Crawfordville advocate. (Crawfordville, Ga.) 189?-1???, April 12, 1895, Image 2
THE COUNTRY MAID. Her eyes tho sun-kissed violets mate. And fearless is their gaz», Bh- moves with graceful, careless gait Along the country ways, Th< roses blushing in her cheek, That ne'er decay or fade, Her laughter gay. her words, bespeak A simple, eouutry maid, No flashing gems adorn her hair Nor clasp her illy neck,. Nor jeweled circlets, rich and rare. Her sun-browned hand liedeek; But pearly teeth through lips as red As reddest rubles gleam; The tresses o’er her shoulders spread A golden mantle seem. Her looks arc kind, and sweet the smile That sparkles In her eyes; Her mind, her heart, am free from gullcj Sho Is not, learned or wise. No worldly url, no craft has sho Acquired, her charms to aid; And yet she stole my heart from mo. This simple country maid. —{JhambereJournal, TIB’S BISCUITS. O think that thcro should linvo ever been a time when I wish¬ ed to say ■ £ othy “No” Knigh¬ to Dor¬ 3 ton, when she asked if she might come for a walk with me 1 Not that sho was at all a forward girl, yon will see that when you understand tho circumstances, but tho fact remains that sho preferred such a request, ami that l wished to say “No.” I had only known her a week, hut that had been more than long enough for mo to fnll in love with her. Hho was such a bonny girl, neither tall nor short, neither dark nor fair, not strictly beautiful, and certainly vory far from being plain, with hair which was brown without being dull, with eyes which wore blno without being oolil, with a quaintness and straight¬ forwardness about her—tho outcome of her Colonial training that alto¬ gether took my heart by storm, and made her unlike any othor girl I had ever como across. I hod nooopted an invitation to stay with my godfather (ho was also my mother’s cousin) instead of going to my home, which was a long way from Oxford. Although I had nover seen him, ho had always ftilflllhd my ideal of a god-parent. As wo had never met, he ootild not bo supposed to teach mo tho catechism, but never a birth lay came round but he sent me a five pound note, which was acceptable even now, perhaps more so to tho Ox¬ ford nndergaduate than to tho small boy a( homo with ovory waut sup¬ plied. And now that I was nearing tho cud of my time at the University, and was reading hard for my finals, iu which I hoped to do well, it seemed as if he wore about to help me to the crowning joy of my life \*y introduc¬ ing me to his niece, Dorothy Knigh ton She had ju# arrived from Australia on a visit, and *o was almost as a stranger to her undo as I was, only t hat she hod a fortnight’* start of me. But how fond he waa of her 1 Both he and bis wife viod with caoli other iu trying to give her pleasure; they drove her about to soo all the sights iu tho country round, and presented tier with an heirloom, iu the shape of a lovely emerald pendant, which looked daerding on her white neck when she wore it one evening to show Ms. Hho returned tlieir kindness by singing their favorite songs to them, and following them about the grounds and conservatories day after day, in a desultory fashion, which must have been rather monotonous, though to this childless old oouplo it was their chief But delight. in spite of her brightness I was not at all sure that she was happy. The very first morning 1 was there I noticed a wistful look in her eye* ot breakfast; and on the third morning, by which her time I thought a good deal about eye*, I was convince! that she had some secret Borrow, What ’could it be? It was true that she had left her parents in Australia, but n visit to England bo! always been, she fcaid, tho acme of her desires, and sho fool had a delightful voyage. Hhe ex pressed buildings herself charmed with the old and the ruins she had seen, aBd the character of the Eugliih Men cry, all of which was so new to her, but there must have been something that aid not come up to her expedta Dons. Or, was it and hero the thought caused me to put down my cup of coffee hastily could it be she had met some ono on board from whom she regretted being parted! It was possible -nay. probable. And if But thisystheoaMS still Hue Mover what t iik<vl oh me'had about nay one in particular, and os she was gen vrallv pretty bright, and it was only xiow and then that I surprised this wistful look, 1 began ta hope that I might be wrong iu my surmises. At any rate, there was uu reason why 1 should not do wv hot t > win her. But this is a long digression, and 1 must go back to that September morn mg when she fell-wed me out into the oak-panelled ball as soon ss we had risen from the breakfast table, and said; ’Mr. Lowndes, if you are going into the town, may I come with you? 1 watt to go to some shops." There was a little town three miles away to which I had announced my in tention of paying a visit, but what I did not bargain for was the company of Miss Dorothy Knighton. It was fortunate that she was behind me when she asked the question, so that she did not see how my face fell; and by th« time I turned "to answer her 1 had regained control of my features. “Need you ask?" I replied; and in dead, in spite cf my wish that she would remain at h » j. - a thrill of triumph shot turoug cr me at the thought that she had asked me of her own accord; and the vision of my rival, which was ever before me, grew less. So we set out along the dustv road, she a trim, co>l figure in her boll and frock, with a gl a i look on her face which it did mv heart good to see. I “What a lovely cld place this is,” she remarked, as we went down the long avenue of ancient elms which led j to the ledge gate. “It quite comes up to my idea of ‘ancestral ha! us with turrets and a moat, toe, it doe* 1 look old—doesn’t it? And everything is so beautifully kept! They seem to have quite a retinue of servants, and thoy’ro as old as can be. I suppose they take wages, but I expect they would be very much surprised if aunt gave any of them notice. It seems so funny to me, for with us six months is generally the length of their stay." So she rattled on, losing a good deal of the slight stiffness with which she had hitherto addressed me, and making me forget that the fact of her presence rendered my walk into the town a fruitless one. However, when we reached L - she stopped abruptly. “Now, Mr. Lowndes, l’vo got some shopping to do, and you won’t want to be hanging about after me, so we’il just go our own ways, and meet, heir, at this corner, at 12, if that will do?" “Very well,” I said, I hoped not too eagerly, and wo parted. about the I did not know my way place at all, but when driving through from the station on my arrival I bad notioed somo of the shops, among them a tobacconist’s rind a confection¬ er’s. Then were several objects of interest in the town, and so this latter shop was well provided with little tables nt which the trippers lunched and had tea. I found my way into it, and though it was early for refresh¬ ment tho walk had been a hot one, and I passed into tho inner room where they attended to my wants. 1 had been there about half an hour when I threw dowu tho local paper which I bad been studying, and after paying my bill paused into tho outer shop. There, facing tho counter, which at this early hour was rather empty, stood Dorothy Knighton. “I've had three buns and a glass of milk," she was saying; and thou she gave n tremendous start when sin heard ray voico, “I didn’t see yea pass," sho went on. “I suppose you saw mo through tho window,” a speoch which convinced mo that she was unaware that I had been so near her all the time. Sho took her change, and wo stepped out onto tho pave¬ ment together. But hero sho again dismissed me. “I’ve still got somo moro walked shopping to do," she said, and sho off. This was a little abrupt, I thought, hut my toolings were mixed, and so f lot her go anil strolled off down a side street. I bought some tobacco, and walked on till f found a grooer’s shop. It was a poky little place—by should no moans the best in the town, I imagine, but it would answer rov purpose, at least, I hoped so, and I onterod—but there again stood Dorothy, holding in her hand a biscuit from which sho had just bitten a nice little half moon. “Yes, these will do, thank you. Throe pounds, please.” Ami as ftlio said this sho turned and saw mo. It was too lato to draw back, and I was glad I had not ilono so when I saw how tho pretty color flushed into her face at tho sight of mo; yet I had a feeling that she was not quite pleased. "Ob, Mr. Lowndes I" sho exclaimed. “What do you want?" “Somo biscuits," 1 stammerod out, "for "For tb^dsjig.” (Pbl How kif;d of you* but ) Pm ; wetkiiH soma, gp V 1 won’t Waut ! will lie? fie*ules; thoy'll lu such a bother to carry—oh, yes, I’ll take them with me, please," sho added, quickly, “I’ll to the shopman, said, quito carry them," I ns quickly, and tlio luattor was settled thus. “But are you going now?” I asked. “It is only 11 o’clock. Haven’t yon any more shopping to do?” “No,” she laughed, “I have got nil I want, thank you.” I couldn't Iliad not; however, say so, or keep lier waiting about, so I turned homoward without another word. How merry she was. Hho didn’t seem to have a thought or care in tho world, Hho Uiis evidently thoroughly enjoying her walk, and her high spirits so infected mo that 1 shook my fist, metaphorically, ut I my unknown rival, and felt that was gaining ground. With such a hope before me, there was muoh I eoill l endure for her sake. We drnwdlod so muck cm tho way homo that it was nearly lunch time when we reached the house. Her aunt’s voioa was heard calling her, and Dollio sped away, leaving sue with tlia bag of biscuits, I put them down on a side table iu tlio hall, and went up to my room, l’reseutly tho gong sounded. What, s goug it was I How it resounded a:ul reverberated through the house, pen etrating the thick oak doors and call mg up viaiou* of good thitigs, I has j rate toned of dowu the parish, to find to a whom visitor, l took the cu- an J intense dislike—an uufounded ono I found afterwnrds-bnt there was j plenty meal, and of my conversation dear old godfather during was the ; planning an expedition to a show castle iu the.neighborhood. “There’s a wonderful oak tree there planted by Queen Elizabeth. They stink') tho chips into brooches set iu gold, and sell them for the benefit, of the Church Restoration Fuud. You must have one, Dorothy, my dear,” And Dorothy smiled her thauks. “Well, wlmt shops did you young people patronise iu L this morn ing ?” he went on to say. “Oh, Miss Knighton bought some--” “Will you pass me tho mustard, j please, Mr. Lowndes,” broke iu that ’ young lady, absolutely fixing me with her eye, and so astonishing me that 1 left luy sentence, which was meant to be s chaffing allusion to the weight of the-biscuits, unfinished. It was evi i dent that she had interrupted mo on purpose, for she then took the con versation into her owu hands, and be wihlered the unfortunate curate with questi ,,ll ,s about his parish. 1 w atched, rather sullenly, the preparations for Tib’s dinner, a process which went on at intervals during the meal, and we were sometimes asked to leave bits for him. Our feelings at this request will be better understood later ou. 1 mav add that Tib was an ugly brate cf a dog, whom, however, at times, 1 en vied. Immediately after lunch the visitor rose to depart, and we all lowed him out into the bail. He was rather a dreamy individual, and 1 was not sur>>r;*« ,1 r bear that he could not ree.u mber where he had put his hat. It ua- eventuallv fouuJ on the top of the biscuits, which Mr. Knigh ~ ton took up as well, asking : “Does this belong to you also, Mr. Jones?” “That -oh no!” “It m like a grocer’s parcel," said Mrs. Knighton. "Why, they arc biscuits J Where can they have come from?” “I bought them, aunt,” said a de mure voice, Thero was a pause, and then Dorothy added, rather faintly it seemed to me, “I thought Tib would Iiko them.” “How very kind of you, my dear. But such h quantity. What a naughty, extravagant girl you are ! He’ll make himself quite ill. I must tell the ser¬ vants not to give him too many at a time.” “Mayn’t I give them to him, aunt? He’ll enjoy them ever so much better. They might be kept some¬ where where I can get at them.” “Yes, dear; but they had better be put in a tin. Here, Johnson,” to tho butler who was passing, “jnst bring something to put these biscuits in. They’re nicer crisp," sho finished, turning to Dorothy. “Yes, they are,” was the answer, with a lij> that certainly quivered a little. Tho butler brought a large, old fashioned plated 'canister, in which tho “Captains”—as they turned out to be—were deposited. I wondered Dol lio bad not brought something moro appetizing for tho pampered beast; howover, it was no business of mine if sho chose to waste her money on things ho wouldn’t eat, and if he con¬ trived to choke himself I couldn’t help it. Well, the week passed away with many ups and downs; Tib was fed re¬ ligiously aftor every meal, but it seemed to me that ho did not appreci¬ ate tho biscuits; indeed, I thought it was foolish to try him with them when ho had but just demolished a plateful of “everything” ia the dining¬ room. it needed a good deal*of per¬ suasion to get him to attempt them at nil. Dollio said the best way was to keep nibbling at ono all tho time her¬ self, it made him think it must bo something dainty. 1 offered to nib¬ ble, too, but she would only give mo a small piece; sho said tho biscuits would go too fast, and that sho couldn’t afford to make Tib another present. I did not soo why sho need, but I suppose sho did it to please her aunt. I wish sho caroil as much whether I was pleased or not. I began to fear that my society was by no moans suf¬ ficient to make her happy, for towards tho end yf the week her spirits flagged perceptibly. Once m6re I was haunted by visions of my rival; indeed, I bo camo convinced of his existence. I had been out shooting ouo day with Mr. Knighton. Wo had como in late, and so lunched nlouo. Tho keen air had given mo an appotito which was us iisu—Urn—which was unappeased when I rose from the taldo. In the hall a happy thought struck mo. I would have ono of Tib’s biscuits. It was flio servants’ dinner-hour, i knew, so that I ran no risk of being disturbed. With a last glance round, therefore, nt the closed doors, I raised tho lid of the cauistor, but it was nearly empty. There were only three biscuits left, and those I was rapidly transferring to ray pocket, when u door appeared! opened close to ino, and Dorothy l (ipon-moiithod, ; ... I , fear, and stood certainly irresolute; guilt, I am sure, waa written oil every feature of my countenance. For ono moment Dorothy paused, her bl no oyos opened wider,- then she bogan to laugh. Hho laughed till her pretty face was crimson, sho laughed till tha tears rolled down her cheeks, and she sank exhausted on a bonch; thou sho gaspo 1 out: “Why—I—beliove—you’ro hungry too ! Ok, let’s shake hands, I’m so glad. I aliau’t mind half us much now. You poor hungry man, and you’re so big, too. Como ami eat them iu here,” dragging mo into the adjoining billiard room, “Yon know they’re nicer crisp," and she went off" into another peal of laughter. “But tho tiu’s omjity, who’s eaten them ?” I asked. “Why 1 have! Did you think I lived ou a cutlet a day, or uncle’s helping of ham at breakfast? (q; t dear 1” And thou we sat down au l talked tho matter out. Why our dear old friends kept such »scanty table wo could not tell. They were generosity itself in everything else. l’erhaps they were unused to young people’s appetites. Anyhow, the fact remained that a dish of the fiuiest outlets often comprised the meat course, and wo now confessed hoiv bad wc had both foJt wheni {ot the take of ood m#uucr<t declined a second and Uu , 8olo roma ining cutlet, we oaw it "fj , , ^Vat di', ,.ii it oue ’ sai l ' p l)rot hv. ' “I thought you looked rat i, or SM \, but I put it down to some thi olst , i couldn’t imagine how yoH cou ld live on w hat you ate. bat ’ erful it, I you VVl . r ,, N0 obe about con ’ tho family—the cluJoa j t was in ap petite I moan!” h1 | s j K , p ai j j ia ,j t | 10 w - or st of , t Comiug straight to them from a OU g voyage, with a healthy sea ap ,, 0 tite sho literally could not get CUOURh 0 *t, and sho was too much ,)y,,|-awod by tho unusual grandeur of ie r surroundings to ask for more. However> a ll this was altered now. We had many « good square meal at tlj0 confectiouer’s, going to L- l>v rcui t ous rou tes, so as to nvoid being ,j UO stionoG as to why we went there g0 of(e „ XV e had luxurious private stort auimitv’ , s t „ Hlj so watched with the lost outlet departing iu solitary grandeur ou its silver high- dish. But our spirits were always «t water w-,ijd mark. Some mouths after when my exam, was over and I had come off with questio'n living colors, j llsked Dorothv a to which 6 ho was pleased to auswer “ves." “I will spend mv life in* tuakin nl [ ',’ -> ; assured her * il!,’* she replied. ..j tu v vou w »<p rom \., experience I believe vou w ill ahvs the 0il d cutlet for me." Black and White ’ lm m _ ,, . , , , ,. ** rb5n „ Near Mouiins, France, recently a bull gave the occasion for testing the power of the Lebel carbine. The sol diers were called out to kill the bn", A bullet from an army gun entered at the bull’s shoulder and came out a: the crupper, completely traversing the bull's body; the large bones were pierced with round holes without splintering, It is believed that the ballet would have passed thtongh eight men iu a ro New Kork Sun. FASHION’S FOIBLES. WHAT SOCIETY WOMEN WEAR AT THE NATION’S CAPITAL. Popularity of Neck Bands—Rhine¬ stones and Silver the Rage of the Day—Mrs. Cleveland’s New Portrait. & ANDOR pretty, ested the Iste person says compels fad in to fashion collars confess a disinter¬ writer is that not a in the Washington Star. It was the Princess of Wales who set the pace with it. For years and years she wore the “dog collar” of black velvet, which bade fair to strangle woman¬ and kind before it died out a little, now comes the crush collar, and the collar of jewels, worn first by the Princess, At some of the recent receptions in official life the bands of red velvet twisted abont fair necks would have suggested innumerable sore throats and kerosene and flannel, if it had not been that the v* Vet was sewn with precious stones. 'If is not a pretty fashion, and it will soon go out, for all but the dowagers with double chins and the wrinkle about the neck that comes one for every ten years of one’s age after twenty-five. If the neck is fit to be bared at all, it needs no banding of jewels or harness of velvet to enbanep its be uty. There is something incongruous about a toilet where the/shoulders are bared and tho throat*’ had a yard of dry goods tied refuseslto abonii it. Tho debutante sensibly insteld adopt the muffler, but wears a slender, thread like gold chain, with a dainty pendant, such as a pansy with a ilia mond heart, or a* ruby heart with a golden arrow piercing it, Another pretty pendant is a cluster of forget me-nots in blue jsnamol, or dead gold set with turquoises, to represent the lover’s flower. As a gago d’amour V •it V&2 &£ 5V;’ M wx i ^ a J m ifllli ► mm m ' 1 I St \ Jfp uMgggj GINGHAM GOWNS FOR SPRING. these forge ie-nots are quite tho favorites, aPJ como in lockets, pendants, rings and pins. Just now tiiere is a perfect craze for rhinestone ornaments. The tops of side comb* are set with them, and the knot at the top of beauty’s head has a dogger with a hilt iuerusted with them. From there down to the toe of tho pointed slipper every buckle and pin, in sight and out, 1 b set with tho imitation diamond. Evon the hook on the bit of a satin girdle, called by courtesy a corset, has stockings a gem set on its top, and the silk that accompany olaborato tea gowns have rare laee insertion set iu the in¬ step, and this lace is spangled with jewels 1 They are “only imitation,” but they cost a lot. Silver grows in favor in my lady’s estimation, as well as in Congress. Tho woman who cannot afford to carry around three or four pounds of silver is not doing her duty. It en¬ ters into her hairpins, buckles, card case, pocket book, lorgnette, opera glasses, the dangling chains and bon bou boxes, umbrella handles, bag and bundle markers—in fact, there is scarcely an article of attire into which a woman does not introduce some sil¬ ver. It isn’t an extravagant idea, either. Silver never wears out and never goes entirely out of fashion, and gathers beauty and value with age if its workmanship is of a high order. “Sweet violets” are as omnipresent as rhinestones. Wnole bonnets are made of the French confections by sewing the single flowers thickly over a shape, and a bridle of singly twisted violets passes under the chin. For the tiny opera boauet two bunches are affixed over each' temple to a slender band of velvet, much after the fashion in which the wife of the Chinese min¬ ister wears her curious collection of artificials, and the back of the frivol is fastened by a big bow of ribbon. The bow is not quite os big as a Gaines borough hat, bat as it comes exactly in the range of vision of the one just behind this bow might just as well be a bandbox, for it shuts off the stage effectually. “Some in rags, and some in tags, and some in velvet gowns," is the ■way the old jingle ran. It runs the same way now, only that the velvet is more common. For a study in blaek and white, a gown of black velvet striped with white satin is extremely elegant. It has the glove fitting cor «S*. th< l I**** 4 ? n bodices, has an odd little pannier effect that is particularly becoming to slender peo pic. The last picture tqkenjof the cab inet women represents Miss Herbert a pannier gown, and it makes her look like s Dresden china shepherd 'f-, Ano lhe r 9° vm in which Miss Herbert looks , , remarkably .well has muine straps over the low shoulders. It is muttered that the hoop is About to appear. The dress skirts are made so heavy with crinoline that they are a burden to carry, flopping around the lesr«. and from running in the bottoms of the gowns to fastening them on tapes by themselves is a short stop. But. then, the boned skirts art graceful, and th hoopskirts are ex actlv the opposite, so it ia to be hoped that the heavy skirt will be aban doued, and then we shall not nee! the too - mbs. Cleveland's new portrait. The new portrait ot Mrs. Cleveland, gays the New York Tribune, shows that lady to have become a matron of plnmp proportions. Her pretty col¬ oring remains, but her face is losing its girlish contour, has lost much of its charm. But the expression is gen¬ tle and kind as ever. # Mrs. Cleveland is much absorbed in caring for her children, who are healthy and merry youngsters. They iCj i| W 1 I f grj f m ///J ~ l s m § MRS. Cleveland’s latest picture. are said to look like her. The por¬ trait of the young mother, herewith presented, is from a copyright photo¬ graph by Bell, of Washington. Five-FIngere! Japanese Oranges, The five-fingered orange of Japan is a queer thing. It grows exactly in shape of a human hand, with a thumb and four fingers. It is a half-open hand, that of this curious fruit, and the close resemblance to a loan, long nailed Chinese hand, is startling, Even tho nails are identical, hard pointed, and claw-like, tipping the orange fingers with a length equal in some cases to three inches. It is no interloper in a well-regulated regular family of oranges, but a member, be¬ longing to the osage variety. little The orange tree is a ragged shrub that does not averago more than five or six feet in height. It does not grow straight, as a properly be¬ haved tree is supposed to do, but is ourvod everywhere. It would be very difficult to find two consecutive inches in the entire tree whose line of direc¬ tion is the same. Even the branches grow iu epiral forms, so that the width of tho tree is often as great as the height, There is a generous the leaves, sup¬ ply of thorns hidden under and they are thorns that mean busi¬ ness. They are slender, tough, and long, and are located in all sorts of unexpected places. The leaves are fleshy, long, and narrow and of a dark green color. They resomblo a lemon leaf more than an orange leaf. The flowers come out in Juno and July, and are very similar in appearance and odor to the ordinary orange blos¬ soms, save that instead of the familiar creamy white color tliay have a del¬ icate pinkish tint which is very beau¬ tiful. They commonly grow in clus¬ ters of two or three blossoms on al¬ ternate nodes of the branch. C 0 ■O ts tV 'll l\ Ptt THE FIVE FINGERED ORANGE. - The fruit itself is of a light yellow color a pure lemon hue, growing greenish toward the stem. relatively Xhe size is immense, considered to other oranges or to the size of tho tree, the largest ones measuring when mature fully ten inches from the wrist to the point of the middle ting er, including the nail, ft is always necessary to furnish a support in the way of props and strings to sustain the growing fruit, or the limb will be broken by the weight. The frnit is not edible—none of the osage variety is—but what it lacks in being nanble to tickel the palate it more than makes good ia perfume. The strangest thing connected with the perfnme is that it is the fruit and not the flower that ta most odorous. The fruit when ripe is so redolent that its scent can be recog nized a full mile from where the or auge is growing. -Han Francisco Chronicle. BUDGET OF FUN. HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM VARIOUS SOURCES. NU Desnerandum—Borrowed Plume.* —Run Down—Just the Man He Wanted—In the Year 2000, Etc., Etc. He who has vainly toiled for fumo Should never give up hope; He yet may live to see his name In aa ad. for somebody’s York soap. Press. —New BUN DOWN. Faith—“What are the silent watches of the night, anyhow?” Harold—“Those that wo forget to wind up. ”—Truth. JUST THE MAN HE WANTED. Editor—“Do you know how to run a newspaper?” Applicant—“No, sir.” “Well, I’ll try you. I guess you’ve had experience. ”—Puck. BORROWED PLUMES. Debutante—“What exquisite china the de Jones’s have.” Old Stager—“Rather. It looked so much better at de Smythe’s last week, though. De Smythe’s mahogany table rather sets it off.”—Life. IN THE TEAR 2000. First Advanced Woman (triumph¬ antly)—“I’ve caught a mouse!” Second Advanced Woman—“Good! Let’s take it into the next room where the men are and scare the life out of them.”—Chicago Record. CHILDISH REALISM. Mamma (in the next room)—“Why are you saying you are five years old, when you know you are eight?” Child— “We’s only playing.” “Playing what?” “Playing cars.”—Good News. HIS REVENGE. Morton—“Is Miss Casey in?” Butler—“No, sir. She Has gone out walking with a young man.” Morton—"All right. Just tell her that I came around with a four-in hand to take her for a drive.”—Truth. WANTED IT VERIFIED. He—“1 heard a fellow say the other night that he thought almost any one could kiss you.” She—"The wretch! Did you knock him down ?” He—“No. I thought I would call and see you about it first.”—Phila¬ delphia Life. HALF-BAKED AUTHORS. Walford— “You say that when he died Johnson’s work was not thought to be well done?” Professor Morgan—“There were some critics who said so. ’’ Walford—“Probably that is why they wrote above his grave, ‘Rare Ben Johnson. ’ ”—Philadelphia Life. A I*RETENDER. “I’m afraid,” said the writer to the magazine editor, "that I can’t give yen any more Napoleon anecdotes. ” “Why not?" “I can’t think of any more." “And yet you come into tho employ of this concern with pretensions ns a man of original ideas I"—Washington Star. SOCIETY AS SHE IS REPORTED. New York Reporter— ‘ ‘There’s going to be a swell wedding next week, you know. * * New York City Editor -"I’d almost forgotten it. Get your false whiskers and your jimmy and your detective camera, and let’s have at least a column a day shout it.”—Washington Star. CONTEMPT OF COURT, Lawyer—“I ask your Honor to fine for oontempt of court. ” me Judge—“You have not shown any contempt of court, Colonel.” Lawyer—“Perhaps not, sir, Out I’ve been feeling it all the same,while your Honor was sitting down on my author¬ ities and overruling my points.”— Truth. A SOLITARY SPECIMEN. “What is his distinction in litera¬ ture?” “Don’t you know?” “No. Never saw anything of his printed.” the He is the “That’s just point. only man who ever had a poem de¬ clined without ‘thanks.’ ”—Washing¬ ton Star. THE DEAR CHILD. Mr. Kidder—“That baby will drive me mad! Five o’clock in the morn¬ ing, and it howling the time down !” Mrs. Kidder (soothingly)—“But, John, the dear little thiDg never woke once during the night.” blame Mr. Kidder—"Yes, gosh it! I guess that’s what makes him so mad.”—Puck. A BLESSING. “How do you like the new board¬ ing house?” Oldboy—“Ccalcn’j be improved on ; there’s never enough of anything for all!" “Great Scott! Why do you like it, then?” “There’s nothing fer hash.”— Cleveland Plain Dealer. AN IMPRUDENT MOTE. “We made a great mistake in dis¬ charging that servant girl," said Mrs. Lowskip disconsolately. “What else was there to do?" asked her husband. “We should have left her alone, She’d have quit in a week or so, just like the others. Now she’ll stay out of spite.”—Washington Star. A CUNNING PATIENT. Mmler meets his friend . Nagel at the Turkish bat h«. Each is troubled with * gouty foot and has been ordered massage by hta doctor. Daring the operation Muller cried out lustily with pain, whilst Nagel maintained a stolid composure, greatly to Mnller s astonishment, who afterward asked bim: “How could you stand the rubbing go quietly ? Didn’t it hurt you atrociously ?” smilingly “Nothing of the kind,” replied Nagel. “I simply held out, my healthy foot!"—Lnstig inasttor.. > A FEAST OF REASON. Prison Official—“Are they Hatching a conspiracy in the shoe department? There was too much talk going on there to-day. ” Assistant -“That’s all right. Some • of the shoemakers were expressing their views on the higher criticism, and others were discussing the prob¬ able effect of gold exports on the stock market.”—Puck. HIS HIDEOUS NIGHTMARE. “0-o-oh! What’s tho matter?” *xf~ claimed Mrs. Olosephist, springing hiw.- »p* out “of sound sleep and shaking husband. sput “Oh, that was awful!’’ he “What was awful?” “Why, I dreamed that a fellow came along and borrowed $10 from me!”—Chicago Record. WHERE “HIS WHISKERS” WAS. College Student (hearing his clam mate, who rooms next door, coming down the dormitory hall) — “Hullo,, Ned! That old fossil with along gray beard who has been chasing around, after you all day long was here again half an hour ago. I told His Volup¬ tuous Whiskers that you would be in, probably, in about an hour/’ Ned (unlocking his door)—'“Yes; I met him in the quad. He’s ln^ie with me now.”—Somerville Journal. Type ot the Blind. Braille is the raised type by which reading matter for the blind is stamped or embossed on paper. The work of the Howe Memorial Press, which prints publications for the blind, has been carried on with efficiency and’ regularity, and the following books have been issued during the year: George Eliot’s “Adam Bede,” in tliTeg volumes; Elementary Arithmetic, compiled by Mabel Townsend ; Collar and Daniell’s Beginner’s Laiin Book in two volumes, and Latin-Englisli Vocabulary; Landon’s Pianoforte* Method, volume two; Mary P. Web¬ ster’s Preparation for Harmony; W. S. Matthew’s Standard Series, grades one; Bach’s Fifteen Two-Voiced In¬ ventions andThree-Voiced Inventions ;■ Selected Hymns. Several pieces of sheet music for voice, band and piano¬ forte have been printed, There are now in press a Latin-English Lexicon and Ceesar’s Commentaries. A supply of new type has been cast, and a sec¬ ond stereotyping machine has been added to the appliances of ,the print¬ ing department. Every one who reads this report for 1891 of the Per¬ kins school in Massachusetts should see the remarkably ingenious print¬ ing which the able Superintendent Twentieth of our Philadelphia school at and Ray streets has done here. Sat urday is tho day when visitors are: most welcome there and the work both in handicrafts and in other studies is; not only astonishing, it makes ono thankful to be living in an age that does so much and invents so much for the formerly helpless.- New York Ad¬ vertiser. The Loggers ol the Northwest, "When it comes to standing intense cold and working steadily in a tem¬ perature considerably below zero the Eskimo is not in it with the logger of the Northwest woods,” said F. H. Whiteside, of Saginaw, at the Nation¬ al yesterday. "All through the re¬ cent bitter weather the pine and hem¬ lock and birch of the great forests out my way have been falling before the axes of the hardy loggers, and theu being hauled over the snow to the nearest stream or Jogging railroad to be carried to the mills when the spring thaw comes. They are a happy, lively set of fellows, too, and they enjoy their nights out there in tho frigid wilderness as much as the same spirits would enjoy them in more favored localities. They have their songs and music and sometimes a gro¬ tesque play is produced at a camp, which will be attended by men from all the other camps in the neighbor¬ hood, and neighborhood out there means anywhere within fifteen or twenty miles, Eastern people have heard a great deal about the frightful immorality of Western lumber camps, but of late year3 this feature of the life has been almost entirely eradicat ed. But gambling is a passion with most of them, and there are some regular gamblers who go into the woods when winter approaches and work as loggers simply for the pur¬ pose of winning the money of their less skillful mates. When such a pro¬ fessional is discovered, however, you can Test assured that he is pretty sutn marily dealt with.” — Wasliington Star. A Sleepy Old City. In one respect Washington fa be' hind every modern city, and that is in the handling of mails. No mails are taken up after 9 o’clock, not even at the hotels. If you post a letter anywhere alongbetweeu8er9 o’clock it is likely to remain there until morning, although mail trains are de¬ parting ali night. The only way you can get a letter off with certainty in the evening is to send it or take it to the railway station and post it on the mail car. And this is at the fountain head of the United States Mail Service. They expect a man to finish business during office hours and to go to bed early. You have scarcely time to get an after-theatre lunch before you are summarily ejected from the restau¬ rant and must -go home; and as the cars all stop running shortly after¬ ward you really mast go home or else walk, or hire a cab. it seems funny to a metropolitan to have to break for the last car before fairly finishing an after-sapper cigar.—Pittsburg Dii patch. __ Most Beantilni ot the Blackbirds. Most beautiful of the native blaek '-r rl ° e ** . ,, ' , .".In ■ jarge m o ! aiou e par s sl> .ng, adays^old to epicures and othera.pre soma y o se mane in o p e . e :amous pre > > ' King would cost something over $• ttt * h e ^f«at reU,i pnee of the graekk.-New , lork Sun. .