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Census statistic* say that there is excess of 1,500,000 men over womeu in vbis country. “Where does all the gold go to? asks a paper. Well, responds the New York Tribune, 1800 pounds of it goes into people’s teeth every year, put there by the dentists. In this country 33,000,000 acres of land aro being farmed by irrigation. France owes its wonderful success in gardening to this system, and in late years Italy has spent over $200,000,- 000 for this purpose. The area of the arid region of the United States is about 1,300,000 square miles—one-third of the whole country. Mujor Powell estimates that 150,000 square miles of this, equal to half the preseiit cultivated area of the coun¬ try, may he reclaimed by irrigation within a generation. In Western Australia the cost of producing wheat is 50 cents per bushel with a double-furrowed plow. With a (luce or four furrowed plow, ami a corresponding saving in the u-e of larger harrows and improved har¬ vesting, this cost can be reduced by 12 or 20 cents per bushel. General Butterfield is responsible for the following story of Commo¬ dore Vanderbilt: Commodore Van¬ derbilt, the founder of the family and fortune, a man of great character and wisdom, was once asked what he con¬ sidered the secret of success. “Secret! secret!” he replied, “there is no secret about it; all you have to do is to at¬ tend to your own business and go ahead.” The London Lancet issues a word of warning to long-distance bicycle racers, alluding particularly to tho carriers of dispatches. It says, “In some instances such is the tension that the man literally propels himself in what may he called blindness. His legs work automatically, and his course is directed in a manner very little different.” It adds that man is not an engine of iron and steel, and that if he treats himself as one lie will soon become an engine so disabled that his better 6elf will fall into death before he lias reached wliat iu others better trained would he the prime period of vital strength and activity. “The most fertile Hold of the Mor¬ mon missionaries,” says the Boston Record, “has been in London, and all eflorts to stop the work of proselyting have proved futile. Among the mid¬ dle and the lower classes the oiiy- tongued elders fiud ready listeners and many converts. It is stated that one apostle annually sends over 500 con¬ verts, mostly English. The statement is probably true. The Mormon settle¬ ment is composed of foreigners and a few American thugs and baudits, who saw in the secret organizations like the Danites a chance just suited to their desires. The native-born con¬ verts to the Mormon faith arc few and far between. The scums of Europe offer a far more promising field to tho elders.” “The hog industry is immense,” said Mr. Joliu W. B akeley to the St. Louis Star-Sayings. “Statistics show 52,252,000 hogs in this country. There is lots of capital invested iu porkers. The fluctuation of a few ceuts per cwt. in prices means an enor¬ mous sum of money to hog raisers. If the average weight of hogs is but 100 pounds per head and values change but 1 cent, per 100 pounds, it makes a difference in the total value of over $500,000. If values fluctuate 10 cents per cwt. it means a chuuge o>f more than §5,000,000; while a change of 25 per cwt. moans a total value of the entire swine industry of over §12,- 500,000; while a drop of §1 per cwt. would mean a shrinkage in values of over §50,000,000 to the hog men of tho entire country, and a riss of the same proportion would add to their wealth the same amount. There is nothing in which farmers are inter- ested more than iu the fluctuations of hogs and hog product and yet few realize how large a sum of money is tossed up or down in the simple turn or change in the hog market of a few cents. There is no fanner who owns a hog hut participates in this ebb and flow.” Making of' the Rain, Charmed with the smile towards them turned, The waters of the ocean rise; Like incense on earth’s altars burned The mist floats up before our eves To form cloud draperies to the skies. And when the sky goes down at even His rays light up their underfold; We see the curtain shades of heaven Before the gates of light unrolled, With crimson lined and edged with gold, And later, when the stars are set Upon that field of azure blue, Like daisies or like lilies wet With crystal drops of morning dew, That misty veil their light shines through. Those vapory folds the landward breeze Fills like a spectral fleet of sail, Strong convoy on aerial seas— Over the mountain’s crest they trail, At moorings swing above the vale. But what shall hold these cloud-forms up When they shall see on hill and plain Each flower iift its empty cup? Bather, through sympathy with pain, Will they dissolve in tears of rain. —[Isaac Choate, B. in Boston Transcript. Nathaniel’s Love Storv. u BY DAISY BHODES CAMPBELL. Nathaniel Morrison swung liis scythe with a will. Each stroke seemed timed. The fact was, it moved to his thoughts. The young farmer was not given to day-dreams, but nowadays everything was changed. Today his thoughts rail on, though his lvork never faltered. If only the Winthrops hadn’t turned their place into a summer resort last year, everything might be as it was in those delightful days, which seemed now like a past Arcadia. Never had the meadows or orchards looked so beautiful—never had the wild flowers and ferns grown as they had when he and Hetty, free and unrestrained, wandered together to (he woods, or, mounted on their fleet horses, dashed down the road for a canter. Every day was full of Hetty. IIis work was planned to give the evenings to her, and he had hoped that 6he, child as she was, was learn¬ ing to care for him. The Stanfields lived the simplest of lives, and Hetty had been brought up to lend a helping hand to all kinds of domestic duties. But now since summer hoarders had invaded their beautiful countryside all was changed. Innocent, industrious, simple-hearted Hetty no longer cared for such a quiet, even round of duties and pleasures, as had hitherto been her lot. How 60 on she had become intimate with the Carters and Vails! How quickly she had learned new ways and those coquettish turns of her pretty head; and that little trick she had of dropping her eyes and rais¬ ing them, which seemed nowadays more conscious than of old. Then how quickly she had learned to dance! And what a belle she had been at tho parties at Winthrop’a. And here it was June again, and al¬ ready the season’s raid upon Win- tlirop had begun. But Hetty still lingered in the city with her new friends, the Vails. And handsome Arthur Vail, was, he supposed, her faithful shadow, and in the same city was that cool, cynical Philip Carter, who ban paid the little couutry girl so much attention. He supposed they would all come hack—Hetty among them—hut why did he want her to come? He surely did not enjoy heartache and madden¬ mg doubts and constant pain—oh, why couldn’t he give her up? Ilis work was a farmer’s, and, if Hetty longed for a more varied and change¬ ful life, and cared for men more pol- * s ^ed and versed in the world’s ways than he, why couldn’t he let her go a,u * scltie down to his loved domain and be conteut? “Now, mother, your lawn is im¬ proved, and Jako must run over it with the mower, and the grass sha’nt get so tali again,” ho said. Nathaniel’s mother, a sweet-faced, ■white-haired, yet singularly youthful woman of her age, stood on the broad piazza watching her sou. He was noted the country over for his care of his widowed mother, as well as I° r his success as a farmer, Ho had all the newest improvements in implements and architecture* for his laud and buildings. Only the old bomosiead remained the same, will* the addition of bay windows and pjuz- zas to its rather plain exterior. “Thank you, Philip, it must look its best for the summer boarders,” Mrs. Morrison replied, smiling, Philip frowned and turned away. He strode off and down the road to speak to one of the men. A quarter of a mile away was a lovely spot with tree and wild flowers everywhere. Here Philip bad planned to build a new lu>me some day—the homestead must he for his mother, Aunt Jane and his younger brother, now away at college. But here was to he a modern cottage to suit Hetty’s tastes. “Are you going to slight old friends?” called out a merry voice. And there was Eleanor Carter, mounted on a fine new thoroughbred, and smiling upon him. lie liked Miss Carter—she was so intelligent and original. They had exchanged hooks and thoughts. He was glad to meet her again. She was a stately, fair girl, with golden hair and deep gray eyes. Nathaniel thought her a beauty. He longed yet feared to a6k about Hetty, but Eleanor replied to his un¬ spoken wish: “The Vaiis came with us, and also xVLiss Stanfield. We’re to Lave a little dance tonight. You must be sure to come. I want to see if you’ve forgotten my lessons of last summer. There comes my brother now. I cut across country and reached this pike before lie did.” The gentlemen saulted; Miss Carter nodded a gay good-bye and was gone. Should he go and see Hetty? No, he would stay at home and count the cost of cultivating those new acres. It would he much more sensible than joining that gay party of city people. Yet, in spite of his resolution, Na¬ thaniel was at the Wiuthrops. He danced with Miss Vail and Miss John¬ son and Eleanor Carter. He asked for a dance with Hetty but she blushed and told him her card was full. It was only another excuse, he felt sure, yet Hetty had always been so truthful, so frank. He went home early, cursing his folly in not obeying his reason and staying at home. The next few days were full of hard work, and Nathaniel’s labors were never half clone. He felt grate¬ ful for his unusual strength, his large, well-proportioned body, his perfect health. What more could a man ask for than to be the owner of so many broad acres, a pleasant home, and plenty to do, that he must ho sighing for a wilful woman? One day a lamb was missing and Nathaniel set out to find it. At last a low bleating came to his keen ears, lie ran on. and there, down a steep ravine he saw the missing creature, lame from its fall and bleating forth its pain and trouble. Iu a moment he was by its side. He had provided himself as usual with ointment and linen. The legs were treated and bound. He picked up the trembling creature in his strong arms and climbed the steep ascent. When nearly at the top he felt a sharp wrench. He tried to put the lamb on a shelving rock, then lost his footing, and, slip¬ ping and falling, helpless with that keen pain iu his foot, his head struck something and he knew no more. When Nathaniel’s consciousness re¬ turned he thought at first that he had entered paradise, for bending over him was Hetty’s face, pale and fright¬ ened. She was bathing his head with water. As he looked into her eyes the color flashed into her face, 'd thought—I thought you were dead,” she faltered, and turned away. Na¬ thaniel was not yet sure whether he was on earth or in heaven, but he was a man, and the sight of Hetty’s agita¬ tion decided him to follow up his ad¬ vantage. He seized her hand; “Hetty, did you care?” lie demanded. “Of course I cared; haven’t we been friends all our lives?” she asked reproachfully, and trying to withdraw her hand. But he held it fast. “Tell me, are you to marry Arthur Vail or Carter?” he questioned eagerly. “Tell me aro you to marry Miss Eleanor?” Hetty asked saucily, for answer. “Oh, that is nonsense—you know very well Unit I never cared for any one hut you, Hetty; hut you are so changed, you seemed so tired of our | i country life.” A sharp pain in his ankle made him pause. lie knew now ! that he was still on earth, yet even the pain seemed as nothing to Hetty’s ; reply: “I thought you had tired of me; you know I am not clever or wise, • and there were others who could talk lo you so much belter,” faltered Hetty with downcast eyes. Nathaniel’s eyes opened wide in geuuinc astonishment: “Why, Hetty! I supposed that you always knew that I loved yon, hut I thought you liked those other fellows,” he said. “If you care for me now, just let us go hack to those old days when we were such good comrades, and perhaps in time you might care for me; do you think you could, Hetty?” Again the lovely eyes were dowu- cast. “No, I couldn’t,” murmured tho girl. “Oh, I ’ “Because—oh, Nat, you are so stupid for such a great splendid fel¬ low—because I love you already.” “Oh, Hetty!” But in n hat a differ¬ ent way that same exclamation can he uttered! Later, a demure young woman sent two of the men to help Mr. Morrison home, as he had met with an accident —sprained his ankle. She carried a lame lamb whose bleating first led her in.her fern hunt to the spot where Nathaniel lay helpless. People wander why Nathaniel Mor¬ rison and his pretty wife never would fill up the ravine when it interferred so with the field west of it, hut the ravine never betrayed its secret, eveii to me. — [Country Gentleman. Fate of au Educated Pig. Almost eleven years ago a famous hog of almost 6Uperporci»e intelli¬ gence was attached to the circus at St. Petersburg, Russia, where it basked iu the sunshine of fashionable favor throughout two gay winter seasons. T^is sagacious creature, at once a ready reckoner, fortune teller 1 and deft executioner of card tricks, was the property of one Tanti, a famous Italian clown, who had brought it up from infancy and taught it all its ac¬ complishments. One night he and his pig were hid¬ den to a gathering of young officers of the Russian Guard, supping to¬ gether after the performance, and were called upon to repeat the pro¬ gramme of the evening—of course, on payment of a handsome fee. At tho conclusion of the show one of the offi¬ cers offered Tanti $G00 for his pig. The clown declined to sell, pointing out that the docile animal constituted its chief source of income, and that, moreover, he was far too fond of it to part from it. 13 pon tli s the officers proceeded to tempt him by outbidding one another until they ran the price up to §3000. This sum, and the reflection that he could probably train another pig to replace the one thus exorbitantly val¬ ued, finally induced Tanti to accept the oiler, little thinking lo what a dis¬ mal fate he thereby consigned his pet. Next day the luckless animal was slaughtered by order of its purchaser and sent to tho clown’s lodging with with the message that “no doubt Sig¬ nor Tanti would like to taste a porker which had been so profitable to him in life and death alike.” Tho whole grim story, equally dis¬ creditable to all concerned in it, got wind in St. Petersburg, and made a painful impression upon Russian so¬ ciety. A severe reprimand was admin¬ istered to the officer whoso cruel freak has canned the death of a public favor¬ ite, and Tauti’s popularity sensibly declined. Oddly enough, a few weeks later he was fired at while cutting ca¬ pers in the ring by an eccentric Polish nobleman, whose bullet just missed the clown, burying itself in the saw¬ dust at his feet, and causing him such affright that he ran from the circus like one demented. When interrogated as to the motive of his extraordinary conduct, the Sar- matian magnate—a well-known spoils¬ man and patron of the circus—calmly replied that “having been much di¬ verted by the clown’s feats he had felt himself hound to fire a salute in Tan- ti’s honor.” Shortly afterward the re¬ cipient of this strange compliment quitted Russia. Quite Superfluous. Mr. Spooning—May I give you some little token which will help you to re¬ member me? Miss Tartlets—It isn’t necessary. I have that tired feeling. — [Chicago News Record. Cremation is becoming popular in Iialv. That country already ha*» twenly-two crematories. Iffy Saint. My saint is a saint that few may k now In that she Joes for us sinners below. She is fair as faithful and faithful as f a ; r With a halo encircling her beautiful Lair She is full of wiles and moods as an elf And yet is the spirit of truth itself, In And the well light for of him the who halo his about burden her can bear! hair. Her face is a mirror where men may read The truth that inspires her, thought a * deed. Her life is a life of devotion and care. And she has a halo about her hair. Her care is for others and not for herself. And naught She recks of profit or pelf, Enough fof her that her goal is won, And she knows not her halo is bright ai sun. All things she does from the splendid love That comes to her here from a power ahcJ And I who adore her can hardly dare To look at the halo about her hair. — TW\ L IT Prnrfnr in T.nnI j ” ----— - HUMOROUS. The man who knows it all hasld to learn. I for A fat butcher should ho an anomaj flesli] he is perpetually taking oil It isn’t the man who blows ni who finds it easiest to raise remaril the vij “A word for a blow,” the blacksmith, who had just ordol his boy to start the bellows. “It appears in railroad accitij the lit st and last cars are always ones injured.” “Why not leave (Ji off the train?” It is hard to please crerriod Some men complain because they J bald, and others because they flaw the price of a liair-cut. There was a fisherman polite I Whose manners were so fine, § I Where’er he went tocnlch a fish, He’d drop him first a line. 1 A quarter of an inch diflerencel the width of one’s shoes may turn! open-hearted philanthropist into! cranky and self-centred pcssiis/si I Jeannette—Does Miss Boartlmani her lovely complexion from herfuB or her mother? Gladys (swecllw From her father. lie’s in the dil business. j Mr. Naglcy—1 suppose you fliil you never made a mistake since vfl was horn. Mrs. Nagiev—I can’t* that, but I haven’t made many due* was married. j “In heaven there is neither mm ing nor giving in marriage,” qndfl Miss 'Wallflower. “Ilow heoveiiljH exclaimed Mr. Larimer, who it* confirmed old bachelor. i Baron—Then the obstreperous M gar whom you turned out of was coarse and abusive? Vaia Abusive, my lord? lie might W been your lordship himself. She may have a little of this world’s pei But life still pleasure brings, And that’s when she has a day to herself To go out pricing things. “Mabel, this question of marri*i a serious one that I Mabel—Oh, hope yon 'j considered well.” jes, auntie, I have worried sick already about my trousseau. Young Wife—What do you tbi® my pie-crust, Jack? Jack (' doesn’t wish to he as severe 3 s case warrants)—Very nice, nay ling; but didn’t you get the shorte* in lengthwise. Mother—Mary, go tip of in MraGj j and get that photograph h'H son and put it in that new the piano. Mary—Why, nioiltfhl do you want to put that homelfl thing there for? Mother—Shei*4 ing to visit us tomorrow. At a 6inall town in Kent a man employed a carpenter to pn’l partition, deaden and had the it sound. filled "h'J dust to was completed the gentleman carpenter pj ^ from one side to the other. “Smith, can you hear <1 Smith immediately answered: 1 sir.” 1 Wealthy Amateur—Since y oD _ to Jones and me about this |’ . Cadmium, we have arrange oH 1*-J of us will have it. (brightening)—I am glad of d j glad; glad your accoii 1 " on * Which of lias it? W. A® 4 you Well, wc are going to pitch up and the otic that loses takes 1 turc. It is claimed that the large* 1 dock in tho world is at lkr ,nl, j is 381 feet long and 123 feet