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LEONORA.
Leonora, my beloved,
Come. 1 wait for thee,
bright the silver stars are gleaming *
O'er the rippling beloved, sea.
Leonora, my
Come to me.
C«me—for thee my bark i- waiting;
Love is waiting, too. thee yearning
t otne—my heart tor is
With devotion true.
Leonora, my beloved,
Come to me.
Soft *be come s. heart s beloved.
Leonora, oh. die bliss!
Thou art mine, mine own for ever;
Mine by tlii- fond ki*-.
Leonora, my beloved,
Evermore.
—Pearson’s.
-
(
B REAKSNQ IT GENTLY.
By SARAH WILLIAMSON.
&
r 'j(OK HE messenger l«y waited
while Jack Powers wrote
© nP 6 his answer tq her note.
Jf Sro»r * She might have telephoned,
but if was her way to send
messengers with her missives.
"Very well. Kathleen,” wrote Jack.
“I’ll be there. You say for the last
time. I wonder why?”
He sent a boy with this note and an
order on a florist for a box of violets,
as the message's accompaniment, and
then he turned to his work again.
P>ut his eyes failed to do more than
stare at the figures before him. His
brain could not grasp their meaning.
Kathleen’s face persisted in dancing
about the iuk-well. in a twostep that
played havoc with business.
“I’m a beastly cad,” cogitated Jack.
“and that's what. But it must be done.
Pur the last time, she said. Perhaps
she’s heard. It would help things a
lot if she had.” #
He looked meditatively at a photo
graph which lie fished from a dark
pigeonhole in his desk.
“She’s a mighty nice little thing.” he
said to himself, “but-”
And then he took another photograph
from an inner pocket of liih coat, and
kissed it tenderly.
*
“Violets!"
Kathleen buried her nez retrouse In
the purple fragrance and sniffed with
satisfaction.
“Jack always sends violets.” she
said to no one in particular, though
tier maid sat near by sewing some lace
on tlia dinner frock her mistress had
bade her lay out for her to wear.
Kathleen looked gloomily upon a tall
vase ot long-stemmed American Beau
ties that stood on the table,
k. "Xfiaf's the difference in men. Law
rence sends big Beauties because they
cost money, and Jack sends violets
because they’re my favorite flower.
Poor Jack! How can 1 break his heart
—for 1 suppose it will, You say for
the last time. 1 wonder why? Ileigho!
We must take Our medicine. Marie.
Because I prefer millions to love in a
cottage that's why. Hurry with the
w%ist, Marie. I must not be late at my
last dinner with Jack."
“No. 1 didn’t think we needed a
ekapero# to-night. Jack.” |
"Why not to-night?”
“Because, well—
I " 'Life is too short io quarrel.
Life is loo short to sigh-'
‘ i'll tell you by-an-by, Jack—after
the fish, perhaps.”
"L too, have something to tell you.
Kathleen.'’
For the space of ten minutes, while
the garcon placed the soup before
them, Jack felt uncomfortable, Every
body hates io attack a disagreeable
duty. When the duty involves a pretty
woman, he it is doubly distasteful. How- j
ever, look a surreptitious peep at the j
photograph in his breast pocket and it ;
nerved him to liis task, Nevertheless,
there was no hurry about it.
"Isn't it absurd, Jack, to say that
love makes the world go round?" asked
Kathleen.
In her diplomatic, feminine way. she
had wished to lead lip Io the subject
she had come to discuss.
Ot course it m." he answered, “when
champagne—if one lias enough of it—
will do the same thing."
"Salmon—oh, Jack, do you remem
her how we trolled for salmon at Del
Monte last summer?”
Did he remember? He had to pat
Hie photograph in bis pocket io forget.
1 read the other day.” Kathleen was
saying, “that a girl who couldn't make
up her mind between Iwo lovers hasn’t
a mind worth making up.”
*he looked at him from ihe corners
of her eyes.
Jack's face lighted up. She knew.
r then, and that was the meaning of her
desire for a farewell dinner, How easy
it would be now to explain.
But Kathleen was not waiting for an
answer.
I hey sav there's no skill in winning |
a game ivhere one holds ail the trumps.
But in the game of hearts Jacx. sup
.
pose one held just i wo. Don’t you
Hunk it would be hard to know which
to discard?”
Bravo! thought Jack, What a clever
little diplomat Kathleen is!
But she veered to the other side
"Isn’t it nice, Jack, Just we two sit
iing , Imre like this?” j
Imi t it like oh, so tenderly.
old times?"
He really couldn’t help it-one little
kiss was nothing.
There was a pause of some minutes
and the,, Kathleen sprang to her feet’
Don ., Jack, don't, or I wofi’t be
to brace myself for a ole
look the ordeal. Don’t
like that.”
He put his hand in his coat pocket.
ies. the photograph was there, Had
he had beep untrue to her?
'Em engaged-engaged, Jack,'' *avi
.
.
Kathleen. excitedly, M I - m going to
marry Lawrence Smith, the millionaire.
Oh. Jack. I never really thought you
cared—why didn’t you ask me years
ago—when I was a bud. It’s too late
now- too late. It’s going to be a grand
church wedding. He wanted it to be
a quiet affair, but I if
"Thought it would be the last quiet
day he’d have, no doubt.”
"Why. Jack, I never knew you to
j make such a wretched joke before.
High noon—at St. Luke’s—June eighth
| Yoti'll be there?”
[ Tm afraid not, Kathleen—1
"Oh. we can still he friends, Till*
is the twentieth century, you know, and
J j jealousy is out of date. *•
"I know', but-”
“ <>h - *«>' we can be friends still,
Jack. I never could bear these stuffy
| little apartments, the modern love in a
J cottage. It’s much better this way,
l dear.”
"1 know. Kathleen. But- •»
"Ob, don’t think I meant anything
horrid. I'm not that kind of a woman,
Jack. But Lawrence likes you—I think
; j 1(i Wi111 ( S you to be best man. Will
you; v>
“I'm awfully sorry, but I couldn’t
really.”
The 1 ension. drawn so tight a mo
ment since, was ready to snap. Had
it done so. ihe man would have
laughed, the relief was so great. But
his duty was still undone, and doubly
repugnant after her confession.
“Oh, you must,” pleaded Kathleen,
"else you must know w hat people will
say.
She looked at her watch:
“I must go now,” she said, “for we
are going to a ball to-night. Promise
me, Jack, that if Lawrence asks you.
you will be his best man at our wed
ding. Do it for me. dear, won’t you?”
She gave him a good-by kiss, to
make her pica more profound.
"Oh, ihe mischief, I can’t. Kath
leen." he said, squeezing her little
hands warmly. “I would if I could
you know, but it’s impossible.”
“Why, dear?”
The words were warm, but the tone
was cold.
"Well. I'll toll you—I’ve tried to tell
you all the evening, hut you didn’t give
me a chance. I’m going to be married
myself that same day.”—San Francisco
Town Talk.
Moiqultoei Lie Low.
“The skyscraper is unquestionably
an enemy of the mosquito and we need
not go out of New Orleans to establish
the fact,” said an observant man. “It
has been known for some time that
the mosquito was ont a hggh flyer,
that is. that he was not in tine habit of
getting very far away from the earth.
The wind occasionally blows him up,
but he never gets far up in the air
unless forced up against his will. He
always rests close to the ground. I
was talking with Colonel Andrew
Blakely, of the St. Charles Hotel, the
other day about this same matter, and
lie assured me that he haul established
the fact beyond peradventure that the
mosquito was not in the least inclined
to select the higher floors of skyscrap
ers for places of habitation. Colonel
Blakely during tlie entire summer has
occupied a room on the top flopr of the
St. Charles Hotel. He kept the tran
som closed so that mosquitoes conlil
not get in from the inside, but left the
windows open. The result is that, ihe
has been able to sleep without a mos
quito liar. The idea .in closing the
transom was to shut ojitJ the mosqifitoes
that might find their 'way to tire top
floor by accident. Far instance, the
insects are often cawied up to the
higher floors in elevators or they make
their way up the stairways by degrees,
or they might be carried up iti clothes.
With the transom closed insects thus
getting u> Hie higher, doors vouM be
shui out of tiic rooms providing, of
course, die doors lie not left otpen. The
experiment in Colonel Blakely's case
proved- successful and ho established
ihe fact that the mosquiSo was not in
the / air at that heigM^- If they had
been diet would have been blown in
through the open windows. The mos
quito. as 1 said before, roosts close to
the ground- and .lie is not ast ell fond
of the dizi'.y heights of the modern
skyscraper.” 1 New Orleans Times
—
Democrat. /
In tine Wrong Church.,
At ihe International Peace Congress
in Boston Mrs. Belva A. Lockwood
pointed out the selfishness! of ibo.se
who would not help to right the wrongs
of foreigners, on the ground that char
ity begins at home.
“Such persons,” said Mrs. Lockwood,
“are like an old woman who lived in
Lima while I was a student there.
This old woman was. absent-minded.
One Sunday morning she walked into
church, took a front, seat and joined
in the service vigorously. Then the
collection basket wujs passed to her.
and. putting a coin in it. she looked
about. She looked about, her mind
cleared, and an expression of amaze
ment overspread her face. She got up.
She hurried down the aisle. She over
took the man with the collection has
ket.
“ 'I’m in -the wrong church,’ she whis
pered. and. taking o»it the coin she had
put in, she hurried forth.”—New York
Tribune.
Slglit of UirdH.
The sighi. of birds is extraordinary,
and the simple fact that the eye of a
hawk or pigeon is larger than theii
whole brain giwes some idea of what
their powers of sight must be. and ol
how easily they can fly hundreds ot
miles if they ha^'e marks to guide
them.
Bicycles Popular in Europe.
The export of bicycles from Ger
many has been constantly increasing
and this year promises to he a record
breaker in the trade. Germany’s prin
cipal markets are Denmark, the Neth
erlands, Austria and Russia. Japen
| also taker, a few.. - -A
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FOR THE MOTHER
Knickers are to be worn again by
girls ihis season and again with ihe
full skirts they take the place of a
petticoat. They are sometimes made
of the materials of the frock, but are
generally of flannel or silk. When
made of a material that is not washable
they are fitted With an adjustable lin
ing of thin cotton material, if not worn
over the ordinary knit underwear.
The latest school coat ends a few
inches above the knees, which is long
enough for warmth and not too long
for comfort in walking. It is cut in
circular form, flares gradually from
neck to hem, and the sleeves are am
ple. The frock is generally confined
loosely with a stitched belt.
Flannel waists are worn more than
for a long time, and the new flannel
comes in beautiful pale colors, with
hair line stripes, small checks or a
small Persian design, and also plain.
It washes like cotton and is just the
thing for waists of bretelle frocks.
There is a variety of shapes in bre
telles. but the simplest and most pop
ular is quite narrow at the waist, is
buttoned to the skirt band, and grad
ually widens to about four or five
inches over the shoulder.—Philadel
phia Inquirer.
ADMIRE AMERICAN FASHIONS.
In spite of the fact that many Amer
ican young women go to Paris to get
their trousseaux. Princess Cecelia, who
on Kaiser Wilhelm's death will probab
ly become Empress of Germany, be
cause of her approaching marriage to
the Crown Prince, is ordering a large
part of her outfit in America. She is
said to be one of the best dressed wo
men in Germai and, whereas, Teu
tonic belles until recently have not
been noted for style, they have made
such progress since the century’s end
that the compliment is not an empty
one.
Princess Cecelia is (*special.v choice
in regard to her footwear. Slid has
much smaller feet than those of the
average German woman. . ml insists
on a glove fit for her shoes. Every
boot, shoe and slipper for her trous
seau is being made in th; United
States, a firm having sent a special
representative there to take the meas
ure of her foot.
The Princess is also h ving *1 her
summer shirtwaists made here, and
has ordered most of her liars from a
New York firm. She is said to greatly
admire the dressy styles of the Amer
ican women, and especially approves
of the manner in which our women
wear their clothes.—Newark Advertis
er.
r A READING CORNER..
f
r Another effective arrangement is to
turn an angle in a room with the as
sistance of the piano‘into an inviting
reading corner. When converting a
corner of this kind into a cozy nook
rhe position of ti e piano from the
musician’s standpoint should be taken
into consideration. No matter how ar
t.stic the setting, no detail in a room
can he a success unless it adequately
fulfills the purpose for which it is in
tended. and the reading corner is no
exception.
To place a couch or settee with its
hack against it piano is altogether
wrong. The piano may make an ai
traetive screen if properly manipulat
ed and form an excellent background
for a seat, but tlie performer's advan
tage point is lost. Then another ob
jection is that when playing or sing
ing is going on a couch placed against
the back of a piano must necessarily
he left vacant, for it is hardly an un
mixed pleasure to listen to music with
the drum of one’s ear against the pi
J110.
8o the ideal way to put up a corner
of this character is to draw a well
filled bookcase quite close to the back
of the piano, With a luxurious loung
ing chair placed near it in a position
where the light from the window may
,pach Hie reader.—Bridgeport Tele
nam.
WOMEN FLORISTS.
Women florists! Why not? Yes. in
deed, why should not women try their
hand and artisticality at this business
as well as men, and it seems rather
strange that it has not been tried long
ago. It has now become quite a fad
to employ women decorators, and they
have proven to be a great benefit in
this kind of work. There is great pos
sibility of them overstepping the
bounds of popularity and making the
male portion feel rather ont of place.
At a recent wedding the decorations
were most superb, and the hostess took
great delight in making known tlie
fact that a woman decorated, She also
added that "r* many times as I have
had the hojy e decorated, it ha s never
looked so beautiful as now." The
work mat not be exactly genteel, and
yet it is equally as much so as muiiy
other occupations. Women should
know how to tie effective bows on
bouquets and such like, and many little
touches might he added which prac
tical man would not think of. Bridal
bouquets and all of the flowers pertain
ing to the nuptial mass must needs be
effective and artistic, and ns has been
said iirne again, only women are capa
ble of obtaining the effects which are
quite necessary for this occasion, In
view of the fact that the female por
fottB of tiie population have undertaken
almost every branch of the wage-earn
ing proposition it is not surprising that
they should readily take to this part
of it. V
CRINOLINE NOT RETURNING.
Although the women of fashion have
received several severe and uncalled
for shocks regarding the return of
crinoline, the verdict has proved false,
for which they should he duly thank
ful. But in its stead there are all sorts
of clever substitutes, which, while they
certainly do give a most graceful out
line to the silhouette, are very far re
moved from the grotesqueness of the
much-dreaded crinoline, Some women
of daring have appeared on several oc
easions gowned in garments which
looked suspiciously as though they
were very much “crinolined, but any
further than a few damsels who are
seeking for novelty nothing has been
done. There is a certain class of
women who have been trying to lead
the fashion instead of being a follower,
but the end is always inevitable, and
they never get beyond making them
selves ridiculous, conspicuous and the
cause for much comment. It is true
that gowns are not as flimsy as they
might he, hut Dame Fashion has
brought the change about in her most
tactful manner, and it is not felt to
any great extent, There is a really
delightful latitude in styles of this
sort, and women w ho have heretofore
found it difficult to dress becomingly,
have at last found a vast variety to
select from, A noticeable fact is that
crepe de chines have an increasing
vogue, and it is no wonder. They
make up beautifully and -allow of the
greatest scope for trimming and using
original and novel designs.—Washing
ton Times.
THE NEW GLOVES.
“A pair of gloves for every gown and
half a dozen extra pairs in neutral
tones." js this season’s motto for the
up-to-date woman. For every fabric
woven In this season’s fashionable
tints glovemakeus have dyed a kid to
match. Sometimes the shopper finds
herself bewildered, as in the case of
a mixed fabric, where the gloves come
to match both the background and the
figure. For instance, a new French
button suiting show s a parrot-green
silk dot on a dull brown ground, and
ihe glovemaker offers both the brown
and the green tint in kid. As a rule,
the well-dressed woman selects the
more quiet color, leaving the vivid
tones, such as green, orange, rose or
sapphire blue to her sister who likes
startling effects. However, with the
new. striking tints, such as burnt to
mato, onion brown and the peculiar
amethyst shadings, the self-tone gloves
must he employed, as no other coloring
seems to tone well with the suiting.
There seems to be no hard and fast
rule in the matter of length for street
gloves. American manufacturers are
offering both one and two button
gloves, and from Paris come quantities
of the three button length. The one
button glove can be worn only when
ihe dress and coat sleeve are very
long. Neither Foster hooks nor clasps
appear on the smartest gloves, and
large pearl buttons are used instead.
The athletic girl clings to natural
toned chamois for early fail wear with
her jersey or golf vest, and later will
employ the heavy, knit gloves, which
this Reason will come in all the popular
tones for suits and jerseys. The
tailored maid is now wearing goat
skin or mocha, bur ner favorite winter
glove will he tlie reindeer kid. She
does not permit the top of her glove
to turn bark, as her brother still does,
but she buttons it snugly around her
wrist.
In the evening gloves the sixteen
button length has almost supplanted
ihe thirty-two button mousquetaire,
partly because elbow sleeves are in
favor, and partly because Dame Fash
ion has decreed that fer a sliortNspace
between tlie short, puffed sleeve of
jeweled epaulet effect and the end of
a glove, a tempting glimpse of marhle
wldte or dimpling pink flesh may be
seen this winter. >
The white glover; to - evening wear
have a rival in pale evening shades to
match the glittering silks and delicate
diaphanous weaves. Pale yellow will
be much worn with white, as well as
yellow evening gowns, and a new
while evening glove shows a lining of
delicate silk to match tae frock, and
even the depeer shades, such as Amer
ican Beauty red. burnt orange and gay
plaids. These gloves are presumably
for theatre wear, and dll do away
with the muff, a source of annoyance
in the playhouse. Fir evening wear
black glace has entirely supplanted the
more supple suede, which is rather un
fortunate for the woman with large
bawls or stout arms, and very few
white suede gloves are being sold.
Tlie woman whose hands perspire
should avoid ihe pale-tinted evening
gloves anil cling to white, as the deli
cate colorings fade in the hands of
even the most expert cleaners.—Wash
ington Star.
Women Xot Counted.
More woman is not. counted ns a
personal entity in the census of Siam,
bhi the Queen appears in bloomers and
a fancy blouse at public rec-opl ions,
Electric streel cars, controlled by,
Hanes, run at a fast; pace over an Hy
able route in antj % ahoul Bangkok,
Tugboat Life Monotonous,
!
BUT THERE ARE CHANCES AFTER ONE MAKES GOOD
Captains Who Do Well-Why a Crew Rarely Ship Together a Second T
--No Romance in the Business and Less Danger Than Might Be Supp
osfd
HERE’S no romance in
% O rp Jt O the said towing the tugboat business, cap
j w tain. “It’s all hard work.
I’ve been in it thirty
yeai I’ve been everything from deck
baud to cook, and cook to skipper, and
the only romance I ever ran into wasn’t
a romance at all.
“It was down off the oyster rnaiket at
Tenth street, We were pushing in a
barge when the captain calls out to me
—I was a young chap then—‘There s a
woman overboard.’
“Sure enough there was. She’d
tumbled off a canal boat. I jumped
after her and held her up till they
heaved a line to us. I got it around
her under the arms and they hauled
her on deck again.
“The next day I picked up a news
paper and read a great account of how
a cop came running down the dock
peeling his coat off and shedding his
helmet and night stick, and how- he
plunged into the swirling river and
hauled out the beautiful maiden just
as she was sinking for the third time.
He got a medal or an honorable men
tion or something, I read later on; but
I didn't grudge it to him as long as I
didn’t have to marry the girl to make
• •
a romance.
“Was she as ugly as all that?” the
other man put in.
“No, she was a pretty good looker,
but you see she was only a canaller,
and besides I had a romance of my own
about that time which was strictly a
dry land affair, and I didn’t want any
story-book yarns criss-crossing it.
44 Tugboat life is a good enough life
for a careless young fellow’. Your
pay of $30 a month or so is velvet. The
owners feed you and feed you w r ell,
steak and cereal and buckwheat cakes
for breakfast, soup and roast and two
or three vegetables and pie or pudding
for dinner, fish or chops for supper and
a p the coffee you can drink. You bunk
()11 the boat. You do your own wash
j ng You don't have to wear good
c i 0 thes. About the only thing you have
buy is tobacco,
«g 0j if you’re of a saving nature, you
can soa t your money away, as much
as a y ear . if you’re a sport you
can cu (- joose whenever you have a
g rj(K i W ad and have a real life of it for a
eouple of months.
.. I knew one old fellow who stuck to
t j ]e wa f e r well on in life and never
ma( j e g00( j an( j that was his way. He’d
remaiu aboard the boat for ten months
a year.
44 Every time we got to New York
he'd make a short run up the street to
the nearest bilgery and have two beers,
all by himself. Then he'd steer back
and. never step off the planks again
perhaps for a week.
“At the end of ten months he’d draw
his pay, throw up his job and disap
pear. Weil, sir, if you met him at
one of the hotels along West street
while the money lasted, you wouldn’t
know him. You’d think he was the
owner. He always came back feeling
good and quite content to fie by for ten
months more for another spell of play
ing gentleman.
“But there’s few that’s content with
that sort of life after they're thirty
years old. It’s a rare thing to see gray
whiskers on deck.”
“What do they do then?” the eap
tain was asked.
.» Anything. I’ve know’ll them to take
to farm work, teach school, go in busi
ness, drive a truck, when they don't
make good while they’re young.”
“And what do you call making
good?”
“Getting your license up io the post
office and shipping as a mate at $80
per and ending up as master at $110
to $135 a month. That ain’t so bad, is
It?
The harbor trade is full of oppor
tunities, 1 know one captain that
makes $<*000 a year in commissions.
There ain’t a thing a ship coming into
port or those on board her can want
that lie isn’t ready to supply. If the
ship needs a new suit of tyars or tlie
skipper wants a suit of clothes, it’s
all one. the tugboat man will put him
in the right way to gratify his wishes. • •
<< And, of course, he gets- a commis
sion?” was suggested.
“Generally at both ends. But, of
course, it’s only the captain can do
that. No graft, comes the way of the
deck hand, except the busted hawsers.
He sells them when the blue boat
comes alongside. That’s his undis
puted perquisite.”
"Is there much sociability among the
crews?”
“No. not much. There’s no scrap
ping or fighting; but there’s ’most no
sort of chumminess. Take the ordi
nary good-sized tug—there’ll he on
hoard her tlie captain and mate, first
and second engineer, two firemen, the
cook, two deckhands anil a boy.
There’s ten people cooped up in a
space not over 100 feet by 22.
“They are penned together, whether
working or idling, There isn’t a spot
on the boat where a man can get. away
from the vest, even for five minutes.
And in seagoin - tugs that may go on
for three or four days or even a week.
“Monotony’s no name for it, and, af
ter a while it ain’t wonderful if the
men come to hate the look of each
other and get expressing opinions in a
kind of roundabout sarcastic way. The
only odd thing to me is that the feeling
so seldom breaks out iuto real bad
blood. But von II never hear of u crew
•hipping together a second time,’*
“I suppose the men dread the
ter time?” win.
v . It makes no particular diff
Rough weather ermi 2 „
means nothing to ^
and as for the cold, they don’t f
so much as you’d think. e
4. When the boat’s in motion they
keep under cover most J can
of the time.
The worst is making up aa( j casting
off a tow-. They have to be w
slippery decks, and it’s arv ™ !
not exactly
choice job handling a wet hawser with
the mercury at zero. But even that
mayn’t be as bad as it seems.”
.. And how about the danger?”
“No more than in any other occupa
tion. Not as many tugboat fflen lose
tlieir lives in proportion as railroad.
ers.
.. I was out once with a fleet of street
cleaning scows when the wind bj ew
forty-seven miles an hour. It came or
blowing when we were off Rookawar
at 3 o'clock in the morning. We were
near Norton’s Point at 9 a- ni. and at
3 in the afternoon we were back off
Ilockaway again. We had to cut loos -
from the scows at last, for we had onlv
coal enough left to get the tug herself
in.
“A revenue cutter came along and
took the men off the scows. They were
all Italians, and, do you know, they
clubbed together and bought for the
skipper of that cutter the finest gold
watch you’d want to see. They're a
grateful people.
a Another time I was in a squadron,
you might call it, of tugs going from
Northern ports to Cuba just after the
war. I was ou the Thomas Watson
from New York, a good sea boat, but
we had one little tug that we picked
up at the Delaware Breakwater, called
the Olympic.
"One night in Pimlico Sound we got
caught in a hard blow- and she to
driven on the shoals on the east side
of the inlet. They expected she'd go
to pieces all night. They had no sig
nals on board and they had to make
them by dipping their brooms in kero
sene and making torches of them.
. > Then some of the flaming oil
dropped on the deck and set the tug
afire. The lifeboats couldn’t get to
her. though they tried all night, and it
was only next morning that we were
able to take the crew off in the Watson,
eight men and a boy.
. • But that’s nothing. Why, on the
other Land, I’ve steamed from hereto
Havana without ever getting the deck
wet,”—New York Sun,
JMineg in Korea.
Korea possesses gold mines, whose
output has increased 'from $1,158,0001
in 1898 to $2,500,000 in 1902. It M
also mines of iron, silver, copper, coal,
etc. The greater part of the gold
exported to Japan. Iron, although
present in large quantities, can hardly
be said to he exp loited. As a matter
' WWW ! V
'SHINES
-
0
3 N
ive line of
\PER
iiuu iii *.io ** Ueu. car always fa - j
n '<1
up his seat to one of the gentle
regardless of age, social condition a j
good looks. On a New York City m
way car last Sunday papa bad illustral an ®|
looker-for and embarrassin • ■
tion of how well Georgie had lt’ ai
_
ids lesson. The car was crowded, ^
Georgie had pre-empted a sea ' *
handsome young lady entered a
of the stations at which 1 ,u ’ ‘
stopped. “Take There seat, was ma’am, not a vacant^
my
Georgie, as he doffed liis cap.
She didn’t take the seat. She ( ^
tierce enough to box his ears. iuii
,
passengers had to laugh in s l n l \"
mortification. Georgie v'as f ' 1,tn
gallantly off« . e
papa’s lap when he so g yo uD
to give up his seat to the pi ■etty
lady.
Klght Laconics- neve
The most experienced shoppe* ■
gets a bargain at a church faff.
A woman doesn’t requin ire nearly sl! 5
much material to make tro uble as
does to make a dress. *
A man who gets down ° n
to will be there for the rest
propose accepted
his life, if he is ^
A girl always thinks a man ^
ful when he when tells she her know that ^ - ^^ ls -t,|
lif'ul. even J j
It takes a smart man w
widow, blue but and any young innocent thin? ^ 1 C8
eyes an
capture a widower.
Camels In Kansas. W
A Kansas man is going to
8tab' As ^
raise camels in that ffifl
camel is reputed to he able <0 “ otlfi
mft drinking longer than -! 11 -
inaj - be Slli
animal, the lvansas.-Oowha experiment
cesstul-to