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ur Daughters Callers.
. By Elizabeth Knight Tompkins.
‘ s ROM babyhood my daughters should be prepared for a young wom
. W, anhood without any but nominal chaperonage. Before their baby
¢ " hood was over, I am sure I should discover whether they were
to be trusted, and, once satisfled, [ should give them every
o Al opportunity to lead their individual lives. I should wish them
YIS to be themselves, not copies of myself.
I do not know which is the worse alternative, that parents
should be pushed into the background, that they chould be banished to the
dining room, to stiff chairs and high lights; or that daughters should be forced
to receive their friends in a common sitting room. I should feel that I had
deprived my daughters of one of the dearest delights of youth, that I had
taken from them one of the most valuable sources of education. Parents are
often ‘positively cruel in this matter; sometimes because they have forgotten
their own youth—if they ever were young, as one doubts with some parents.
One often sees kindly but obtuse parents sitting up and entertaining their
daughter's friend, when both the daughter and the friend are sitting on the
edge of their chairs quivering with impatience.
To some parents this desire to be alone means something reprehensible.
Of course it may; but in many cases it is the most innocent of pleasures, the
delight lying wholly in the exchange of long, long thoughts; in an inward,
unrevealed excitement at approaching big forces imperfectly understood; at
straying over the border of childhood into the world of men and women.
Often the most definite sensation the girl is experiencing is wondering awe
that she is at last a real young lady and talking as such with a real young
man. She cannot pinch herself into realizing that the miracle has actually
happened, and, figuratively speaking, expects momentarily her long tailed
gown to shrink to the calves of her legs, her twist of hair to slide down into
a pigtail.
The same parents who have no understanding of the possibilities, the inno
cent possibilities, in the relations of girls and young men, have no knowledge
of the educating influence of such relations. A woman is always incomplete
who has not come into close touch with men on the mental side; there are
always forces and facts that she never grasps; she lacks a certain sort of
personal importance; one misses in her the self-confidence that comes from
the consciousness of being able to swing an interview or a relation with a man.
If marriages are to be successful, it is absolutely necessary that a gir)
ghould have a chance to know men well beforehand—not only the particular
man she marries, but others, also, that she may have the means of comparing,
that she may have standards by which to judge.—Good Housekeeping.
Do Animals Reason?
By Johri Burroughs. :
HEN a bird selects a site for its nest, it seems on first view as
if it must actually think, reflect, compare, as you and 1 do when
we decide where to place our house.
1 saw a little chipping sparrow trying to decide between two
i} raspberry bushes. She kept going from one to the other, peer-
L= ing, inspecting and apparently weighing the advantages of each.
1 saw a robin in the woodbine on the side of the house
trying to decide which particular place was the best site for her nest. She
hopped to this tangle of shoots and sat down, then to that; she turned around,
she readjusted herself, she looked about, she worked her feet beneath her,
she was slow in making up her mind. Did she make up her mind? Did she
think, compare, weigh? 1 do not believe it. When she found the right condi
tions she no doubt felt a pleasure and satisfaction, and that settled the ques
tion. An inward, instictive want was met and satisfied by an outward
material condition. s
In the same way the hermit crab goes from shell to shell upon the beach,
sceking one to its liking. Sometimes two crabs fall to fighting over a shell
that each wants. Can we believe that the hermit crab thinks and reasons?
It selects the suitable shell instinctly, and not by an individual act of judgment.
Instinet is not alwayvs inerrant, though it makes fewer mistakes than rea
son does. The red squirrel usually knows how to come at the meat in the
butternut with the least gnawing, but now and then he makes a mistake and
strikes the edge of the kernel instead of the flat side. The cliff swallow will
stick its mud nest under the eaves of a barn where the boards are planed so
smooth that the nest sooner or later is bound to fall. It seems to have no
judgment in the rn.atter. Its ancestors built upon the face of high cliffs, where
the mud adhered more firmly.—Quting.
Iron, Coal, Petroleum.
By Prcof. N. 8. Shaler, of Harvard.
' \ N the first centuries of the iron age the requisition was much less
than a pound each year for each person. Four centuries ago it
probably did not exceed, even in the most civilized countries, tea
; pounds per capita each year. It appears to have been at some
' thing like that rate when the English colonies were founded in
So\ ol North America. At the present time in the United States it is
at the average rate of about 400 pounds per annum for every
man, woman and child in the land, and the demand is increasing with startling
rapidity. It seems eminently probable that before the end of the present cen
tury, unless checked by a great advancement of cost, it will require a ton of
iron each year to meet the progressive desires of this insatiab’e man.
When the American English colonies were founded coal had hardly begun
to come into use in any country. It is doubtful if the output of the world
amounted at that time to 100,000 tons, possibly to not more per capita of the
folk in Europe than a pound, or about the same as iron at that late period in
the so-called “iron age.” At the present time the total production of Europe
and North America amounts to an average of at least two tons per each unit
of the population, and the increase goes on at a high ratio.
Petroleum, practically unknown to the Occidental peoples until about half
a century ago, has with wonderful rapidity become a necessity to all civilized
and many barbaric peoples; the increase in the rate of consumption is swifter
than that of any other earth product.
Record School Attendance.
Remarkable records in attendance
were disclosed at the prize distribu
tion in the South Lincoinshire ele:
mentary schools. At Dnorrington two
girls each received a gold watch for
attending school for seven consecu
tive years without being absent once.
A Loy at Sraldlng Central school nad
attended school six years, two boys
attended five years and eight boys at
tended four years without a break.
In the Girls’ Central School in the
same town one scholar had attended
seven years, another six years and
others five and four vears without a
single absence.—London Daily Ex.
press,
o B RS AR . 1
T O NG\, 2 i,
J,r;s{%; =TINE, 72
. W i B S 4
\ _'d'/f A .\ M—.J_,A “/
: NOT QUITE.
“Oh, I shall die!” the lady mourned,
_ As she heard the dreadful tale;
But she didn’t kick the bucket,
Though she turned a little pail.
. —Cleveland Leader.
. A GREAT LOSS.
The New (ook—What time do you
have breakfast?
Mrs. Highblower—At seven thirty.
“Well, Oi'm sorry Oi can’t be wid
ye.”—Smart Set.
UNREASONABLE,
Mr. Newlywed (to profane tramp)—
tiow dare you swear before my wife?
Profane Tramp—How the deuce
could I know yer wife wanted ter
swear first?—Puck. :
YES, INDEED. !
The Pessimist—lt costs a great deal
more to live nowaways than it used
to. _
The Optimist—Well it’s worth it.—
ruck.
SIMPLE SUBTRACTION.
Sunday School Teacher—Now, Wil
lie, how many commandments are
there?
Wiilie—Dere wuz ten last Sunday,
but Jake broke one, so I s’pose aere's
nine left.—Puck.
THE ADVANTAGE OF EGOTISM.
“Bliggins is always thinking of him
self.”
“Yes,” answered Miss Cayenne, “In
that way he avoids having much on
his mind.”—Washington Star.
THOSE BOSTON GIRLS.
Gertrude—Do you think a woman is
justified in using deception in order to
secure a husband?
Frances—For mercy’s sake, how do
you expect a woman is ever going to
get married, I should like to know?—
Boston Transcript.
HONEST.
Client to Lawyer-——Don’t you think
you bellowed a gocd deal in your
speech to the jury?
Lawyer—Yes, but you see my argu
ment was so slim that I had to use
force to make them-swallow it.—De
troit Free Press.
HIS OBJECTION.
“Isn’t this bill rather large, doctor?
You only preseribed once and I only
took one of your pills.”
“Well, it was that pill that cured
you.”
“]I am not objecting to the pill, doc
tor, but to the pillage.”—Fort Worth
Record.
NEVER HAD A CHANCE.
“What is the greatest speech that
Congress ever developed?”
“lne greatest speech,” said the
statesman with the disappointed look,
“was never deiivered. 1 wrcie 1t my
selr.”—Washington Star,
A PROFESSIONAL UNE.
Fuddy—l saw DUr. Guesswell this
moruing.
Duddy—H'm? What did he have to
say? -
Fuddy—Nothing particular. He said
he was glad to see me weul
Duddy—Oniy think of it! Ananias
was struck dead for a littler one than
that.—Boston Transcript.
WOULD SEEM SO.
“Yes,” said the pretty country girl,
“Hiram comes to see me during the
week, but Silas comes on Sunday.
“a! Ha!” chuckled the friend.
“Silas must be something of a Sun
day supplement.”—Chicago INews.
LOST, UPUN HER.
Mrs. Gadabout—My husband is
so slipshod. His buttons are forever
coming off.
Mr. Grimm—Perhaps they are not
sewn on properly.
Mrs. Gadabout—That’s just it. He
is so careless with his sewing.—Lon
don Tattler. 5
BEXPLAINED. o
“Excuse me,” said the usher, “but
why do you prefer the first seat 1n the
orchestra?” :
“Well,” replied the young man in
glasses, “I take great interest In the
first row of the chorus.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, I am a bookkeeper and I like
to see if the figures are correct.”—De-
BUSINESS, &C.
The Actor—Look here, old man, I
wish you'd lend me five dollars in ad
vance, and take it out of my first
week’s salary. s
The Manager—But, my dear fellow,
just supposing, for the sake of argu
ment, that I couldn’t pay you your
first week’s salary—where would I
be T—Life. .
IN A NEW YORK COAL OFFICE.
Telephone Clerk—Dr. Depew just
ordered ten tons of coal sent up to
his house, but he didn’t say what size.
I shall have to call him up ana ask
him.
Bookkeeper—Nonsense! He wants.
chestnut coal, of course.—Somerville
Journal. : 2
HARDENED. .
The Moorish brigands had captured
the rich American and strung him up
by his thumbs. To their astonishment
he only smiled.
“Where did you learn to stand sucn
punishment?”’” asked the barbaric
chief. '
“I used to hang by a strap in the
street cars,” said the captive, simply.
THE CUSTOMARY CLIMAX.
Nordy—How did that new play end?
Butts—Oh, in the usual way.
Nordy—And what do you call the
usual way?
Butts—ln a whirl of hats and feath
ers and opera cloaks.—Houston Caron
icle.
TWO CHRISTMAS PRESENTS.
“Oh, let me show you what a beau
tiful present my dear, good, darling
of an old husband gave me,” said the
happy wife to some intimates who
called. “There! What do you think
of that for a sealskin cloak? It cost
$1,800.” .
“Perfectly lovely!” all exclaimed in
chorus, while Miss Curicsity asked:
“And what did you give him? 7”
“Oh, the loveliest little penwiper
«you ever saw.”—New York Press.
The Benefits of Sugar. :
A correspondent of the London
Times remarks that sugar has modi
fied the history of Eurone and of the
world in more ways than one. Used
in this country four centuries ago, al
most exclusively in the preparation of
medicines, and long afterward -an ar
ticle of luxury only accessible to the
rich, it has by enlarged production
and cheapened manufacture been
brought within the reach of all. The
universal use of this practically pure
carbo-hydrate, which is not only a
freely-burning fuel and precteid-sparer,
lbut a muscle-food, increasing the
power of doing work and lessening
faitgue, must have had widespread
and beneficial effects on the national
health. Especially in the case of
children, whose greed of sugar is the
expression of a physiclogical want,
has that food been valuable in con
ducing to growth, contentment and
‘well being.—St. James Gazette.
A Cemetery for Unknowns.
The island of Heligoland is sur:
rounded by a great number of treach
erous rocks and cliffs, and every yead
witnesses the stranding of many a
fishing boat or sailing vessel. A cem
etery has now been created in tne
neighborhood of the great dunes,
where the bodies of fishermen ana
sailors washed ashore find their lavt
lr'esting place. A simple iron cross
stands on every grave, and whenever
the body has been identified the cross
bears the name of the dead. In most
cases, however, such an identification
| is impossible.