Newspaper Page Text
VOL. II.
Unconquered.
Deem not, O Pnlu, that thou shalt vanquish
me,
Who know each treacherous pang, each
last device
Whereby thou barx’st the soul from Para¬
dise 1
At least, who suffers constantly
Thy joyless fellowship, may gain
The lessons—only taught by I’ain,
And know, tho’ broken, that his will
Subdues thee still!
M mi was not born the slave of things like
thee
Aad thy companion, Death: the livelong
day
He valiant strives, and holds you still at
bay;
,\nd when he can no longer see
For thiek'ning shadows—faint and spent,
He bears his standard to his tent
And yields ye seeming victory;
But—he is free!
— [Floronee Coates, in Independent.
THE STUFFED BANKER
A STORY FROM RUSSIAN HISTORY.
The Russian officials in the time of
Catherine II., or before or since her
day, for that matter, were never par¬
ticular or exact in their orders, even
when it concerned the hanging of a
man or the knouting of a serf. Even
foreigners were exposed to the com¬
bined zeal and stupidity of these gen¬
try.
A rich English capitalist, Sunder¬
land by name, residing in St. Peters¬
burg, enjoyed tho friendship of the
empress in cons -queucc of his having
given her an Italian greyhound, of
which she was very fond.
One morning lie was awakened
early by his valet, who said to him:
“Sir, your house is surrounded by
soldiers; and the chief of poiico in¬
sists on speaking with you.”
“What can lie want of me?” ex¬
claimed the banker, jumping out of
bed, and in a panic already over an
announcement which iu Russia gener¬
ally lias a terrible significance,
i “I do not know, sir,” replied the
attendant, “but it seems to be an affair
of the greatest importance, and which,
according to him, can be communica¬
ted only to yourself.”
“Let him-come in,” said tlie banker,
on bis clothes,
i The valet went out and came back
in a few minutes afterward conduct¬
ing the chief of police. A single
glance at his face convinced the banker
that ho was the bearer of some very
serious information. Tlie English¬
man did not, however, abate in the
slightest degreo his usual urbanity in
bis welcome of the official; offered
him a chair and begged him to be
seated. But his visitor declined it
with (hanks by a shake of his head,
stood upright, and, iu as sympathetic
a tone as he knew how to assume, ad¬
dressed the banker:
“Mr. Sunderland, you may well
licitvc that I am distressed beyond
telling at having been selected by her
most gracious majesty to carry out a
decree whose severity afflicts me. but
which, without doubt has been pro¬
voked by some great crime.”
“What great crime? Who has com¬
mitted it ?” cried the banker.
“You, undoubtedly, sir, since it is
to you that the punishment is com-
ing.”
“Sir, I swear, that I have in vain
scrutinized my conscience, and I can
find nothing with which to reproach
myself toward our sovereign, for you
know that I am a Russian by natural¬
ization.”
“It is just because you are a natural¬
ized Russian that your position is so
terrible. If you wore a subject of his
Britannic majesty you could call on
the English consul for protection, and
so, perhaps, escape the vigor of the
orders 1 am charged with enforcing.”
“What then, your excellency, aro
your orders?”
“Oh, sir, I have scarcely strength to
tell you.”
“Have I then lost the esteem and
favor of her majesty?”
“Oh, if it were only no worse than
that I”
“What do you mean? Are they
talking of sending ««e to England?”
“If it were onfv that do you sup¬
pose I would hesitate so long about
telling you?’4
“Great God! You alarm me. It is
surely not exile to Siberia?”
“Siberia, sir, is a delightful coun¬
try, which has been greatly misrepro
sealed. Besides people cotne back
from there.”
“Am I, then condemned to
prison ?”
“Prison is nothing. One can leave
a prison.”
“Sir, sir!” cried Hie banker, more
and more terrified. “Am I destined
to tlie horrible knout?”
“Tlie knout is a very painful pun¬
ishment, but (lie knout does not
kill.”
“By tlie Divine goodness!”
the pauic-slrickeq Sunderland, “ it
death then?”
THE ENTERPRISE. f
“Ami such a death! ” said the chief
of police raising his eyos with an ex¬
pression of profound compassion.
“Such a death!” echoed the English¬
man. “ It is not cuougii that I am to
be killed without trial, assassinated
Avilhout cause? Has sho ordered any¬
thing more?”
“Alas! yes. She lias ordered-”
“Well; speak on sir. What has she
ordered? I am a man of courage. Tell
me !”
“Alas! sir, sho ordered—if she had
not given it to me personally I declare,
Mr. Sunderland, I never would have
believed it.”
“You put me to death a thousand
times. Como, let mo know what
orders she has given you.”
“Site has ordered me to stuff you
alive.”
The poor banker uttered a cry of
distress, then looking the chief of
police squarely in the face, ho said:
“But, your excellency, this is mons¬
trous. Have you lost your reason?”
“No, sir, not at all, but I shall go
crazy during the operation.”
“But how could you take such an
order? You have told me a hundred
times that you were my friend, I
have had the good fortune of being of
some service to you. How, then,
could you take such an order without
trying to make her majesty compre¬
hend its utter barbarity?”
“I did what I could. No one in
my place would have dared do as
much. I begged her majesty to give
up her project or at least commission
somebody besides me to carry
it out. I did so with tears in
iny eyes. But her majesty answered
in that tone, which, as you know, ad¬
mits of no reply: ‘Go, sir! do not for¬
get your duty, aud fulfill, without
murmuring, tlie commissions I charge
you with. y yy
“And then?”
“And then,” continued the chief of
police, “I visited immediately a very
skillful naturalist, who stuffed tlie
birds for tlie Academy of Sciences;
for, siuce the tiling must be done, 1
thought it onglit to be done in tlie
highest style of the art.”
“And did tbc wretch consent?”
“On account of the closo resem¬
blance between tlio human and the
monkey species, lie sent me liis broth¬
er, who lias stuffed apos.”
“Well!”
“Well, ho is waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me! Is it to be done
at once?”
“At once. Her majesty will permit
no delay.”
“Not even to give mo time to put
my affairs in order. This is impossi¬
ble.”
“It is so, sir.”
“But you will give me time enough
to send a note to the empress.”
“I am afraid I ought not to.”
“Listen ! This is a last favor—one
that is not refused of the worst crimi¬
nal—I beg of you.”
“I risk ir.y situation.”
“But my life is at stake.”
“Well, write it! I will permit it.
At tlio same time I must warn you
that I cannot leave you for a single
instant.”
“Thanks, thanks! Only have one
of your officers cotne to take the
letter.”
The chief of police called a lieuten¬
ant of her majesty’s guards, handed
him the note and bade him bring back
tho reply with all possible haste. In
ten minutes tlio lieutenant returned
with an order to bring tlie banker to
the imperial palace. This was all lie
wanted.
A carriage was waiting at tlio door.
Sunderland entered it, tho lieutenant
taking a place by liis side, In five
minutes they were at tho Hermitage,
where she was waiting for them. The
condemned man was taken into her
presence. He found he almost burst-
jug with laughter. Sunderland thought
she must bo crazy, but, throwing him¬
self at her feet and seizing her hand,
he exclaimed :
“Pardon, your majesty. In Heaven’s
name, pardon me, or at least tell mo
for what crime havo I deserved this
horrible punishment?”
“My dear Sunderland,” said (lie
empress, “you are not concerned in
this affair at all.”
“How, your majesty! I am not in¬
terested iu it? Who, then, is?”
“Tho dog you gave me, aud whicli
I named after you, died yesterday of
indigestion. My grief was so great
that I wanted at least to preservo liis
skin. So I told that fool of a chief of
police: ‘Have Sunderland stuffed.’
He hesitated, and I thought ho was
ashamed of the affair. I got angry
and lie went away.”
“Well, your majesty, you can boast
of having iu him a faithful servant;
but next time 1 beg of you to make
your orders to him very much clearer.”
As a matter of fact, if Hie police
had not been Influenced
CARNBSVILLB, GA., FRIDAY, AUGUST 21,1891. 1
by tlio banker’s appeals, poor Sunflor-
Jnml would have been stuffed alivo.—
[Detroit Free Pres*.
Quickly Earned Wealth.
John 1). Hockofollei'ii worth !?12f>,-
000,000 MHl Jay Gould $100,000,000.
Now, let's see how much the sons ot
our great millionaires will be wortli
in, say, fifty years. Goorgo Gould
will, in all probability, got tlio bulk of
his father’s wealth. Say Jay Gould
don’t dio for fivo roars lnoro, lie will
then bo worth fully $150,000,000 if
his fortune rolls up as rapidly as it is
doing row. If Gcotgo Gould can
manage to control and iucrcaso his
father’s millions, I have figured out
that in forty years ito will bo worth a
biiiiou of dollars. John L). Rockefel¬
ler’s heir, if his $125,000,000 goes to
him iu a lump,will bo worth nearly two
biiiiou dollars in fifty years. The
Roekcfellcr millions have accumulated
very rapidly. Most of the great for¬
tunes have rolled npin one generation,
but tlio Rockefeller fortune 1ms been
made in less time. Allowing for an
increase as rapid 113 in the past, aud
large rates of interest, I am pretty
sure that the two billion dollar esti¬
mate will be correct. Well, ’William
Waldorf Astor now has a fortune of
$125,000,000. Ho will get at least seven
per cent, on the estate, and will, in all
probability, live for twenty-ftvo years
more. Now, the son, Joint Jacob
Astor, will then be about forty-fivo
years old. Making computations at
the rate of seven per cent, and com¬
pounding the interest semi-annually
to allow for reinvestment tlio Astor
millions in twenty-five years would
roll up to $098,012,500. Tnon in
twenty-five years John Jacob Astor
could become a billionaire and have a
few millions to spare. Tito chances
arc that nearly all the great fortunes
will be augmented every year far
yond their natural increase.
ments by tiicse men of millions
constantly being made that earn
hundred per cent, a year, and
are some no doubt that earn
percentages all the way up to five
dred or even one thousand.— [New
York
What Can lie Made of Milk.
“The first food of man” has been
put to many uses and converted into
many forms by human ingenuity, says
the London Dairyman, but its latest
application is perhaps the most re¬
markable.
An inventor lias just taken out a
patent to protect a substitute for bone
or celluloid, and tho material which is
to take the place of these substances is
produced from milk, Casein—tlie
albuminoid substance in milk—is in
the first place reduced to a partly
gelatinous condition by means of borax
or ammonia, nnd then it is mixed with
mineral salt dissolved in acid or w ater,
which liquid is subsequently evaporat-
cd.
The resulting product is called “lac-
tites,” and can be molded into any de¬
sired form.
By the admixture of pigments or
dyes, any color may be imparted to it,
but the creamy-white color natural to
the substance is most beautiful, being
a very close imitation of ivory. Combs,
billiard balls, brush backs, knife
handles and all otbo^ articles for
which ivory, bone or celluloid are em¬
ployed, can bo made of this new
product of milk.
A company, under tlio designation
of “Lactile” (Limited), has com¬
menced (he manufacture of this milk
in Cheshire.
A Steeple Climber’s Feat.
The great illuminated cross which
for eighteen years capped the steeple
of St. -Stephen’s Catholic Church,
Hicks street, Brooklyn, lias been re¬
moved. The cross was six feet high
and weighed cfght hundred pounds-
The difficult task of removing was
performed by Charles J. Kent, a
steeple climber Tho cross was fixed
320 feet above tlie sidewalk. The as¬
cent was a perilous one. Kent went
up 200 fact of the distance inside of
tlie steeple and then got outside and
climbed to the top by way of tho
lightning rod. A great crowd watched
him and everybody felt relieved when
he got down safely. The cross used
So be lit up at night and could be seen
sixty miles from Sandy Hook. Navi¬
gators complained tiiat it interfered
with them and the pastor of the church
discontinued the illumination.—[New
York Press.
One Reasou.
A boy was asked which was the
greater evil, hurting another’s feel¬
ings or liis finger.
“The feelings,” he said.
“Right, my dear child,” said the
gratified questioner. “But why is it
worse to hurt the feelings?”
“Because yoq can’t tie n rag around
tfeem.”
TUB HACK STREET.
Peculiarities of Seventh Avenue
in New York.
It Is One of the Queerest of
Metropolitan ThorouRhfares.
1 imagine that if a small man from
a small town wore to move with his
family into New York ho would grav¬
itate to Seventh avenue and start a
grocery. Indeed, it must bo (hat such
persons, of moderate prosperity and
of much caution, coming in the past
from other countries and from other
parts of this country, liavo segregated
in Seventh avenue ns small grocers or
petty dealers of one kind or another;
for Seventh avenue, crowded with
little shops from its beginning in tho
slums almost to Fifty-ninth street is a
scries of neighborhoods, each preg¬
nant with gossip and tittle-tattle, each
dotted with doorway hobnobbings.
I went into a dozen or more shops
there the other day. As I opened
each door, a bell rang in tlio hack of
each house. This sometimes brought
the proprietor to view, but more often
caused a child to dart from somowhoro
back to the sidewalk, and call in a
grown person from a chattoring or
argumentative group. Once I could
rouso nobody at all, and after I had
rapped loudly upon a sliow-caso several
times, the man who kept the shop next
door came in. lie said tlio proprietor
had gone to get a drink, and had asked
him to watch (he store. “I don’t know
tlio price of anything,” Ito added,
“but if you do, ] might soil it to you.
I guess it would bo all right.” If I
had not heard the reminding rumble
of an elevated train, I should have for¬
gotten that it was New York.
Tho shop-keepers all liavo their
families at hand, and generally sev¬
eral other families also, for Sevonlh
avenue is almost a tenemeut-houso
street. It is probable that it does most
of the cobbling for the west side. The
cobblers and their families live in the
basements, and you descend to them,
guided by signs at tho head of the
basement stairs. Business is so leis¬
urely that you find the cobbler asleep,
and the baby whittling his bench witli
a rIioo knife.
Tlio dealers in second-hand clothing
arc as numerous ns tlio grocers. They
are hidden in behind a curtain of
“pants” hung across tho door. They
are sharp at a bargain, but see in to
expect less prices titan such dealers in
other parts of tho city. Second-hand
clothing- shops everywhere have
a deserted air; here they seem thor¬
oughly at home.
You can get good groceries cheap
in Seventh avenue, cheaper than any¬
where else in the city. So you are not
surprised to find in the sido streets
just off the avenue many boarding¬
houses where lodging and meals of a
respectable but far from luxurious
kind are to be had at very low rates.
And in these hoarding-houses you find
the best class of people to whom
Seventh avenuo is tlio oullot. Here
are clerks and shop-girls,who arc hon¬
est, and set great store hy their re¬
spectability. They liavo little money
to spend; they are not ambitions;
they wear “Sunday clothcB,” and
looked drowsed up. Those who feel
called upon to be tough find it pos¬
sible to do it cheaply and noisily in
the Seventh avemfo saloons. There
are back roojns for women, where
“gents” are not allowed unaccom¬
panied by ladies, and where they may
not smoke.
But the chief life of Seventh ave¬
nue—especially in warm weather—
comes from the colored people. They
used to promenade in Sixth avenue,
which still bears a name reminiscent
of that time, bnt now they have de¬
serted Sixth avenue, and make Seventh
avenue gay on summer evenings with
their loud laughter and good-natured
remarks. They arc the chief patrons
of the second-hand shops, as tho loud
patterns of tho curtains of “pants’’
plainly show. You may see some
curious costumes on the streets as tlio
result of this patronage.
Seventh avenue iroes to bed early—•
earlier than any oilier part of (lie city.
After 10 o’clock the policeman has
rather a solitary time of it, except
when (lie tough clerks are out harm¬
lessly proclaiming their devilisitness.
And yet Seventh avenue has boon the
scene of many mui dors. This is due
to the early quiet of it, making it a
good place for robbery with the aid of
the knife and the sand-bag.
There were once many dangerous
saloons here, and also some notorious
concert lmlls, hut only a few of them
remain, and tho police do not allow
them to disturb tho early-slumbering
inhabitants. There are half-way out¬
breaks at the frequent balls givcit by
sundry “assogiatioqs” of pot over¬
savory characters, but neither the as¬
sociations nor live guests at the balls
belong to Seventh avenue.
As (lie years pass, Seventh avenue
becomes duller and duller. It seems
to bo drifting altogether out of touch
with Now York life. This is a neces¬
sary result, for Seventh avenue is tlio
only lull in tlio storm—the solitary
groat “back street.”—[Harper’s Week-
iy.
Kleptomania.
Cases of kleptomania arc generally
regarded with doubt. If the victim
of tho ailinont be poor, ho is generally
sent, to jail; if lie bo rich, no one can
understand tho motives loading to the
crime, and he is kindly put down as a
kleptomaniac. Now we have an ap¬
parently authentic instance of this in
Chicago. Iu an art institute iu that
city iu which (lie pupils are nearly all
aristocratic young ladies, they have
caught otto of tlio girls in tlio act of
stealing, and proved that sho iiad boon
carrying on a system of thefts for
months. Sho had stolon all sorts of
small articles from her fellow pupils,
including money, drawing imple¬
ments, clothing and trillos of every
description.
Tho girl has been pronounced a
kleptomaniac, and sent away, after
giving up everything she appropriated.
Her parents are rich, aud she lias
ltad everything that wealth could pro¬
cure. There was no season for lior
stealing, save a morbid disposition to¬
wards that species of crimo. This
was believed by everyone brought
into contact with her, and sho was
mercifully relieved of all responsibi¬
lity for her acts.
it would be interesting to watch
tho future career of this young lady.
If she is so badly afflicted, as is said,
should she not bo consingod to a luna¬
tic asylum? Sho is certainly unbal¬
anced, mentally, and porltaps has no
more equitable right io be at largo
than if she were tho victim of homi¬
cidal or other innuin dangerous to tho
rights of others. Tho problem is con¬
fusing from modern notions of klep¬
tomania, but it is certain that under
the old English law, from which we
derived our code, tho young woman
in question might be hanged. Now
we recognize a new sort of human
weakness without being provided
with a remedy for or proper restraint
npon it. — [Pittsburg Press.
The Mexican Swell on Horseback.
The Mexican swell rides on a saddle
worth a fortune. It is loaded with
silver trimmings, nnd hanging over it
is an expensive scrape or Spanish
blanket, which adds to tho magnifi¬
cence of tlie whole. Ilis queer-shaped
stirrups aro redolent of tlie old mines.
Ilis bridle is in like manner adorned
with metal in the shape of half a doz¬
en big silver plates, and to liis bit is
attached a pair of knotted red-cord
reins, wlncli he holds high up and
loose. He is dressed in a black vel¬
vet jacket fringed nnd embroidered
with silver; and a huge and expensive
hat, perched on his head, istiltod over
one ear. Ilis legs are encased in dark
tight-fitting breeches,with silver trim¬
ming down the sido seams, but cut so
as, in summer weather, to unbutton
from the knee down and flap aside.
His spurs are silvor, big and heavy
and costly, and fitted to buckle around
liis high-cut licei. Under liis left leg
is fastened a broad-biaded and beau¬
tiful curved sword, with a hilt worthy
a prince of the blood.
The seat of this exquisite is the
perfect pattern of a clothespin. Lean¬
ing against tlio canfle, ho stretches
his legs forward and outward, with
heels depressed in a fashion which
reminds one of Sydney Smith’s say¬
ing that lie did not.objcct to a clergy¬
man riding, if only he rode very bad¬
ly and turned out liis toes. It is the
very converse of riding close to your
horse. In what it originates it is
hard to guess, unless bravado, Tlie
cowboy, with an equally short seat
and long stirrups, keeps his legs
where they belong, and if liis ieg is
out of perpendicular, it will be so to
tho rear___[Harper’s Magazine.
Qualified.
“Charley,” remarked Jones, “you
were born to be a writer.”
“All!” implied Charley, blushing
slightly at tlie compliment, “You
have seen some of the tilings I liavo
turned off.”
“No,” said Jones. “I wasn’t refer¬
ring to what you have written; I was
simply thinking what a splendid ear
you have for carrying a pen.”
Two Prison Dinners.
Prison Warden—The dinner ordered
from Dclmotiico’s has cotne. Tuko it
to tlie prisoner who killed a man.
Assistant—All right. Wlto is this
bread and water for?
Warden—That's for (lie man who
stole a ham.—[New York Weekly.
CHILDREN'S COLUMN.
TIIK HUMBI.K IIKK.
Beside the schoolroom desk I ait,
And through the window see
About the dewy elovor lilt
A happy bumble bee.
He drifts along the sunny dell,
So fragrant and so bright,
Then pops Into a flower hell,
And vanishes from sight.
I envy him while through the cool,
Deep shade he gayly hums—
Ife doesn't have to sit in school
And worry over sums.
O'or books lie never lias to bend,
In any dusty room,
But all day long may idly wend
His way from bloom to bloom.
Oh, should be see mo he’d be sad,
And for the woodland llee,
And murmur, “1 am very glad
1 am a bumble heel”
—,It. K. Munkitlriek, Independent.
A CAT MOURNS FOR A CHILD.
A strange story in which a cat is a
pathetic character lias come to light in
I’aoli, Ga. A littlo boy of that vilhigo
owned a cat that was a great pet in
the family. But tlio cat would have
nothing to do with any one except tlio
boy. Tho latter died, nnd for two
weeks the eat would come as usual
every morning to tlio door, and, go¬
ing iu Hie room, would cry mourn¬
fully and walk over tlio child’s bed
hunting for its lost friend. Finally
the cat disappeared, only returning
occasionally, At last one of the
child’s sisters saw tlio cat in tlio grave
yard, where it remains, only returning
occasionally for food. It keeps guard
at the boy’s grave, and can bo heard
at night crying pitifully.
A TRICE VILLAGE.
One of the curious features of somq
of tlio islands of tho Pacific is
the tree village. Ono of these
villages, on Isabel Island, is
built on tlie summit of a rocky moun¬
tain, rising almost perpendicularly to
the height of 800 feet.
Tho trunks of (ho trees, in tlio
branches of which tlio natives liavo
erected their houses, are perfectly
straight and their surfaces smooth,
while tho distance from tlie ground to
tlie firsrtmnTFh varios from 50 to 150
feet.
Ono of those novel abodes is at a
height of eighty feet nbovo tlio
ground, while the home of a neighbor¬
ing ono is forty feet higher. Each
house is reached by a ladder made of
some creeping vine, Which is sus¬
pended from one of tho door-posts,
and cun bo drawn up when it is de¬
sired. Each house is large enough to
contain ten or twelve persons, to¬
gether with ammunition for a long
siege.
Such lofty habitations aro only oc¬
cupied in time of war, at night or
when danger is expected. At other
times tho more convenient and acces¬
sible huts on tlio ground are pre¬
ferred.
TIIF, STORY OF A TREE.
The very dearest of old ladies told
me this:
One day, while sho was walking in
the woods, she saw two or three acorns
lying ou tlie ground, and then she
made up her mind.
She took the acorns home, put them
in a tumbler of water, so as to sec
when their roots grew, and when they
began to sprout she chose tlie best and
planted it in a pot.
It was not very long before a tiny
oak tree appeared, nor was it very
much longer before tins littlo tree out¬
grew its root.
This dear old lady lived in New
York, and not liking to bring Hie treo
hero sho wondered what she could pos¬
sibly do. All of a sudden she thought
of renting a piece of land.
8o sho begged her sister to let b?r
have a yard of garden. Perhaps sho
put down one of her largest handker¬
chiefs to measure try. I have hoard
of children doing that. At any rato
she look Die yard of land and trans¬
planted tlie tree.
Now every year she pays $5 to her
sister for tlio rent of tho land, and
every year the sister sends this $5 to
some hospital lo help make a merry
Christmas for the dear littlo children
shut away there.
And every year (lie dear old lady
goes back and sits with rejoicing under
her own oak tree, this tree that now
lias grown so big it casts its shade
everywhere. Even birds build in its
branches. And every year, too, the
children in the hospitals aro just so
much tlio happier.
All of this is all because of an old
lady who thought of this tree. And I
tell you all of it, oh, for so many rea¬
sons, to let yon know another of tlio
many ways all over the world that
people have for making others happy.
And most of all I tell you because I
hope some of you may get an idea or
a treo of yogi’ p\vm—£Ne>y York
World.
NO. 33.
A Love Song.
My love Is like the sea,
As changeful and as free;
Rome times she’s angry, sometimes rough,
Yet oft she’s smooth and calm enough—
Ay, much too calm for me.
My love Is like the sky.
As distnut and as high;
Perchance she’s fair and kind and bright,
Perchance she’s stormy—tearful quits—
Alas! I scarce know why.
For thus I’m teiupe«t-tos*’d,
A drifting skiff at most;
I dare the waves, risk cloud and rain,
l oyer tempt my fate again.
Nor enro If 1 be lost.
HUMOROUS.
Some kis«cs arc materialized pootrf.
Tlio aitnablo man doosn’t always do
tlie most work.
A happy old ago is tlio dessert of
the dinner of life.
There is one lucky tiling about
spoiled children—wc never have them
in our own family.
Somo men are born groat,some men
acliievo greatness, and somo men are
not worth a continental.
“Did you attend the obsequies of
Snip, your tailor?” “Yes, and I never
saw Snip less obsequious.”
Ho (poetically)—Alt, who con ox-
press tho power of love? Sho (prac¬
tical)—It’s two donkey power.
It puts a different fneo on things,
Although it in ay be queer
When one man travels on his cheek
And another goes on his ear.
It is tlio unloaded guns that always
goes off at unexpected moments and
wrecks things. It is different with
it is, perhaps a (rifle superfluous to
say (hat recent failures iu the shoe
trade were because of inability to foot
the hills.
SharpsoA— What makes your nose
sored? I’lilatz—It glows witli pride
because it never pokes itself into other
people’s business.
“liow much is Slipkins out on that
last transaction?” askoil ono brokor of
another. “He is out of jail,” was the
reply, “which is very lucky for him.”
Somo ono says: “Woman studies
man with regret; man studies woman
with amazement.” Tlio woman in this
case is evidently married and tho man
is not.
Miss Lucy—lias Aunt Belinda made
much progress in riding, Weblyn?
Riding Master—Well, miss, I cau’t
say as ’ow she rides wery well as yet,
but she falls hoff a deal more grace¬
fully as wot she did at fust.
“And what is the trouble?” inquired
tlio young wife of tlie physician.
“Well, 1 don’t think tlio caso is really
bad enough for a season nt tho sea-
sliorc. 1 think a cure may be effected
by the judicious application of a nice
summer hat.”
She wouldn't tell a lie for the world
To the man who was all her own.
But at least twenty times through the day
To him would this girl tcl-a-phone.
Wedded in a Tennis Court.
There have been weddings in bal¬
loons, yachts and storo windows, but
Milford Center, a small place near
Springfield, Ohio, can probably lay
claim lo the first lawn tennis wed¬
ding ever solemnized in tlio country.
For somo time Andrew Bates lias been
laying siege to tlie, heart of Miss Ber¬
tha Stokes. Both parties are the
champion tennis players for miles
around, Ono day Mr. Bates was press¬
ing Miss Stokes to name the
day for their marriage. “You may
name it yourself if you will have the
ceremony performed in the tennis
court,” said Miss Stokes. “Agreed,”
said the young man. A day or two
ago 200 guests gathered on the spa¬
cious lawns of the beautiful country
place of Asa Bales, father of the
groom. Tho bride and groom were
dressed in jaunty tennis costumes, as
were the bridesmaid and groomsman.
Tlie four finally engaged in an excit¬
ing match. Right in Hie middle of it
Rev. Mr. Wardeii of Milford Center
walked out on the lawn to Hie tennis
court amt raised liis hand. The game
was stopped and the contracting par¬
ties clasped hands, and in a few min¬
utes tlie marriage vows laid been
spoken, and Miss Stokes and Mr.
Bales were man and wife, After the
bridal kiss had been given they seized
their racquets and finished tlie game.
A splendid wedding banquet and an
old-fashioned barn dance follovved.—
[Chicago Herald.
Greatest Cold Not at the Pole.
It is a mistake to suppose that the
weather is colder the further north
one goes. The northern pole of great¬
est cold is only about three hundred
miles northeast of Yakutsk, Siberia,
where the mean annual temperature
is a little lower than in the highest
latitudes readied by Nares and Grecly,
1000 miles farther north.—[New
York Journal.