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Compensation.
The hope that illumines the way of Ufa
Is ft will-o’-the-wisp that afar
I-eadeth through mazes of toil and strife,
A ghost in the guise of a star.
Then why should I covet a snare, sweet¬
heart,
Of the laurels with which they are
crowned,
Who vanquish, if no one will care, sweet¬
heart,
When I am under the ground?
Transient and fleeting the light of love
That indifference sbadoweth soon.
Fairest illusion will often prove
A blight where we hoped for a boon.
Thus memory crushes my soul, sweetheart,
With the bandage in which I am bound
Till destiny deal out my dole, sweetheart,
And I am under the ground?
Fruit is a dreamfield of youth’s bright day,
With life in its beauty and bioom-;
Happy the reapers who bear away
Its fruits, at the harvest time, home.
But bitter the sorrowful thought, sweet¬
heart,
Though my name may be widely re¬
nowned ;
How barren the waste where I wrought,
sweetheart,
When 1 am under the ground?
Joyous the day with its toils and tears,
And troubled the visitors of night,
Dreary the gloom of the passing years.
In their lonely, monotonous flight.
•Tis but in remembering thee, sweetheart,
That my life’s compensation is found;
Thou’Jt cherish my inem’ry and me, sweet¬
heart,
When l cm under the ground?
—M. Al. Folsom, in Atlanta Constitution.
THE STRANGER.
“ ’Taint the way an honest man ’uld
act, nohow,” said old “Dad” Tangle,
with a decisive shake of his unkept
head. “There in that old shanty he’s
lived fer three weeks now, aud, barrin’
when lie's bought grub here in the
store, nary word hez lie 6aid to me
since the night he come.”
“Ner me.”
“Ncr me.”
Then a speculative silence fell on the
smoke-enveloped group around the
stove.
“Like ez not,” continued the old
man between his puffs, “we’re a-har-
borin’ a runaway crim’nal from the
East, or a hossthief.”
<4 He don’t look ’zactly like a
crim’nal,” spoke out a prominent
citizen, known as Fizzletop. “We
didn't s’picion nothin’ when he drove
up in that big wagon o’ his’n aud
asked if there was a cabin he could
rent.”
“That’s jes’ it,” interrupted Dad
with emphasis. “ ‘Pearances is de¬
ceiving. Would a man shut hisself
up alone in-doors all day if he wasn’t
a sharp or sump’in’? Would a mau
live three weeks iu th’ town without
iningliu’ with the boys er inwitin’
•eui up to his place, if he knew ther
war’nt nothin’ agin him?”
These unanswerable arguments had
hardly been unburdened, when there
camo a gentle knock at the door, aud,
a moment later, the subject of the con-
versa ion stood within the room.
He was a man of perhaps 35, tall
and slight, with skin of effeminate
whiteness, and deep-sot eyes which re¬
flected the quiet earnestness of an un¬
usually thoughtful and sensitive mind.
An intensely black, drooping mus¬
tache seemed rather to assist in the
prevailing tone of sadness in the face.
With an easy self-posse-eion, the
newcomer removed his hat, an act evi¬
dently of natural and unconscious
courtesy, aud, with a slight inclina¬
tion of the head, which seemed to in¬
clude all in the room, he greeted the
loungers with a low-spokeu “good¬
evening.”
There was a long, awkward pause.
A bright spet flashed into each of his
pale cheeks as Lis greeting passed un¬
answered, but he still retained his
thorough self-possession. Beplacing
his hat with a firm motion and keep¬
ing his eyes unflinchingly on the
crowd, he proceeded to explain calmly
what he wanted. His horse bad died
the day before in the shed at the cabia.
If some one eoukl be gotten to remove
the body he would be well paid for the
trouble.
It required a strong prejudice to
out-balance au offer of this kind, but
popular feeling seemed to be decidedly
against the Stranger, aud, in Saddle¬
town, popular feeling was very likely
to prevail.
Finally one of the men removed a
corn-cob p : pe for a sufficient length of
time to drawl out, with mock gravity;
“Reckon you’ii have ter git rid o’
the hoss meat yerself, mister. None
o’ the boys seem to cotton to the j">b. ”
This speech was hailed with a round
of guffaws from the Saddletown citi¬
zens, and before these had died away,
the Stranger with a slight bow, had
disappeared as quietly as he had come.
Perhaps it was the laugh that had so
mollifying an effect on the assemblage.
Perhaps it was the ever-increasing to¬
bacco fumes that soothed it into better
mood. Be that as it may, there cer¬
tainly was a reaction in favor of the
Stranger after his departure.
The western miner of a dozen years
ago was a curious mixture of good
and evil, swayed by the slightest of
impulses, and, perhaps, only this can
account for the flood of good feeling
which rolled into Dad Tangle’s little
shop as the evening progressed.
Fizzletop declared, with more good
humor than respect, that “the old
bone-bag seemed gamey,” ar.d even
Dad himself allowed that “he might¬
n’t be so had arter all.” This t^as the
state affairs had reached when one of
the boys suggested, with a laugh, that
they should go over and “cart the old
boss away before morning.”
The idea had been offered as a joke,
and yet, fifteen minutes later the
crowd was straggling through the
moonlight toward the Stranger’s
cabin.
It was decided that Fizzletop’s team
should be used,as his shanty was near¬
est that of the Stranger’s, and the boys
had almost reached the old shed, when
suddenly there was a quick exclama¬
tion from Fizzletop, a clatter of
horse’s hoofs, the sharp crack,crack of
a derringer, and in another moment
some of the party were chasing a
riderless horse, while the others bent
over a motionless figure in the road.
The figure was that of the StYanger.
The horse was Fizzlelop’s.
The change from good humor to in¬
dignation was extreme. Even before
the unconscious man was pronounced
still alive several were making toward
the shed in search of a rope. The re¬
port of Fizzletop’s pistol had quickly
attracted a number of spectators, and
Dad Tangle was expounding on the
keenness of his perception of character,
and his abiiiiy iti particular to detect
a horse-thief “at first squint.”
Strange to say, Fizzletop 6eemed to
take the affair more calmly than the
others, “(live the man a chance,” he
said, as the rope was brought up,
ready noosed. “He can’t esc°pe. Let’s
carry him over to his cabin and give
him a trial.”
After a good deal of grumbling at
“puttin’ the thing oil',” this was finally
agreed to, but Dad insisted on taking
the rope along so that it would be on
hand w r hen wanted.
It was only a few steps to the
Stranger’s cabin, and when Fizzletop’s
horse had been returned to the shed,
there the still unconscious man was
borne.
After forcing open the doer and de¬
positing the limp figure in the already
lighted room, the men proceeded to
examine carefully the interior, and
many were the expressions of surprise
at the shelves of books, the great
lamp, and the general air of neatness.
But the supreme sense of Saddletown
justice was not to be shaken by mere
sentimentality.
Dad Tangle had just delivered him¬
self of the opinion that as the Stranger
had been seen making off with the
horse no trial was needed when one of
the men suddenly interrupted him
with:
“Hello! what’s this?”
In a moment the crowd was clus¬
tered spellbound around the speaker.
On a peg hung a little frock, while
beneath rested a pair of tiny shoes.
The rough, liai'd faces were studies
in their varied expressions.
It was F.zzletop who broke the
spell. Without a word he stepped
quickly to the bedside and pushed
aside the curtain. On the pillow lay
a flushed little face, amid a tangle of
golden curls.
One or two of the miners turned
away with heads bent forward
on their breasts. Fizzletop’s hand
trembled strangely as he held aside
the curtain, and old Dad Tangle es-
saved to speak, and got as far as
“Well, I’ll be blowed,” when some-
thing seemed to choke him, and after
swallowing suspiciously two or three
times, he made his way uncertainly
out of doors.
The light on the any face awakened
the little sleeper, and the blue eyes
opened wonderinglv.
“Where is papa?”
Several more of the group, with
silent and unsteady steps, passed out
through the open doorway.
“He’s a—a—asleep now,” Fizzletop
answered, huskily; and the curtain
dropped to conceal the motionless
figure on the floor.
“He 6aid he was going to bring a
doctor for me,” said the childish
voice.
Fizzletop started.
“A doctor here iu town?” he asked
with quick earnestness.
“Oli, no,” answered the little one
simply. “The people in town wouldn’t
help us.”
“But have you no mammy, deary?”
“Mamma is dead,” said the child,
gravely.
Without another word Fizzletop
turned. With one bound he placed
his ear to the figure on the floor.
“Off with his coat, boj’s,” he whis¬
pered hoarsely, as he dashed through
the doorway, and a moment later there
was a clatter of flying hoofs.
So the little flushed face had a
doctor after all, and the doctor had
two patients instead of one.
“They’ll both be all right in a few
days,” he said to the circle of anxious
faces as he rode away. “I knew the
man over in ’Frisco. He’s heart-
9 the loss
broken and despondent over
of Lis wife, but lie’s a first-rate fel¬
low.”
It would be untrue to say that in
after days the tall, slight figure was
the most popular one in town; for the
most popular was not a man at all;
but then, next to the little golden¬
haired girl came the Stranger.—[De-
roit Free Press.
What a Uhoir Singer May Earn.
A soprano, in an average city, will
be paid, as a beginner, anywhere from
$200 to $300 per annum. As she be¬
comes better known, and is in more
thorough command of her voice, she
will average from $500 to $800. Bos¬
ton pays about $200 per annum better
to choir singers than any other city in
my knowledge. Several sopranos there
receive yearly salaries of $1000 and
$1200, and a few $1500.
A woman with a good contralto
voice will begin with an annual salary
of $200, which, if she is successful,
may rise to an average of $300. There
are two churches in Philadelphia, I
believe, which pay their contraltos
$400; but this, in cities outside of
Boston, which 88 with sopranos aver¬
ages about $200 higher, is unusual.
And even a genuine alto, that rarest of
things in these days, will command but
from $300 to $400 per annum. The
Hub, of course, docs better than this by
$200, but even with this addition none
of these salaries appear precisely ex¬
travagant, or to admit of much luxury
in living, and salaries are rarely in¬
creased. Should a rival church make
an offer for a voice, if the fii st church
is desirous of retaining it, the rival’s
price is overbid and the voice retained.
— [Ladies’ Home Journal.
Where the Barley Brows.
In a report upon the cultivation ol
barley, prepared by M. Tisserand,
Director of Agriculture in France, it
is estimated that the world’s annual
production of this grain is 825,000,00C
bushels, of which three-foarths are
grown in Europe and the remainder in
the United States, Canada, Chili, India,
Australia, Japan, Tunis and Algeria.
The total value is estimated at about
$800,000,000. The countries of larges)
production are stated as follows:
Russia 129,000,000, the United King¬
dom 93,0.00,000, Germany 93,000,000,
Austria-Hungary, 88,000,000, Spain
77,000,000, France 49,000,000, Sweden
and Norway 22,000,000 bushels; out
of Europe—Algeria 00,000,000, Egypt
27,000,000 bushels.
New Paper Products.
Various new applications of paper
are being made by German manufac¬
turers. A pulley of hydraulic-pressed
pasteboard, with an iron core and
strong easing, is said to have greater
friction than one of iron, making it
possible to use smaller pulleys, and to
gave vibration by reducing the tension
0 f bdts. This pulley is made from
the well-known oil paper employed for
car wheels, Handles for files and
other tools are being made from com-
pressed chemically-prepared paper, and
are hard, smooth, light, durable and
very convenient.
STANLEY’S BIG FIND.
IMMENSE FORESTS OF INDIA
RUBBER TREES IN AFRICA.
The part played by rubber as a factor
in civilization.
The discovery by Stanley of im¬
mense forests of india rubber trees in
the valley of the upper Congo will
mark a new epoch in the industrial
history of the world. During the
past fifty years caoutchouc, popularly
known as india rubber, has been a
most important factor in promoting
civilization.
Many can remember when the only
use made of this substance was as an
eraser for pencil marks, About the
year 1825 a Boston sea captain brought
from South America a pair of shoes
such as were worn by the Indians in
Brazil. They were formed of rubber,
which was melted and allowed to cool
over pieces of clay, shaped something
like a human foot, Thesc shoes at-
tracted great attention, and arrange¬
ments were made for importing many
pairs of them. From that time till
the present the progress in finding
methods of treatiug India rubber and
applying it to new uses lias been
steady.
Sevevfil chemists and inventors gave
their attention to it for years. An
Englishman discovered a way to dis¬
solve it and use it for giving a thin
coating to silks and other kinds of
cloth, and water-proof clothing, blan¬
kets and tents soon appeared on the
market.
Its general use for springs for rail¬
way cars soon produced a great de¬
mand for it and carried up the price.
Soon Goodyear in this country and
other experimenters in Europe discov¬
ered that a union could be formed be-
tween caoutchouc and sulphur, by
means of which the first substance be¬
came endowed with new properties.
The new material, vulcanized rubber,
became the modern wonder of the
world. It was of great value to
science, as it was to the decorative
and industrial arts. It proved to be
adapted to a greater number of pur¬
poses than any material ever employed
in construction. It effected a revolu¬
tion in more than a hundred old arts
and created new ones.
A rubber store, such as is found in
any of our large cities, is a museum
of curiosities. It embraces almost
every article formerly made of wood,
metal, clay or any vegetable or animal
substance.
It contains nearly everything that is
used from the cradle to the grave. In
it are nursing botdes, rings used by
infants in cutting teeth, toys for chil¬
dren, balls for youths, instruments for
surgeons and tools for all kinds of
artisans. Rubber goods now minister
to the wants of people of all ages.
Ours is the rubber age. Life has been
prolonged aud made more useful and
enjoyable by the use of a substance
obtained from the sap of a tree found
in a few tropica! countries. If Stanley
has found an immense forest of rub-
bor trees in the interior o( Africa, he
has discovered something much more
valuable than “King Solomon’s Mines”
or the great diamond fields. lie has
made himself the benefactor of the
entire human race.—[Chicago Herald.
The Making of Burial Paraphernalia.
The manufacture of burial para¬
phernalia is a most profitable industry
in this countn*. Enormous establish-
ments in New York, Boston and
Chicago are devoted to it. These con-
cerns turn out grave clothing in tlioue-
ands of different styles, varying in
cost from the “pauper robe” at $2.50
to the swe.lest kind of a garment for
cemetery wear at $100. Such costly
costumes—and the same remark ap-
Hes to nearly all such articles of dress
—are only “finished to the waist;”
which means that they have no trousers
nor skirts. Such equipments are su-
perfluous usually, inasmuch as a
casket ordinarily is opened only for
about one-tliird of its length. One
factory in the modern Athens employs
300 needle women who devote all their
time to making grave clothes, each
one of them being employed exclu¬
sively in constructing a single pattern,
of which duplicates are in this way
turned out at a wonderful rate of
speed—some of the dresses most
elaborate with lace work and embroid¬
ery.— [Washington Star.
Fisli-Lines Six Miles Long.
According to a contemporary, they
with fish-lines six miles long
Lake, Wisconsin, and
30,000 hooks on every line. If th ey
do not haul up 2000 fish every tim a
they lift a line they don’t think th ejr
are having very good luck. And every
fish will weigh from twenty to seventy
pounds. One of these fish-lines win
reach half-way across the lake. It j 3
stretched out into the lake by means of
boats, large buoys being attached to it
at intervals to keep it on the surface.
The 20,000 hooks, baited with pieces!
of meat or fish, are lowered to the bot¬
tom of the lake by snoods of the proper
length which are fastened to the main
line. It takes twenty boats, with iwo
men in each, to look after this big fish- j I
line. Each boat has 1000 of the snoodj
in its charge. These are tied to the I
main lino eighteen inches'apart, and to I
bait all the hooks once requires takes] not]
less than 1000 pounds of bait. It
the forty men and twenty boats teal
hours to set the line for the first time. I
After that the fishermen are employed |
in going over the line, hauling in the!
sturgeon that have been caught on nccesJ the]
hooks, and rebaiting where it is
sary. 70-pound sturgeon]
To haul in a
from the bottom of the lake is requires] an ej.]
citing piece of work; but it
more strength than skill, as the iucheil thl]
always ha3 the hook several
down his throat, having sucked bait!
and all down without any regard to!
consequences. There is no danger ojl
losing the fish unless the hook breaks,!
When the fish is hauled to the surface!
a gall’ as big as a meat-hook is
into one side of its head, and the
geon is hauled into the boat
knocked in the head with a
maul. The hook that captured it
cut out of its throat, rebaited,
thrown back into the lake. The
age catch of sturgeon is one to
ten hooks.
The fishermen know the
sections of the line which they
by the arrangement of the
These arc placed 10 feet apart,
one in 150 of them is painted red.
The space between the red
contains 1,000 hooks, The
are numbered and the boats are
bered. The boats work the
as their numbers correspond with
section numbers. While the
catch is one sturgeon to ten hooks, it
no uncommon thing for the
to find but one or two in the
section of 1,000 hooks. The very
section may contain the full
of 100, and perhaps more.
The Lake Winnebago sturgeon
highly prized among the
and others in the region. Its flesh
finer and of bettor flavor than the
or salt-water sturgeon of the
The fish sells at six cents per
retail. Large quantities are salted
smoked for use in the lumber-camps.
Cat Character.
The bent of the cat’s mind ws
pleasantly defined a few years ago bi
a writer in the London Spectator, win
said there could be no doubt as to th
view Puss took of the philosophy liJ
nature and Ufe . she iB quile 6alis
that the world and everything in
were made and exist for cats,
appears in all that well-bred and cared-
for cats do. and in every accent and
tone cf their voice Puss possesses her¬
self with the air of a proprietor of th®
best place and the best food; expects
to be waited upon; demands a shart
of every dish; and Iboks upon us as a
once her Providence and her
Cats are not demonstrative hk
do S s > an ^ do not submit to trainN
like d the horse. unbounded The dog affections, has been creiij and
ite Tvith
horse with almost human
but the cat still suffers uuder the
character that Button—who
have been acquainted with any rej
stable specimens of the race— gar
^ er - ®he is said to be selfish,
fu, » crueI > crafty, treacherous, lovin|
P IacftS a «d uot persons, and in ever]
wa y unworthy of fellowship in tl
household. J G. Wood answers h
accusations by saying that the
with which he ha# been most
iar “have been as docile,
and good-tempered as any dog
be, and displayed an amount of
lectual power which would be equal 0
by very few dogs, ami surpassed
none.” To all persons who have
their confidence to Puss and
hers in return, they need no ans* 0