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Ti!3 MlAft 1M.
CI1AWFORDVILLE. GKOItfil A
TV
A\ OLD liLI'RODATi:.
lie Tells ol ibR Trlrli ihiil Hr rinrcil U'lior.
Him Aiixiout* Wile.
“Yon sec, Martha got in the habit of
sitting up for me at an early age, and
she can’t break it off. I couldn’t per¬
suade her to go to tied and mind her
own business, so I studied on the mat¬
ter. We live in one of the centre houses
af a block of five-story-and-attic build¬
ings. There’s scuttles in the roofs of all
i,l them, and I persuaded Mr. Greenup,
who lives in the adjoining house, to let
me in his house last night about one
o’clock, and I went up through his scut¬
tle and over to mine, and so down into
onr bedroom. I could see Martha, from
the head of the stairs, sitting in the front
room eying the clock with a look that
was a very tart ebromo. But I undressed
and quietly got iu bed, and there I lay
■ ! iting developments. Every now and
then I’d hear Martha give a short, fid¬
gety cough. Then I’d hear her get lip
and prance around the room a little, and
by and by go to the front windows and
/lam the shutters.
“After I’d lain there about an hour, 1
Heard her get up and go stand out on
the front steps for a good five minutes.
Then she came in and slammed the
door and commenced coming up stair-.
Every other step she’d say: ‘Oh, the
wretch. Won’t I give it to him 1 I
know where lie is! I know where he
is ! He needn’t think to deceive me!
Oh, the villain 1’ ’Bout tbe time she
nad nearly got to the landing I think
,,he must have seen Uio light streaming
out of the door that I’d left nj ir. 1
could hear her stop, and then I coni
menced to snore. 1 was afraid to look,
you know, nut J could feel her cautious
Jv come up to the door and look iu.
Well, sir, I’d have given my pension
from the war of 177(1 to have seen her
about the time she saw it was mo. i’ll
bet it was fun. But 1 was afraid to do
anything but snore, Then she came
into the room, and, by the way sho
breathed and stood around, I had to
nearly bite my tongue off to keep a
straight face on me. f conld feel that
site sat down in a chair, and was dum
foniulcd. 1 never lot on, but kept on
snoring like thunder; but when sho
kicked over a chair I turned anil pr < -
tended to wake up, kind of dazed like,
and says:
“ ‘Why, Martha, dear, ain’t you'eomo
to bi d yet ?’
“ ‘Jarphly,’ said sho, nwful slow and
soteniu like, ‘when did you come in ?’
" ‘Why,’ must be lour or five hours ago.
Don’t von remember when 1 told you
qpt to go to sleep in the rocker, lint to
come i ip to lied ?’ and I turned over and
professed to go to sleep again. reply, but acted
“She never made any
in a dazed, bewildered Hurt of way, and
when she got to bed I could tell she
didn't sleep a wink for three hours.
“This morning it was fuu to watch
Martha. I could hardly keep a straight
face* it the breakfast table, eid all the
U«M l - ..... , u.....
thought , I
me when she was
then, when I’d notice her, she'd turn
away KlW aud be awfully busy ut something.
caught me kind of grinning once,
and, by George, 1 thought the explosion didn’t,
was about to come. But it
though the look of blank, unfathomable
suspicion sho wore on her face all tho
time was the greatest show on earth. It
nearly broke mo up, and I’ve laughed it
till nay ribs ueho ever since. I know
won’t last. I know there’s a day of reck¬
oning a-eoming, and the thermometer
is going clear out of sight in the Jarphly
family. But who’s going after trouble?
It’ll come soon enough without limiting
it, aud I'm going to enjoy that scuttle
in the roof until the explosionoomes."—
Chh ago Tribune,
Hie Boy iiini the Bone-St-Her.
Bpeaking of bone-setters recalls a
good story which occurred iu the north
of Bcotmnd, where ouo of them had
risen to great fame and no small fortune
by his skill. A country lad residing a
few miles off had got lus leg hurt at one
of the local factories, aud had been
treated for some time by the local medi¬
cal man without any good result, His
mother, who had great faith in tbe
neighboring bone setter, wanted the lad
to go to him, which he declined, pre¬
ferring, as he said, the “rog'lar faculty.”
Eventually, however, his mother’s per¬
suasions prevailed, and he agreed Darnel to
allow huuself to be taken to sec
li , the bone-setter. A bed for the
invalid was extemporized on a cart, and,
accompanied by his anxious mother, lie
was after a rather painful journey taken
tho town where the bone-setter re¬
sided. The leg was duly examined, and
A was found necessary to haul it very
covert ly, in order, as tho bone-setter
said, “to get the bone iu.” The lad was
liberal with his screams while this was
going on, but eventually the bone was
“got in,” and he was told to go home
and in a few days he would be all right
bud tit for his work.
“He was lifted up on the cart again,
oi l with li s mother seated beside him,
,et off for home. “Didn't Danny do
the ii't well?" sai l the joyous old
lady. “Yes. he did, mother,” ..aid the
lad, “but 1 was na sic a tool as gie him
ti.e su r leg !" The “rog’lar faculty”
will, wo have no doubt, appreciate the
•torv.
A MEAN REVENUE.
Barn Ferguson, who hail been ouo of
tlie fast young men of Galveston, so
hereit down aud married a rich old maid.
He i id not invite any of his boon com¬
panions to the vri-vtdiug. V.though
they were not present at the marriage
feast, they felt very much put out.
Bill Fasti rwan made up his uiuul to get
even with Ferguson. Meetiug the
bridal couple polite' on t! • street, he greeted
them very , and passed on.
Next day luei Ferguson alone,
E i-teruiaa said u pleasantly:
"Giati to 9lift.i1. ins with you again.
I di’in t care to > vou yesterday on
the street, when ou were mt walkhig
with yor.r mot}] - -:n-law. 1 though:
perhap* th il :r might Hot ..he it,”
— 7k'xa*
THE DYING YEAR.
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky.
The flyingclouU, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild beiis, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ling in the new;
Ring, happy hells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true
Ring out tbe i lifcf tha : saps the mind,
For tho-e that fo re we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
R ng ir. rt dress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring iu the nobler modes of life
With sweeter mannas, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care, tbe sin,
Tbe faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out, my mournful rhymes,
Rut t ing the fuller minstrel in.
Ring < ut fab" pride m place and blood,
The civic dander and the spite;
Ring in the lovc’of tiuth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease
Ring out the narrowing iust of gold;
King out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in tbe valiant man ami free,
The larger hex t, tin. kindlier hand;
Ring out the daikness of the land;
Ring iu tlie Christ that is to he.
Tennyson.
r 1 ( ’( I I’-F S 1 ] 1 i Til—•> *-t I J i 1J !,?■■■>
v y
It was a clear, frosty winter's day.
“Rial Christmas weather,” ladies
said, ns they hurried along, drawing
their warm wraps and heavy furs closer
around them, and keeping their hands
hidden cosily should away in their theirfingers muffs lest
-lack Frost give a
mischievous pinch,
“Pretty cold weather, / call it,” said
a little fellow whose bare red hands
were thrust into the pockets of his thin
jacket for warmth, and whose toes
peeped out inquisitively through the
holes in his shoes.
He stood shivering in front of a
baker’s shop feasting his eyes on the
tempting display of goodly Christmas
cheer in the window, and trying to
warm himself in the steam which ascend¬
ed through the grating.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if a fellow could
go in and getall the goodies he wanted,”
ho thought, looking with longing eyes
at the rich cakes piled up in lavish pro¬
fusion, and the amber and crimson
jellies. there," shouted the
“Come, move on,
baker roughly, as he saw the lioy loiter¬
ing in front of his window, opening the
dour just long enough to issue this order
and let out a rush of warm air, laden
with appetizing odors.
Ted obeyed slowly, giving joined one back¬
ward, reluctant glance, and the
stream of people who were hastening
along, intent on making their Christmas
purchases. wish it wasn’t too cold to bring
“I
Daisy out,” he said to himself, as ho
paused in front of a toy store. i i How
she would h«r these pretty
thmu* ■
■
bit. *■ J*
j ’iberu vn*»»taUUttUMr®
pent ami W>v.rli)ii‘S buttering tin J[ toys,
while a beautiful angel
with outstretched wings.
Ted loveil to look at this angel. It
never seemed to him like awoxeu image,
but more like u real atigel, who always
smiled down as lovingly and tenderly
upon the lorloru little follow, shivering
outside the window, ns upon many of
the mart fortunate little ones who were
daintily end warmly clad.
Then there wore dolls in countless
numbers. Stall powdered ly lady hair; dolls, baby with dolls, vel¬
vet trains and
with rosy cheeks and golden curls: little
boy and girl dolls, dolls ih.it walked and
cried, dolls that shut aud opened their
eyes at their little motheis’ pleasure, aud
last, but not least, cunning little black
dolls that wire dressed as mines, and
beamed out cheerily from the wide frills
of their white caps.
1 oonld not b gin to tell you of all tbe
other toys iu that wonderful window, of
the Chinese Mandarins that stood in
long rows and nodded their heads in¬
cessantly in the wisest possible manner,
of the sheep that bleated noisily, of the
vnliaut tin soldiers drawn up in battle
array, looking as if they conld conquer
the world. No; it would tako too long
a time, so I must leave you to imagine
it all for yourselves. seemed to like to look iu
Everybody thatWindow, and sometimes Ted
at was
pushed about and almost carried away
by the jostling, hurrying crowd; but
then he would wait for a clianco and
slip back to bis old position, where he
could see all the pretty things.
'•How I wish I could get Daisy some¬
thing for Christmas,” he thought, re¬
membering the little lame sister at home
who could not come out even to see the
beautiful windows. “Perhaps if 1 have
any luck in selling the papers to-night I
might get something,” but he checked
himself. It was rather a forlorn hope, for
out of tho few pennies supper for Daisy
and "himself must come, and then what
over was left over must be put aside for
the rent.
“How she would open her eyes if I
could take heme one of those lovely dolls
to her !
“Oh, oh, oh, wliat beautiful things !”
cried a sweet little voice so full of enthu¬
siastic delight that almost everybody
turned to smile at the iittle speaker.
She was such a pretty little girl, with
long, golden curls falling over her blue
plush jacket, great blue eyes opened to
their widest possible extent at the sight
of all the lovely toys, and the sweetest
little face, with rosy cheeks, where the
dimples plaved hide-and-go-seek when
ever she smiled.
“She looks just like Daisy,” thought
Ted, as he watched her, for iu his eyes
no one could be prettier thau the little
sister who loved him dearly, and of
whom he took the best eare that he
con hi
Boor little fellow ! He was only 13
years old; scarcely old enough, one
would think, to take care of himself,
and yet, somehow or another, lie had
mameted to take ears of this little sister
too for uearlv a year, ever since the pa¬
tient, hard working mother had died,
leaving her in his eare.
It was pretty hard work sometimes,
but if the little closet ever got entirely
empty some kiodhearted neighbor would
offer the children a share of her scanty
meal, and the kind Father who watches
over even the little sparrows never for
got them.
“Give us this diy our daily bread,",
they prayed every clasped morning, kneeling
side by side with hands, and
with all the fervent faith of childhood in
God’s promises, they believed that it
would always be sent to them.
“Oh, nnrsie, let’s go in and look at all
the lovely dolls,” cried the little girl,
drawing the nurse toward the door.
As she drew her little gloved hand out
of her dainty muff, she dropped a tiny
blue velvet purse in the snow.
Ted sprang forward and picked it up
as it fell.
“Wait a moment,” he exclaimed, as
she was about to enter tbe store. “You
dropped something.”
“Oh, my pretty purse,” cried the
child. “I wouldn't have lost it for any¬
thing. Thank you ever so much. Wait
a moment, nurse,” she said, as the girl
was about to hurry her on; “I want to
give this little boy something.”
“Oh, no, you needn’t mind that,’’said
Ted, drawing back.
“I would rather, though,” said the
little girl, putting a silver quarter into
his hand with a bright smile, as she
spoke, and Ted, thinking of little Daisy,
did not refuse the gift, but accepted it
gratefully with a very earnest “Thank
yon. ’’
“Now I can get Daisy a Christmas
present,” he thought, joyfully, and en¬
tered the store with the happy con¬
sciousness that he, too, poor and shabby
as he was, had some Christmas shopping
to do.
“What do yon want, little boy?”
asked a girl, sharply.
“I want to liny a doll,” answered Ted,
not at all embarrassed by her curt man¬
ner.
“What kind of a doll?” she asktd.
Ted was puzzled.
“I don’t know—a pretty one,” he
answered.
“How much money have you got to
spend on one?” she asked, crossly.
“J>o you want an expensive one?”
“I want the prettiest doll you have
got for terity-flve chilled cents,” said Ted,
meekly, feeling at her evident
unwillingness to wait on him.
“You can’t get much of a doll for
that,” she answered; "Rut I will show
what we have. ”
ym followed her to the back of the
Tid
store.
“Here is a babv doll,” she said, open¬
ing a box and placing it before him as
she spoke. Ted gave a gasp of delight,
ft was such a beautiful doll in his eyes.
It was dressed in a long white dress,
with a scarlet cloak and hood, and the
tiniest bang of golden hair showing
around her forehead.
What if it was a cloth doll ? Weren’t
its cheeks quite as rosy as its waxen
cousins’; and if the materials of its
dress were of the coarsest, what did Ted
care for that? :
' ,ai perfect dream of'dehght he* avr
ul Ids I r <jiuu&SMyi“ «•>.<
her wrap the'doll up in paper. '
“Oh, did you buy something?” askf d
the little girl, touching his arm as he
going out ol the store. “Won t you
Ft me see what you got !
bid < pened the paper, red with pride
bashfulness, aud ox libited Instreas
ure.
“Isn’t it a beauty ?" he asked.
“It’s real cunning,” answered tho
child. “Who did you get it for ?” she
asked.
"For my little sister D.iisv,” he an
swered, “and won’t sho be pleased with
it, though?” ho added with a fond fare¬
well glance at it as he enveloped it in
its paper covering again.
“You’re a nice sort of a boy to get
your sister a present,” said the child,
with grave approval. “I hope she will
get a nice one for yon. Good-bye.”
"Good-bye,” responded Ted answer¬
ing her smiling farewell.
Two whole days to Christmas ! How
would he ever be able to keep his pre¬
cious secret for (hat length of time?
Ho buttoned his thin jacket carefully
t.ver the treasure and stood for a mo¬
ment irresolutely on the corner, won¬
dering whether he would have time to
go home with it before he went for the
evening papers. opened again
The door of the toy store
aud his little friend came out, accompa¬
nied by hor nurse.
“Oh, there’s mamma !” she exclaimed
as she caught sight of a lady on the op
[Kisito side of the street.
“Wait 1 wait! Miss Flossie, you’ll de¬ be
run over,” cried the nurse, trying to
tain her, but the child had slipped from
her grasp and started to run across the
street.
Jingle ! jinglo ! Merrily sounded the
sleigh bells as a sleigh came dashing
around the corner. There weTe mingled
screams of terror from the mother and
nurse as they saw the danger the uncon¬
scious Flossie was iu. Could nothing
save her ?
Suddenly—nobody ever knew just ho v
it happened—a smail boy, a very small
aud very ragged, but surely a very brave
boy, sprang forward right in front of the
prancing horses and hung on their
heads. but
Only a moment ho detained them,
that moment was long enough for some
one to snatch up the frightened baby
and save her from those cruel trampling
hoofs. Thfn rendered unmanageable
by fright, the horses dashed ou again
over a little prostrate form that lay un¬
conscious ou the muddy, blood-stained
snow. do¬
Ted scarcely realized what he was
ing when he darted forward and sprang
iu front of the horses.
He had not had time to think of any¬
thing s we that the little girl who
•looked like Daisy” was in danger and
lie must save her. Instinctively he had
tried to stop the horses and that was the
last he remembered. He did not feel
strong arms lifting him gently into a
carriage nor the doctor’s skillful hands
bandaging his cut head and broken arm.
“It’s a miracle that the brave little
fellow was not trampled to death,” thei
doctor had said. “Fortunately this cutt
on nis head is very slight and his brok
on arm will soon heal; so with a littk
cure and nursing, which I dare say the
poor child needs badly enough, he will
be all right again in a short time,
When Ted awoke to con-eiousuess he
could not imagine where he was. Not
it home, surely, for he was not in the
little straw bed in the corner of a dark,
ld room Xo; he was in a downv
whjte bej wi:b the softest of pillows
d his ac ; 1Ui g head and a delicious
^ ol warmt n pervading his chilled
framP g e tr i e( j to move his arm but it
wa , bandaged and the effort hurt him.
“Are you awake yet?” asked a little
voice, aiid Ted opened his eyes to see
his little friend standing beside him.
He remembered it all then,
"I am so glad yon didn’t get run
over.” he said, feebly, for somehow he
didn’t feel very strong. Then, as he
thought of his treasured doll, he ex¬
suddenly: “Oh, where is
Daisy’s doll ? Did it get broken ? ”
t *• Yes, it was all tram ole 1 in the mud,”
answered Flossie, gravely, “but you
mustn’t mind that, I will give you one
* mine. ”
“ But it won’t be that one,” sighed
-wed, his eyes filling with tears.
” of the doll seemed much
The loss a
greater misfortune to him than the
bandaged arm or the pain which made
his head throb so wearily.
“Mamma, he’s awake,” called Flossie,
softly, and a lady came in from the next
room and bent over him tenderly. A
warm mother’s kiss she gave him,
and in sweet low tones thanked him lor
saving little Flossie’s life.
“Is the pain so bad?” she asked, as
she saw tbe tears standing in his great
brown eyes.
“ Oh, it isn’t that,” sobbed Ted, “but
Daisy’s doll—-it is all broken, and it is
ail the Christmas I had for her. I must
go home,” and he tried to sit up, but the
effort was too much for him.
“Shall I send for Daisy?” asked
Flf^sie’s mamma pushing back the
dark curls tenderly from his aching fore¬
head.”
‘•Yes, please,” answered Ted ; and so,
about half au hour later, as little Daisy
was sitting shivering by the window
looking down into the dimly-lighted
street, and wondering why her brother
Ted didn’t come, she saw a carriage stop
in front of the house and a gentleman
gefWat and run lightly up the she steps.
Yon can imagine how surprised was
when she found that the carriage had
been sent to take her to Ted, and she
put on herilittle well-worn shawl and old
hood hastily, that she might go to him
at once.
It seemed a long time to Ted before
he heard the carriage wheels stop again
in front of the house and knew that
Daisy i had come. she
“ will go down and see that gets
nice and warm, and then I will send
her up toyou,” said Flossie’s mamma.
Presently Ted heard the familiar
thump, thump of Daisy’s little crutch
on the stairs, aud in another moment
the door opened and Daisy came in.
But was it Daisy? Ted had to fairly
rub ShfJ his eyes to see more plainly.
had on a pretty blue dress, and
her o*”ls, as golden as Flossie’s own,
1 back with a bright ribbon. she
darling brother,”
’ed » bandaged head,
1 ’ • ‘ - *’• • • wnftt *
;tv dress,” said Ted,
shkue.ntS'Eott folds, aud forgetting all
;vUt. fTis l pain in the pleasure of seeing
lisv 'Fkissie's 0 comfortably clad.
mamma gave it to me,” said
lisv.l “Wasn’t she kind?” and she
ritleifi her little golden head down be
?ie V, d's dark curls aud told him how
jostle’s mamma spend Christmas had said with they were Flossie to
av st Wj
ad 0 a beautiful tree aud have lovely
jesehts. 4ll dream these chil
It seemed like a to
cen, who had known so little happiness. well
“Now yon must hurry Teiidie, up and get
hfoiQ Christmas, dear,” said
i.osiiie, softly stroking lovely his bandaged time.”
Lae, “and we'll have a
Aid they did have a lovely time. I
cent think that either of them will ever
(wet it. such
Tie beautiful Christmas-tree bore
woderful fruit—a nice new suit of
eloiies aud a warm overcoat for Ted,
anc’tlle prettiest little cloak aud hat for
Dssy; and then, besides those useful
prsents, there were so many others.
I lovely doll for Daisy that seemed to
bethe twin sister of Flossie's, and more
oter pretty gifts than I could tell you
of And this happy Christmas was only
th beginning of good times for Ted and
Disy. be that Flossie’s papa
Jou may sure iittle
an; mamma would not let the boy
wlo had saved their only darling go
ba* to his old life of poverty and hard,
hipeless work. installed in the nursery as
Daisy was
litle Flossie’s playmate, and many a
h;ppy hour do the two girls spend to
gither over their dolls and their lessons.
Ted, quite well again now, goes down
t«wn to business every day with Flossie’s
Ikpa. He is only errand boy now; but
lfe is very ambitions, and he thinks that
lerhaps ■ ome day, when he grows older
agd wiser, he may become a clerk, and
ken—who knows ?—become a partner
ia ttie business and grow rich, so that he
iau take good cure of sister Daisy.
Perhaps all this may happen yet.
tfho knows ? But I think Ted will
ilwavs remember this Christmas as the
happiest day of ■*' his life. 1 "
Those Trouble some Felons.
_
Not the convicted violators of our laws,
but the atrocious and excruciating mal
ady which icu may attack -____the even fairest
hand. A correspondent of the Michi
qan Farm r writes writes that that they tney can can be uo
cured, and a trial of the alleged remedy
will at least do no harm.
sion wmm
spphe.l it ,o the a^Ced par!. lire
In „* . hole to
ax-salve, and the finger is well
rilEIlt WT.ViKITE MINE.
The Anarchism wb« Trlei! to K II tbe Em¬
peror VVilliam t ouvicinl.
The Anarchists were tried at Leipsic
for attempting to cause an explosion at
the unveiling of the Niedcrwald monu¬
ment tr. Germany.
Rupsch has confessed that Reinsdorf
ordered him to fire the mine. This con¬
sisted of a large stone jar and a glass
bottle filled with dynamite and furnished fuse
with percussion caps To these a
was attached, and the whole was placed
in a drain which crosses the road about
ten minutes’ walk from Niederwald. He
was ordered to fire the train when the
Emperor William’s carriage was fifty
feet distant from the drain by applying
a lighted cigar to the end of the fuse
placed at the side of the roadway.
Rupsch asserts that he was unwilling to
effect the explosion, and applied an un¬
lighted cigar. his
Kuechlen upbraided Rupsch for
failure, and the latter gave the explana¬
tion that the fuse was wet and failed to
light. Kuechlen then told Itupsch tc
place new tinder in the fuse and to ex¬
plode the mine when the Emperor was
returning. Rupsch returned to the
drain, fastened fresh tinder to the fuse,
but cut the fuse in two about two metres
from the charge. When the Emperoi
returned and was at the proper spot,
Rupsch applied a burning cigar to the
Rise and walked away.
Kuechlen was very angry at the sec¬
ond frl-f/re, and when the road was clear
of people removed the dynamite to the
grand pavilion at liudesheim, where a
concert was in progress. Kuechlen
thereupon sneaked away and Rupsch ex¬
ploded the dynamite ten paces from the
pavilion and ran away.. He declares that
he only wished to see the unveiling of
the monument without expense and that
he intended from the first to frustrate
the murderous plan.
The prosecution regard the last state¬
ment and that he applied an unlighted
cigar to the fuse and cut the fuse as in¬
ventions made by Rupsch for the pur¬
pose of excutpating himself.
Reinsdorf appears to have been the
ringleader of the conspirators throngh
out. He hears himself now with the
utmost coolness—almost of effrontery.
It has been learned that Reinsdorf has
had dealings with Hodel, the man who
attempted to assassinate Emperor Will¬
iam iu 1878, and also with Most, the
well known anarchist. He denies, how¬
ever, that he was ever Most’s emissary.
A witness named Palm testified that
Reinsdorf had threatened that any one
who should betray him would be killed
by an emissary from London or Amer¬
ica. Reinsdorf, he said, received money
from London through him. These state¬
ments of Palm were denied by Reins¬
dorf.
A unstable deposed that Bachman
had confessed that Reinsdorf promised
him pay ior exploding the mine. A tin¬
smith identified Reinsdorf as the man
who bought the boxes of him that con¬
tained the dynamite found at Elberfeld.
S- ven of tne eight prisoners were con
vie 1 d, including Reinsdorf.
The Health of Wome
V/'’-'-.-"-" w-; ..... ■ try y... , I
OUT-DOl'B KXCRTa —> .WORK.
A well-known physician was talking
about health matters generally with turned a
reporter, when the conversation
upon the ill-health of women as com¬
pared with that of the sterner sex.
“The principal cause of woman’s ill
health,” said the doctor, “is that they
ignore the old* sayine : 'Mms Sana in
<oi pore nano.’ The majority of women
who have passed their twentieth year
know next to nothing about the exertion
of mind and body. To begin with, wo¬
man is molded of finer clay than man,
and is of course more susceptible to in¬ of
jury. They do not observe the rules
hygiene so uniformly as men clo.”
“Explaine matters a little more in de¬
tail, doctor.”
“Well, women do not eat, drink or
dress with reason. They nibble too
much, Their stomachs are constantly
at work. It is almost impossible lor
that organ to secrete any ehyie—tiiat ia,
the juice which acts as a dissolvent of
the contents of the stomach—so long as
that organ is at work. By this too fre¬
quent eating a rational appetite is
spoiled. Only one thing then can fol¬
low—an impaired digestion and dys¬
pepsia. greatest of the health
“The cause poor
of American women, however, is the
lack of invigorating employment. They
loll too much. Their brain and whole
muscular system becomes sluggish, aud
at last incapable of sustaining any strain
at all. Tne need of American women
is not doctors and medicines, but ad¬
vice and more out-of-door exercise, more
useful employment in the house and
more interchange of ideas and opinions.
Woman, instead of being man’s in¬
ferior aud the weaker of the two, is in¬
tended by nature to be the greater and
and the stronger.”
Died a Hero’s Death.
SACRIFICING HIS OWN LIFE TO SAVE THE
LIFE OF OTHERS.
Alvin ( C. L. Boston.' Sawyer died at the City
Hospital at He was janitor of
t ij e y > u th End Apartment Hotel, which
was damaged by fire. He sacrificed his
own life to save many more lives. It
was a choice deliberately made. Awak
ened iu the midst of suffocating smoke,
he grasped the situation instantly. His
children children were were asleep asleep in in the the next next room, room,
but the fire had made such progress that
there appeared tobeiio time in which
to to save save them mem and then to alarm the
seore^above.
tojurkl ^
„» It is oow p,opo«d to ,ee
? surviving child.
THE JOKER'S BUDGET
A BATCH OF CIKHl THING-* POCND IN
T LlL UU.liOICOl'S III. C.UNS.
BraWTg rl c l i**»*-A Ffnhcr’n Hint—
Throwing a. Hollar—loo Jiu- li Loxnry
A Ktvenijt:—The Trees HuVe
t.'iiiv a Atep« Ltt\, Etc.
HOW TO GET KID Or SET.
The other evening a young lady was
walking home and was approached beside by a
dude, who amhled up Her, and
proceeded to make himself agreeable.
“May I—ah—carry—ah—your purse?”
said he.
“On, I don’t mind,” she replied;
He took it and seemed delighted to be
of udv service. They walked and walked,
she, wishing to get rid of him, kept si¬
lent, while thinking about something
funny to soy. finally ventured, “I
“Miss Clara,” he
don’t think you have much money left.
This purse seems a little flat; he ! he
he!”
“Flat? Well, it is a little flat, sure
enough, but I don’t mind that: it’s a big
flat that I object to.”
He left her at the next corner.— Ev¬
ansville Argus.
roo siren luxury..
Proud Pa.—“No, sir. Young man,
your pleading is useless. My daughter
must marry her equal.” certainly
Poor Suitor—“I am her
equal in birth, breeding, education, and
“Ah ! but you are not ■ri
wealth. That’s what I S . My
daughter has been used to a fife of lux¬
ury-” but--”
“I know,
“No interruptions, please. She has
never known what it is to want for any¬
thing. Nothing that money conld pur¬
chase has been denied her. She has
never been allowed to lift her hand lo
help herself in any way; never allowed
to learn to sew, to knit, to cook, to—in
fact, she knows no more about such
things than I know about Greek. Sbe
don’t even select her own wardrobe,
choose her own bonnets or comb her
own hair, She—” But he had fled.—
Phila. Call.
A MANUFACTURER IX BAKE LUCK.
Manufacturer—“What’s that yon
say ?”
Superintendent Cotton-goods Factory
—“We found the scalp of a negro in
that last bale. It was probably caught
in the machinery and whisked off some
way.”
“What rare luck !”
“Luck, sir?”
“Certainly. I can now meet the pop¬
ular demand. Mix it in well.”
“Why, sir, mix what in well, sir?”
“The scalp, of course. And, by the
way, as you go through the office tell
the bookkeeper to change our advertise¬
ments.”
“Yes, sir; how, sir?”
“Tell him to advertise the goods as
part wool .”—Philadelphia Call.
A CAREER.
The customer had a big bald spot on
tbe back of his head. The faintest turze
was barely visible on the polished thehaTi, scalp.
In brushing the remnant of liair
>* l S-itemUPg titfftnagitiary i*ui-face, partmiydi
■
rtctly through it, and then using the
brush in a way that would have ar¬
ranged the hirsute covering if there had
been any.
“What on earth made you do that?”
I subsequently asked him.
“Because I would have offended him
by recognizing his baldness,” was the
reply; “and by ignoring it I tickled him
mightily.”
can’t ktrr them tiiat way.
“The best way to get rid of roaches, ’
said the man with the glasses, “is to let
your fires ah go out some real cold night,
raise all your windows and freeze them
out. The first cold night I intend to do
that, and will pour water in every crack
and let it freeze.”
“It won’t work,” replied the man with
the red nose. “1 tried that myself once
and when 1 came down stairs the next
morning to gather up the corpses I found
that all the roaches had strapped skates
on and organized skating parties, You
can’t kill a roach that way ."—Oil City
[Uizzard.
TREES REAVE.
It was loner after midnight, and the
minutes were clicking by like hours.
“I love a graceful elm tree,” she re¬
marked. tree, he
“How I wish I were an elm
responded, quickly. too.”
“I wish you were, inquired with
“Why do you?” he
a world of devotion in his voice.
“Because,” she replied, '‘trees leave
once a year at least ."—Drake s A1 titj~
urine.
A WONDERFUL THING.
Young Artist (displaying his latest
picture)—Ya-as, art is a wonderful thing.
Why do you know that with a single
dash of the brush I can change the face
of a laughing child iuto that of a crying
Cil knows nothing of art)
()ld Party (who the brush ?
__Hr_by hitting it with
ONLY A STEP.
Most people will approve of the sug¬
gestion contained in the following
rhyme:
It is but a siep-oh dep-oh.
Down to the
. Tlie way i- quite sleep-oh deep-oh.
T hat leads to the
I slipped on a grape-oh
Just try the day-pith.
In a store near tlie dee-pot
I bought this small t-a-pot.
Perhaps, to end tne agitation, station.
VVe’d better henceforth call it
tsr&%*ss .o‘corn, l t y!r«st MI
to HaMi»gton, Put
hto to cone »al “£££££
* - *
<M ~ i U rm awa>
