
dence.
Like blows from a hammer hi 8
words fell on my heart.
“Tom,” ho said to mo, “I have
boon oyer to sec Harry. Foor little
girl, she is very miserable. All her
bright, pretty smilos are gone, Tom.
It would make your heart ache to see
how pale and sad she is.”
41i! Had it not already made my
heart ache ?
“Sho has lost the kindest father,
Dick,” 1 said.
“And, as if that was not sorrow
enough,” said Dick, “thoy are not
kind to her at Loyburn’s.”
“Not kind to her!” I cried. “I
thought thoy fairly worshiped her.”
“So they did when they thought
Uncle Cyrus was wealthy. Now they
loll her every day that she must find
something to do—some work to earn
a living.”
“Never!” I cried. “Why, Dick,
we owe everything to Uncle Cyrus
and we are not poor men now.”
Then Dick said, in a faltering voico:
“Do you think, Tom, it is too soon
after her loss for mo to tell Harry how
I love her—to ask her to be my wifo?”
The room seemed to bo reeling
around me; Dick’s face grew dim; his
voico sounded far away. IIo loved
Harry I And I was only waiting un¬
til the first bitterness of her grief was
over to ask her to be my wife. Fool
that I was! Wliat was my homely
face compared to Dick’s beauty; my
quiet ways against his grace and ten¬
derness? Before he spoke again I had
recovered from the shock his words
gave me, and resoived to keep my
secret. Let him win her if he could.
I dared not think of my own chance
if sho refused him. Time enough for
that.
Day after day ho sought her, yet
kept silent. Little guessing the tor¬
ture he inflicted, ho told me of his
wrong, bnt ever with tho samo re¬
frain.
“Sho gives mo no chance to toll her
how I love her, Tom! She is like a
sister, only.”
I kept away, but my hope grew
stronger. if she loved Dick as a sis-
ter, might it not be that I—homely
and quiot as I was—had won the
de.eper lovo I craved. My patience
must have been great in those days.
Every lonely hour was filled with
dreams of Harry’s fair, sweet face,
hor low, musical voico, her bright.
winning grace. I recalled every lov¬
ing word she had ever spoken to mo,
every caress she had given to me. 1
knew that even in her childhood I had
given her more than a brother’s love,
and I saw that her mother had dreaded
lest she should love one of the penni¬
less boys who were so dear to their
adopted uncle.
Wo had begun, Dick and myself, to
turn some of our investments into
ready money, to make a fund for
Harry.
“She shall have the twenty thou¬
sand uncle gave us,” we said, although
it would cripple ns somewhat for a
time to take so largo a sum out of our
fortunes. Nothing had been said to
her, for we were afraid she would re¬
fuse to takejit. We waited for Dick
to speak, but we gathered the money
together in bank.
It may have been the longing for a
home that first suggested to us the
idea of investing part of Harry’s
money (we always spoke of it as hers)
iu a house and some furniture, each
hoping to share }t with her. The first
real brightness that came juto her
dear faee after her father died was
when wc told her we were going to
housekeeping, and begged her to help
us select and furnish a home. Again,
AUGUST T, 1891.
I starved my own heart, and sout liet
with Dick house-hunting, until thoy
selected a house that seemed tho per¬
fection of a modest home, most unliko
the beautiful Oakliilt mansion. Hut it
was Harry’s own tasto that selected
tho furniture, suited to tho small
rooms, but good in quality, and Harry
said: “Ever so pretty!”
“It was all ready nml paid for, and
five thousand dollnrs stilt in bank,
when wo all went over to udmiro the
final effect.
We wero standing in tho pretty
parlor when Harry said, softly:
“I hope this will bo a happy homo
for you, boys, and that there will soon
bo the sweetest of wives to share it
with you. And now, today, you
must give mo your good wishes, too.
I am going to be married.”
“Married!”
Who said it?- The voice was choked
and very hoarse. Not mine; surely
not Dick’s.
•‘Papa know,” said Harry; “but
we were to wait until Charlio was a
little moro prosperous. I was not
sure” and Harry’s eyes dropped—
“whether my loss of fortune would
not make me less attractive to Charlio,
bnt I wronged him. We will be very
poor, but I hope I can help him, and
wc have made up our minds not to
wait for money. Some (lay we may
invite you to our house, but in th e
meantime yon will coino to sco us
where wc aro boarding, will you
not?”
I answered, pitying tho ghastly
white face thatDick had turned to the
window. And 1 continued my answer
by asking:
“Who is Charlie? You forget wo
have not seen him, nor, indeed, seen
you as much as wo would have
wished.”
“Charlie Foster, a clerk in a bank,
Dick has met him.”
“Yes,” Dick answered, in a low
voice. “A flue fellow lie is, too, Harry.
Como, Tom, wc must be going.”
Not a word was spoken until wo
stood faco to face in our own room.
Then Dick looked me in the eyes.
“You, too, ’Jem?” ho said. “I
never dreamed of that."
“I wanted you should have the first
chaiico, Dick. Bnt it is all over. Shall
we take Doctor Merton's offer?”
For we had an opening that prom¬
ised well in another city. It had
scarcely been considered, but it camo
ns a relief, and we accepted it. Our
wedding present to Harry was tho
house and the five thousand dollars*
her father's generous gift to us in tho
past. It is many long years since that
wedding day that we faced manfully,
and we aro rich men—Dick and my¬
self. But we never married, and our
money will go to Harriet Foster’s three
boys, Tom, Dick and Harry.—[Tho
Ledger.
Chinese Truck Farms.
Rev. F. D. Kelsey, of Montana, has
written an interesting articlo in refer¬
ence to Chinese truck farms in that
state. IIo says there arc some fifty
farms carried on by this class of peo¬
ple in and around Helena, the farms
varying in extent from one-fifth of an
acre up to twenty or thirty acres. In
fact these Chinamen have monopo¬
lized the small gardening business in
and around that city. Their field work
is somewhat peculiar, and adapted to
a land where rain seldom fulls. Every¬
thing must be a> arranged that it can
be irrigated. Where less than half an
acre is under cultivation, the Chinese
use hand sprinklers. Frequently they
rent a few acres from a man who lias
an unquestioned water right,survey the
land carefully, and bring tho water in
a ditch to the highest point of the
patch. From these they conduct tho
water in smaller ditches anywhere
they wish, the patcli being platted out
as regularly us city squares and streets.
Eacli plat is wide enough to bo reached
half way across by tho gardener on
one side and by his hired man on the
other. The water is run into these
ditches and little sido branches, and
from them to tho vegetable beds to
soak in until the whole is thoroughly
wet, wficn tho water is turned off to
another bed, and so on until the whole
field is well watered. This requires
the time and labor of two Chinamen
on a large place.
The rents paid by Chinamen aro
enormous. They take from three to
ten years lease and pay $25 per acre,
in lots of ton acres or more.
An Important Animal.
Teacher—John, of what are your
shoes made?
Boy—Of leather, sir.
Teacher—Where does the leather
come from?
Soy—from the hide of the ox.
Teacher—What animal, then, sup.
plies you with shoes and gives you
meat to eat?
Boy—My father.— [New York
World.
THE FIG TRADE.
Whore Figs Come From and
How They Are Imported.
California Has a Substitute for
tho Turkish Fruit.
“I would not given fig for it.” This
is an old expression. You hear it
every day. It was evidently first used
by some one who bad tho idea that a
fig was not a valuable articlo. One
fig is not worth much, but when you
realize that tho people of tlio II nited
States pay about $1,000,000 fertile
tigs they consume in a year you will
rculizo that a fig is worth something
after all.
Nearly all tho figs consumed in tills
country are imported from Smyrna,
Turkey. They grow In clusters on a
rather small tree with spreading
branches, which, when laden with
fruit, often touch tho ground. Tho
figs aro picked by hand and dried by a
process of evaporation. They aro
then dipped in a solution of sugar,
dried again, paced in boxes that con¬
tain from ono to twenty pounds
and then aro ready for ship¬
ment. Those are tho better grades of
figs. 'Flic cheaper grhdcs are shipped
in bags and baskets, and aftor reach¬
ing this country aro used by candy
manufacturers and dealers, who steam
them and sort out tho best, which they
pack into quarter and half-pound
boxes. The refuse figs—those not fit
for anything' else—are ground up and
made into “fig paste” and other stuff
of the kind. There is also a manu¬
factured fig, which is made out of
ground-up figs, glucose ^and sugar.
Tho only things figgy about them aro
tho seeds and the greon loaves packed
in the boxes with them. Tho seeds
are genuine—the leaves arc not.
About fifteen figs make a pound,
and about five and a half millions aro
imported into tins country every year.
The boxed figs cost the importer from
11 to 15 cents a pound according to
the grade. The importer sells them
to the jobber, who pays an advanco
of from one-half to one cent a pound
on them. The jobber sells them to
the retailer, getting about the same
advance in price as the importer. Tho
retailor sells them to the consumers*
making tho largost profit of all. He
gets an advanco of from 2 to 5 cents a
pound, and sometimes more, Hotels
uso large quantities of figs. Thoy aro
served just as they are taken from tho
box. Dealors in tigs have them
graded into what thoy call choice,
London layer, and fancy, with prices
respectively 14, 18 1-2 and 24 cents.
New York is the greatest distribut¬
ing point for imported figs, although
a largo quantity is received through
Boston dealers. Tho duty on figs is
now 2 1-2 cents a pound. It was
raised’a half cent by the McKinley
bill. Largo quantities are shipped
from California, tho only place in the
country where figs are raised to any
extent. Within the last five years the
cultivation of figs has become quite
an industry in California. There arc
plenty of fig orchards tliCrs and large
quantities of figs liavo been shipped to
the East, but there is very little de¬
mand for them. They arc dry and
when packed are very dark blue figs
with thick, tough skins and they have
scarcely any seeds in them. They
taste quite different from the whito
Smyrna fig.
Fruit dealers say that Californians
have not yet learned how to cure tigs,
but that they are improving, and that
it is only a quostion of time whon they
will drivo tho foreign tigs out of this
market, just ns they have driven out
prunes and raisins. California con¬
sumes most of its own ligs. About
half a car load—15,000 pounds—was
shipped to this city last season. Most
of these are still in the hands of tho
dealers. They have a way of preserv¬
ing fig* out there, and serving
them with sugar and cream, This
makes a delicious dessert. The
California dried figs sell in this
market at from 6 to 9 cents a pound.
Some enterprising Californian has
prepared what is called crystalizcd
figs. They arc put through a.preserv¬
ing process and then they arc
packed loosely in one and two pound
boxes. These are tho most expensive
figs in the market, as they retail for
50 and 90 cents a box. Green figs are
considered quite a delicacy in Califor¬
nia, where thoy are eaten like any
other fruit, either from the tree or
with cream and sugar.—[New York
Recorder.
Tricks of Shoplifters.
An old trick, which is now too well
known to be practised safely, consists
jn tarrying around a ladies’ bat box
half of the cover of which is hinged
so that it ean be lifted lip and Stolen
articles thrush in. A common trick
today fc to pick up an empty paper
bag, such as is used in the store, and
distend it by blowing into it, so that
it lms the ajipearaitco of bolng full.
The air is roplacod with spoils at leis¬
ure.
Tho shoplifter’s pocket is a well-
known dovico. It is made of muslin
and was originally so big that, when
fastened under tho dress at the waist,
it reached bolow her knee*. There, is
a long opening through the dross just
below the waistband, sometimes big
enough to thrust a buby in. This
opening is covered from vlow by a
flap of tho waist, which, however, can
bo liftod up. Somotimos these poc¬
kets are found with almost enough
merchandise insido to start a small
shop. Largo pockets aro seldom used
nowadays, because most stores aro so
carefully watched that professional
shoplifters aro perforce contented with
smaller daily hauls than formerly.
Besides, modorn fashions do not per¬
mit of tho safe gathering of •much
bulk about tho person of tho sliop-
liftor.
What do shopliftors do with their
spoils when they aro so loaded up
that walking is uncomfortnblc? De-
teclivo Cults, who lms had a largo ex¬
perience in ono of Now York's big¬
gest storos, ono day followed two wo¬
men who, ho was sure, had been
shoplifting for several hours, yet so
cleverly that lie could not gather evi¬
dence enough to warrant tlioir arrest
When they left lie followed. Thoy
went up asido stroct and entored ono
of those side entrances to a saloon
loading into a small room partitioned
oil' for women. Quick as a thought
Decteelivo Cults ran in tho front
door and said to tho bartendor:
“Soo here, you know me. Lend mo
your apron, I want to wait on thoso
women.”
Tying on tho apron tho detective
answered tho call of tho women and
served them with beer. IIo waited a
few minutes, and then went in to find
them pulling out all sovts of merchan¬
dise and making thorn into bundles.
“Oli,” said ho, “want any moro
beer?”
“No,” said tho women.
“Been shopping I soe.”
“Yes.”
“Got all those tilings at tho storo,
ch?”
“Yes, but wliat’s that to you?"
“It’s this much to me,” said the
mock bartender. “I’m tho store do-
tcctive, and I want you to go back
with mo and pay for them.”
Shoplifters who steal for business
nml tako as much ns they can get dis¬
pose of their stealings about their per¬
sons only temporarily while in tho
store. Once outside, thoy find soma
quiet place in which to disgorge, anil
arrange their stealings, and tho pri¬
vate rooms in saloons aro vory con¬
venient for tho purpose. — [New York
Sun.
One of Nature’s Graveyards.
“The Bad Lands of Dakota.” Baid
Prof. J. B. Wilkinson, “are good for
nothing on (lie face of the earth but
fossils. It is a fact that every portion
of the hills there, however, aro
absolutely filled with evidences of an¬
imal life. Fossil insects, fishes, birds,
die bones of tho elephant, tho masto¬
don, of tlio lion, the tiger, anil of
scores, if not hundreds, of extinct an¬
imals and species, are to he found in
•the sumo hillside. In one declivity,
where the rain had washed away tlio
underlying earth and a heavy slide
hail occurred, I found in a space not
exceeding thirty feet square the fossil
remains of seven distinct species of
mammals, of seventeen species of fish
nml of llvo varieties of birds, while
the shellfish and insoct remains wero
too numerous to count. By wliat
great natural convulsion this district
was made Iho graveyard of millions of
animnls it is impossible to say, but
nothing short of a tremendous and
widely extended calamity could, in
one comparatively small tract, have
destroyed as many animals as must
have perished there.”—[Globc-Domo -
crat.
Shortest Horse Railway.
The shortest horse railway in tho
world is probably to be found in New
York, along the sunken road that be¬
gins at 85th street and Fifth avenue
and ends at 86th street and Central
Park West, less than half a mile. The
line is three ayenue blocks long, and
consists of a double track. Its equip¬
ment is two small cars, two lanky
horses, two car hooks and a[played-ont
piece of broom. Two conductors anil
two drivers man the road, and the
faro is five cents, as much as on the
elevated or the other horse car lines
from the Battery to Harlem,%en miles.
From all appearances the line is doing
a paying business,it being largely pat¬
ronized by people in the Eighties on
both sides of the Park—[New York
Recorder.
FOR Til K HOUSEWIFE.
DISH WASHING AND WIDTH MANN.
An excellent and simple wash to
keep Die hands while and smooth aftor
tho occasional dish washing which
comes to almost nil housekeepers Is
equal parts of vinegar and water. It
is a good plan to keep a bottle of It
prepared and standing in tho kitchen
closet. Wash tho bands first thor¬
oughly in warm water, wipe thorn dry
and rinse thoroughly in tho mixture.
The same preparation is good to ro-
movo stains from tho hands.—[Now
York Times.
A NEW IDEA FOR SHOE KAOS.
One’s shoos so often tako up a largo
space in tho summer packing, now
that there aro many necessary sorts of
shoes to tako away for tho season,
that perhaps a suggestion for packing
them may be of uso.
It is not always convenient to liavo
brown papor handy to do thorn in,
and tlion, besides, ovory timo you
pack or unpack it moans moro brown
paper, and to bo thoroughly tidy,
string as well.
Now, if you will look ovor your
pioco bag, you are almost suro to find
some piooos of chintz, cretonne or
canvas.
Cut it in a square about eighteen
inches wide, hem it neatly around,
nml on one corner sow two tapes.
Have as many of tlicso squares ns you
liavo pairs of shoos and you will find
(hem the greatest comfort in the
world when you como to pack up.
Or, if you Wish, you can make thorn
in bags to put tho shoes in, running
strings in tho top to tie around them.
— [Now York Bun.
CORAX, HANGING BASKETS.
I have been making an old-fash¬
ioned imitation of a coral hanging
basket with vory good success, writes
Mrs. Stoole. Years ago 1 made n
number of baskets for friends, anil al¬
though (bo work may not bo tho latost
“crazo” in fancy work, one who tnkos
the very small amount of trouble to
make ono will liavo a pretty ami ser¬
viceable ornament. Tho foundation
for tho basket may not bo as easily
obtained now as it was years ago
when hoop-skirts wero worn; how¬
ever, I found no difficulty in procuring
hoops with tho covering on;
these I bent in a pretty shape for a
basket and tiod witli wrapping twine,
leaving the ends of tho twino about a
quarter of an inch long, Whon tho
basket was well shaped I covered it
with knots and ends of string, ar-
ranging thorn about an inch apart all
ovor tho basket, leaving onds of ir¬
regular length, but nono longor than
an inch, and tying knots of different
sizes. When my basket was deoo-
rated all over in this manner I molted
one-half a pound of beeswax in n
shallow pan and stirred in enough
Japanese vermilion to get tho Uosirod
coral color, then by rolling the basket
well in the melted wax it adhered to
tho knots and hoops and completely
covered them, When the baskot be-
came cool I had a very pretty orna-
ment and a useful ono. Tlieso lias-
kets are very durable and will evon
stand tbo tost of being exposed to tho
weather a number of seasons.—[Prai¬
rie Farmer.
RKCIFES.
Chicken Cutlets—Aftor dressing a
tender fowl cut it in such portions as
will afford slices about an inch thick,
for broiling, first dipping the pieces
in melted butter seasoned with salt
and cayenne and placing them between
the bars of a wire gridiron; broil the
chicken just long enough before din¬
ner to liavo it hot, and serve it on a
hot plato with tart oranges cut in
quarters. A potato salad gios well
with tlio chicken.
Prune Jelly—I’ut one pound of fin¬
est French prunes over the fire with
cold water to well cover, and simmer
—not boil—until very tender. Drain,
and return the juice to the fife with
that of two oranges and two lemons,
two tablespoonfuls of sugar and half
a box of gelatine that has soaked for
an hour in a littlo cold water. If
thero is not a quart of this liquid, add
water. Simmer until the gelatine
melts and add the prunes, from which
tho stones have been removed. Pour
into small cups and stand away till
next day. Serve with whipped cream.
Nice Cake — To one-fourth pound
of dried and sifted flour add one-half
pound of sifted white sugar, cream
one-fourth pound of butter, and pour
it into the flour, stirring all the time;
blend all well together; then add four
eggs, well beaten, yolks and whites
separately, and flavor with a little rat¬
afia or vanilla essence; when these
aro well-mixed, place in a bowl near
the fire to warm, then pour mixture
into a well-buttered tin, and bake ia
a moderate oven for half an hour.
NO. 31.
My I,o«t Song.
song eatuii to me; ’t wax n sllverf
thing.
All rippling with mucMc, like brooklets In
May i
A frsgrnnce breathed through, »» of flower-
breath sweet.
And light gleamed around It, more glow¬
ing than day.
It bad come in a dream, and when I awoke
I hastened to write it; for certain l know
That by It the t\orlil would be brought near-
er Heaven
And thrilled by a glimpse of ttis good and
the true.
But ere I oould put my dream-thought into
form,
I lost It,and knew it would never be heard;
For a child, playing near uio, had blotted the
page,
Ami 1 killed my sweet song with a swift’
angry word!
How many such songs aro thus lost to ths
world I
How we fling away gifts that aro sent from
above,
All because, 111 our hearts, we are not always
ruled
By the master of all that Is beautiful—Love.
—(Myrtle Cherry man in Free Frees.
HUMOROUS.
A dollar in the pocket is worth two
in tho hand.
Itichcs bavo wings; they aro eaglo’s
wings to our coius.
In politics it is always host for a man
to refuso what lie cannot get.
After a jolly dog lias had Iiis day ho
usually goes to tho bow-wows.
It is so much easier to toll people
how good they should bo than it is to
show them.
Tho man who avoids mistakes by
never trying to do anything, makes a
big mistake.
It is surprising tho amount of
trouble a man will endure before it
reaches him.
Now that thoy are making clot lies
out of wood liber, a now kind of moth
will have to bo Inventod.
At tho sea Bhoro, betwcon tho soa
swells and tho land swells, the land¬
lord’s pockctbook swells.
Tommy says that whon his teacher
is provoked lie knows that she is woll
provided with cholcr and cuffs.
Thero’s nothing liko sticking to a
thing when you apply yourself to it,
as tho fly said wiien it aligbtod on the
Uy- papor.
Judge—And he took yon by the
throat and choked you, did he? Pat—
Yis, sor; lie squnzod mo throat till Oi
to’ht ho’d mok cither out of me Adams
apple.
Mrs. Slim pur so—What is tho price
of this suito of furniture? Digniliod
Clerk—This is not a suito, madam. It
is ono of our $25 sets. Tho suites aro
on another floor—$100 a picoo.
A Petrified Salmon,
Henry Benson of Ilaydon Hill,
Lassen County, Cal., has in iiis poses-
sion a specimen of petrified salmon.
Tho former flosliy parts resemble
crystalizcd and vaiiogatcil quartz, re¬
taining in part the yellowish color of
tho salmon, anil what was formerly
tho skin of tho fish is now a sort of a
porcolain as hard as pure whito flint.
The texture of tho entire specimen hf
that of hardest quartz. It was found
on a hillside at aboutj 1500 altitude
front tbo floor of “Big Valloy,” and
was evidently petrified at tho point
where found. This would indicate
that the salmon formerly inhabited the
ancient rivors, tho beds of which now
form parts of the strata of tho Sierra
Nevada Mountains, anil in which
ancient channels now ho the rich de¬
posits of California’s gold.
These ancient river beds, as is well
known, aro found at various heights
above the sea lovcl, and in some placos
but a few hundred foot below tho
crests of tho highest ranges, and per.
haps hundreds of feot below tho pres¬
ent formation of tho surface of the
earth, and running entirely independ¬
ent of any present formation. To de¬
termine with certainty that this salmon
inhabited thoso ancient rivers would
bo an interesting fact, as it would fix
at a much later date than is now gen¬
erally supposed tiie geological period
whon, by mighty upheavals, theso old
river courses wero changed and oblit¬
erated from tho face of tho earth, and
gigantic mountains formed in their
stead.—[St. Louis Republic.
Keep Bnsy.
The secret of success in life is to
keep busy, to bo persevering, patient
and untiring in tho pursuit or calling
you are following. The busy ones may
now and then make mistakes, but it is
better to risk thoso than to be idle and
inactive. Keep seekingtJecreation. doing, whether it be
at work or Motion
is life, and the busiest are the happi¬
est. Cheerful, active labor is a bless¬
ing, An old philosophor says: “The
firefly only shines when on the wing;
so it is with the mind. When once we
rest.we darken.”—(British Printer.