Newspaper Page Text
VOL. II.
r* The Trundle-Bed Valley.
I know a little valley, in among the moun¬
tains bid,
A trundle-bod fer Natur’s babes with grass
green coverlid,
All buttoned down ’1th tulips, an’ all
trimmed 'ith dandelion,
A crib for Natur’s child, like me, to toddle
to an’ He on.
I love to watch the coverlid sewed with the
lily’s stem
An’ the trout brook is its blindin’ thet curves
way aroun’ its bem.
Wen the burden is too heavy fer my heart
an' han’ an’ bead.
I jest choke down my tired sobs an’ seek my
trundle-bed.
Four big mountains are its bed-posts, an’
down through its awning high,
The sun shines like a breas’-pin in the buz-
zum of the sky,
An' li shines so warm an’ fricn’ly where my
coverlid is spread,
Thet I don’t need any candle w'en I seok
roy trundle-bed.
Mother Natur’ loves her chil’ren, so the good
ol' soul has spread
Tiger-lily-tangled bed quilts over my big
trundle-bed;
An’ to give her fretful youngster no excuse
for being cross,
She has stuffed a lazy piller with the softest
kind of moss.
So, w’en I am torn an’ tired, do my weary
footsteps tread
Up the pussy-wilier valley to my little
trundle-bed;
Mother Natur’ bends her face down, and she
seems to Jove me so
That I rise an’ toddle bravely, all the way I
have to go!
— [S. AV. Foss, In the Yankee Blade.
THE WOMAN’S ROSE.
BY OLIVE SCHREINER.
I have an old b; own carved box;
the lid is broken and tied with a string.
In it I keep little squares of paper,
with hair inside, and a little picture
which hung over my brother’s bed
when we Avere children, and other
tilings as small. I have in it a rose.
Other women also have such boxes
where they keep such trifles, but no
one has my roso.
AYhcn iny eye is dim, and my heart
grows faint, and my faith in women
flickers, and her present is ail agony
to me, and her future a despair, the
scent of that dead rose, av ithcred for
twelve j’ears, comes back to me. 1
know there will be spring; as surely
as the birds know it when they see
above the snow two tiny, quivering
green leaves. Spring cannot fail us.
There were oilier flowers in Hie box
once; a bunch of Avliite acacia flowers,
gathered by the strong hand of a mail,
as we passed down a village street on
a sultry afternoon,when it had rained,
and the drops fell on us from tho
leaves of the acacia trees. The floAvcrs
were damp; they made mildew marks
on the paper I folded them in. After
many years I threw them aAvay. There
is nothing of (hem left in the box
now, hut a faint, strong smell of
dried acacia, that recalls that sultry
summer afternoon; but the rose is iu
the box still.
It is many years ago uoav; I Avas a
girl of fifteen, and I went to visit in
a small, up-country toAvn. It Avas
young in those days, and two d ivs
journey from the nearest village; tiie
population consisted mainly of men.
A feAV Avere married, and had their
xvives aud cliildicn, but most Avere
single. There Avas only one young
I came, She Avas
about seventeen, fair,and rather fully-
fleshed; sho had large, dreamy blue
eyes, and wavy light hair; full, rather
heavy lips, until she smiled; then her
face broke into dimples, and all her
Avliite teeth shone. Tho hotel-keeper
may have had a daughter, and the
farmer in tho outskirts had tAA’o, but
avc never saw them. She reigned
alone. All the men worshipped tier.
Sho Avas Hie only Avoman they had to
think of. They talked of her on tho
«-stoop,”at the market,at the hold ;ihey
Avatched for her at street corners;
they hated the man she bowed to or
walked Avith down the street. They
brought flowors to the front door;
they offered her their horses; they
begged her to "marry them Avhcn they
dared. Partly, there Avas something
noble and heroic in this devotion of
men to the best woman they knew;
partly there was something natural in
it, that these men, shut off from the
world, should pour at the feet of one
woman the worship that otherwise
would have been given to twenty, and
partly, there was something mean in
their envy of one another, If she had
raised her little finger, I suppose, she
might have married any one out of
of them.
Then I came. I do not think I was
prettier; I do not thiuk I was so pretty
as sho was. I was certainly not as
handsome. But i was vital, and I was
new and she was old. They all for-
sook her and followed me. They
worshipped me. It was to my door
that the flowers came; it was I had
twenty horses offered me Aviieu I could
only ride one; it Avas for me they
waited at street corners; it was Avhat
S3 £0 t L f w L m
I said and did that they talked of.
Partly I liked it. I lmd lived alono all
my life; no ono ever tcld nie that I
Was beautiful and a woman. I be¬
hoved them; I did not know it was
simply a fashion, which ono man lmd
set, ami the rest followed iinrcasoti-
•ngly. I liked them to ask me to
marry them and to say, No. 1 des¬
pised them. Tho mother heart
had not sAvcllod in mo yet; I
did not knoAv all mon AA'ero my
cliildron, as tho largo Avoman Uiioavs
Avhcn her heart is grown. I Avns too
small to bo tender. I liked my power.
I Avas like a child with a iioav whip,
Avhich it goes about cracking every¬
where, not caring against Avhnt. I
could not wind it tip and put it away.
Men Avere curious creatures, avIio liked
me, I could never tell Avliy. Only ono
tiling took from my pleasure; I could
not bear that they lmil deserted her
for me. I liked her great dreamy blue
eyes, I liked her sIoav walk and drawl;
Avhon I saiv her sitting among men,
•■she seemed to me much too good to bo
among them; I Avon Id have given all
their compliments if she Avotild once
liaA'c smiled at mo as she smiled at
them, Avith all her face breaking into
radicnce, with her dimples
and flashing teeth. But I ‘knew
it never could bo; I felt
sure she h ted me; that sho Avlshed I
Avas dead; that sho wished I Uadncvor
come to the village. She did not
know, Avlten wo Avent out riding, and
a man Avho had ahvnys ridden beside
her came to ride beside me, that I sent
him away; that once when a man
thought to win my faA’or by ridiculing
her slow draAvl before me I turned on
him so fiercely that lie never dared to
coine before me again. I knew that
she kneAv that at the hotel men had
made a bet as to which Avas the
prettier, she or I, and had asked each
man avIio came in, and Hint the one
avIio had staked on me Avon. 1 hated
them for it, but I would not let her
see tiiat I cured about what sho foit
toAvard me.
She ami I never spoke to each
oU—v.
If avc met in the village street we
bowed and passed on; when avc shook
hands we dill so silently, anil did not
look at eacli oilier. But I thought sho
felt my presence in a room just as I
felt hers.
At last the time for my going came.
I was to leave the next day. Some
one 1 kneAV gave a party in my honor,
to Avhicli all the village avias invited.
Noav it Avas midAvintcr; tlicro Avas
nothing in (lie garden but a few
dahlias and chrysanthemums, and I
suppose that for Iavo hundred miles
round i here aviis not a rose to be
bought for love or money. Only in
the garden of a friend of mine, in a
sunny corner between tiie oven and
I he brick wall, there Avas a rose treo
growing Avhich had on it one bud. It
was Avliite. It had been promised to
Hie girl to wear at tiie party’.
The evening came; when I arrived
and Avent to Hie Avaiting room to take
off my mantle, I found tho girl already'
there. She Avns dressed in a pure
white dress,witli her great Avliite arms
and shoulders her bright hair
glittering in the candle light, and tiie
Avliite rose fastened at her breast. She
looked like a qttceh. 1 said “Good
evening,” and turned away quickly to
tho glass to arrange iny old black
scarf across iny old black dross.
Then 1 felt a hand touch my lmir.
“Stand s ill,” she said.
1 looked in Hie glass. She had taken
tho Avhjto rose from her breast and
was fastening it in my hair.
“Hoav nice dark hair is; it sets off
flowers so.” She stepped back and
looked at it. “It looks mush better
J”
I turned round and looked at her.
“You are so beautiful to me,” I
“Y-o-s,” sho said, sloAvly; “I’m
We stood looking at each oilier.
Then they ciimo in and sivept us
All that evening we did not
near to eacli other. Only once,
sbe passed, sbe smiled at me.
Tiie next morning I left toAVii.
I never saw her again.
Years after I heard sho lind
and gono to America; it may or may
not be so—but the rose is in the box
still.— [NeAV Y'ork World.
Satisfactory Gxplnnation.
American Heiress—All is over be¬
tween us, sir. I heard General Know-
all say you were no count.
Count DuIIarseck—Ah, but yon haf
made mceatake. General Knowall not
say I no count; he say I was no ac¬
count.
American Heiress* — Oli! I am
yours.— [New York Weekly.
The man who was hit by a rifle ball
said that it was announced by a bul¬
letin.
CARNESVILLE, GA., FRIDAY, AUGUST 14.1891.
SHIPPING ORANGES.
Transporting the Fruit in
Paraguay.
A Procession of Women Load¬
ing a Steamer.
Tho two principal ports for shipping
oranges aro San Lorenzo and San An.
tonio. AVe staid at Hie latter, a lovely
spot on tho Paraguay river, with a
strand of yellow sand, banks fringed
with lilies, and in the background
trees, some of them forming masses
of lilac bloom. The port consists of
a square of sand, with tho cabin and
flag of the custom- house, or resguardo,
anil a short wooden jetty to tho right;
a roughly traced road leading into
the interior past a sort of store or
tambo; anil to tho left a largo tent
stretched over palm poles, with
a lattice floor inado of bam¬
boo. This tent was full of oranges;
on the sand outside Avere other moun¬
tains of oranges, and carts draAVn by
yokes of two or four oxen, preceded
by the driver, Avcaring a long poncho
and carrying a bamboo go.rd, kept
groaning and creaking down the slope,
and depositing oilier golden piles
along tho beach. Under the shady
curtain of trees Avere seated groups of
men, women and children with oranges,
bananas, mandioca, parrots, blue-jays
and monkoys, Avhich they hope to sell,
but at Hie same time making no effort
to offer their merchandise, preferring
to remain calm and indifferent, suck¬
ing mate through silver bombilias.
The steamer is moored alongside,
and a long gangway of planks is laid
on high trestles from tiie paddle-box
to the shore; then, Avhcn all is ready,
about sixty women aud girls and ton
men sot to work, some to carry
baskets full of oranges, others to
hand the baskets from boside the
paddle-box to the upper deck, others
to pass the baskets on from this point
to tho corral or enclosmrj, pilot-house, that and has
v U....I ouiiind the
other slid to pass down the empty
baskets. The carrying is all done by
women, who form a procession pass¬
ing continuously up and down the
gangAvay, and generally at a
run. They are Paraguayans, Gua-
ranis, and other Indians and mnlattoos
of various shades, clad in Avliite, rose,
scarlet, yellow and other bright-colored
Manchester cotton stuffs; alt are bare¬
footed, but gay and ready to laugh
and scream Avithout pretext, merely
for the sake of being lively and mak¬
ing a noise. They are like birds and
monkeys. Hour after hour this op-
eration goes on. AVomen and young
girls alike have cigars in their mouths
in tiie usual Paraguayan fashion. The
rapid movement of briglitly-clad fig-
u res passing in opposite direc-
tions Avilli tiie glare of the
yclloAV mountains of oranges and
of the dazzing white tent on
the shore, ends by hypnotizing one,
and yet the scene is so original that
one continues to Avatcli it in
self. For that matter, tlicro is
else to do. The village,
iu orange trees, is soon visited;
Avalk for any distance along the
river is rendered difficult by the over-
hanging trees, and so one remains
leaning over tho rail, and Avatching
the women and girls toiling, while the
men—husbands, fathers or brothers—
loaf on tho shore, smoke and play
cards, aceord’ng to tho custom of
Paraguay, where tho women do the
work Avliilc tho men enjoy life. The
steamer Avas supposed to take 250,000
oranges; but there being no
means of control, it is probable,
that, in order to alloAV for loss, the
shipper put on board at least 300,000.
These oranges, of fine flavor and as¬
pect, arc AVorth one Paraguayan dollar
at San Antonia. Hie
women, Avho carry the baskets on their
heads, aro paid eighty centavos a day,
and tho harvest of the fruit lasts eight
months, beginning at the cud of May.
Tiie freight from Paraguay to Catn-
pana, and from Campana by schooner
to La Boca, together with the loss
from putrefaction and rough handling
during the journey, brings the retail
price of a good orange in Buenos
Ayres to about tAVO cents.—[Harper’s
Magazine.
Where Flesh Turns to Stone.
The character of tiie soil in and
around Rapid City, fjou’h Dakota, has
a peculiar and marvelous property; a
wonderful characteristic Avhich com¬
pletely controverts the Biblical injunc¬
tion, “Dust thou art and to dust thou
shait return.” For the last fifty years
the “Bad Land,” lying seventy-five
miles to the southeast of the little eity
above mentioned, lias been the won-
i- rland of America, it being a locality
unequalled in the Avofld as a recep¬
tacle for petrcfactious of animals of
both the land and water kind. But
tho wondors of tho “Bad Lands” nrd
equalled in ono respect at least, by the
minoral-saturated soil at Rapid City.
True, potrofactions of remoto geologi¬
cal agos are not found in sucli profu¬
sion in Rapid City as they aro
further south, but, what is
equally as wonderful, human bodies
which liavo reposed but a short time
in tho soil of thoso South Dakotean
hills aro transformed into statues of
stone as hard as tho hardest marble. But
few of those Inst resting places have
been disturbed, and these only when
friends thought it absolutely necessa¬
ry; however, in each case tho same
peculiarity was exhibited. AVhon the
new cemetery was located at Rapid
City the remains of the little son of
Eugene Holcomb were disinterred for
removal; tills, 1 bolievo, was tho first
caso of actual human petrifaction ob¬
served iu the hills. Later on, dozens
were found to have been trails formed
into solid rock, which plainly pre¬
served every feature, even to the deli¬
cate tracing of tho veins in tho tem¬
ples, wrists and hands. At Doadwoqd
the remains of that famous frontiers¬
man, AVild Bill, were also found to bo
petrified. These things may sound
strange and unlikely to readers of tho
Republic, especially to those residing
in Hie East, but in the Black Hills re¬
gion it is an open secret that not ono
corpse in a dozen “turns to dust"—
[St. Eonis Republic.
Him to Eat Radishes.
Not everybody knows bow to eat
radishes—yet everybody thinks that a
very impudent tiling to say. AVash
them, peel them,cut otl'llio green tops,
lay them to soak in salt and water?
Nothing of the sort. Radishes aro a
delicious little vegetable, be they the
globular or tiie long roots. A story is
told by tho elder Dumas which is
AVorth repeating Avith reference to
those wholesome and nutritious little
dainties—for, common though they
may be, they arc decidedly dainty. It
was at a big dinner ghen at Lyons,
I.’i-onnl principal which DumaS V. ')0 On i/iig being of
tho
handed tho radishes tho great
novelist seemed of a sudden to be be¬
side himself with rage,and so terrified
tiie poor garcon that ho didn’t ktiOAV
Avhat to do. Presently, however, tho
great man’s anger subsided, atiJ then
with a graceful apology lie explained
the cause thereof. Tiie radishes had
been scraped or peeled and all the de¬
licious green leaves had been cut off.
These, M. Dumas declared, Avere the
Avholesomest portions of the radish
and Avere required to assist in the di¬
gestion of the rest of the root. There¬
fore, mesamis, always leave a feAV of
i he tiny, SAveet young shoots at tiie top
of your radishes, and if the radishes
are j’oung you need only pick oil tho
outside yclloAV leaves. Believe me,
you Avill not regret it. By the Avay,
did you ever try a ilisli of boiled rad¬
ish tops? Try it.—[N cav York Re¬
corder.
“Sleepy Grass.”
A curious variety of grass known
as “sleepy grass” has been found in
Now Mexico, Texas, Colorado and
some parts of Soutii Dakota. Its pe¬
culiarity consists in its power to in¬
duce sleep in horses and cattle. It
begins to take effect very soon after it
;s eaten, and tiie condition of sleep
continues from twenty-four liouvs to
seven days, according to the quantity
eaten. No evil effects folloAv tiie
sleep, but cowboys and ranchmen
very much dread its appearance among
the herds, as it is almost impossible to
keep the animals moving while in this
condition, and the entire herd is often
delayed until the sleep is over, A
horse or coav never touches the grass
the second time. The narcotic juice
is found only in the fresh blades of
the grass. The botanical name of this
curious growth is Stipa Vividula, var¬
iety robusta, and no other variety of
this species is knoAvn to possess tho
same properties.—[The Ledger.
Dug Up an Ancient Sword.
Henry Wagner, an old German
gardener, was digging in his garden
the other day, at Dubuque, Iowa,when
lie turned up what proved to be a his¬
torical relic of great value. It was
the rust-iucrusted blade ot an ancient
sword. When the ernst had been re¬
moved on one side near tho hilt could
be made out a beautifully engraved
scroll, inclosing the date, 185o. Im¬
mediately above it is the figure of a
crouching hound, and still higher up a
mailed arm aud hand grasping a
drawn SAVord.
On the other side is engraved what
looks like a papal mitre and a stand of
arms, with crossed sword* and Jances.
Tiie whole is covered with engraving,
and seems to be of the finest Damascus
steel. The sword is thought to be a
relic of the French explorers, avIio
first visited the valley of the Missis-
sippi.— [Commercial Advertiser.
The Antiquity of Fishing.
Probably no branch of industry can
lay claim to greater antiquity than
that of fishing. Its origin would seem
to be cooval with the earliest efforts ol
human ingenuity, for Hie oldest monu¬
ments of antiquity show tho fisherman
in full possession of tho implements
of his calling, and even thoso tribes of
savages which have learned neither to
keep Hocks nor to till the fields arc
skilled iu the fabrication of the book,
tho fish spear and the not. Tho earli¬
est civilization of tho eastern Mediter¬
ranean was begun with fishing. Sidon,
which means “tho fishery,” was orig¬
inally a fishing village, and its enter¬
prising inhabitants Ucvotod their at¬
tention mainly to tho collection of a
certain kind of mollusks, front which
they prepared the famous Tyrian
purple, prized more highly for (ho
richness and variety of its lines than
any other dye known lo Hie ancients.
Certain hieroglyphs on ancient
Egyptian monuments seem to indi¬
cate that tile people who erected Ihoso
memorials employed comoranis lo
Caleb fish for them, as tho Chinese do
at this day. In the same manner it is
known that tho old Egyptians found
in the snaring of crocodiles a favorite
occupation. Men in flat-bottomed
boats covered with palm leaves se¬
duced the nnluckly reptiles into shal¬
low water and speared them there.
The art of drying and curing fish,
not discovered in Europo until tho
fourteenth century, was known of
old in tho land of Pharaohs, and pic¬
tures arc still extant representing (ho
various stages of tho process and
showing among other things how tho
big fish were cut iu piocos before
being desiccated.
But perhaps Hie funniest thing to
bo told respecting tho antiquity of
fishing relates to the holy Avars which
were waged in ancient Egypt over (lie
tinny denizens of tho Avntcr, the con¬
flicts arising from Hie circumstance
that, ns often happened, one tribe
would insist Avitli the utmost irrover-
the inhabitants of an adjoining tern-
tory held in divine adoration.
The child of today, iu learning liis
alphabet, calls tho letters by their
names simply because tho ancient
Phoenicians were pleased to make sim¬
ilar figures the symbols of certain
sounds, and it is thought very likely
that tho Phoenicians have been driven
to invent that alphabet by the neces¬
sity of corresponding with peoples of
various tongues incidentally to tho
great commerce which irroAV out of the
fishery.—[AVashington Star.
Tests of Maple Sugar and Sirup.
In selecting a cake of maple sugar
to cat shun tiie small, square, hard
bricks that look as though they Avere
composed of coarso sand and pounded
glass, anil choose from Hie larger
cakes that liavo a fine smooth grain
and a delicate golden-brown tint. To
be fresh and pure it should cut almost
as easy as cheese, and melt in your
mouth without leaving any unpleasant
gritty taste. Some people have an idea
that the dark,wot, soggy cakes arc tiie
purest and more like tho old-fashioned
sugar made by their fathers. This is
not so. It is not natural for maple
sugar to ho black any more
than for it to be white, and
Avhilo tho dark sugar sIioavs tho
presence of dirt and leaves and
smoke from the boiling place, and the
addition of tho cheapest cane sugar, so
the almost Avliite, glistening, coarse -
grained maple sugar bIioavs that it Avas
made by melting over some of tho last
year’s slock and adding to it the com¬
mon coffee sugar of tho store.
Maple sirup, to ba pure and just
right to eat, should Aveigli about eleven
and one-half pounds to tho gallon.
When poured out into a glass it should
be clear aud ambor-liucd, Avitliout con¬
taining dark streaks. If after it bus
stood in the dish a few hours a dark
sediment is found in the bottom it is
not pure maple sirup, even though the
man avIio made it should cut down the
tree from which he claimed the sap
was made and haul it to your door in
proof of his claim.—[Chicago Ncavs.
A New Dyeing Industry.
A new industry in the lino of dyes
is becoming of considerable import¬
ance. LoAver California lias long been
noted for the variety of dyes Avliich it
produces, such as orchilla Aveed, etc.,
but tiie torote-treo bark, recently dis¬
covered, lias come into great demand,
and several large shiploads have been
exported to Europe. As yet there
seems to be but little demand for the
article in the United States, although
It is cheaper than oichilia and other
dye*, producing in its natural stato a
dark red color, which is quite indcli-
ble. It is now collected and sold in
this market at. tiie price of $1 to $1.50
per 100 pounds, aud the supply seems
to be enormous.— [Boston Transcript.
ClIILDUGN’H COLUMN.
-A
I used A jolly io sailor say, “When I 00111(1 will bej I'm TO SEA. a man, 4 m
I'll have my own boat, If I can, m
And At often least I to know Papa I’ll I cried, go to sea.” a
Playing at ship with plank or pail,
“If tills were but the ocean wide,
0 how I'd sail and sail and saill"
Hut now no more of boats for mol
Pve had another better plan
Since Papa let me go to sea
With Hen, the big, brown sailor-man.
At first I thought it very nice;
You should have heard me laugh and
shout;
Hut when we tipped so once or twice
I felt alkturnlng inside out.
Pd rather lie our nursemaid, Ann,
Who lias to hear the baby bawl,
Thau be a wretched sailor-man,
And have no Inside left at all.
— [New York Independent,
A SPECKLED BEAUTY.
The bright-Hcalod, carmine-speckled,
active trout is found in rapid and
clear-running streams, but cares not
for the open and shallow parts of tho
river, preferring tho sliolter of some
stone or hole in (ho bank, whonco it
may watch for prey. When it lias
grown tip in imtivo wildness it is shy
and not easily caught. It eyes tho do-
ceplivo fly suspiciously, glidos in and
out amid the dancing decoys, mid only
after much consideration does it snap
at the deftly-covered hook, which
provos to ho its ruin. It is a fish pleas¬
ant to look upon, glittering and gloam¬
ing as though adorned with many
precious gems, and fully doRorves to
ho called “a spccklod boauty.”—[De¬
troit Free Press.
THE WISE PARROT.
The crows one spring began to pull
up a farmer’s young corn, which ho
determined to prevent. He loaded
his gun and prepared to give them a
warm reception. The farmer had a
sociable parrot, which, discovering tho
crows pulling up the com, flew over
WUleii'W'in/^;" 0 «U T lfftu too
parrot, lie fired among them and
hastened to see what execution ho had
done. Tlicro lay three dead crows
and his pot parrot with ruffled rent),or*
and a broken leg. When the bird was
taken homo tiie children asked;
“What did it, papa? Who hurt onr
pretty Poll?”
“Had company I had company I” an¬
swered Hi® vmrrot in a solemn voice.
“Ay I that it was,” said the farmer.
“Poll was witli those wicked crows
when I fired, and received a shot in¬
tended for them. Remember tho par¬
rot’s fate, cliildron. Beware of bad
company."
With these words the farmer turned
round, and, wiili tho aid of his wife,
bandaged tho broken leg, and in a few
weeks Hie parrot was as lively as ever.
But it never forgot its adventure in
the corn field, and if ever Hie fanner’s
children engaged in play with quarrel¬
some companions, it invariably dis¬
persed them witli tho cry, “Bad com¬
pany! had company !”—[The Church.
A TENDER-HEARTED KINO.
The King of Italy did something
(lie other day that will make tho peo¬
ple love him even more than they have
done.
Tlicro was a great explosion of gun¬
powder in Rome, shattering blocks of
buildings, killing many people and de¬
stroying flue works of art. Tho ter¬
rible noise frightened tho people so
that they flew half-dressed into tho
streets and wept and shrieked in ter¬
ror. But the king, who was just get¬
ting tip, never waited for nows to bo
brought him, hut seized his hat and
coat, jumped into a cab and drove to
the scene of the disaster.
There lie worked with his own
hands at tho risk of his life for hours,
fearing away pieces of timber and
helping to pull down dangerous walls,
and all that lie might rescue tho men
and women buried there.
When it was over he went into the
hospitals to help with such a black
face from Hie powder, and such torn,
ragged clothes from his work and
such a banged old broken hat that he
looked no more like a king than a
tramp in the country.
And yet I think ho was twice tho
king that day.
It takes all sorts of ways to make
people good, as children put it.
It has been so hard to touch tho
heart of the Czar of Russia about the
prisoners in Siberia, though all the
nations of the world have been talk¬
ing about it. His eldest son was
nearly killed in Japan the other day,
and now, when oli his way home: this
son passes through Siberia, the Czar
decides to have the prisoners’ bnrdeus
lightened as a tribute to the Prince.
So sometimes people’s sorrows,
even those of kings, are best. — [New
York World.
NO. 32.
<,r ^he Sleeping Set.)
F»r away ship* are nailing—|
For, ami faint anil dim—
Olenins of white, or glints of light,
On the vague horizon’s rim.
Ami the ocean only varied
Where the breakers cry
Front the strand of gleaming sand,
Stretches level to the sky.
Cloudless azure heavens bending
O’er the sleeping sea—
Pulsing heat about her feet—
Where enn peril he?
Can it be that tempests gather,
* .Strong winds lash the deep?
Tossed in pain the tall ships strain,
Sladdencd billows shoreward leap?
Trust the lion, trust the serpent
When he sleeping lies,
Trust thy hands to flaming brands— "•
Trust not licklo seas and skies.
— [Overland Monthly.
mwoKoirs.
The worst all-around striker is the
borrower.
“Smitliors says you’t'o not his
equal,” “He’s a lying; sneak. I am.’'
Tho lawyers are a great help to the
railroads, beeuuso they expross eo
many opinions.
Bometimos it’s the hardest kind of
work to got tho strapping big follow
to buoklo down to work.
AVhen they begin selling eggs by
weight the gooso will tako Iter proper
place in poultry yard circles.
It is sometimes easier for a man to
complete a round of pleasure than it is
for him to make tilings squaro after¬
wards.
Tho good die r»«ng. tho others
become oldest inhabitants and v y
their R,> '
about tho weather, ngoa
everything elso.
“My daughter, did Join* propose
1 ^’ but 1
Inst night?’’ “No, mo'^ engagement
thought I detected <■* good
ring iu bis voice as ,j hade mo
night.” that the
Mr. Asker- ^>«>y toll mo
bookkeeper °f Y oar ® l-m 13 behind in
Iiisnccoui'ts; istlmtso? Mr.Taskor
— >i • he came out ahoaa. It i
the company that’s beluiiQ. b<
“Say, father, 1 have just bought a
new house on the installment plan.
Yon have to pay $10 a month.” “Have
you pain me nrsi liuuuiimont 7 - 0 +?“
“No. That’s what I wanted to BO O yon
about.”
First Clerk—I’ve had this offico coat
four years. Second Clerk—You don’t
say sol Why, it looks as good as
new. How do you account for it last-
ing so long? First Clerk—I don’t
know, unless it’s because I never wear
it UnL
Young Lady (out yachting)—What
is tho matter, Captain Quarterdeck?
Captain—TIio fact is, my dear young
lady, we’vo broken our rudder-
Young Lady—I wouldn’t worry aboul
that. Tlio ruddor is mostly under
water anyway, you know, aud it isn’t
likely people will notice it.
Milk of the Bullet Tree.
Batata, or chicle gum, affords a sin¬
gular instance of the way in which as
a natural product becomes scarce, a
substitute for it, perhaps previously
hut little known, will suddenly be
brought into use. The threatened
failure in the supply of gutta petcha
lias caused considerable anxiety among
the manufacturers of goods in which
it is employed, and they are now turn¬
ing their attention to balatu as a sub¬
stance that will meet many of the re-
quiromonts of their trade. Balata is
the solidified milk of tho bullet tree,
one of Hie most striking objects in a
AVest Indian forest, or on tho hanks of
North American rivers. Balata col-
)r cling is a paying trade, although tho
life of the collector is a hard one. Tho
ground lie travor-es is ofton wet and
swampy. In many cases ho lias to
wade long distances knee deep ill
water, which may at any moment
be up to his armpits. AVhen the
collecting ground is not far distaut,
women accompany tho men, and cook
or assist in laying out tho calabashes
and collecting the milk, while the men
foil and ring the trees. The collectors
sell the milk to tho agent, and never
dry it themselves. The price for pure
milk is a dollar a gallon, and for clean
well-dried balata twenty-five cents a
pound. With fair weather a man can
earn from $4 to $5 a day during the
season, and an industrious and expert
collector has been known to make $20
in three days. The milk is dried by
being exposed to the air in shallow
wooden trays, the insides of which are
previously rubbed with oil, soap or
grease, *o as to prevent the balata
sticking. This product commands a
higher price than gutta percha, to
which it is in many respects superior.
In point of fact it has boen tho prac¬
tice among manufacturers to treat it
as a better class of gutta percha, and
its name lia3 consequently iuever been
prominent.—[Commercial Advertiser.