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A LITTLE CHILD LAUGHED.
A little child laughed—and laughed-glory the sun came out , ’ 1
A little child echoed his shout
'fhe birds caught the wonder and carried it far I ...
in the song that they sang to the clouds and the star
A little child laughed—and the shadows and *->
of love beautiful mist . V
]?v the beams s sunshine were kissed
V little child laughed—and our burden and care ’
Fell away as our sorrows fall away after prayer.
Baltimore Sun."
WILL MANNING, MODERN SPORTSMAN,
r ^
By RAYMOND S, SPEARS
Will Manning, his schoolmates said,
„ et more time out of a day than
C ° U boy about the Saranac
any other
Lak ^ y,” exclaimed Arthur Com
h and fish
. , k -he milks a cow goes
before breakfast, gets his Latin
.
lefore school-time, of wood, and makes after a school host¬
ile l’ts a cord
and gets enough berries for
supper! You never saw the beat of
it!” father is a section-boss on
Will’s little time to
the railroad, with spare,
nd depends on Will to shorten his
a much time as the wood
day by o',- as requires. Between
j ile garden
imes Will finds new pleasures of his
own choosing. For a long time he
preferred fishing or hunting, accord
f ns to the season, that but “in one day woods he
read in a book every
scene a good eye selects the spot of
ttvpical beauty. A woods boy, too,
[used to arching trees, sloping moun¬
tains and pure-eyed lakes, Will had
not thought to look for more than
[deer-tracks among the lily-pads.
| !home-made That afternoon lie paddled to Bluff his
canvas canoe
Rock Island dow r n the lake, and
looked back over his course between
the islands. “No wonder the Indians
called this the ‘lake of the clustered
stars,”’ the boy thought. “Wish I
had a camera.”
It was in some such way as this
that most of the sixteen-vear-old boy’s
desires originated. His father taught
him to use a shotgun, but a deer
track led him to want a rifle—which
he got by selling berries.
I The more he thought about a cam
era the more he wanted one. Only
the week before, as he was going up
the Stony Creek ponds on a camping
cut expedition, alone, he saw a deer
among the lily-pads six rods, or less,
away. If he’d only had a camera!
Months later, in the fall, over a
partridge potpie one night, he said
to his father: “Can I get me a cam¬
era?”
“Yes. What are you going to get it
with?”
“There's those traps you used to
use.”
“That’s so,” said the man. “I’d
I get some anise oil and try for a fox
[if I were you.”
So Will set a line of traps up the
[lake [the top shore of and through the w'oods to
[he Ampersand Mountain; but
caught only minks, muskrats and
skunks; the foxes were too shy. At
[Christmas [that would time he owned a camera
do the kind of work he
[wanted His learning of it fairly to take, well. develop and
[print I setting pictures traps. was He in keeping with it just his
[as went about
he had begun to shoot with a rifle.
He put up a mark—Gyp, the hound—
[and serving exposed the plates, focus, one stops at a and time, time. ob¬
Then he went hunting with his cam
| I tut er a. Reynard He ran being foxes with wise his dweller hound, of
a
rocky hills beyond camera range, only
photographed a rabbit,
j “Gyp. as a mere dog, is a trite sub¬
ject, but Gyp galloping on a fox-track
is a picture of general interest. ” That
was written by Will on his first good
print, and he endevored to make
every subject a story in itself.
In the course of time the inevitable
appened. Will saw the difference
etween his own 4x4 plates and the
M X| , 8x10 and 11x14 taken with a
rst-class lens; and in his mind he
wished for a 5x7 of the finest quality,
(With such a on e, he knew he could
get beautiful pictures. He did a little
w °rk for which he paid, and
beared was
the cost , of his camera and
Materials in that way, but did not
le,P enougb to buy a hundred-dollar
* a ® day in July there was news
f bunters a «d summer people
avn, n Saranac Lake.
‘ Before day
l ieh . at ni °rning the
thrust' 111 . long-drawn,
Cry of a P anth er came
stirni g g dowu he ni Ampersand Sht Mountain,
thp n echoes, startling
orir ‘ and bringing back mem
M ( l er Gays to the old-time
.soo-tc Ami Wil1 Manning
'“ Jnd was on
ca St ’ Pon G that night with his
n) er ! aitins for
; ' ter amon a the sunrise snap
SSS£ Thp pw w "- lona S lily-pads.
in hls ears, so ciose
!itt (| earner's breath seemed to
th ! ? leS °. f the quiet
®omenf i P° n( L A
from a T ^ 111 beard a deer rush
the ' nto tbe °ds. Then
he knew l he wo
was. At H—r screamin S animal
' ^ yelling ceas ed.
frightened Unarmed d alone Will
wl tn - was
fke tales f ° r had he not heard
that hunt odsmen tel l of panthers
V t men? Long
hS rose pY after the
th f >,aned for his boat at
tT Lower Saranac. It was
is,,c of f he lad that he care
, hls
ready f, can iera and carried it
! . use all the way.
“I’ll c °nie back,” he
soon’ thought, “just
' feoc a gun.”
A mile down the
muddy f, > trail was a little
the r a dozen feet, Here
p; ner’s track. was
Paw- 1 , Beside the big
cat—the “ w ere those of smaller
Lack a
"hich of a panther kitten,
a latvd f° the
Scr eami’' r mother’s
the tra Iae sunlight shone on
serve a likt eSB o£ hoping to pre
them, made three
exposures of plates, A little be
yond he cut across way
foi t Loon Bay, through the woods
boat.. where he had left his
Of the three m 0I)e made
good negative a
prints_o'ne of' th old 'Vf 8 l )anther tW0 paw th "
others of the . e
plate to the vmo ih U f \v k e that WlU afternoon t00k the to
show A1 en ! , he had d ° A
number of ne '
6 „ n of^ Ve ° ple were buy
ing "
pictures entere^tu ? places . when
the ‘Sn bov 6 Btore
-
» S J eete<! A,len
“ Why
don’t vnnhnt -
' ru tha t panther the people
up .... the lake are tening about?”
n ° W ’j answered Will,
rather nmha. arrassed “J saw where
’
She’d snea hee been.
“Yes, you did! ♦ « said Allen.
Well, anyhow, here's a picture of
her tracks,” insisted the boy. This
was an interesting announcement to
the customers, who wanted to know
how and when and where at once.
One of them said: “I’ve got the
best camera I could buy, and I haven’t
got a good picture with it yet. I’d
give it for a photograph of that pan
ther and her cub.”
“To me?” asked Will, who had seen
the camera wTiile Allen was exam
ining it a few days before.
“Yes! ’’ the man said, with a laugh.
“You fetch me the picture to my
Eagle Island camp, and I’ll give you
the camera on the spot.”
Allen told Will how to use
light powder, adding that the
would make a few good meals of him.
But as it happened the flash-light
formation was not of value that
At daylight the next morning
was paddling up the lake again,
B S *********** *S*T*A*N*D* 3 3
& *********** 3 ■m
r^**P*A*T*** & 3
9 *********** a
3
Stick to the thing you know.
Don’t forget the toil, the thought, the planning you have
invested in the business you have mastered.
Don’t lose sight of the safety—the certainty—that the
work in hand affords you.
Don’t let rosy visions of opportunities afar blind your jjtf
eyes to surer opportunities close at hand.
Don’t forsake the duties of to-day, for difficulties that
may swamp you.
Stick to the thing you know!—System.
fresh breeze behind him and six days’
rations in his pack, besides three
dozen of the best plates he could buy.
He intended to get some good woods
views at any rate, whether he saw the
panthers or not. Moreover, he had a
heavy revolver with a stock fastened
to it. By noon he was at Ampersand
Pond camp. He knew the chances of
ever seeing the animals were a thou¬
sand to one against him, and then the
chance was they would be in poor
light. But no matter, he would try.
He circled the pond that afternoon,
and finding no signs, he went over to
White Lily Pond, half a mile distant.
In the sand on its shore was a fresh
track of the old panther, hut not of
the cub.
“If only I could find that little
one: 1 » thought Will, looking at the
rock-studded and tree-grown slope of
Ampersand Mountain. He returned
to camp then, and caught a few trout
for supper. At dark he went to sleep,
tired out with all the day's work he
had done. To tell the story of his
patient and systematic search for the
panther’s lair during the next three
days and of the pictures he took is
not necessary. The fourth day had
its reward.
A cliff rises on the south end of
Ampersand, and is laved by a
pond called Tear-Drop, because it
on the face of the mountain.
outlet of the pond flow’s down
beaver meadow three rods wide
thirty long. On each side is a
tamarack swamp. The water is
dozen feet across in the “meadow,
but a mere brook, inches wide,
it leaves the open.
Half-way down the meadow a
flat rock raises its head to the
of the grass tops. This rock is
ered with blueberry bushes
inches high Will befo’re. who had
seen the place arrived at
S nnner end ; of . the .« meadow , about . ,
in the morning. He
down the outlet to see how laige
stream was there, Near the reef
noticed some drops of blood on
^ trac .
blades and , the >
grass
plunging deer.
“Huh!” he thought.
violating the law.”
A couple of rods away the
had fallen, as the matted
showed. In the mud near by tv S
the imprint of a panther’s
claws. A glance showed that the d
had been dragged to the top of
rock and covered with sticks
grass.
"Now's my chancel” t
Will. “She's gone for her cub
I’d better hurry.”
With that he waded across t
let up to his hips in water an<
to set the tripod opposite th
inconspicuously among some
He focused the lens on a twig
on the deer, got out his extra plate
holders and sat down out of sight,
the shutter bulb in hand.
Then came dancing troops of mos¬
quitoes, black flies and punkies, each
individual with a sting of its own.
The punkies felt like streaks of fire,
the flies crawled along his temples
into his eyes, while mosquitoes bored
deeper and deeper. But Will had
tar-oil with which he kept his face
and hands dripping, and so he bore
the discomfort. The bit of log on
which he sat worked through the
crust of alder roots and slowly sank
to the mud in which the boy’s feet
were already buried. Nevertheless,
hours did finally pass.
Every minute had its novelty.
Dragon-flies swept over the rock,
great meat-flies gathered at the pan¬
ther’s cache. Shrikes and blue jays
hopped among the tree branches,
c °ming closer, all eyes for danger.
A minlj searched in and out among
the grass hummocks for sweetmeat it
could sme11 but could not P iace The
-
drowsy hum of insects made it a
sleepy scene ’ Drowsi ng> the watcher
was roused hy dropping twigs, or a
mosquito's attack. At about three
o’clock, the shadow of the top twig
of a Pyramidal balsam showed, and
then that of the bare side of the rock,
Will watched it climb to the white
ice line, over the lichens and moss
into the quivering leaves of the
bushes. He was worried lest a
shadow should cover the panthers
when they came. If they came after
sunset, would they stand still long?
These thoughts were suddenly in¬
terrupted. A kitten not three feet
long came down apparently from the
sky on the deer, growling and show¬
ing its teeth, trying to look more
ferocious than playful. Will’s jaw
dropped. The sticks covering the
deer were clawed aside, and in a mo¬
ment the kitten was purring at the
bloody throat. A low bunch of alders
beyond the rock stirred, and the great
face of the mother beast rose slowly
as she stepped gently to the rock,
eying her kitten with short glances
and the swamp borders with longer
ones.
Suddenly she growled low and
sharp, stiffening every muscle to the
one that showed her teeth. The air
currents, baffling to the mink, had
warned her of danger. The kitten
stopped mauling its prey to lift its
head. The old one began to crouch,
her claws curling the bushes three
feet away as she sunk into the roots
for a good hold. That-was a spectacle
that stopped Will’s breath, and drew
his hands Into his fists, one of them
on the rubber bulb, A little click
overhead told him of a forgotten but
faithful camera.
The cats heard it, too, and sprang
away into the swamp, fluttering the
leaves and twigs like birds, leaving a
lad weak with excitement, wondering
that his hand should have closed at
the right moment, and hoping that
the plate would make a good nega¬
tive.
Never did the way home seem so
long to Will as on that day. Toward
dusk he felt that behind him was a
silent, fierce-eyed creeper following
him," now on the right, side, now to
the left, then so close behind that
claws seemed about to grip the back
of his neck. The breaking twigs un¬
der his feet, the rustling of leaves
over his head, the dread that was in
the air sent him on fast and faster.
Time and again he turned to face—
nothing that he could see.
It grew darker; the mountains cast
deeper shadows. Dusk settled down
' re i eD tiessly. Somathing cracked a
j twig be hind turned him—a and veritable fired with some- his
thing will
revo j ve r—once, twice, three times.
j Tbe ecb0 es died away, A minute
passe d, then another, From the
r jd ge over which he had come came
j the panther’s cry; again, muffled,
from the hollow beyond; then, loin
{ j and clear> from the foot each of time. the moun- At
tain, farther away
j ael f ar a way, just over the top o
j Ampersand Mountain a farewell
j screanl .
I f rods farther on his trail was
* ’ carried it
8 anvas J boat. He
its din g- pl a Ce to the water ot
from 11 launched \ ,A paaaie^
^TreS'i’siand. o it, nr ana
av good
» here he ate a
meal a lire T1< ‘ nh<
more, t.te singing «« - “‘^“1 s
.
a nd On ca^s the ^ xt lS d e ay) W ^ Vin developed
Two or three
his p the panthers showed
were b but
re {be twigs and leaves.
up arried tha n] e, as soon as it
ed to the Ea P * e Island <
wliv e retur ned, the covet
the old camera he plays,
nt seeks on the
* As foi
Vi, bears V
Will Finch, , ort h
-
the over the wo ds
L told me that he
‘
i ■ si
Man
►4 Com
1 niou.
ABOUT BLINDNESS.
From Thirty to Forty Per Cent, of It
is Preventable.
As to the prevention of unneces
sary blindness, this is a matter which
the physicians of the country have
been alive to these many years, but
which the New York Association For
the Blind has just taken up by means
of a special committee. This move¬
ment resulted from the fact that a
member of the new association, who
had been a leader in far reaching
measures of philanthropy, recently
became Impressed with the startling
fact that, as Dr. Lewis puts it, “from
thirty to forty per cent, of those who
are blind need never have become so
had proper measures been taken at
the right time to prevent this afflic¬
tion.” In this case the method of
prevention Is a simple and absolutely
painless precaution to be exercised
with new-born children—a method
Invented a quarter of a century ago
in Leipsie, and now known and gen¬
erally approved throughout the med¬
ical world.
The work of the special committee,
in co-operation with competent phy¬
sicians and State authorities, will
doubtless be taken up in other States
of America, and before another quar¬
ter of a century has passed this one
device of prevention will doubtless
he the means of saving from misfor¬
tune thousands of members of the
human family who will never bqve
known of their danger. Should this
prevention become universal the
hardship of blindness would be di¬
minished to an extent it is impossible
to compute.
And is it too strained an optimism
for us to look forward to a time when
the danger of this phase of blindness,
as of other preventable diseases, will,
by purer and more sanitary living, be
largely removed from the ills to which
liuihanity is heir? That day of radi¬
cal prevention will be hastened by a
franker and more scientific attitude
on the part of both physicians and the
public. ing Already signs are multiply¬
of a great and widespread awake¬
ning—an awakening which may do
that for humanity which has been
for centuries the dream not only of
the “wise physician,” but also o.f the
long line of the world’s great preach¬
ers, prophets and poets.—Century.
The Little Red Scarf.
“I was wondering the other day
what one thing, had given me the
most pleasure In the world,” said
the village deacon. “I had to go back
a long ways—clear back into the
blessed Santa Claus days—but I re¬
called it. It was a scarf I found in
my stocking one bright Christmas
morning. I got a red one and my
brother got a blue one. I was a
mighty proud boy that morning as I
trudged downtown with that red
scarf around my neck, I wore It
every day until the birds began to
sing in the springtime and the kids
were hunting up their marbles. I
don’t now remember who gave it to
me, nor what became of it, but I do
know that the memory of it still
clings like a benediction.
“Since the days of that little red
scarf I have had things of far more
intrinsic value. I have worn lodge
emblems of high degree; I have had
a gold watch and chain; I once had
a pair of shoes that cost $5 and a
necktie that c©st twice as much as
the little red scarf; nay, more, I once
tackled a plug hat. But among these
things do I recall none that gave such
genuine and unalloyed pleasure, such
a swelled-up feeling, a? did that
little red scarf way back in the days
when the wolf sat out in the road
and howled. ‘Tis the little red scarf
days that stir the memory with ‘It
might have been.’ ”—Osborn (Kan.)
Farmer.
Old Walnut Carving For New House.
Walnut carvings and wainscotings
and the main ctairway in the old
John Hay mansion on Euclid avenue
will be used in the interior of the
splendid new colonial dwelling which
the widow of the Secretary of State
is about to build near Wade Park.
Plans for the new home of Mrs.
Hay reached Deputy Building In¬
spector Horner Saturday. The esti¬
mated cost of the house is placed at
$76,000. The stairway and carvings
taken from the old mansion on Euclid
avenue will be part of the large en¬
trance hall of the new residence.
This hall will be twenty-nine feet
wide and forty-four feet long.—.
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Australian Clay Eaters.
m the Northern Territory, that
faBt subtropical section of Australia
which is to be opened up for settle
me nt now that it has been taken over
from South Austraha by the common
wealth government, some of the na
fives have a curious custom of eating
a certain kind of white powdery clay
linwu Investigation » does not indicate any
, .
userLfrurpcse !|| c |„v would appear to serve a
.» between whites ,,
wav of staving off hunger when game
is scarce.— London Standard.
Idols Are Returning.
In some parts of the civilized
WO rld the fetich or idol which dis¬
appeared long ago is coming back,
in fact has already returned, to do
duty as a guardian, protector, mascot
or whatever one may please to call
it. The new idol is in shape accord
i ing to the fancy of the automobile
' owner, who places it on the front of
the machine to prevent accident and
.arrest. These figureheads are all
| grotesque in style, of the most police popular officer.
being an image a
! with watch in hand, a barking cur
[ a nd a crowing rooster.
«
An Example of Stofss Economy
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We In this country talk occasionally about economizing. We draw a
long face and tell our neighbors bow careful we are, doing without this
thing or that. Our horses are fed on cornfodder with a few ears of corn,
the barn has gone unpainted, the old fence has had to be propped up for
another year, and so on through a long list of short-sighted economies
Last summer the writer was talking to Colonel Fox, of the Forest,
Fish and Game Commission, about his trip to Europe, and of the sights
that Impressed him the most. He said that for the first time In his life he
had seen real far-sighted economy. While traveling in Switzerland he had
noticed the strange-looking sheds shown in the photograph,and on further
inquiry found that the peasants saved all the manure for fuel, drying It,
in little moulds shaped like flower pots, on shelves under the eaves of the
building. At one end all the twigs and stripping from the trees that
were cut for lumber, were stacked, while in the centre of the building was
piled the lumber itself; not a thing was wasted. The result o! such thrifty
economy Is that those people make a living from land we should consider
only fit for ghats to browse on. Of course there is no need for us to prac¬
tice such rigid economy, but that we could save a vast deal for ourselves
and our children by husbanding our natural resources and keeping ev¬
erything up in thorough repair there can be no doubt.—A Farmer, in The
Country Gentleman.
The Latest in Chairs.
The newest ease producer is a chair
which tilts backward or forw r ard as
much or little as desired without get¬
ting up to adjust the parts. There is
no rod, but instead a series of stops
controlled by a push button, You
simply touch the button and the
» o t ...
» /
V d> % uy
v. /. v v
*
>'
*:»
ft 111 .1]
weight of the body carries the back to
any angle wanted. Sit up straight
and touch the button again, and the
chair straightens up at the same in¬
stant.—Washington Star.
Fast Telegraphing.
The Democratic convention at Den¬
ver saw other records broken besides
that for a politcal demonstration.
One record that was smashed was for
long-distance telegraphing. The man
who broke this record was George W.
Conkling, the Sun’s chief operator.
Working over a wire that stretched
more than half way across the conti¬
nent, about 2500 miles, Mr. Conkling
attained the high speed of 3136.20
words an hour, or 52.27 words to the
minute, a record which has never be¬
fore been equaled anywhere. Fur¬
thermore, Mr. Conkling, in just twen¬
ty-eight working hours, sent over this
wire to the Sun, by the Morse system,
and using the Phillips code, a total of
73,000 words, an average of 2607.14
an hour, or 43.45 words a minute.
Much of this matter was sent from a
seat in front of the speaker’s stand in
j the convention hall, while pandemo¬
nium was being raised.—New York
Sun.
Of One Purpose.
The stranger advanced toward the
door. Mrs. O’Toole stood in the
doorway, with a rough stick in her
left hand and a frown on her brow.
“Good morning,” said the stranger
politely. “I’m looking for Mr.
O’Toole."
“So’m I,” said Mrs. O’Toole, shift¬
: ing her club over to the other hand.
—Everybody's.
The Broad Smile.
“Pardon me,” the photographer
said, "but I think your smile is un¬
necessarily broad. It will show ail
your teeth.”
“Those teeth cost me $100,”
growled the sitter. “I want ’em to
show.”—Richmond Times.
The average life of a ship is about
, twenty-six years.
DESERT BOTANICAL LABORATORY IN ARIZONA.
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THE ('NLY INSTITUTION OF ITS KIND IN THE WORLD.
The Decline of Immigration.
There is probably no good reason
for regretting the marked decline in
which is reported for the
last fiscal year. We are told that in
1907-1908 not half as many immi¬
grants arrived at this port as in 1906-
1907, while more went abroad than
came hither. It is not to be sup¬
posed that such conditions will long
continue, and that emigration will
permanently exceed immigration.
There is a pretty general agreement
that last year’s conditions were due
the financial disturbances and busi¬
ness depression which prevailed here
for a time, and perhaps to the fear
that they would grow worse until
the country was struggling with a
genuine and protracted period of
“hard times,” and there is a reason¬
expectation that with the restora¬
tion of the full tide of business pros¬
perity here the tide of immigration
will again rise toward the flood.—
New York World.
Visitor’s In London.
In all they do they show their
homeliness and a certain natural un¬
consciousness. They read aloud the
names of streets, regardless of a pro¬
nunciation that may raise a smile;
ask their way quite naturally im
words or demand infor
spontaneously trom the per¬
nearest them; and* they raise
hat, or smile familiarly in
When they are tired they
down where they are—on the steps
public buildings, or on railings,
on the dirty, paper-strewn plots of
grass; and they see no harm
walking hand-in-hand, nor do they
it wrong to eat things as they
They do what they want to in
manner of their own, for they only
of what they see.—London Na¬
Polite Attention.
B
♦
\ .
L*
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tr
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if m
V.i li
i \ 1
“Please, mum, there’s a gentleman
stairs.”
“Very well, Jane. Show him up to
drawing room.”
“But he’s come to sweep the ehim
mum.”
“Very well, then, show him up the
Argentina’s area under cultivation
now 36,000,000 acres, comparing
with 12,000,000 in 1905.