Newspaper Page Text
attt m &
1T. B. MI2TCEY, Editor.
VOL. II.
In the North eloquent stump speakers
are now known as “spell-binders," after
an organization recently started in New
York.
_
Hop growing is on the decline in Eng¬
land, the area devoted to that crop in
1888 being eight per cent, less than dur¬
ing 1887._
After all the sanitary engineers have
done, the average mortality of the cities
is twenty-five per cent, greater than that
of the country;
There has beeii no time in the, Vistory
bf this fcountry; Asserts the Omaha
Herald, when assassination was more
rampant than now.
According to official information tho
Soudan trade before the troubles with
% Moh'V', Arab followers began was
ill $10,000,000 a year to England.
The present Georgia Legislature con¬
tains more farmers than any of its recent
predecessors. There are sixty-nine
farmers in the House, against forty-six
lawyers. _
In Mexico the word God does not ap¬
pear in the Constitution or laws. Con¬
sequently a constitutional protest which
is equivalent to the oath of office is used
at an installation of officials.
A Chinaman who, after several years’
residence in this country, returned to
China, has been telling his countrymen
that the Americans worship a mysteri-
9us being who is called All Mi-T Do! Lar.
The highest death rate among white
people in this country is 23.55 per thou¬
sand in New York, where there are 10. 37
people to a dwelling. At Newark, N.
J., With 7.26 people to the dwelling, the
mortality is 16.49.
Says a New York expert in sporting
matters: “There isn’t a fight, wrestle,
towing match, funning match, horse
trot or sword contest on the square these
days. Everything is ‘cooked’ before¬
hand, and ‘cooked’ to make money.”
Says the New York Hr aid: “It was
railways that contributed so largely to
German success in 18T0 and to some of
the most brilliant feat 3 iu the civil war
of America, and the nation that cannot
Utilize her railways for military purposes
is beyond the sphere of effective warlike
combinations.”
As electricity will undoubtedly be
substituted in executions for the rope,
the Chicago Times suggest that a nefs
branch of study is opened for young
Anarchists. “They should be instructed
in electric volts, and taught to compute
the number of ohms which constitute
their power of resistance.”
Western hunters complain that wild
duck are becoming very scarce, and at¬
tribute their scarcity to the use of duck
eggs in making a new glue that is manu¬
factured in Canada. Their eggs having
become valuable, Canadian hunters de¬
spoil their nests and thus materially re
duce the supply of young ducks.
The phonograph has reached such a
degree of perfection that gaps and
yawns are produced by it with great dis¬
tinctness. At a recent trial given at Mr.
Edison’s laboratory a meeting between
two lovers was recorded, and persons of
experience say that the kisses were re¬
produced with tantalizing accuracy and
fervor.
Two Pittsburg tube-workers have
been hired at $5 a day to go to England
and instruct workmen there how to man¬
ufacture tubing. One of the proprietors
of a great English manufactory, who em¬
ployed the men, has discovered that
American workmen “are much more
rapid and have a better system of doing
the work than their English brothers."
' The Empress Frederick and her
daughters are sombre figures at Windsor,
says a London cable. The Empress
wears a widow’s cap, with long strings
reaching nearly to her feet, and her
daughters, in addition to their crape
robes, wear what would be termed here
widow’s cap 3 . The Empress has de¬
cided to return to Berlin when she leaves
England, instead of proceeding to Italy,
as was her original intention.
The heavy expenses of a college course
have heretofore deterred all but the
daughters of wealthy parents from en¬
joying the privileges of academic ed¬
ucation. This exclusiveness is being
very perceptibly broken into now, how¬
ever, by young women who earn their
way to graduation. There are ahundred
and one ways in which an intelligent
girl can find the wherewithal to go
though college, and there seem to be
plenty of spirited girls who are willing
to try them.
JA
THE SONG OF SONGS.
I ’ra a man that '» fond o’ muslo,
An’ w’eu folks are not ©round,
I kin make our old accorjun
Squeak a mighty takin’ soun^j
An’ thet banjer bangin' yand"jr,
With its gentle ptink, pKaulc, pltnk
’Pyeara to git plumb a?, the bottom
Of the deepos’ tlgu'aghti 1 think.
Does mo heaps iy good on Sundays
’For ’hib'pray’r at church is said,
Jeis to stand an’ hyour "Old Hundred*
"*** Soarin’ fur up overhead?
Ah’ 1 most k:ii spy the angels
Leantn’ ’crost the gate up thar,
When Old Abrum Blackburn’s darter
Leads U 3 in "Sweet Your o’ Pray’r;”
But ef you sh’u’d want to see me
W ’en I hev mv broades’ smile,
You must ketch me in the kitchen;
W’en the kittle’s on the bile!
Fer I claim thar ain’t no warblin’
Ever riz on rod-birds’ wings
Thet kin holt a taller candle
To the song the kittlo sings.
Seems ez of my soul gits mellet
In the kittle’s first sweet note,
Till I fancy weddin’ music
Screakin’ f’om the iron th’oat.
Sech times, ef I s juent my eyes up,
I kin fahly ’pyear to see
Old man Abrum Blackburn's darter
Smilin’ thoo the steam at me!
—Eva IF. McOlasson, in Century .
THE DOCTOR'S NEPHEW.
BY EMMA A. OITER.
high Cora alighted from and somewhat Philo Wilson’s >
and narrow rattly
buggy, sigh of and relief, sat while down Philo on a hitched log with his a
horse to a tree.
It was not an enticing thing _ at best to
go to a picnic with Philo Wilson; but
the picnic itself was preferable to the
drive thither. There were distractions
at least, and, with good luck, a chance
for a brief escape But driving six
miles w‘th him, making spasmodic at-
tempts at conversation while he sat in
his usual open-mouthed but tongue-tied
silence, tall and lank, uninspired and
unmspmng-dnving with Philo had no
allev ating points.
v , ^ the grounds, then, Oora
I j <Z v° nnet “ nd f and X en ? tra M bt a -
IUHp little with with the buoyancy of youth. The
picnic was large, the she older noted, people gaily. gathered
there were
sedately together among a group of
birches. Cora s father and mother were
among them, in black broadelcth and
alpaca, and .they looked over at their
pretty daughter and Ihilo with placid
8 8 '
“steady mu "anc^their^ practical Concern
tvent no further ironned Com smiled back L. at
them boa“d And ahout the £
dancing platform later^ we7e where there til
al l “the ”
“111 go over where the rest are,” she
said.
despot And though his Philo, who was a did bit of a
under phlegmatism, not
look pleased, she hurried away.
“The girls” were gushingly glad to
see her, after the manner of girls.
“Y’ou look lovely!” said Kate Miller.
“What did you bring?” said Margy
Fuller. “I’ve got an angel-cake,but it’s
perfectly horrid! It isn’t white a bit,
and the frosting—”
“You know it’s splendid,Margy,” said
CoTa, laughing; “yours always are. Isn’t
that Dr. Sanborn’s nephew?”
“The girls” did not look around—it
wasn’t necessary. They had him already
well fixed on their mental retinas, by
reason handsome of sundry furtive glances—the
young fellow, blue-eyed and
black-haired, in a loose jacket and sand¬
shoes and a soft cap, who sat talking to
Sadie Sanborn and Sadie’s beau at the
other end of the platform. They burst
into a subdued inquisitorial chorus.
“Oh, do you know him?” We
thought, he’s of course, he’s a relative, be¬
cause with Sadie.” “Isn’t he lovely,
anyhow s"
“He is very nice-looking,” said Cora,
faintly tinted as to her round cheeks.
“Yes, he’s the doctor’s nephew, lie
was here last summer, but only for a
week or so; and the doctor was in to see
father one evening, and brought Air.
Hill with him, and we got pretty well
acquainted. He’d run and over and play
croquet real often, one day we
But a little excited . murtner inter- ,
rupted her.
‘Tie’s looking . at you!”_ “He’s bow-
ing!” “He’s coming straight over here,
Cora!’ t
So he was, with the eager smile . with
which maids young men world have greeted pretty with
since the began, and
an impatient, outstretched hand.
Cora s fingers smarted, in truth, under
thepressure Gilman," it gave he them. said, finding
“Miss a seat
beside her (and “the girls” edged away, the
awed by the nearer presence of
doctor’s nenhew), “I have been looking
for you, do you know? I came
yesterday, or you’d have seen me You before. look
How are you, Miss Gilman?
well! And the croquet ground is it
there?”
“Yes, it’s there,” she said, buttonholed smiling up
at him. (Philo had been
by Hank Lee, at a safe distance.) “I’ve
improved, Mr. Hill. Will you believe
it?”
“You!" he cried, . in _ humorous alarm.
“Why, you used to ‘whitewash’ me
every time as it was. We’ll play some
thing else this year, Miss Gilman—tag,
or jackstones, or something I’m proficient
in.”
They laughed delightedly. she thought—so
How nice he was!
bright and jolly! little frightened to find
She was a
how well she renjejnbered all about him.
IVSO
her with very eager eyes amTTWRKIcr
almost excited She dropped her own,
her checks pinker.
“I remember it all, you see. What a
good time we had. Miss Gilman, now
didn’t we—the day we went oil black
berrying? You haven’t forgotten it?
You had ou an old blue dress and a
shaker,and some gloves of your fathiA’s.’’
Mr. Hill threw back his head in bffyish
gleo. “And we got ten quarts, Too.”
He grew suddenly sober. “I did lived injoy
that week, Miss Gilman. I’ve it
over in my imagination often enough
since. If it hadn’t been for you, Miss
Gilman, I shouldn’t have come here this
summer!” he end^d, courageously. “But
I’m in for a month here now."
She looked at him breathlessly, her
heart beating hard. he
Did he meau it? ABiit she knew
did. And he hadn’t an idea of Philo's
existence. She wished rhat she had not.
The doctor’s nephew rose said impulsively, he; “don't
“Come, Miss Gilman,"
let’s sit here pokily. We never were
poky, you know. J et’s have a ramble,
Isn’t there an ostensible purpose—an ob-
ject of interest, or something?’’
She smiled, with an inward conflict
of gladness and misgiving. arbor, down by
“There’s the willow
the marsh; it’s pretty there,” she fal-
tered. "
Hank Lee had released Philo; lie was
turning this way, with his loose gait,his
hands in his pockets. -
“I love willow arbors," cried the
doctor’s nephew. “It there’s anything
I’ve always adored and yearned for it’s
a willow arbor. You’ll go.'” wistfully.
“1 don’t know,” said (’ora,
But Mr. Hill knew. Philo Wilson, at
any rate, stood the next moment staring
after their disappearing figures. Mr. Hill’s
It was not quite eleven by
handsome time-piece when they started;
but it was fully one when they got back,
They had forgotten the picnic,almost,
wandering among the willows in some-
thing more than contentment,and it was
a dire necessity to have to come back to
it.
« But thev)ll be h dinner, you
say? » sfl id Mr. Hill. “And they’ll eat
-
at that j tabl u t ther? Well<
ril get a Eeat b you by hook or croo k.”
But dinner wa8 late . The fiddlers had
arrive d, and been pressed into filled early with ser-
vice . The platform their was appetites they
waltzers—to get up
raid, while their elders waited In, -ly
for that p$otrss ’ said to the be doctor’s' completed.
,‘Ah! no ,
blithely. “Will you give me th:. ... at,
Miss Gilman, and as many more as your
card w jH permit?” laughing that they
They were at ns
went toward the platform. But they the
did not ascend it. Philo stood on
lower stair, like a spider ia wait for a
fly
“It’s about time, seems to me,” he
observed, his dull face lighted by a spark
of anger. “I’ve b’en looking round for
you for two hours. I guess I’ll have
the first dance, if you just as lief.”
JzzTjir re “" in “‘ ta
P { )ith y r ' ed lipg her face afl(Une .
But she spoke quietly. escort, Mr.
“Mr. Wilson was my
Hill >’ ortirl *‘T- t _»»
She could not finish. She tried to
smile, but her lips only trembled.
The doctor’s nephew looked Mr. Wilson
over from head to foot, and bowed
silently, a little paler than his wont, and
turned away
“I didn’t mean to make you mad,”
said Philo, better disposed now that he
triumphed. “But I was kind o’ put
out. Your folks didn’t like it, neither;
I told ’em you was off with him. Wal,
let’s have a waltz." he concluded, eon-
scious of extreme magnanimity.
“I shall not dance,” said Cora.
Her pretty eyes blazed scornfully upon
him. He had told “her folks.” She
could have laughed if she had not been
so hotly miserable. What did he think?
“You will find me a seat, if you
nleace » she said
But’Philo did not hear her. IIis eyes
were fixed on a figurant a little distance
—a figure which walked unsteadily wi th
swinging Murray!” arms. he muttered, amazed-
“Jem
iy-
The eyes of the entire picnic were
focused on Jem Murray, and with equal
bewilderment. Jem ’
cerned. He was 1 the chief ...... .blot on the ,
half town shoemaker s respectability and h ; aa ».? ' a
* "
orally idle and never soi . ■’ ®
Murra y had got. J' 0 '
startling mystery, b 1-3 / "
questionably, and as nq ■ 1 y
drunk.
Ilis progress was not barred; there
was some hesitation about barring his it.
He swaggered on, marking course
with amiable comments.
“Nishe day, nishe plashe, nishe lot o’
girls. Keep right’long”—for the fiddlers
had irresolutely stopped danshe “keep m’self..’ right
’long; goin’to have a
He was grinning with the pleasure of
this vague notion. It took clearer form,
in his muddled head.
“Goin’ to have a danshe,” he repeated.
“Here—here’sh girl now.”
lie was standing before Cora, his
blinking eyes on her blanched face and
his shaking arm extended.
She caught at her companion _ des-
peratedly; but Philo . backed off, his face
as pale as her own. He had never
“tackled” Jem Murray, and he did not
care to do it now.
“See here, now,’ he began, weakly,
But Jem was oblivious.
“Wal, ’m waitin’,” he observed.
He touched Cora's 1 sleeve; but he did
no more, lie was laid on his back tho
next minute by doctor’s a sharp nephew blow on stood the
face, and the
threateningly above him. There
half a dozen others meditating had the same
act, but the doctor’s nephew dis-
tanced them.
Philo stood open-mouthed. Cora was
tg A, *
LABOR."
FEBRUARY 21, 1889.
but Mr. Hill's arm was
protectingly. his feet and
Murray was got on of hands, and
hurried away by a score
the hero of the occasion had an approv-
ing group around him, aud Cora’s father
was "f the number,
'You did that mighty noat,” was the
general verdict.
“I could not sco a lady insulted," the
young man responded, a little stillly,
with an eye on Philo, and Philo grew
red under it.
Cora’s tremulous fingers faintly pressed
her companion’s arm,
“Como hero, my girl,’’said her father,
“You’re all upset. Mr. Hill, you’ve got
my gratitude,” he declared, courteously,
But there wns something in his voice
which made his daughter look up at him
as he led her away,
“Y r ou saw it," she said, anxiously.
“Yes, I saw it. So did your mother."
Her father cleared his thvoat. “I don’t
know as I care about your having much
there to do with that young Wilson. I've
always been iti favor of him, but I guess
he ain’t all I reckoned he was. Coining being
to mo, now, complaining fellow—wal, of your 1 used
oil with that young
to fight my own battles. when And he standing ought
there like a calf just now admiro
to be stirring, Wal, I don’t just
a coward.”
Cora laughed gaspingly, cried.
“Nor I!’’she
“But that young Hill, now," said her
father, emphatically—“he was here last
summer, recollect?”
“Yes," said Cora, guiltily blushing,
“Wal, seems to me he’s the right kind.
Showed some spunk, he did—showed
the proper spirit! Fine young man!
Wonder if he’s making he speculated, much of with a stay
to the doctor’s?" a
show of indillerencc he did not feel,
IIow could he? The fine young man
had not seemed indifferent to his
daughter, and he had some paternal
wonderings. said Cora,
“I think he is,”
She wiped away the last of her tears
and smiled, for the doctor’s nephew was
coming toward her through the trees,
And her mother was getting out the
lu ? cb ;basket.
Philo Wilson did not appear at the
well-spread dinner; nor was it very
8tran P e thbe dld “ ot eBCOt * Cora to
the next picnic, for before , that annual
gathering again took place, she was
generally known as “the doctor’s niece.”
—Saturday Night.
Branding “U. S” Oh Deserters.
L'-ivkc-ihewld. py«*mn caught in,the and froifvieiea United
States Army a man branded
of the crime of desertion was
by tattooing the letter D on his left hip.
lie was at once recognized by that mark of-
on presenting himself at a branding recruiting
lice for examination. The sys-
tem was abolished by law, and since then
it is alwavs difficult and often impossible old de-
for the recruiting officers to tell
^ers when they turn up again for en-
listment at different stations.- I have
heard my men speak of others who had
deserted and re-enUsted over ten times.
of another who had a record of thirteen
enlistments. These are no doubt extreme
ca 5? Branding 8, ... was abolished because it was
considered degrading The old system
of ll0 !?g>ng perished for a similar reason
f 110 ^ ^ ars 1 atn ’ n fa vor of b ™ nd :
1D 8, and would make it an . honor instead .
ot a 8t, S ma b 7 havln « ^e letters l 8.,
or some distinctive mark tattooed on
every sold er officer and private. The
mark c ° uId be P laced on thea ™. a3 w cl
as the hip for the f purpose. I think if r I
appeared before my men with the brand
W“ d to belr 7 1 *" the ld f °, f de 8™;
dation would quickly vanish lhcn, r , if
a man deserted and presented captured, himself
a ? a ' n for re-enliaunent or was
hw discovery . would be a very simple
ma ter ' A large proportion of the de-
®« rters ^ caught sooner or later, but in
f he ™ant,me they cost the country a
l ar .g? sum ° f m ° ney * My re,nedy ’. ]
thlnk ’ WOuld n0t on| y be . an econom >ca!
; measure but absolutely certain as a
means of detection.-We,a York limes.
A Cunning Restaurateur.
“Why do you keep it so blazing hot?"
inquired a patron of the proprietor it ns cold he
entered a restaurant. “Because is
outside,” replied the proprietor. Aflei
th(j patron bad ]eft the premises (he
restaurant proprietor confidingly made
the following confession to a newspapei
man: “You see, I’ve been in the busi-
ness for a quarter of a century, and my
experience has taught me that undei
ordinary circumstances men devoui
more food at a single meal in piercing
c0 ] d w . (!a t, ber than when the outside
temperaturo is moderate. When I first
embarked in the eating house business
j Wilg g reeil enough premises, to economize imagining in
wood for heating the
j ty a3 thereby saving money, but I soon
discovered my mistake as the patrons of
my restaurant devoured such inordinate
quantities of food in winter thatbank-
ruptcy stared me in the face. It was
bere \ learned a lesson from a cook, and
through which I have since acquired barely a
snug fortune. My cook ate
enou gh to sustain life iu a canarv bird,
and 1 inquired the cause of his lack of
appe tite. He replied that it was due to
his being constantly remarked employed that 1 about would a
bo t fire, and if
keep my restaurant red-hot in winter my
hoarders would not consume one-half
tbe am ount of food. I tried the expori-
rnent an d soon found that whereas I had
heretofore saved probably $20 a month
j n f ue i hy half-freezing my boarders,
^hat I was saving at least twenty cents
a meal in the decrease in the amount of
f ood eac h one consumed while the
premises were kept red-hot ."—Virginia
(Nev.) Chronicle.
--------
The Sultan of Turkey is considering?
scheme to establish a State bank in Con-
stantinople, with a German as manager,
the idea being to diminish the exclusiv*
privileges of the Ottoman bank.
$14)0 Per Aim am, In Advance*
HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.
A f’rct.ty Floral Decoration.
A very pretty foliage decoration -A>r
rooms or conservatories can be made of a
whito spongo. Fill tho sponge full ol
rice, canary, hemp, grass or other seeds.
Then placo it in a shallow fancy glass,
dish. The prettier the dish is, of course,
tho prettier tho decoration will bo. 'Pour
water in the dish: the sponge will absorb
this. Keep enough water to always have
tho sponge moist. In a short tfnio tho
seeds will sprout and make the spongo
look very pretty. The dish can then bo
placed or. a table, or the sponge can be
suspended without the dish in some posi¬
tion where it is exposed to the sunlight. the
It must be well watered, so that
spongo is always moist, and it will then
exhibit a mass of delicate green foliage.
Mail and Express.
A Renertolro of Clieap Dishes.
Most housekeepers, says a writer on
economical living, get into a “rut” and
buy the same steaks, chops nnd roast
each week, having no repertoire of
cheaper dishes. A beef’s heart or a
braised calf’s liver make an excellent and
economical change. Broiled sheep’s
kidneys with bacon make a lino break¬
fast, and only cost about ten cents.
Beef olives (small pieces of round atcak
spread with stulfingand stewed 1 are ap¬
petizing and do not cost one-half as
much as a tenderloin steak, and so wo
might continue naming delightful dishes
made from tho so-called inferior depends pieces
of meat. A great (leal also
upon tho manner in which the market¬
ing is put away and cared for after it
comos home. All vegetables keep fresh
longer if put in a cool, damp placo. dry
Fruits keep best in a cool, dark,
place. Bread iuu 3 t be kept without
wrapping in a close box. Fish, io be
kept over night, should bo cleaned,
sprinkled with salt and put ou a platter, cold
skin side down; then stood in a
place, away from all meats or delicate
articles.— Detroit Free Dress.
How to Make Soft Soap.
In almost all families there is more or
less use for soft soap. Nothing is bet er
for dish towels, white tables and floors,
sinks, etc., than good soft soap, There
is much in knowing how to make it with
ease and without filling the hou,e with
a disagreeable odor. If the work is prop¬
erly done there will be no trouble.
The fats to save for soap grease arc
mutton,goose, turkey, and the skimmings
from the water in which hum has been
boiled. The solid bits of fat should be
rendered while tjiey are sw^eet. When¬
ever there are any trimmingjs'of of lakf.otu that
mutton or other kinds meat are
suitable only for soap grease, cut them
in bits and place them in a frying-pan they
on the back part of the stove, where
will cook slowly until all tho liquid fat
lias been extracted. Strain this into a
pot kept for the purpose. Throw the
solid pieces into tho garbage barrel.
Put all tho skimmings of fat that are to
be used for soap grease in the frying-pan them
while they are still sweet and let
simmer on the back part of the range
until all the water has been cooked out
of them. Put this fat with the other.
If you do this work regularly, and keep
the fat covered and in a cool place, it
will remain sweet for months.
When you are ready to mako the soap
the work will not be great. It is best
to mike the soap a few weeks before you
will wish to use it, as it is rather hard on
the hands when new. Here is a good
rule for making the soap without heat¬
ing the grease:
Put fourteen pounds of crude—not
concentrated—potash in n wooden pail
and pour over it enough boiling water mix¬
to cover it. Stir well, and let the
ture stand over night. In the morning
pour this mixture into a large kettle and
place on tho fire. Now add another
pail of boiling water and stir frequently dis¬
with a stick until all the potash of is
solved. Next put ten quarts and grad¬
grease in a water-tight barrel
ually pour in tho hot potash. Let this
stand for three hours, and then add a
pailful of hot water and stir well. Add
another pailful three hours later. After
this add a pailful a day for the next six
days, stirring well with a long stick
each time. Tho soap should he stirred
every day for the next three weeks,
when it will be ready for use. House-
Be sure the potash is pure.—
wife.
Recipes.
Rice Cakes. —To one and one-half
cups boiled rice, add three eggs and
flour and milk enough to make light a brown. batter,
adding a little salt. Dry a
Crackeb Pudding. —Split a dozen
crackers in halves, lay the surface over
with raisins, placing the halves together boil
again; tie up closely in a cloth, and
about twenty minutes in milk and water;
serve with a rich sauce.
Peach Custard. —Soak one-half cup¬
ful of gelatine with a cup of sugar and
a dozen halves of peaches for one hour,
then pour on a cup of boiling water and
pass all through a strainer. Be sure to
stir it all over the'lire until the gelatine
is dissolved. Set it aside to cool, and
when ready to congeal have ready a cuj>
of rich cream; whip the cream until
light, add a pinch of soda, and stir it
into the gelatine quickly, one spoonful
at a time. Turn into a mold wet with
cold water, and set in a cool place to
harden.
Horn .ed Pancakes.— Here is a dainty
variation of the pancake, desirable for
the lunch table or fora Hasty dinner:
Make a thin batter with a quart of rich
milk—that is, milk with a little cream
added—a pint of flour in which a pmch
of salt and a teaspoonful well mixed, of and baking
powder have been two
or three well beaten eggs. Bake some
large pancakes, spread each one, when
taken lrom the griddle, with fresh but¬
ter and any nice jam or marmalade ; roll
them up and arrange side by side on a
small platter, f erve hot and eat with a
hard sauce or cream and sugar.
no. is.
THE WAY OF THE WORLD.
There oro boautiful son 5 s that wo never slnj
And names that are never spoken,
There are treasures guarded with joalouscora
And kept as a secret token,
There are faded flowers and letters dim
With the tears that have rained above them.
For the fickle words and faithless hearts
That taught us how to love thorn.
There are sighs that come in our joyous tours
To chasten mtr dreams of gladness,
And tears that, spring to our aching eves
In hours of thoughtful sadness.
For, the blithest birds that flog in spring
Will flit the waning summer,
And lips that we kissed in fondest love
Will smifo cm the first new comer.
Over the breast whom the lilies rest
In whito hands still fortver,.
The roses of Juno will nod and Mpw,
Unheeding the hearts that surver',
And lips that quiver in silent gritf.
All words of hope refusing.
Will lightly turn to the fleeting joys'
That perish with the using. ’
^
Summer blossoms and winter snows,
Love and its sweet olysinn,
Hopo, like a siren dim and fail",
Quickening our fainting vision,'.
Drooping spirit and failing pulse,
Where untold memories hover,
Eyolids touched with the seal of death,
And the fitful dronm is over.
HUMOB OF THE DAY.
“Bound in calf”—Venl.
Caught on the fly—Trout.
Two physicians arc a paradox'.
The burning question—Smoke,
Fireside companion—’The poker,
A loan fellow—The pawnbroker.
Unpopular p; eserves—Jim-jams.
A writ of attachment—A love letter.
Old maids know what a mis-spent liie
means.
The oldest and most inveterate smoker
in history is Vesuvius.
It is the astronomer who most fre¬
quently rises to observe.
When a man doubles his fists you can
hardly say he has four hands.
There is a resemblance between books
and real estate. Both have titles.
The man who lives from hand to
mouth should not have far to go for his
dinner.
To mako a Lussian name—imitate tho
“tchug” of a bull frog, give one snee 0
and say “ski.”
Honor avJ repost, the busy bee.
Once full, he makes straight for homo.
—New York News.
A young New England father, baby who was
named William after his was
bilious. —Harper's Bazar.
A harking dog is tho most courteous
of all animals, lie makes bis bow to
every passer-by.— Binghamton Repub¬
lican. small
Money can slip through a pretty lost
hole sometimes. A Brooklyn man a
considerable sum lately through a pew
rent.
All the street cars have a sign “no
smoking,” and yet any conductor will
help a woman to a light.— New York
World.
A good many of the cashiers who aro
settling in Canada are those who have
neglected to do any settling over here.—
New YurkNews.
Woman (to tramp)—“Bow’s the soup?"
Tramp—“’Tain’t quite strong enough,
ma’am. I wish you would wash a few
more dishes in it."
Waiter—“Y’ou want frogs, eh?”
Guest—“Not zee whole animaile, I want
zee, vat you call him—zee drumsteeks.
—Philadelphia Record.
Brown—“Did you dispose of that last
lyric you wrote?” Young Byron—“O
yes, 1 got it oil on the publishers for a
song.—” Yankee Blade.
Duluth people say that that city is
growing so rapidly that, sitting down m
the suburbs, with the city against the
skyline, you can see it grow.
“It requires only two said filings to politi¬ run a
successful campaign, ’ the
cian. “And what are they?” asked a
bystander. “Dollars and sense."
Tramp, picking up a five cent piece— nothin’
“A. bloody nickel, hum! AVasn’t
but a.Jonah all my life. Anybody else
but me ’a pick’d up that nickel and it 'a
been a quarter, sure.” (Sighs).
Shakespeare was slightly mixed in his
“seven ages.” It is the “whiaiug has
school boy” whom the maternal eye
detected in some flagrant act of dis¬
obedience that “shifts into the slippered
pantaloon.”
Leader of the Boggsville male quintet
to editor of the Boggsville the Herald public —
“What can we do to interest
in our organization?” Editor (without
looking up)—“Disband.” — Burlington
Free Press.
A baby girl in Missouri has been named
Kainbow. Sixteen years hence, when
she is caught in a summer showor, sho
should feel very much at home, although
she would then bo a little raiu deer.—<
Norristown Herald.
They say the Gorman Emperor
Is spoiling to pitch in; and lor*
He sharpens up nis spurs
To make the sawdust spin,
"Who wants to pit a cock against
The Bantam of Berlin?'
— Burlington Free Press.
,awyer—“So that is tho entire list of
your debts?” Insolvent Manager—“Oh, items.”
no; there are many other little
Lawyer—“Don’t you want me to add
them in detail?” Manager—“No; just
say, for farther particulars see small
bills.”— America.
An exchange wants the name of tho
man who invented the wheelbarrow;
but what many more persons crave is the
name of the man who lets his wheel¬
barrow stand in the middle of the sido-
walk after dark. The latter is m< re
deserving of death.— Norristown Hcri d. jf