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SPRING PLACE JIMPLECUTE
SPRING PLACE, Murray Co., Ga.
Kansas farmers are going into the
banking business with a capital of |1,-
000 , 000 .
While the population of Massachusetti
has doubled since 1858 the number of crim¬
inals in that State increased about fifty
times. In 1880 the number of person!
arrested for intoxication was 10,962, and
in 1890 the number increased to 25,886.
The city of Philadelphia will aoon do
•way with horses for hauling street cars,
and some new system, perhaps the trol¬
ley, says the Record, will be introduced.
Double-decked cars, after the Pullman
pattern, are to be used on the cable
lines.
Says the Wilmington (N. C.) Star:
The South can be and should bo a
greater wheat producer in proportion to
the acres under wheat culture than the
West, and some of these days when
wheat culture receives the attention it
should receive she will be. Cotton pro¬
ducer as sho is, when she becomes the
grain and grass producer which she
should be, she will Vie the agricultural
queen of the continent.
Nearly two-thirds of the water or¬
dinarily used by New York is clear
waste, according to the figures of con¬
sumption and supply for Loudon. With
a population more than throe times New
York’s, the daily consumption of that
population is 183,859,000 gallons. It
is figured out that the requirement in
twenty years will reach 295,000,000
gallons; that it will require at least three
years to get the consent of Parliament
after a new scheme for reaching ad¬
ditional sources shall be matured, and
not less than twelve years more to erect
tho works. As no steps have even been
proposed yet, the conclusion is reached
that the supply of underground water
must bo relied ou to provide for the in¬
creased consumption.
Dr. J. F. Lydston, of Chicago, in a
recent lecturo on the causes of crime,ad¬
vanced some novel ideas, which, if true,
admits tho New Orleans Picayune, re¬
flect very seriously on the condition of
our country. He said: It is more com¬
fortable, more profitable and less dan¬
gerous to be a thief than a common day
laborer. A single explosion in a Penn¬
sylvania colliery will kill more laborers
In thirty seconds than the laws will ex¬
ecute burglars or private vengeanco over¬
take in ten years. Out of a hundred
crimes not moro than one is detected.
The toil of the laborer is harder, Iris
working hours longer, his provisions
poorer, and he makes less money than
the thief. The laborer loses more time
through sickness, non-cmploymont and
other unavoidable causes than docs the
thief. The thief makes more money and
makes it a great deal easier.
Tho day of elcy-scraping buildings, so
far as Chicago is concerned, seem to
Frauk Leslie's Weekly to bo at an end.
The Underwriters’ Association of that
city have formally decided that they will
not insure any structure', except office
buildings, which exceed eighty-five feet
in height and that all office buildings of
non-combustiblo construction must be
limited in height to ono and one-half
times tho width of the street upon which
the building may be constructed. The
Underwriters’ Association, being one of
the most powerful associations in the
country, its decrees will undoubtedly be
enforced- It is said, indeed, that a num-
berof contracts for high buildings have
already been recalled. It is to be hoped
that tho policy here laid down will be
enforced in other cities, and that somo
regard to security will bo paid in the
erection of public and privato buildiugs
everywhere throughout the country.
The Chicago Herald observes; “The
pneumatic tube transit service to con •
nect the business portion of the city with
the world’s fair grounds and also to sup¬
ply parcel and mail delivery from tho
postoffice to sub-stations is the biggest
thing that even Chicago has organized
for some time. As the Illinois Central
has closed a contract with the National
Pneumatic Tube Transit Company for
he work, the enterprise is an assured
fact. Not the least of the advantages,
according to the promoters of the pneu¬
matic system, is that offered to women,
who are told that whenever they want t*
buy a pair of gloves or some such thing
they can shoot the money over to
the big dry goods store aud have the
articles shot back. It would take many
a long year to popularize this notion.
It must not be imagined that a woman
dislikes going in a cold and crowded
car to a store, stauding two heurs in a
breathless jam, quarreling more or less
politely with the clerks and coming
borne late and tired with a spool of
•ilk.”
Statistics of the mining industry
the United States for 1890 and 1891
make a very gratifying showing.
Toronto, Canada, observes the Phila¬
delphia Record, is most probably the
strictest Sabbatarian city in America and
very few cities in any part of the world
are more rigid. All business is sus¬
pended on Sunday, all stores are closed;
it is even forbidden to sell newspapers ot
soda water.
It is said of the late Senator Plumb on
all sides that he was in the closest and
and most intelligent sympathy with his
own people—the people he represented,
the people that backed him up. And
he did this to no small degree, thinks
the Atlanta Constitution, by subscribing
for and reading every country paper in
Kansas.
The Panama Star and Herald is
authority for the following statement of
extra inducements Venezuela is willing
to give to secure the immigrants she
wants to develop her rich hut wild ter¬
ritory; “The Government will pay the
passage of the immigrant from the port
of sailing to the port of landing, allow
him to import, his personal belongings,
tools, etc., free of duty, will pay his
board for sixteen days, give him two and
a half acres of land and allow him to
purchase all he wants for half price,with
two years’ credit to pay for it, exempt
him from military service, and guarantee*
him all the privileges and humanities
allowed to foreigners." It should be
stated that the Republic is somewhat
particular as to the kind of immigrants
It will receive.
The Chicago Tribune has the follow¬
ing: “The embezzlement record of the
year is a large one. The total of racorde I
defalcations is $19,720,291. It is nearly
two and three-tenths times the total of
1890, and tho list is only a partial one.
Undoubtedly somo linve been ‘inisso 1’ in
the count, and the list does not inclu 1c
what is probably a considerable number
that were privately settled, one of the
conditions to which was that the steal
should not be reported to the public. 11
these could bo included tho proportion
might not be materially altered, but the
total would perhaps rise as high as $23,-
000,000, or an average of forty cents
for every inhabitant of tho United States
lost by men who abused the trust reposed
in them by others who conli led to the n
tho care of personal propert y. ”
The bill admitting South Dakota to
Statehood provided,among other things,
that 750,000 acres of land should be set
aside for tho benefit of universities,
schools, public buildings,and indemnity.
Laud Commissioner Ruth has been
making an inspection of all the vacant
lands of the State, and has selected
about 50U,00Q acres for the purpose sc
designated. About 200,000 acres of
this are in tho Black Hills country, and
the other 300,000 acres arc in the
counties of Hand, Hyde, Codington,
Day, Potter, Edmunds,McPherson, Wal¬
worth and Campbell, Tho remaindei
of the land appropriated he expects to
claim in tho recently ceded Sioux and
Sissetoti reservations. There arc alsc
available some 40,000 acres in lake
beds in the counties of L ike, Kingsbury
and Miner, which are considered to be
valuable, but they have never been sur¬
veyed sind never thrown open as public
lands.
The frequent robberies of trains carry¬
ing the United mails by armed highway¬
men have, according to the New York
Sun, alarmed the Postofficc authorities.
More startling than any of the recent rob¬
beries in Texas, Colorado, and Wyom¬
ing, was tho “holding up" of a postal
conveyance in a street in Chicago recently
when registered matter valued at $1700
was stolen. Forty-eight stage coaches
transporting letters were attacked during
the last fiscal year. Until recently the
robbing of a stage bearing the mails was
a rare occurrence in the Southern States,
such depredations being confined almost
wholly to the wild West, where settle¬
ments were sparse and outlaws numerous.
Within the twelvemonths ended June
30, seventeen coaches were held up and
pillaged in tho South; twenty-eight in
the West, two in tho Middle States, and
one in New Eughud, Eight hundred
and sixty-eight postoffices were robbed
by burglars during the year. It has beeu
discovered that in many cases the gangs
of thieves operated under directions from
a chief at headquarters in one big city or
another. New Yotk appears to bo the
centre for the business. As a rale, tho
robbers attack postoffices far distant from
their headquarters, where they meet at
intervals aud divide the plunder. They
are equipped with appliances for break¬
ing into the strongest buildings, fre¬
quently employing explosives, cracking
safes by the most expert methods, and
not hesitating to resort to murder on oe-
casions. No wonder that the inspectors
of tho department, when they met in
Washington a fortnight ago, strongly
recommended that increased rewards be
offered for the capture of such criminals.
The magical door.
There's a door in the wall of the ages—
A door that no man sees;
For the Angel who writes in the Book ot
Time
It the keeper of the keys.
Once in the year it opens.
At the solemn midnight hour,
When the children sleep, and the old clocks
keep
Awake in the tall church tower.
And then, as it swings on Sts hinges,
Whoever might peer inside
Would catch a glimpse of the centuries
That behind in the silence hide.
Egypt and Home end Tyre,
All in that mythical place
Where the old years rest that were once pos¬
sessed
Ry the wonderful human race.
The shadowy door swings open,
And a pilgrim enters in.
Bowed with a twelve-months’ strugglo
In this world of strife and sin.
Waft him a farewell greeting
He will pass no more this way—
This weary year who must disappear
In the haven of Yesterday.
The door still swingeth open
And outward another comes
With astir ot banners and bugles
And the beat of friendly druun^
His hands are full of beauty—
The cluster, the song, the sheaf.
The snow-flake’s wing, and the budding
spring
And the foam on the <■ rested reef.
This is the New Year, darlings,
Ob 1 haste to give him cheer.
Only the Father knoweth
The whole of his errand here.
This is the New Year, darlings;
A year for work and play,
For doing our best, and fortrusting the rest
To the Maker of night and day.
—M. E. Sangster.in Harper's Young People.
“STRANGER THAN FICTION”
BY HELEN FOBBE8T CJ HAVES.
j RS. TUCKER set
il down the milking-
jf | pail phasis with that an made em-
ISL |l the pearly fluid
V I: spatter up into her
\ face.
“There,” said
she. “Didn’t I
always tell you
so?”
Gideon Tucker
went stolidly on
plucking a fine, fat
duck for market.
“You’re ’most
always tclliu’ of me something,” said he.
“It would be kind o’ queer if some of
your say-soes didn't come true.”
“Things couldn't help happening,”
said Mrs. Tucker, “with that old sunken
well right iu the middle of the medder.
You had your best cow lamed there the
first year we bought the place, and Dr.
Dupont's hired man liked to broke his
neck there—”
“Just come short of it,” said Gideon,
“Anyhow, he had no business short-cut-
ting it across my pasture lots. But there,
Fanny, ’tain’t no use your scoldin'. 1
always calculated to fill up that well
when I got time. And I’m sorry as you
bo that the schoolma'am sprained her
ankle there. She's a nice girl, and sho
helps to support that old aunt o’ hern
out West, an’—”
“It was all my own fault, Mr. Tuck-
er,” broke in a sweet, cheery voice,
“It’s just us you said about Dr. Du-
pout’s hired man. I hadn’t any business I j
crossing your lot, but I was iu such a j
hurry, and it’s an eighth of a mile
shorter road.” than to go around by the main j
Miss Ritchie,the village schoolmistress, !
stood there iu the doorway, leaning on j
a roughly-improvised crutch which
Harry Wait, the carpenter, had made
her.
Her cheeks were pale, and there was
a look of suffering on her brow, even
though a sort of forced smile had been
summoned to her lips for the occasion.
“La, me, Miss Kitty!” said the far-
mer's wife, hastening to bring a rush bot-
touted kitchen chair. “You do look
clean peaked out. Gideon, go down sul-
ler an’ bring up a glass o' cold root beer I
right away.” j j
“I can’t do it, Mrs. Tucker,” said
Kitty, sinking into the chair, “Its no j
use trying.” j
“Can’t do what, Miss Kitty? ” !
“I walked to the schoolhonso this ! I
morning,” Miss Ritchie answered, “lean¬ i
ing ou my crutch and resting by turns. j 1
And I’ve walked so far on my way back.
But I feel sick aud faint, and I can go no
further.
“There! ” said Mrs. Tucker, tragically
apostrophizing her husband as lie stood
at the head of the cellar stairs with a
stone bottle of home-brewed root beer in
his hand, “see what you’ve doue! ”
“Twarn’t “Miss Kitty’ll me .'"stuttered hev give poor Gideon, her j
to up
school,” added his wife, “and all through
you!”
Kitty could not but smile,even through
the pain of her stinging limb at Gideon
Tucker's rueful,face.
“Oh, it isn't so badas that! ” said she.
“Or at least I hope not. I mean to keep
my school if I possibly can. Aud I’ll tell
you what my plans are. You know that
old house under the locusts?”
“What!” cried Mrs. Tucker. “The
Ritchie Ruin?”
Kitty winced a little.
“Ycs,” said she, “I suppose it is a
ruin. The grass is growing up through
the kitchen floor, and the shingles have
all rotted away ou the north side, and 1
don’t suppose there's a pane of glass left
in any of the windows. But the doors
are sound, and the roof dosn’t leak to
signify. Henry Wait says it could be
made quite comfortable with a few pine
boards and a pound or so of nails, so
long as the weather don't turn cold; aud
if Mr. Tucker would allow me to live
there this fall—”
“Tain’t fit for even foxes to live in'.”
cried Mr*. Tucker, hurriedly.
“Why,” more sib's ^ «poke her spouse,
“I was calkilatin' to store my pumpkins
an’ cabbages there; but of course if
you’ve took a notion to the place—”
“I was born there, Mr. Tucker," said
Kitty, in a low voice. “Long before
father and mother were obliged to sell
the old place. Long before poor old
Aunt Ruhamah wandered away and went
to her relations out West.”
“Yes,’’observed Mr. Tucker, nervous-
ly scratching his head; “and until 1 get
your Aunt Kuey’s signature to my title
deeds, they won’t be wuth more’n so
much waste paper. At least so Lawyer
Goodrich says. For she had some
of a share in the property, sane or crazy. ”
Miss Ritchie colored.
“Father sold the farm to you, Mr.
Tucker,” said she, “and it’s my business
to see that the transaction is legal. Aunt
Kuey is coming back.”
“Eh!” cried the farmer and his wife,
in chorus.
“I bad a letter from her yesterdav,”
said Kitty. “That’s one reason I am
here to-day. The cousins in Ohio won’t
have her any longer. She is getting
older and more eccentric every day, and
they say—what is quite true—that it is
ra -V business to care for her. And the
P (,or thiu S expects to come back to the
,,ld Kltch,e farmhouse just as if she had
' ” ‘ ' d yesterday! 8o if Mrs. Tucker
"''ll lend me a few articles of furniture,
^ ^ tr ^,, to 1,1 a ^ c P' aco habitable
.
“And you’re kindly „ welcome to ’em,
a ? liear -” thefanuer’s wife. “There’s
plenty of solid oldi furniture up in the
garret, that we can rub up with a little
oil and make decent. And it’s our
business to help you all we cac, seein’
it’s Gideon’s fault—”
“It’s nobody’s fault!” quickly inter¬
rupted Kitty Ritchie, “And if the
trustees raise my salary, as they talk of
doing, if that extra class in mathematics
is started, I shall soon be able to pay a
little rent for the place.”
“I guess we shan’t dun you much for
no rent, Miss Ititchie,” chuckled Tucker.
“An’ you’re welcome to the milk of the
red cow if you an’ tho old aunty want
it. A cow’s a dreadful help in house-
ktepin’.
Miss Ritchie thanked them and went
on her way, limping slowly along.
“I'd a’ hitched up old Jack and took
her the rest of the way home,” observed
Tucker, as he stretched his neck to look
after the departing figure, “if I hadn’t
a’ seen Harry Watt’s carpenter wagon
cornin’ down the road. An’ I guess I
ain’t one to spcil sport.”
“’Twou’t never be a match if Kitty
Ritchie shoulders tho burden o’ that old
crazy aunt o’her’n,” said Mrs. Tucker.
“A man can’t be expected to marry a
whole madhouse!'’
“I guess Kitty’s worth it!" declared
Tucker.
“She is a good girl!” said his wife,
“And there was one time folks s’posod
she was goin' to tm an heiress—when the
old sea captain uncle came home with
the prize money that he gained in the
war.”
“I don’t believe there ever was any
prize money!” said Mr. Tucker, icsum-
ing his task of denuding the plump duck
of its feathers. “There!”
“I know there was!” nodded his wife.
“Mrs. Ritchie showed it to me herself.
All gold eagles; tied up in a shammy
bag, with a leather shoe String. The old
captain give it to her for uussin’ him
through that fever. ”
“What’s the reason yon never said
nothin’ about it before?" questioned
Tucker.
“Mrs. Ritchie made me promise not to
tell. She was afeared o’ bein’ robbed.”
“And what ever came of it?”
“That's what nobody knows. Jest's
like’s not old Eben Ritchie put it into
that iron-mining’ consara that honey-
combed Blue Mountain and never done
no good. Or p’r’aps he invested it in
lottery tickets. He never had no judg-
meat. Now, don’t you go to chatterin’
about this, Gid Tucker. Mind, I’m un-
der a promise to the poor old crectur
that’s dead and buried,”
“Some promises is better broken than
kept,” said Gideon,
But Mrs. Tucker knew that the secret
was safe with her uncommunicative
spouse,
Meanwhile, the builder's wagon had
stopped before the old, one-storied ruin
of tho Ritchie house, strongly silhouetted
by the red smoulder of the September
sunset. j
“Kitty,” said young Wait, stealing I j
his at mcoaxingly around her waist, “you
can't live in an old shell like this! Give
up your false pride, love! Let me make i
a home for you.” j !
Kitty bit her lip.
“And have it said,” said she, “that
Henry Wait was the only one of the
Wait family that made a bad match!”
“I don't care what people say.”
“Ido.”
“Kittv, let’s go to tho parson to-
night! Let’s be married!” I
Kitty shook her head.
“Not until I’ve saved up enough '‘Not to j !
buy a decent outfit,” said she. i
until I’ve paid the last debt tuat poor
father owed.” !
“I’ll pay 'em, Kitty."
“No, Harry, you won’t- I can be as
unselfish as you'are 1” cried the girl,
“Oh, hush! Who is that?”
A board in the old floor had creaked
softly, a shadowy little figure had come
forward with a sidling motion, into the
light. '“Be
you Kitty?” asked a soft, high-
pitched little voice. “Is this home? I’ve
come a good ways, and I'm sort o’ turuci
round.”
“It's Aunt Ruhamah 1” cried Kitty,
“Why, how came she here 1 Aud all by
herseli!” .
“It’s a good ways,” repeated the old
woman, shifting her flat traveling has-
ket, “and I’m sort o'turned round. But
I followed sister Sarah all the way. She
went before, an’ she beckoned. I fol-
lowed her here. And she’s gone out to
the old well. I'm sort o’ feared to fol-
ler her into the high, wet grass, but
she keeps a-beckonin’, and I guess I’ll
have to go!” the door, her
She started for passing
band in a confused fashion over her fore¬
head.
“What does she mean?" asked Harry
Wait.
“She meats mother,” said Kitty—
“mother that has been dead and buried
these fifteen years."
“Don’t you see her a-beekonin’?’
piped the little old woman—“just there
by the old well? We never could get
Eben to put up a curb there, and sister
Sarah was alwaysafeard somethin’ would
happen."
! “f tee the tall grass waving,” said
Kitty, “and a cloud coming over the
surface of the rising moon, and that is
all.”
: “It’s sister Sarah,” said Aunt Ruey,
pushing resolutely ahead; “and she
wants me. Why, Kitty, do you mean tc
tell me that you don't know your own
mother?”
Kitty sent for Harry Wait the next
day.
j “Harry,” said she, “do jou want tc
do something for me?”
“I want to do everything for you,
Kitty-”
“That’s nonsense'." (But she laughed
and colored nevertheless.) “I want you
to put a curb around that old suuktn
well. Aunt Iiuey keeps wandering out
there. She declares that mother stands
beckoning her and leaning over to look
in. And it's as near to bring out water
from there as to go to Hemlock
Springs.”
“I thought the old well was dried up
long ago,” said young Wait.
“There's water there. I see it shine
and sparkle. And Mr. Tucker says he
will dig it out anew and stone it up it
you’ll build a curb. It will be handy for
the cattle, too.”
“Very well," nodded Wait. “Any
time Gid Tucker’s ready, I am.”
Mrs. T ucker came a few days later to
the first husking bee of the season, full
of excitement.
“Hev ye heard?” said she.
And Mrs. Bradley, the buxom hostess,
made answer:
“We ain’t heard nothin’ new!”
“If 1 hadn’t heerd it with my own
ears an’ seen it with my own eyes," said
Mrs. Tucker, “I never should ha" be
lieved it. But it’s true!"
“What’s true?” breathlessly demanded
Mrs. Bradley.
“Miss Ritchie’s come into her fortune,"
said Mrs. Tucker.
“What!" cried all the company.
“In gold,” said Mrs. Tucker. “The
old captain's prize money. I knowed it
must be somewhere. And it was there
all the time!”
“Where?” questioned the company,
with one accord.
“Wedged behind the big half-way
stone in the old sunken well, where they
used to lower the cream-pail to keep it
cool,” eagerly spoke Mrs. Tucker. “In
an old tin box rusted clean through, and
tied up in tho same identical shammy
bag that Mrs. Ritchie once showed me
years an’years ago. She must a’put it
there herself, to keep it out of her hus-
baud’s hands, that time he had such a
notion o’puttin’everything into minin’
shares an’lottery tickets, an’ died afore
she had a chance to tell anybody where
it was. Gideon he discovered it, fixiir
up the new stun wall.”
Mrs. Bradley gave a start,
“Don’t ye know,” said she, “poor old
Aunt Ruey always stood to it that her
sister Sarah was standin'there by the
well, beckonin’ to her? She declared
that sister Sarah went afore her all the
way from Ohio.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Tucker, in a low
voice. “And when Gideon got to the
house, there was Aunt Ruhamah settiu'
by the fire, with her knittin' work iu her
bauds, jest for all the world like she was
asleep, but stone dead. And wasn’t it
lucky sho signed them title papers, o’
Gideon’s last week? And Kitty’s cry¬
ing fit to break her heart. Kitty can
be married now whenever she pleases.
There ain't nothin’ more to wait for.
And who knows,” she added, looking
timidly over her shoulder at the gray
shadows of the gloaming, “but that
Aunt Ruhamah saw clearer than we do,
and sister Sarah, Kitty’s mother, was
really beckoning ou the edge of the old
well:”
“Ah!” said Mrs. Bradley, “who
knows?”—Saturday Night.
The New Year iu Japan.
The Japanese New Year comes at the
same time as ours, but instead of eele-
brating but one <%, the Japanese observe
first three days of January. Indeed,
* n cert ain localities even six days are
observed. During the holidays, public
offices are closed, and very little business
> s transacted, all classes of people derot-
ingthcm'rives to enjoyment, and spend-
ins? much time in making and receiving
Now Your s cat Is.
Arrayed in gay holiday attire, the
people go from house to house wishing
one another “Snim uesv omedetto gozai-
niazu,” which means, “.May you have a
happy New Year." The callers are often
attended by one at more servants who
carr 5' bamboo baskets laden with gifts,
for > c is tue custom to leave presents with
one's iriendly greetings. Tno presents
■ iro usually inexpensive articles for every-
day use. It is customary to bestow more
costly gifts upon one's relatives and
intimate friends dunng the closing days
of the oid year.
During , the holidays the streets presenl
a most festive appearance, for houses are
elaborately decorated and everybody
Docks gay and hair y. The decorations
remain for fifteen days, and consist in
niany case? of evergreen are.ies over tho
doors. Red berries and yellow ehrys-
anthemums are interwoven into these
arches, and purple cabbages are alsc
useu. The Japanese think the cabbage
highly ornamental, and use it as a house-
P'Unt and at funerals. Use cabbage-
are said to look like large purple rosettes
* u Straw ^De decorations, twisted into fanciful
ropes are
shapes, and interspersed with ferns, an i
lanterns and Japanese flags are also muca
used in decorating. I he flag of tae
Sunrise Kingdom is a large red sun ou .<
background of white.—Forward.
The laws of heredity are curious ir
Lheir w orking.
SLUMBERING song.
The mill goes toiling slowly around.
With steady and solemn creak.
And my little one hears in the kindly sound
The voice of the old mill speak;
While round and round those big white wings
Grimly and ghostlike ereep.
My little one hears that the old mill slugs,
“Sleep, little tulip, sleep."’
The sails are reefed and the nets are drawn,
And, over his pot of beer.
The fisher, against the morrow's dawn,
LustiJy maketh cheer; ’
He mocks at the win is that caper along
From the far-off clamorous deep,
But we—we love their lullaby-song
Of ■ 'Sleep, little tulip, sleep!”
Shaggy old Fritz, in slumber sound,
Moans of the stony mart—
To-morrow how proudly he’ll trot vou
around
Hitched to our new milk cart!
And you shall help me blanket the kine,
And fold the gentle sheep.
And set the herring a-soak in brine—
But now, little tulip, sleep!
A Dream-One comes to button the eyes
That weariiy droop and blink.
While the old mill buffets the frowning skies
And scolds at the stars that wink;;
Over your face the misty wings
Of that beautiful Dream-One sweep.
And, rocking your cradle, she softly sings,
“Sleep, little tulip, sleep!"
—Eugene Field, iu Chicago News.
Pirn AND POINT.
Musical conductors beat their way
through the world by scores—Pittsburg
Dispatch.
Tho grocer who gives sixteen ounces
to the pound is a model in his weight.—
Chicago Times.
Good looks go a long way, but finally
the paint wears of and there you arc.—•
Galveston News.
No matter how small the scandal
there's always enough of it to go round.
—.Elmira Gazette.
Wool—“Is your mother-in-law still
with you?” Van Pelt—“No; still agm
me.”—New Y'ork Herald.
Dentists are not looked upon as pecu¬
liarly dissipated, yet they arc always
filling up.—Chicago Times.
The female spiritualistic medium never
exposes herself. That is to say, sho
never goes out without her raps.—States¬
man.
Toward twilight you want to keep
your own counsel, since it is about then
that you may expect the eve's-dropping.
—Bostou Courier.
After all, the old-fashioned meter by
moonlight is about the ouiy one that has
stood the test of time and the experts.
—Texas Siftings.
Cabbie—“I understand that you lost
the steamer for Europe.” Stone—“Yes.
My wife had to go back for acothei
hairpin.”—Cloak Review.
When doctors disagree, they do not
forget to charge for the time they spend
in argument that precedes disagreement.
-—Kate Field's Washington.
A man is like a postage stamp. When
he is badly stuck on himself, as it were,
he is not worth two cents for any practi¬
cal use.—Chicago Tribune.
It is difficult for the average man t>
heir said that man was made in God’s
own image without feeling that ho is the
man referred to.—Boston Transcript.
She—“I wouldn’t marry the host man
living.” He—“Then there is no hope
for me. It was because 1 thought that
vou would that I proposed to you."—.
New York Press.
Butcher (to artist)—“I’m not quite
satisfied with the portrait. Tho right
side of tho chest should bulge some¬
what—that % is
-where I keep my pocket-
book.”—Fliegende Biaetter.
“Why weary ye me,” cried the housewife
‘•With grim,
sueh a wild pack of lies?’
“I do so bekazty’ said the mendicant slim.
“Bekaze of alack of pies.”
—Indianapolis Journal.
Old Gentleman (stepping out on car
platform as car stops at a way station,
aud sniffing the fresh air)—“Isn't this
invigorating?" Brakeman (shifting his
quid)—“No, Poekskill?”—Drake's Mag*
azine.
Mr. N. Peck—“I think you would be
ashamed to wear the hair of another wo¬
man on your head.” Sirs. N. Peck—
“Shame yourself, for you wear the skin
of another calf ou your feet.”—Brooklyn
Eagle.
“Are you pretty well acquainted with
your mother tongue, my boy?” asked the
school teacher of the new scholar.
“Yes, sir,” answered the lad, timidly,
“Ma jaws me a good deal, sir.”—Tua
Comic.
“I have saved you from drowning,”
said the gallant rescuer. “As a reward
I ask your hand.” “Oh, give me time
to think, George.” “How long, how
long? - ’ “At least till I get dry.”—Phil¬
adelphia Times.
He—“I hear you attend the Handel
and Haydn performances. Were you
present at the ‘Creation?’ ” She (indig¬
nantly)—“I suppose you will next want
to know if I sailed in Noah's Ark?”—
Boston Beacon.
First Suburban—“Hello, Smith! YY>u
are got up regardless. Going to a wed¬
ding?” Second Suburban—“No; I’m
going to town to try to engage a cook,
and 1 wish to create a good impression. ”—
Harper's Bazar.
Jail Official—“Ob, dear, no! You
can’t see the man in that cell 1 He must
not be disturbed.” Visitor—“Why
not?” Jail Official (in an awestruck
whisper)—“He's charged with embez¬
zling a million dollars 1”—Chicago Tri¬
bune.
Public-Spirited Citizen—“lam taking
np a collection for a monument to Eli
Whitney, the inventor of the cotton gin.
Can you-” Indignant Old Lady—
“Fer the land's sake 1 They’ll be raisin’
money next to build a monument to the
inventor of peach brandy 1 You git out
o’ here!"—Chicago Tribune.