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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