Newspaper Page Text
THE PEOPLE’S ADVOCATE,
rRAWFORDVILLF,, OA.
Among recent crimes in France
there were nine of young children
under ten killed by boys under four
teen years.
Prince Bismarck is reported to have
ssid recently t<> sonic Herman students
that “the sh« ddiug of blood was thank
less business.”
A Paris correspondent says that flic
two recent suicides committed on th*
Eiffel Tower make a total of nearly
thirty commitli d oa or at the foot of
the tower since its construction, Th.
spread of tin- suicidal contagion led lo
the closing of the Velidome Colli lull.
Each animal sent to Europe now
must be inspected and a record kept.
A tag is attached to lb ear showing its
number. If is also inspected at th#
port of arrival, In this way any in
fortiori can at once b<- discovered und
traced to its origin and combated.
In Plymouth founty, Iowa, they
have a singular rns.-. A naturalized
Englishman willed his property to his
father und committedmiiridc. His is
liitc includes about •. worth of
biml. Tin-will is being contested on
behalf of the Htuto for confiscation nn
der a law which .................. from
inheriting from , a e.twc. . of the I ...ted
Stab s. If young Uidniesley hiuln t
naturalized his father might get th#
property—otherwise, probably not.
Probably fb<! largest congregation
in tho United Slidt-H n# that of the
Church of the Most Precious Blood
(Roman Catholic), in New \oik City,
says tln> In#h«|n nd# lit. It was I 01111 <I< <I
for Italian* only » f#-w years, ami 25,
IKMl of that Nationality belong to it-i
parish. The parish of Ht. Joas-hini,
which i* also an Italian Church, lias
about ir>,oim communicants, and it is
estimated that 7NOO attend mass tln-r*<
every Holiday, there bciug six services.
Man 1* not *oli#l matter, exclaims
the New Y#»rk News. Ho is porous ns
a sponge and os luminous. It will hooii
came to pass that diseases will !>#■ treat
ed only after examination by an elec
trie illuminator. An experiment was
tried on a boy of New York City a few
days ago. An illuminator wan placed
in brnmonth. ‘ Every faeiffi vein
visible, tissue made transparent ami
even defects of the gums were made
clear to the eyes. The search-light was
n deciiled suc#’«-ss. There is more to
follow before this eeutiirv expires,
pro# licts the N#-wh.
It seems that the United Htub-s is
not tho only country that has trouble
with its tmnl fisheries. Chile has cine
Hue seal rookeries at the straits of Ma
gellan, nml bn* just heard that there
ore u lot ##f Vessels th#-re violating ln-r
laws about j»#*lagiesealing. Th«-r<* ar#'
two .Wri. au,' Hire.. Argentine ami
tour EugliaU «M-h#»*ner«, at it. and Chile
hie# ordered a couple of her war vessels
t#i go down and prevent the further
ft!nughtt>r of the st-als. F.aeh vessel is
armed with rapid llr#> gun* mii# 1 is
manned with acrcM* that will not hesi
tate t<< no#* them.
11<-ck und birds court tin- socn-ty of
man—that is. th«*y s#-#-k tin* localities
where field* an*l gardens atwMimt, for
they fare b«-tt#‘r when human mdu-dry
extorts from the s#*il tin- prinhn*t.s up
on whieh they subsist. V Maine 1 *#-•»
cult 11 rist way* it iw tin- rarest thing iu
the world to find bee* away fr#>ui the
w#'ttl#'iu»-nt* #>r fr«-ni opcnmgw where
they nr#- oftcxicwt found, und geu# rally
not far from the »-dg<- of th<- wahhIk.
It is the womb with birds. Th#«r»* ar#
no w.uig bir#lw 111 tin* northern Maine
wilderu#-w» and se-aronly anything that
can ?>#• #-h 11<-.1 bird life. Birds cluster
around towns and villages.
Aecordmg to tho correspondent of a
New York paper a number *>f Amcri
••ans t#«»k active part in the r«-eciit war
iu Honduras. Several of them, h-
way*, were given rank f.»r tln-ir ser
vices, which consisted principally in
picking #>ff th# enemy at long range
when the fire of the native troojw wa#
ineffective. For tli-w* d«a .1* of valor
theso-calli-d Ann rican-s were j«ud w>
much a victim. Very like ly. #-u,*e« #*t«
the San Francisco t’hr. i.icle. th#-w
sharpwbo# -G rs were iu# re waudet«-r»
thschinci to lv \:.-<# m an- I-# .-siiw
they knew it w.i a c<- d country t«
hail from, ami wh • w# r# in H-ndura#
tieCMOe th# J t h eight Ltmg ui*r.
profitable than w . rluuft
TxnnratCrtY i» t»-r-t*i-ar b ft. ii*?*.*"
mp-Ttaiit ftfl in L# n. iMunr .ten
tt> ar t i#wr lciAng a < <wwopoadtOt I «-#«4»
|h * foUowtef mud * f # v^* rtn<- ta
i:.# ar.- • .# tr;t ati-. ■ wturh
P*LU were grow 1 •e.. Juian it) hr
|»ioi»t*4 NM bit .nth '-u.b it* potr
•pr« tattf • ' r a • Tiff evli» cmw
-aptdiy. *'-i th' p**u.t* *#*i*. tau# I *#mm
a. February It.
common things.
OiTe me .tear Lord, Thy magic common
ttiinr*.
Which all can «•• <>, which alt may rhar • —
Sunlight and •lewdropii. gra<* an<J stars and
*ca—
Noth.ng unique or new and nothing rare.
Just dni-i<~, knaow.-ed, wind among the
thorns;
Borne clouds to cross the bins old sky
1 a'ovc;
Ham, Winter lire*, a useful hand, a heart,
The common glory of a woman’s love.
Then, when my feet no longer tread old
paths
,Keep them from fouling s-.woet things
anywhere!.
Write on* old epitaph in glace lit words:
“.Such things look fairer that he sojourned
here."
—The Spectator.
WITH MAIMED KITES.
US. CA UN EG IE’S
last word’s had
! been, “For heav
cn’s sake, Lctitia,
fjlL ilf# don’t again let to-<lay it be 1” late It
,» was luncheon, and
/ luncheon to men
l who have spent
the morning on
^ imm the moors is
’ portant. At 12.15,
therefore, just tif*
: teen minutes be
fore it was licces
Miry to start, the
WIl£ , onc ^ ( , |,y Mrs. Carnegie’s
orders, at the door, the basket, put in,
and Mrs. Carnegie in the breakfast room
worrying her sister, Mrs. Main waring,
^ bv assurances that tho girls would make
^ M U4(w)>
“Dollie was ready half an hour ago,”
gaid Mrs. Muinwariug. “I saw licr in
the hall,”
“Dolly in not going with us. I don’t
often take her m.t. It wouldn’t be fair '
J to the two others."
“But it is not lair to Dollie to leave
her so much at home. Bhe has not gone !
: out with us once since f came."
j “Don't distress yourself about Dollie;
she i* quite happy." herself so?”
“How does she make
“Oh! I don’t know. We are going to
be so late. Bbo gardens, she sketches,
she Iocs all kinds of things. 1 don’t
think she milks the cows, hut she cer
thinly feeds the chickens.”
“Oh, Lctitia!"
“Why do you say, ‘Oh, Lctitia;*
ought 1 to know whether she milks the
cows or not ?” |
“You ought to know a great deal
moru about her than you do. There is
such a thing as getting tired of garden
ing anil feeding the chickeus.”
“Yes, I know, hut that hasn’t hap
pcueil to Dollie yet, ami you see going
out is so much mote important to the
oilier girls. Just think, Evic is tweuty
nix and Agnos is only a year younger.”
Dollied*twwty-euo^
“An ago when amusement is not un
palatable.” “My dear, 1 must do
you worry me.
my duty to the cldoit—but I wish they
would come.”
“Amt white you are marrying them
Dollie will marry herself, and probably
not to your liking In a fairy talc she
would fall in love with the gardener,
who would, of course, hc the king’s son
in the ample aud effectual disguise of a
shabby coat ami cap. in real life, she
■
may perhaps give her poor little affec
tions to some photographer holiday from Glas- the
gow, who is taking a at
•Blue Bonnet.* ” !
“Oh, Cecilia! Dollie is not a girl of I
that kind. She is as good as gold ami
perfectly bumble, and she shall go
everywhere when Evie gets engaged
lias it slrtu-k you that Sir l’hilij# is in
love with Evie i I am almost certain that
In- is, ami I am #!#-liglitc<l. Oh, here tin
girls come. How charming they both
‘
look!” ,
Mrs. Mainwsrinjr, who hod so lately
seen Dollie in her plain morning «lr# -s,
balking like a sweet (lower refreshed bv
the , dews , ,.f ,, heaven, did . . not particularly .11
admire the two tailor clad gir.s who were
playing at being m the country 1 nev
were pretty but worn out am faded by
a long Lond.in season, and yet they bad
only come North to recover strength to
go through another.
They had no liking f.>r scenery unless
it were accompanied by a large amount
of human interest, ami while they tn>d
the heather pined to have the Loudon
pavement beneath their feet again and
Loi»«l#>n whops before their eye*.
“And what have you been doing this ;
afternoon, Dolhcl asked Mr*, .lam- „ .
waring at tea time. :
Dollie blushed (her aunt thought bo- )
cauv it was so unusual i#*r anyone to
take any interest in her employments). ;
an-i said, “-ketching iu the glen. aunt, j
“And you had a doll little luncheon
all alone by yourself, iu that great dm
tag-room?” working hard I ;
“No, 1 was so toot
could not spare time to come in. 1 aUr i
all the bread I liad taken with roc to rub
out with. 1 wish you would come to
the glen, aunt; it is so pretty.” idd
“Dear child, 1 a:a muc.i too to
May 1 sketch V <
scramble. sic your j
DoHu- brought it. ller mother linked [
at it, too. ami was star:!#-1 at it# ui< rit. ‘
“Whv. Doliic!” she * *c#aiuK-#l. “you
have "improved ieft-haud wonder.uliy! excellent.’* That bit
in the corner is
, . . I, • bad aom - -
“An uUik Dol»ie. YV* at do you
»tr*)cd in by • three wc o a #
when 1 w»* i .--re j vinting. 11** hi* of
tm U.vu t-» *» rw tb ft* *: #-. »’ ! wbe -•
• lit * - * 1 hr -gives me Mill] b, ,at.
He ! t*-J.-ht Hi
II* r ter s attcctl a *t#
tr-*#u ,1 % g
M*». V .
I# t. *». %
Ota that <a J*a» Sou i
She was not, however, looking at tho
sketch, but at her niece’s rosy checks.
“He gives you hints about your paint
ing, you say?” continued Mrs. Carnegie,
who bad seen nothing of this.
“Yes, mother,” replied Dollie, rising
to e^eape as quickly as she could.
“Take care that he is not teaching her
how to fall in love, said Mrs. Main war
ing.
“That child! No."
“That child! Yes? Be quick and
stop it.”
“I will—I really will. Just now it is
hard to attend to anything but Evie and
Sir Philip, but when that business is
settled Dollie shall always he with me.
Did you see how he watched Evic at
luncheon?”
“No, I thought he was rather vexed
or disappointed about something.”
“I hope not. Kvie may perhaps have
been nuking some of her stupid speeches.
But he loves her, I am sure! I am so
happy about it that 1 am not able to
think of anything else.”
“So it seems,” thought Mrs. Main
waring; so she spoke to Dollie herself
and gave her much good advice. From
Dollie she learned that the landscape
painter's name was Fleming, that he was
v ring, good-looking and clever, lived in
Edinburgh, was quite a gentleman, and
not at all the kind of man that Aunt
Cecelia seemed to imagine.
Two days aftcr-.v&rd Aunt Cecelia was
rather unexpectedly summoned home,.
but before going she again spoke to her
sister about the danger of allowing
Dollie to sit for hours sketching in the
gi<-n. Being iuformed that Dollie had
been forbidden to go there, Mrs. Mriin
wnring advised her sister to assure her
self that Dollie had understood and was
obeying tins order. This Mrs. Carnegie
did, ami then once more gave her whole
mind to Sir Philip and Evie. Why aid
hc not propose? The day of his departure
was drawing veiy near. earlier
It catnc two days than had been
anticipated, A rich old bachelor, uncle
of Sir Philip, who was then in Sundar
Dmbhirc, despatched and this telegram to
him: “Am iii, must have rest.
Have a large party here, and can get
none, Come at once and help me, or i
shall die outright. Why aio you so long
in arriving?"
Ten minutes after the telegram came
Sir Philip followed Mr. Carnegie to tho
study—a .stu ly in which no book wus
ever opened but that which ho Had gone
fetch—Bradsh Mrs. * Carnegie
to iw.
thought she knew what Sir Philip had
,,„ne to do, and tried to be patient while
she awaited tho result.
In a quarter of uii hour her husband
came and said: “My dear, I have hud
great surprise—a very great surprise—
it almost amounted to a shock."
“ What nonsense, Chariest You must
have known what was coming,”
“Why should 1? You didn’t.”
“Indeed, I did. I have known for
ten days that Sir Philip wanted to
marry Erie."
“Uut he doesn’t—it is Dollie.*
* ^
=-«* **
love with - tho young daughter no was
still Sir Philip; so, after Mrs. Carnegie
was sufficiently recovered to tit a now
heroine into the romance in which she
was so much interested, she sent out
emissaries in search of Dollie. No one
could find her, uutii at last an under
gardener, being much pressed by Mrs.
Carnegie her-elf, said, with evident re
luctance, that Miss Dollie might, per
haps, he thought, he painting in Lidy
well Wood.
To reach this wood a cornfield had to
he traversed, and just as *lrs. Carnegie
was half across it she saw Dollie in the
distance, bidding farewell to a gentle
man with a sketching bag on his back.
The unhappy lady stopped short in hor
rer. “This must,” sue thought, “l>e
that odious artist Cecelia Mainwaring
was so alraid of. How can Dollie dare
to si-#* hint, when 1 have forbidden hurl"
“Dollie,” she exclaimed, “this is
shameful! 1 have been trusting you all
this time, atul you, it seems, have been
breaking your word!”
“Oh, no, 1 have not! 1 have not been
"far the glen, a-id I have never seen Mr.
UIlt il this morning! Don’t look
tix inotUw 1 aru speaking the
^ , , wa u . xvay t0 tell you all
|f
.. lvUnu . nothing of that klndl I
want to know nothing.'
“But you must kuow, mother—you
will be forced to know. Sir. Fleming
has asked sue to marry him, and I have
said I will.”
“You have! Well, girls do stupid
things, sometimes; but the sooner you
undo this the better! ’
“Ah, vou are angry because you still
t |iink that hc and I have been deceiving
you.” said Dollie. tenderly “but, mother,
wo have not. We really have not seen
>ac ^ ot j, er s j ni . L . vou sjwke to me, until
‘
{ ) (i u am j how he ( liun .i out where 1
^ s V otchin , { lloU ’t yet know.”
.. Vu .l you never w:U. You will not
^ bjm
-Oh, luit let roc tell you how it all
k j M vrill see how different
everythin" is from what vou imagine,
Lidywcll Wood—I could
not ref us*' to say a word to him once hc
was there, could 1? Besides, 1 think hc
came on purpose to ask ms to marry
him.
*->.vy no more about that, Dollie, it
only vexes me. You inu.t have known
that you would never be flowed to do
it.
'1 thcr,” Dollie began, but her voice
failcl her
i«#*a i \ i't ca! * l raj:. U a good -irl.
, 1 .
; * re* n t* a .J write and tel! tiut
Li»‘i »!.*t r* ; ia;. ,» t.» #1, so.”
.,,v 1» ” l Mi. Cw
.» s-ce
c * .# n he and >t FfiiUp came.
«w m were A tjgw -,at«-s ago, bat
• in ttt*- sun, aid it
— .1 to
i «i{ % it y bad l*fc« 1
# * i i. 41 * 1 **** uot tot kt uakua 1 stay
till to-morrow,** tali Sir Philip, after
erpressiag * much sympathy.
“Oh, you must cot do that—yon must
cpt offend jour untie, besides. Doll.e
run y not he well enough to see you to
mo
Sir Philip sighed woefully.
“She is not seriously ill. If you will
take my advice you will go to-day, as
your u:.elc.'.vhhes^ you will stay at ile-i
• i, lie as long a? he stays—I think you
ssid he would be there a month—and
when you have done that you will do us
tic great pleasure of seeing you back
here. Don’t distress yourself about see
ing Dollie. It is much better that you
I ave not seen her. You would not have
een able to get her to say what you
wish without a great deal of persuasion
certainly not in one day—even if she had
teen well. Bhe has not the slightest idea
that you care for her, and she is very shy
and timid.”
' Sir Philip departed, and Mr. and Mrs.
Carnegie repaired to the study to write
to Mr. Fleming. Their daughter, they
said, might have been temporarily led
away by persuasion, but now saw, as
sny one with any judgment must see,
that a marriage with him was out of the
question. They enclosed a letter from
| ;r which would inform him of the true
state of her feelings, and trusted that he
would see the propriety of leaving the
neighborhood at once. write that
“But can you get her to
^.terf’ asked Mr. Carnegie.
"Oh, yes,” replied his wife, and went
to Doltie’s room, which she did not leave
until she had succeeded.
I It Two tears had fallen on Dollie’s paper
-bile she was writing. Mrs. Carnegie
ta d seen the blisters which they raised,
Kiting ■t Dollie had sullered so cruelly while
the leter, that it was impossible
■ insist on her making a clean copy. So
Itrengthened Kweut with its blisters to Fleming and
his conviction that Dollie
I 1 'as acting under coercion.
He wrote to her, but his letter was ro
J irned by Mr. Carnegie unopened, with
the words, “You have had your dismis
sal from my daughter, and you have had
it from me. I request you at once to
leave this neighborhood. Should you
persist in remaining, steps will bu taken
*o enforce this request.”
, Fleming became desperate, and being
powerless in other ways, called the wis
doin of the serpent to his aid, and wrote,
“I Hud it so hard to believe that your
daughter’s mind can have changed so
suddenly that I cutreat you to let mo see
her alone for ten minutes. If you per
mit this, and she then speaks os she has
written, I give you my word of honor as
u gentleman to accept her decisiou as
haul, and to leave this place at once.”
"What a nuisance the man is l” cx
claimed Mrs. Carnegie. “Wesliallliavc
to let him come. Sir Philip returns next
week—we can’t have this kind of thing
K oin S on then.”
So, with great reluctance, Mr. Carae
jde replied, “Since you refuse to believe
tue truth, and insist on giving inydaugh
ht ter this psin, you \p+ come will to-morrow tell
12, when sbo you
for
gent „
.
“But he is a gentleman, thought Mr3.
Carnegie, when Fleming entered the
room where she, her husband and their
two eldest daughters were assembled to
receive him. Mr. Carnegie felt Dollie’s
hand trembling on bis arm as he led her
down, arul had at last to support her lest
her feet should fail her altogether.
At the drawing room door hu kissed"
hi r and said;
“Be brave, darling, it will soon be
over. You could not have married him;
but I will own that he is better looking
than I expected.”
“Is he?” she exclaimed eagerly. “Are
you quite sure that you would never have
said yes?”
“Quite! Stick to what has been agreed
on, and let us get quietly over it."
All eyes were fixed on Dollie as she
catue in, looking pale, ill and scarcely
able to stanil. No one spoke—all
waiteil to hear the words that were about
to be said. How would that fnltciiug,
frightened girl gel through her tot
speech? They had expected that all that
was about to be said would lie said with
in range of their hearing, hut Mr. Flem
ing went to meet her, ami then turned to
the family group and said:
“As this interview has been permitte#!
entirely to satisfy me that 3bss Carnegie
is acting ir# accordance with her o-.vu
wish, you will not object to my taking
her to the other side of the room. It will
not be a private interview even then, but
if we can exchange a fe.v words unheard
l shall be mure abie to accept them os
final.”
Something in his manner terrified Mrs.
Carnegie. What was he saying? What
might not he be trying to persuade Do 1
lietodol She was a weak little thing
—they ought not to have afforded him
this opportunity, for the girl who had
yielded to her parents, when they bad
asked her to do what was contrary to
the wish of her heart, might yield t> her
lover when he i.s-o-1 a reverse.
“Charies," she whis|>etcd, “wc have
been fools to let him a-e her! Wno—”
“Do be quiet, my love,” sfid Mr.
Carnegie. “It can’t be helped now.”
But he was sitting, watch in hand, long,
ing as much as she did for the tea min
utes to come to an end. Fleming-was
talking so serious and Dollie listening so
intentiy.
“Time is up!” Mr. Carnegie es
claimed, almost :ovjus1v, as he put his
y«Mi told tb.« gentlemen by word ©f
-.V when
“».:c has told m. all I want to know,”
-aid Fleming. “Tuask you,
for alio#mg me to see her. Tha::k you
aln» for insisting • .i being :a the room
**th us. f»t 1 birr *«acth:3g to say
a ich roi-u res the orv«va<c of witnesses,
B#*t < »r* tlMsr 1 a*- i»>i 1 declare
th:* woman *W Near, Dollie,
•I*-**.. A l in » 1 » of the I .a..;.
*•*» had rtvovmd Jio-s tfi«
shock of hearing these words, Dollie hoc!
faltered forth. “I declare this man to be
my husband.”
-•What does this m in':’’ criel Mr.
Carnegie, who kac-w something of Scotch
law.
“It means that we are married! Don’t
be anxious about your daughter’s future.
I am not a Lord of Burleigh, but her
home will be one in which we can re
ceive you if you will come.’’—London
Black and White.
UTSE WORDS.
A bird doesn't sing by note.
Friendship is love disiafectcl.
Love is a spray of forget-me-not?.
Babies are sunbeams with clothes on.
Tiiere are volumes in a woman's eyes.
Learn to e .plain thy doctrine by thy
life.
l-’iesh without a thoru in it isn’t hu
^
K'ndncss out of season destroys
*
power.
An ounce of action is worth a pound
of talk.
Happiness doesn't alwavs ride in a
"
carriage. ", s ”,
Blessed the . sorrowful , , who ,
are carry a
cheery face. .9
Fine manners need the support of fine
manners in others.
A som , occupied with great ideas , best
performs small duties.
In this world it is not what we take
np, but what we give up that makes us
rich.
To speak out and to oilend, with
some people, are but one and the same
thing.
There are three supreme agonies in
life* the agony of jealousy, the agony of
fearing you have mistaken your talents,
and the agony of ennui.
“God bless you,” is the old-fashioned
summing up of sincere affection, with
out the least smirk of studied civility.
In moil of the highest character und
noblest genius there generally exists in
satiablu desire of honor, command,
power, and glory.
Thcro is no beautilier of complexion,
or form, or behavior, like the wisii to
scatter joy aud not pain around us.
With meekness, humility and diligence
npply yourself to the duties of your con
dition. They arc the seemingly little
things which make uo noise that do the
business. •
Knowledge of books in a man of busi
nsss is a torch in the hands of one who
is wilting and able to show those who
are bewildered tho way wnich leads to
prosperity.
“Squaw Men.”
“A squaw man,” said James B. Iloff.
man, of Guthrie, Oklahoma, at tho Na
tional, “is a white man who has mar
ried an Indian squaw. There are thou
sands of them out West and in California
and Nevada. Iu tbo last named States
they are a disreputable lot, ostracised by
their fellow whites aud lowered -eaeC
'ally to the’[mm, upon wl:A they nu
voluntarily placed themselves.
live in cabins in the mountains, fish,
hunt and work and mine a little, but
roll in tho mire of a social degrodation
well deserved, for it is beyond the com
prehension of a decent white man how
one can marry an average Indian squaw,
especially when there are so many white
-v ■» “ •*
tined squaw man. Most of then are of
he very ordinary caliber and m. per
haps, seven cases out of ten it w gc er
ally supposed that .hey have left then
respective communities for their own
pr.Hection. -
“ rhe most prominent squaw man in
the United btatc3 is old Amos UQip*
man, out in the Territory. While some
of them are well-to-do, even wealthy, as
things go out there, oil Amos overtop.
them all with his cattle, horses anl
lands. lie has been there for many
years, and is above the class I have just
referred to, for he enjovs the respect of
those who know him, and is a smart, go
. . f „
“For over fifty year, the white, have
been marrying with the five great civ.
ilixed tribes in the Territory, including
the Choctaws ami Cherokee, and their
children intermarrying have produced an
intelligent race that may be «ud to bo
educated, ami though thoy preserve thrfr
tnbal relations, lor the advantages
gained In holding lauds, they arc pmc
tically whites, and this class of men is
ot course, removed from the squaw men
I hive described. The average squaw
is about as thoroughly unattractive and,
I may say, as repulsive as a companion
as one caa ltuagme. — \\ athington Star.
- -
Tomatoes and taue -f.
In a late issue of the London Times
' appeared letter to the editor containing
a
j the following- “There is a very preva
lent idea that eating tom-itoe* is an ex.
j | citing cause of cancer, and lor inundated the last |
two years we have beeu so
with letters on this subject that the Med- j
teal Committee of the Cancer Hospital |
would he greatly obliged by your pub
lishing in the Times theiropiaiou—viz., '
that tomatoes neither prelispose to nor j
excite cancer formation, an i that they j >
arc not injurious to those suffering from
this disease, nut arc, oa the contrary, a
| Tcr T wholesome article of diet, particu
j tui* ^cncimlly known.
AG.-, t .... K\traori!inary L._____________ Tower.
i For a hgut we.ght gua of extraar 1m
*»:• power, the Cab. invented oj Colonel
de Usage, of the French army, i* at
trading much favorsb’e attention
abroa#i. It *n only a few week* ago
that it wa« given first preierence in com
petition with the Krapti an-i other ffehl
«uos at Constantinople, aa.l a ##» it too*
a e.ft like tlOtiavUdU la L#X.X..• —“NV W
diai-i IViki.*.
WISE WORDS.
Superstition renders a man a fool,
and skepticism makes him mad.
There is qo substitute for thorough
going, ardent and sincere earnestness.
The less a man thinks or knows
about his virtues the better we like
him.
Honorable industry always travels
the same road with enjoyment and
duty.
To love to preitch is one thing; to
love those to whom we preach, quite
another.
Poets are the mirrors of the gigantic
shadows which futurity casts upon the
present.
The strokes of the pen need delibera
tion as much as those of the sword
ncei j swiftness.
th ^“.f^wiw °La« and^haittfug
thoughts proceed,
Every burden has two handles—one
smooth and easy to grasp, one rough
and f lar, l to hold.
TL ” wealth of a man is the number
of things he loves und blesses and by
which he is loved and blessed.
Hc that honors his neighbor on ac
count of his money will in the end part
company with him in disgrace.
Long customs are not c-asilv broken;
he that attompts to change the course
of his life very often labors in vain.
The world is seldom what it seems.
To man, who dimly sees, realities ap-
2 >L-ur as dreams, and dreams realities.
The martyrs to vice far exceed tho
martyrs to virtue, both in endurance
and in number. So blinded are we by
our passions tlint we suffer more to be
lost than to be saved.
Offer to tho world ft large, generous,
true, sympathetic nature aud, rich or
poor, you will have friends, mid will
never bo friendless, qo matter what
catastrophes may befall yon.
A Strange Charity.
Of tho many strange ways of bestow
ing charity which owe their origin tc
the eccentric whims of wealthy testa
tors there ure few more peculiar than
that which takes place at the Priory
Church, West Kmithfield, every Good
Friday. This is the Money Dole. On
that tiny twenty-one widows might
have beeu seen picking up sixpences
from a tombstone. This singular cus
tom has been observed for ho many
years that the actual date of its incep
tion is forgotten. Even tho name of
the benefactor is unknown.
It is stated that a sum of money was
originally left by a lady to provide
masses each year for the repose of her
eoul, but when the Reformation
downed the trustees were puzzled how
to carry out tho bequest without mcit
ing hostile criticism. Eventually they
resolved to distribute the interest
"Inch accrued each year from tho
fund a certain number df poor wid
""H, should be obliged to k neel
? # totnb, ondptek In
the stofie «M£- -
this way it was hoped t
tents would involuntarily offer a prayer
iot the welfare of her soul,
Another difficulty, however, arose m
iv *»«* ^ ho ^7 , , i ^ T'°i b f°“ 1 bu ° ™ ° 2 d ^ 11(1,1
^ demolished, anil the site eon
^ t f the f und which sup
^ j th ch( rit ^ diverted, and
thftt time CU8tom haH been
ffiBintftined b / tho gcneroUB donations
of ^ oalthy p oplo who ttrc UIlw iU inR
that such a quaint 1 charity should bo
discoctiulletl _ Tho Millioii.
______
p r (g|dful Slaughter of Game Birds,
A , clipping from a Texas ~ paper an
aonnee. that an official of ono of tho
Pwhandlo counties of that State lma
^ a contract with a Kansas City
Jo deliver 30,000 dozen prairie
chickens within the next five months.
Thesobirds.it is said, are to he sent
*” Chicago to fill a contract mule with
P"»«* 111 that mty so that.Chicago
b *ve a supply of these hems dur
tb « wh ” la *»"? ° f th « 8
^ .
is
J * ^ ^ ^ contrftct but it ^
J rth tho whilc of the au
thor]ti of Tesag t o investigate this
anil to endeavor to protect t ho
thBt ^ cslgt iu the LoIie Star •
.
‘ ^
o{ Xexft3> i iko that of
h , * Jain3 States, ha. been ruthlessly
ftU ret , f Mli t o-dav there is little
of | <lft in compa rmon with what
there used to be. This little should l«:
preserved bv everv legitimate means,
The destruction of the prairie chicken
over ^ ^rge a portion of the territory
where it was once enormously obun
d|iat j g s d 11 fresh in th#* pnblio mind,
This is one of the bird, whose cx
termination over a vast territory has
coln plete, and unless measures for
preservation are soon taken in see
tioQS wbere lt still exists, it seems
hfctdy that in the course of a few years
^ u ;jj stau j j n the same position n#»w
occup i cd bv its relative, the heath hen
^ x an3h on; that ^ may exist only in
little colonies which are always iqoMdily grow
j U g in numlK-rs ami are
Two Mammoth ipph Twn.
The ^ two largest apple U tr.-sinthc
^ Y ., k ^ near the
town of Wilson. The largest was
phmteol in 1815. and thirty-three full
| >arr ,.i M 0 f apples were once picked
from its branch#* in a singl-.-season.
jq,e oth«-r is #<n the farm #»1 J. O. O.
Br##wa. and yielded tw.-nty ‘tomb barrel#, of
vhoicc- ' fruit anl five >>!
'vail*” in th.* wm-u of 1921.— SSC
I. :iikj-'ll#i»l.
• ••