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YOL. II.
__THE WIND BLEW IN THE WHEAT,
A sickle moon hung low and white, In tho edge of a golden west.
With clanging bells the herd came home; and mother birds on the nest
Thrilled to the song in that is never sung—so soft! and the so wildly sweet! wheat.
The whippoorwill the marsh-land called, wind blew in the
High summer had broken to hedge-row waves with a foam of elder bloom.
By waste and way-stde the sweetbrier stars showed faint in the tender gloom.
And nibbling hares (jrept out to play, on the silent wind velvet feet.
As waxing dewdrops timed the ehant, blew in the wheat.
“Benison to each bearded head, in tho land of golden grain!
Ye shall dvink of tho sum, in strength and power, nor lack tho grateful rain.
In Ye the bitting mills, smile ln of the the ocean Lord of pressed Hosts,” with the the wind keels blew of a in laden fleet,
may read the the wheat.
. ' —Martha MoCulloeh-Williams, iu Harper’s Weekly.
A*RAjLWAY* vV
ADVENTURE.
V
-*-*
Ely DR. MAX NORDAU.
mt i N the this windows night
fl of the crowd¬
ed cafe had
been thrown
PM open, and
m the fresh,
cool air of
the spring
night strug¬
gled for mas¬
tery with the
close tobac¬
co-laden at
m o s p h e r e
which filled the large hall.
A glance out into the night showed
the deep-blue heaven overhead and a
brilliant full moon, whose cold, clear
rays sparkled on the fresh foliage of
the budding trees as they swayed
gently to and fro in the light breeze.
The members of the society to which I
at this time belonged bad been accus¬
tomed for some time past to reserve a
certain table in the cafe for them¬
selves, where they met every evening
to chat over and discuss the events of
the passing hour. They were, for the
most part, respectable citizens, who
had far more appreciation for bright
gas-light and a good dinnerJhan for
the charms of a glorious spring night,
nothing was further removed from
their thoughts on this particular occa¬
sion than a romantic contemplation of
the beauties of nature. On the night
I am speaking of our conversation
was of a prosaic enough character, as
was only natural in a small town, and
exhausted itself in discussions about
local matters, the theatre, taxes, and
similar—to an outsider—extremely un
interesting topics.
Through some chance remark, how¬
ever, which I can uo longer recall, the
question had sprung up if it were
really credible that a man’s hair could
suddenly become grey in consequence
of a violent shock to the mind. Some
of those present were only half inclined
to disbelieve this somewhat startling
theory, whilst others could not be
sufficiently scathing iu the remarks
they made concerning people who were
simple enough to place any credence
in such nursery tales.
As the discussion grew warmer and
warmer, until every member of our
party was engaged either in champion¬
ing or combating the question in point,
a man, seated near us, rose slowly,
pushing his chair from him, and ap¬
proached our table. He was a fine, tall
fellow, of herculean build, and his in¬
telligent features, which bore an ex¬
pression of great determination, were
rendered very striking by a pair of
keen blue eyes; but what made his
appearance still more remarkable was
the fact that both his hair and beard
were as white as snow, although they
surrounded a countenance which would
not permit one to reckon his age at
more than about thirty-five.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, if 1 am in¬
terrupting your conversation,” he re¬
marked, bowing politely to us. “You
were just discussing a subject that has
more than an ordinary interest for me.
I happen myself to be a living proof
that, under certain circumstances, a
terrible shock to the mind can pro¬
duce that self-same physical effect of
which you were just speaking, and
which the majority of you seem to dis¬
credit. ”
These words naturally excited the
curiosity of all present to the highest
degree. We quickly made room for
our new acquaintance at the table,
and, when he had seated himself
comfortably, urged him to had] relate to
ns the circumstances which pro¬
duced such a strange and sadden
change in his appearance, The
stranger feigned no great shyness,
and acquiesced in the most pleasant
manner possible by relating to us the
following: have
“If any of you gentlemen ever
interested yourselves more closely in
American affairs, the name of Auburn
cannot well be strange to you; it de¬
notes much the same for the United
States as Spielberg does for Austria.
You must not picture Auburn to your¬
selves merely as a gloomy and exten¬
sive prison—as one large, solitary
building—no 1 It is rather an entire
colony of criminals, a sort of town or
metropolis for the wretches that the
community has thrust out.
“Shut in by immense walls, which
rise up from the level plain to a con
siderable height, are crowded to
gether a large number of detached
Murray News
SPRING PLACE. GA., FRIDAY. SEPTEMBER 3. 1897.
buildings—houses that contain the
prison-cells, warders’ dwellings, hos¬
pital, and workshops—all sullen and
forbidding-looking; and here and there
dotted about may be seen a small patch
of grass, a few trees, and, very occa¬
sionally, a flower-bed, like the last
lingering recollections of innocent
childhood amongst the black thoughts
of a criminal.
“Certain events, which would have
but little interest for you, had led to
my journeying from Hamburg—my
birthplace—to America, immediately
after the completion of my studies, and,
after a short stay in New York, I ac¬
cepted the post of prison-doctor at Au¬
burn, which, as you perhaps know, is
situated in the State of New York. I
was intrusted with the medical su¬
pervision over that part of the prison
which was set apart for the worst
class of criminals—men, or I should
say, human hyenas, whose blood, as
Mepliistopheles says, had already
ceased to be ‘a fluid of rare quality. ’
“Two of these wretches were des¬
tined to spend the remainder of their
days iu the prison, and they, by rea¬
son of their great physical strength as
well as by the extraordinary cunning
they had evinced in several desperate
attempts to regain their freedom,
were subjected to even closer super¬
vision than the rest of their compan¬
ions. I was an object of particular
hatred and dislike to these two scoun-.
drels, because I bad been instrumen¬
tal m tbe discovery of a number of
iron implements which they—God
only knows how they had obtained
possession of them!—had concealed
under their clothes; and again on
another occasion, because I had re¬
fused to receive them into the hospi¬
tal when they feigned illness, expect¬
ing doubtless when they were
once in there that they would find
more favorable opportunities for ac¬
complishing their escape. The ruf¬
fians were separated and placed in re¬
mote parts of the prison, and were
laden with chains; but in spite of all
these precautions, one fine morning
the one, and a few days later the
other, together with their chains, had
disappeared without leaving a trace
behind them.
“It must have been almost a fort¬
night after the flight of these two
criminals, which had caused the ut¬
most consternation amongst the
authorities at Auburn, that I ordered
my horse one afternoon, and started
off for a ride to Cayuga Bridge. It
was midday when I reached the end
of my journey, and I stood still for
some time contemplating with silent
delight the exquisite scenery which
lay stretched out for miles before me.
The Cayuga Lake, one of those which, that
together with Lake Erie, compose
vast system of inland seas in the State
of New York, lay in all its beauty at
my feet. The long, slender streak of
silver wound in and out of the rugged
black cliffs which hemmed it in, and
which rose sheer up out of the lake,
facing each other like grim opponents
who had for thousands of years bid
one another defiance. Far down the
lake, which is forty miles long, and
at this particular spot about one
broad, I could discern the enormous
trestle-bridge, a marvel of American
engineering skill, which carries the
Auburn division of the New York Cen¬
tral Railway across, passing on its
way through the small station of
Cayuga Bridge. village
“My business in the was soon
finished, and towards evening I started
home again. Do you know how de¬
lightful a ride on a summer’s evening
is? Cayuga Bridge is surrounded by
extensive oak forests, through which
the greater part of my journey lay.. The
gnarled aud massive trunks cast long
shadows, and the foliage rustled so
gently in the soft evening breeze, that
one seemed rather to feel than to hear
it. As I rode between these giants of
the forest, sweet recollections of my
distant home crept into my heart, and,
sunk in my thoughts, I let the reins
fall on my horse’s neck, who trotted
steadily forward. I admired the mar
vellous variety of color that the rays
of the setting sun produced as they
shone through the mass of dark-green
leaves, and seemed to kindle their
edges into flame.
“Suddenly I was startled out of my
i reverie by a slight noise which ap
! peared to come from the undergrowth
j j on sharply either round, side of I grasped the road. my revolver. Turning
—;--; --: -rr===;
but in the same moment I received a
stunning blow on the back of my head,
which knocked me senseless from my
saddle. Onoe more I recollectopening
my eyes, and thinking that I could see
indistinctly one of the escaped criminals
bending over me, and then all became
a blank,
‘ ‘It must havo been late in the night
when consciousness again returned to
me. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw
far above me the dark blue vault of the
sky, and the full moon shining bright¬
ly. A dull, painful sensation at the
back of my head prompted me to place
my hand there, and then I discovered
that I was bound hand and foot. Grad¬
ually I collected my thoughts; I re¬
membered now the murderous attaok
iu the forest, and a fearful foreboding
flashed through my mind, which al¬
most caused my heart to stand still.
I felt that I was laid across two sharp
parallel projections, which cut into my
shoulders and the back of my legs,
causing me iutanse pain, and far be¬
low me I could hear the gentle plash¬
ing of water.
“Heavensj there could no longer be
any doubt: I was lying stretched across
Cayuga Bridge, bound, incapable of
moving an inch, with the hideous and
absolutely certain prospect of being
cut literally to pieces by the next train
that passed. For the second time that
night I almost swooned as I realized
my situation; but by a powerful effort
of will I recovered myself, and tugged
desperately at the ropes that bound me
until they cut almost into my muscles;
I shrieked, and wept finally like a
child. I made mad endeavors to roll
myself into another position, and then
recollected that a careless movement
might precipitate me into the flood be¬
low—bound hand and foot, to sink like
a stone!
“A shudder ran through my frame,
and I lay motionless again; but not for
long, for the light of the great.—almost
fearfully bright—moon overhead, the
ripple of the water deep below me, the
breeze that came in light puffs, and
then died away again, giving place to
a death-like stillness, occasionally
broken by the scream of some distant
night-bird—all was unbearable, and
caused me the anguish of death. And
then the rails! the rails! My thoughts
were torturing me,'and yet I could not
escape them. The wooden twice of
the bridge vibrated perceptibly from
the movement of the water below, and
I thought that I could already feel the
approach of the train, and my hair
bristled with the horror of it. The
breeze now blew somewhat stronger,
and I Imagined that I could already
hear, far away in the distance, the
puffing and panting of the looomotive,
and my heart stood still, to beat with
redoubled force the next moment.
“There are certain things, gentle¬
men, which are absolutely incompre¬
hensible to me: one of them is the fact
that I was able to survive that night.
One thought stood ever clear in my
mind: I must endeavor by some means
to shift my position—if possible, to
one between the metals—if I did not
wish, possibly even in the next mo¬
ment, to become the prey of the most
awful death one could conceive. And
I succeeded! I strained every muscle,
every sinew', till I could strain no more.
I wound and twisted myself, and
panted until I thought my head must
burst, and after superhuman exertions,
which appeared to last an eternity, and
perhaps lasted but a minute, I found
myself in the hollow between the rails.
“Was I. saved? I had no time to
consider that, or to rejoice over the
fresh chance of life which was now
offered to me, for my whole being con¬
centrated itself in intent listening. Far
away in the distance I could now hear
—first of all indistinctly, and then
gradually increasing as it drew nearer
and nearer—the regular, monotonous
panting which heralds the approach of
a locomotive. The fearful stillness of
the night gave way, as each minute
passed, to the more fearful noise, to
the clanking and thundering of the en¬
gine ns it raced on towards me at the
headlong speed of American trains.
Now a thousand feet more—now five
hundred—all the horrors of hell pos¬
sessed me; but I lay without moving a
muscle. Once, indeed, I triedto scream.
I could no longer hear my own
voice; how, then, could the people in
the train be expected to hear me? And
now for an immeasurably short space
of time a blaze of light beat down upon
me, and a blast of hot air rushed over
me, then everything became dark, and
I heard ft thunder as if the heavens
were crashing in. Close, quite close,
at scarcely a hairbreadth’s distance,
rushed the enormous mass over me. I
was saved!
“Already half-unconscious, I was
still sensible of a deafening clattering
and roaring above me, and I saw shad¬
ow-like masses flying past; still one
moment more of deadly anguish—one
of the coupling-hooks, hanging some¬
what lower than the rest, had caught
and dragged me several yards, tearing
finally a large piece out of the breast
of my coat—then all objects seemed to
whirl around me, the moon, the bridge,
and the lofty cliffs, in one mad dance,
and I became insensible.
When I next woke I found myself in
my own bed, and around me well
known faces. And now to be brief:
I had been found on the morning after
that awful night by a plate-layer who
had recognized me, and had brought
me back to Auburn. For a fortnight
I lay delirious with brain fever, hover¬
ing between life and death; but my
strong constitution pulled me through.
The first time after my reoovery that
I had occasion to use a looking-glass,
I saw what traoes those moments had
left on me.”
The doctor ceased speaking; but his
pale face, the look of horror, and the
great beads of sweat on his forehead
all showed how keen his recollection
•was of that terrible experience, We
also had listened to his narrative with
breathless attention, and it was some
time before we oould shake off the im¬
pression it had left upon us.—From
the German, in Strand Magazine.
WORDS_ OF WISDOM. 1
Society is the book of women—
Jean Jacques Rousseau.
Behavior is a mirror in which
every one displays his image.—Goethe.
Life is not so short but there is
always time for courtesy.—Emerson.
Mail’s inhumanity to man makes
countless thousands mourn.*—Burns.
Labor rids us of three evils—irk¬
someness, vice and poverty.—Vol¬
taire.
In business three things are neces¬
sary—knowledge, temper and time.
—Feltham.
Whatever makes men good Chris¬
tians makes them good citizens.—
Daniel Webster.
Labor to keep alive in your heart
that little spark of celestial fire called
conscience.—Washington.
One part of knowledge consists in
being ignorant of such things as are
not worthy of being known.—Orates.
The fountain of beauty is the heart
and every generous thought illus¬
trates the walls of your chamber,—
Bovee.
Nature gives us many children and
friends, to take them away; but takes
none away to give them us again.—
Sir W. Temple.
There is no open door to the tem¬
ple of success. Every one makes his
own door, which closes behind him to
all others.—Marden.
The diligent fostering of a oandid
habit of mind, even in trifles, is a mat¬
ter of high moment both to character
and opinion.—Howson.
The youth who starts out by being
sf>-«Art to spprik what he thinks will
usually end by being afraid to think
what he wishes.—Marden.
It is with narrow-souled people as
with narrow-necked bottles—the less
they have in them the more noise they
make in pouring it out.—Pope.
If any one speak ill of thee, con¬
sider whether he hath truth on his
side; and if so, reform thyself, that
his censures may not affect thee.—
Epictetus.
Wheu infinite happiness is put in
one scale against infinite misery in
the other; if the worst that comes to
the pious man if he mistakes be the
best that the wicked can attain to if he
be in the right, who can, without mad¬
ness run the venture.—Locke.
Pearl Farming;.
James Clark, of Queensland, “the
king of the jiearl fishers,” who em¬
ploys 1500 men and 250 vessels in har¬
vesting his crop, recently told a cor¬
respondent of the Melbourne Age: “I
have been fifteen years engaged in
pearl fishing. My experience has led
me to the belief that, with proper in¬
telligence in the selection of a place
one can raise pearls and pearl shells as
easily aB one can raise oysters. I
started my farm three years ago, and
have stooked it with shells which I ob¬
tained in many instances far out at
sea. My pearl shell farm covers 500
square miles. Over most of it tlife
water is shallow. In shallow water
shells attain the largest size. I ship
my pearls to London in my own ves¬
sels. The catch each year runs,
roughly speaking, from 8200,000 up to
almost five times that amount.”
Reed’s First Speech.
The one which opened Reed’s way
to fame as a man was short. It was
delivered (not long after he began his
career iu Congress. He had not, up
to that time, taken much part in de¬
bate, but one day, while he was mak¬
ing a somewhat labored argument, an
older member tried to break him up by
putting a question to him suddenly
and demanding an immediate answer.
Reed gave the answer readily. Then
he paused, turned toward the speaker’s
desk and drawled out: “And now,
having embalmed that fly in the liquid
amber of my remarks, I will go on
again.” The house roared, The
galleries took it up. The newspaper
correspondents sent it flying all over
the country, and to his own surprise
more than any one’s else, Reed found
himself a man of note from that hour,
—Illustrated American.
Fire in a Carious Place.
A fire has occurred, of all curious
places, in the ice-cold storage vaults
of a New York firm. While the fire¬
men were at work a vessel containing
ammonia used in the refrigeration ex¬
ploded, instantly spreading its fumes
in all directions. For several hours
the firemen fought the flames in the
cellars, working in a freezing at¬
mosphere amid stifling smoke and am
monia vapor, Ultimately, however,
tbe fire was subdued. One fireman
lost his life, while two were taken to
the hospital, suffering terribly from
the effects of the ammonia and the in¬
tense cold.—Scientific American.
OUR BUDGET OF HUMOR.
LAUCHTER-PROVOKING -STORIES FOR
LOVERS OF FUN.
The Modern Marco—Fair to Look Upon—A
Ivldleuloua Ouch!I on—In Waatilngtoit—
Fp» and Downs—Labors Divided—An
Easy Exploit— Snvlng Labor, Etc., Etc.
At midnight, in his gold boudoir,
The broker dreamed, with smiling lip,
That Greeks and Turks, in strife afar,
Hud made wheat take another skip.
—Detroit Freo Press.
A liidlcnlons Question.
Miss Flitterley—“Oh, Mr. Soper,
didn’t I see yon asleep iu church?”
Mr. Soper—“I really could not say
if you did.”—Pick-Me-Up.
In Washington.
Office Seeker—“Have you given up
all hope of getting that job?”
Ex-Office Seeker (sadly)—“Yes, I’ve
just grasped the situation.”
Dps and Downs.
“Betterdays has come down in the
world, hasn’t he?”
“Decidedly. He’s living on the top
floor of n tenement.”—Puck.
Fair to Look Upon.
“Miss Highaee is a beautiful singer,
isn’t she?”
“Very. That was all that made
her singing endurable.”—Washington
Times.
Acrhe Lord Speaks.
“Doy luBfcink hi^price?” it's true that every
man has asked the heiress.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” he an¬
swered thoughtfully, “but if you want
a bargain you needn’t look any further. ”
—Chicago Post.
Labor* Divided.
Parke—“I have a joint account in
the bank with my wife now.”
Lane—“Good! You make an even
thing of it, eh?”
“Yes. I put the money in and she
draws it out. ”—Detroit Free Press.
A—-
An Easy Exploit.
Brown— “I don’t see why bo much
fuss should be made about Queen Vic¬
toria reigning sixty years.”
Jones—“Nor I. We have thousands
of statesmen who would guarantee to
hold on to a job sixty years, provided
they didn’t die aud were notremoved.”
—Puck.
Golden Bridge Building.
“Of course you’ll give me one little
kiss before I go,” he pleaded.
She looked at him intently for a
minute and sighed.
“It’s pretty high pay,” she replied,
“but if yon will go early enough I sup¬
pose I’ll have to call it a bargain. ”—
Chicago Post.
SuvLabor.
“Our typewriter girl asked the boss
if he couldn’t lighten her work this
hot weather.”
“What did he say?”
“He told her not to hit her type¬
writer keys so hard and to lick her
postage stamps only on the corners.”
—Chicago Record.
The Returned Student.
Upton—“Well, I see your son is
home from college. What does he in¬
tend to do?”
Manville—“I don’t know exactly,
but, judging from the start he has
made, I’m inclined to believe that he
proposes to put in most of his time ex¬
plaining how he was turned down
when the racing crew was chosen.”—
Cleveland Leader.
‘What He Wanted to See.
“Did you see the account of the new
submarine boat?”
“Yes; but I didn’t read it. It doesn’t
interest me, you know.”
“It certainly indicates extraordinary
progress.” direc¬
“Of course; but in the wrong
tion. Enough boats go down now.
What I want to see is one that is
guaranteed to stay up.”—Chicago
Post.
A Caprice of Fortune.
“I noticed in th’ colyumns of the
daily pr-press that Actor Bancroft was
knighted by th’ gr-r-rncious hand of
the lady queen. Now, who in Erebus
is Bancroft?”
“Barnsy, me boy, I dunno. I un¬
derstood he was retired.”
“Gods! Listen to that! Retired!
Such is ourpr-r-rofession. The obsolete
and spavined oldlaid-on-the-sbelf gets
garters, while we active ornamentous
of the stage can’t even connect with
dime suspenders! Truly it is a parlous
world,”—Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Clever Trick With »n Umbrella.
A clever aud practical device for
hiding a portable washstand aud toilet
set was carried out by a bright young
woman recently iu the following way:
A large canvas umbrella, such as
artists use out of doors wheu sketch¬
ing, served for the frame work. This
was raised in the corner of an artist’s
room and secured in place, and from
it a full curtain of figured material was
hung.
Dog Meet* the Mail Train.
A big black dog of uncertain breed
seizes the mailbag when it is thrown
off the train at a certain rural town in
Georgia and scampers away with it to
the postoffice. It is said he seems to
know the time when the train is due,
and is always punctually at his post.
NO. «.
WORDS.
If words could satisfy tho heart.
The heart might find less care;
But words, like summer clouds, depart,
And leave hut empty air.
The heart, a pilgrim on tho earth.
Finds often, when it needs.
That wordBnre of as little worth
As just so many weeds.
A little said—and truly said—
Can deeperjoy impart
Thau hosts of words that reach the head,
But never touch the heart.
The voice that winds its sunny way
A lonely the home to cheer
Has oft fewest words to'say,
But, oh, those few—how dear!
PITH AND POINT.
The happy people are not those who
do right, but those who are blessed
with conceit.—Atchison Globe.
The secret of success has been fair¬
ly well kept, consideriug that so many
people are anxious to tell all about it.
—Puck,
Ruralville Citizen—“Did you enjoy
the band concert last night?” Another
Ruralville Citizen—“All but the mn
sio.”—Puck.
A close friend is one who will not
lend you any raouey, and a dear friend
is one who borrows all yon will give
him.—Columbus State Journal.
First Golfer—“Did you hear about
Weaver? He’s learning to play lawn
tennis.” Second Golfer—“He must
be paying an election bet,”—Brook¬
lyn Life.
A person who judges solely by
baseball standards can’t be made to
see how it was that Turkey won when
Greece made all the runs.—Philadel¬
phia Times.
Ethel—“Wonder why Good Friday
is oalled Good Friday?” Freddy—
“Why, you s’prise me—it’s named
after Robinson Crusoe's faithful ser¬
vant, of course.”—Judge.
“Do yon mean to say that you have
actually seen such a fashion as that?”
“Certainly I have.” “Where?” “On
the fashion page of a Sunday news¬
paper.”—Chicago Evening Post.
“My wife has joined a physical
culture class,” remarked the Judge.
“All the exercise my wife takes is to
run up dry goods and millinery bills,”
replied the Major.—Pittsburg Chron¬
icle-Telegraph.
Clara—“I don’t know how jon
manage to break oft'yonr engagements,
aud still keep them as friends. I
can’t.” Maude—“But I always make
it a point to return all their presents.”
—Brooklyn Life.
“I have proposed to seven girls al¬
ready this season,” said Timmins,
“and I haven’t been able to get ac¬
cepted once. Dinged if I am not be¬
ginning to feel like one of my poems.”
—Indianapolis Journal.
“Did you hear old Gotrox boasting
that his life had always been free aud
open to the observation of all the
world?” “I did. And yet everybody
knows that his first big money was
made in a corner.”—Indiauapolis
Journal.
“I see that some scientist claims
that death is largely a matter of habit,
depending upon thought aud all that,”
he said. “Nonsense,” she replied.
“Did you ever know any one who was
in the habit of dying?” she returned.
—Chicago Post.
“Mrs. Stebbins is tho meanest wo¬
man on earth.” “Whathas she done
now?” “She gave her little bo Lm
slice of bread and butter, and told
to go out and sit where he could smell
the blackberry jam Mrs. Perkins was
making.”—Chicago Record.
“Yez kuow Casey, the contractor,”
said Mr. Dolan, “Oi do,” replied
Rafferty. “Is he what ye’d call re¬
liable?” “He is the most reliable
man Oi iver knew. Whiiiever he
tells yez anythin’ ye kin depind on it’s
not bein'so. ”—Washington Star.
“Does your wife take any interest
in current politics?” asked the earnest
woman. “Naw,” replied Mr. Sod
farm, “she don’t. But if it’s currant
jelly or currant pie, why, I allow she
could tell yon more things about ’em
’n you ever dremp of.”—Household
Words.
Why a Boy Was Good Fifty Year* Ago.
Assistant Marshal Wright amused
himself the other day with watching a
small boy, who thought he was unob¬
served, try to let the wind out of a bi
cyole standing iu front of the Western
Union office. He unscrewed the cap
from the valve and then glauoed about
to see if any one was looking; then he
squeezed the tire, put his knee on it,
and tried various means to get the air
out, looking, meanwhile, to see if the
owner was coming. He finally had to
give up. Mr. Wright said to ex-Mar
shal Hendrick:
“Talk about bad boys; they wouldn’t
have done that fifty years ago.” Mr.
Hendrick, evidently a believer in the
boy of to-day, answered:
“Oh, no; they didn’t have bicycles
fifty years ago.’’—Springfield Repub¬
lican.
Returning to Palestine.
During the last few years nearly
150,000 Hebrews have entered Jerusa¬
lem, and the arrival of another host is
said to be imminent. Already the
railways are opening the country and be¬
tween the coast and Jerusalem
Damascus, and a Hebrew migration on
a large scale may cause Syria to be¬
come once more of vast importance in
the Eftst. __