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SPRING PLACE JIMPLECUTE
STRING FLACK, Murray C«., Ga.
There is a severe penalty in Mexico lot
walking on a railroad track or crossing
It except at specially designated points.
The great United States Treasury vault
at Washington covers more than a quartei
of an acre and is twelve feet deep. Re
eently there was §90,000,000 in silvei
atored there—an anwv it that weighed
4000 tons au? would load 175 freighl
cars.
There are thirteen little, old-fashionec
monitors, relics of tbe late war, laid uj
In ordinary at various places. Com 1
modore Folger thinks tha., armed witl
high power modern guns, these little
crafts would not be by any means con¬
temptible in harbor defense.
The managers of the Russian Trans-
Caspian Railroad are having a hard time
keeping the line between the Oxus Rivei
and Bokhara clear of sand. The road
passes through wastes of drifting sand
piled up in long wava-liko heaps. The
•lightest breeze causes tho top of the
crests to blow further on, and the sand
•ilts on the track in great quantities.
In the course of the year 1891 430,-
B84 immigrants were landed at the Barge
Office, New York City. Of all the coun¬
tries Germauy furnished the greatest
number, 70,496, aad Arabia the small¬
est, only one. The other nations sent the
following number of people: Ireland,
35,951; England, 22,820; Wales, 456;
Scotland, 4887; France, 4189; Russia,
52,022; Poland,- 27,400; Switzerland,
6264; Swedon, 32,426; Norway, 10,-
C00; Belgium, 2773; Italy, 65,084;
Spain, 124; Portugal, 1975; Denmark,
9024; Hungary, 25,409; Austria, 27,433;
Bohemia, 8074; Finland, 4030; Ar¬
menia, 946; Australia, fifteen; Greece,
1038, all other Countries 3969.
Julian Ralph has written an article on
Chicago for Harper’s Magazine, in which
he says: “Chicago will be tho main ex¬
hibit at tbe Columbian Exposition of
1893. No matter what tho matter\vhat
lion of wonders there, no
tho Etttle-Tower-liko chief exhibit may be,
tho city itself will make the most eurpris
ing presentation. Those who go to study
the world’s progress will find no othei
result of .. human force . so wonderful, „
ex-
travaganfc or peculiar: Those who carry
with them the prejudice begotten out ol
political rivalry or commercial envy will
— “>> <—
Bomo of tho criticism lias been—-es*
pecially as to the spirit of the Chicagoans
—the development of tho place has not
followed the logical deductions. Those
who go clear-minded, expecting to seo
» great city, will find one different from
that which any precedent has led them
to look for.”
The amount of ingenuity expended
upon tho invention of new devices for
the destruction of human life is
wonderful. Captain W. F. Peel, of the
British Army, has a new riCapon which
he calls “the magazine rifle attachment
for cavalry." Ti,U coulriraac.lo b.
fastened under the horse’s body, with the
muzzle protruding battCuon the animal’s
forelegs, and is to be discharged by the
fantry. Tho Captain maintains that a
fairly accurate and destructive fire could
be delivered in thia manner with most
demoralizing effect. Ia short, ’ ho be-
lieves that .. * cavalry , thus .. armed , would be
Irresistible. Grotesque as the idea seems
at first sight, it ha3 been thought worthy
of a trial by the military authorities, aud
Wolwley ortaed . .p„„t I
mittee to report upon a series of ex-
periments in Ireland. These do nol
appear to have jeen brilliantly successful,
but Captain Peel, in no way discouraged, b '
has started ior India with the ,, view . oi
introducing his system there.
Air. McCormack, General Agent of the
botharn and Ives, who are now in Rome,
has secured, as a special favor of th«
Pope to tho United States, the loan oi
the second Bergian or Diego Ribere map
of the world begun in 1494 and finished
in 1529, and a contemporary copy of the
same map containing the famous bisecting
line which Pope Alexander VI. drew
across it to settle the claims of Spain and
Portugal to American Territory. This is
the first map of the whole world as then
known. It was bequeathed by Cardinal
Borgia to the Vatician Library, aad is
the same which Pope Pius IX. refused to
•How the American Government to have
eveu a copy of. It is three feet by
seven,and is in an excellent state of pres¬
ervation, clean and unworn. It begins
with tho Alriucca group aud ends with
the other half. The Nile is traeed to
three lakes. Russia and Siberia are put
down as barren and unknown countries.
America makes a showy appearance with
Yucatan, Brazil and New Spain dis¬
tinctly indicated, the North terminating
with Labrador.
LIFE’S BORDER-LANDS,
~. •*
A b*b« is born, and its sobbing breath
Has touched on the shores of life and death.
Rocking to rest in a mother’s arms,
The world swings by with its lurking harms.
Sweet border-land of her love be his—
What more have kings ’mid their dynasties?
Youth comes apace as a day in June—
The song in his heart has love’s low tune.
He feels the nutter of passing wings,
While he singing toils and toiling sings.
Lore beckons afar to flowery stands—
He dreams in tho light of its border-lands.
Now the man delves deep inmines of thought
Till Ambition’s sword with Same is wrought.
On the border-land mirages loom.
And his heart goes down in waves of gloom.
O, temple of love and tender youth,
Awake your altar with lips of truth.
Return with lilies so white and rare
To twine on the fevered brow of care.
Re-give the charm of your lotus-leaves;
While peace rebinds her glory sheaves,
And hope with justice be interwoven
Till the race shall ken the joy of heaven,
Whose border land and its halo be
The life and love of eterni ty,
—Mary Baird Finch.
HIS MOTHEB-IN-LAW.
BV AMY RANDOLPH.
4 1 as OT said law, she here, in my stood a have deep mother-in- on voice, you?” the
fa threshold, grimly
surveying me with
eyes-that shone like
hard, greenish-blue
l ;VV gooseberries behind
her spectacles. For
f- such modern trifles
JvwT as eye-glasses were
as unsuited to my
mother-in-law’s fine Roman nose as a
point-lace collar would be to the Venus
ai Milo. I co ild feel her glances pene¬
trate to the very marrow of my bones;
and yet I contrived to keep a bold front,
is I stood facing her.
It was rather a curious complication.
My mother-in-law had not the least idea
who I was. I had cheerfully intended
to take her by surprise; but now that the
eventful moment had arrived, my
courage, like that of Bob Acres, as
Jefferson shows him, was cozing out at
the ends of my fingers.
My name is Richard Dalton. I was
then just twenty-one, with a face that was
3
and I had just distinguished myself by
running away with a pretty girl from
boarding school,
“? ut ’ Hick,” she had remonstrated,
„ “we ve nothing to live on.”
“Don’t be a goose, darling,” had been
my reply. All “What do people need to
l* ve on ? tho wants of this world,
more or i ess > are factitious. A crust oi
—we must bo poor, indeed, if we can’t
manage to compass that.”
Nettio had looked admiringly upon
me, and acquiesced in my argument.
We had taken board at the Angel Hill
Hotel, and began our honeymoon royally.
At the end of a month, mine host had
become a little importunate on the sub¬
ject written of his letter bill, and her, Nettie’s signifying mother had
a to that
she wanted nothing whatever to do with
us. We had made our own bed, she
signified, and now we might lie on it.
“Oh, Dick,”criod Nettie,clasping her
hands, “What are we io do?"
“Hanged if I know?” was my rather
W an krcsponse. “But don’t cry, dar-
K?'" h “
| l “She'll “She can’t have help nothing herself.” to say to you."
«*Rut, Dick, you don’t know—you
can’t have any idea—how terrible she
W sighed Nettie,
“Saint George conquered the dragon
my love,” I asserted, cheerfully, “and I
nu , an to conquer your mother! So pack
my valise, there’s a darling, aud I’ll be
°ff before the landlord comes back from
„„ f ^ . , , So
frightened Nettie,
“Tell him I’ve gone out of town, and
•ball be back in a few days,” said I,con-
bdentially.
But, valiantly as I spoke, my menial
sensations by no means corresponded
with this bold part. 1 was beginning
dimly to realize what a very unwise step
1 bad taken * and also persuaded poor
refused to receive us, I would ship my-
-sell off as second mate or third
send purser, advance or something of that sort,
my wages to my poor little
wife,and commence the world over again
in this irregular fashion.
But when I walked resolutely up to
my mother-in-law’s door,she greeted me
as if I had been expected for the last
week or so.
“You’ve come, have you?” was the
salutation.
“Well, yes,” I admitted,“I’ve come.”
“What on earth detained you?” said
she.
In my mind least about what to say,
and settled down on the first convenient
excuse that came into my head.”
“The train was delayed at Bogle-
town,” said I.
“Well, come in, now that you’re
here,” said she, “and get warm, It’s
awful cold weather for this time o’ year,
isn’t it?”
“Kinder,” said I, with an assenting
nod.
“Let me see," said my mother-ia-
law, as she took a steaming platter of
ham and eggs out of the oven and lifted
a shining coffee-pot from the stove.
How old are you?”
“One-aod-twenty,” “Do think,” said I.
you said she, pensively
feeling of her chin, “that you are able
to take care of the place? There’s a deal
to do, you know, on a farm like this.
Do you think you’re up to the work?”
“Of course I think so,” said I, won-
dering what on earth my mother-in-law
meant.
“You are married, 1 suppose?” said
she.
“Oh, yes,” said I, swallowing the hot
coffee and winking my eyes very hard,
“I’m married.”
“Can your wife make herself generally
useful about the place?” sharply de¬
manded the old lady.
“Certainly she can,” said I, begin¬
ning vaguely to see my way through the
mists of perplexity that had heretofore
obscured my brain.
“How old is she?” asked Mrs. Martin.
“Eighteen,” I answered.
Mrs. Martin frowned.
“What does possess girls to get mar¬
ried nowadays,” said she, before they’ve
left off dolls and patchwork?”
I looked thoughtfully down at the
pattern of my plate—a pink Chinaman
crossing a carmine bridge, with two very
red willows drooping at the far end of
it, and some impossible streaks of water
below—and made no direct answer. My
mother-in law was doubtlessly laboring
under a misapprehension, but I did not
exactly see that it was my business to set
her right. She had evidently engaged
a hired man, and took it for granted
that I was the personage in question.
“What can you do?” she asked,
abruptly. And with equal curtness I
responded;
“Anything.”
“Come, I like that,” said my mother-
in-law, rubbing her bands. “At least
you are not afraid of work. Do you un¬
derstand cows and horses?”
“Well—not much,” I owned. “There
were no cattle at my last place. ” (Which
was very true, for I had been a clerk in
a bank at three hundred dollars a year.)
“But I have not the least doubt that I
could soon learn, if you would kindly
show me what is expected of me.”
“Can you cut wood?” she asked.
“Certainly," said I, reflecting to my¬
self that any fool might do that.
She asked one or two questions more,
which I answered with the blind fatuity
which attends youth and confidence. She
seemed pleased with my willingness to
undertake anything and everything.
“And now about wages,” said she,
briskly. “What will you ask—foryour
own services and those of your wife—
by the month?”
I fitted the tips of my fingers reflec¬
tively together.
“As wo are both rather inexperi¬
enced,” said I, “we'll agree to work the
first month for our biytrd. After that
you shall pay us what you think we are
both worth.”
“Hum—hum!” said my mother-in-
law. “That’s a sensible proposition—a
very sensible one, indeed. Well, send
for the young woman at once. In the
meantime I’ll show you over the place,
and explain to you the nature of your
duties.”
So I hired myself out to my mother-
in-law as farm hand without further cere¬
mony, and immediatoly wrote and posted
a letter to Nettie. On my return from
the postoffice I mot a burly young man
meditating at a spot where four roads
meet.
“Can you tell me, sir," said he,
“where Airs. Abel Alartin lives?”
“Oh yes, sir; I can tell you,” I re¬
sponded, affably. “But if you’re look¬
ing for the situation of hired man I may
as well tell you that it’s filled."
The burly young man made some re¬
marks, indicative in a general way of his
opinion of the fickleness of womankind
and departed, whilst I returned rejoic¬
ing, to the old farmhouse.
“Here’sa very nice beginning,” said I
to myself. “It is now my business to
give as much satisfaction as possible.”
Fortune favored me, in more ways
thau one. Aly mother-in-law sprained
her ankle on the second day, and I
played cook as well as man-of-all-work
with distinguished success, and I had
the satisfaction of hearing her say to
old Miss Priscslla Perkins that “she
didn’t know when she’d taken such a
notion to anyone as she had to' the new
hired man!”
“He’s too young and good-looking to
suit me,” observed Aliss Priscilla purs¬
ing up her steel-trap of a mouth.
“He is good-looking, ain’t he?” said
my mother-in-law. “But he's dreadful
handy about the house, and he ain’t one
bit atraid of work. And you’d ought
to have seen tlje oysters he stewed for
my supper last night, and the cup of tea
he made. Why, I don’t miss Jemima
Stiles one bit. If only Nettie could
have staved single till she met such a
man as this 1”
I smiled to myself as I laid out the
kindling for the breakfast fire. My ac¬
complishments as “Jack-of-all-trades”
had never done me much good before.
But now they were certainly winning me
some credit in the world.
At the end of the third day she had
told me the whole story of her daugh¬
ter’s runaway match with “a good-for-
nothing young city chap.” On the
fourth day she had consulted with me
as to whether it was better to put the
forty-acre lot into oats or rye, and I had
won her heart by taking to pieces the
old hall-clock, which had not gone for
ten years, and restoring it to running or¬
der once again.
And on the evening of the same day
Nettie arrived, all blushing aud trem¬
bling.
“Oh, Dick,” said she, “is she very
angry?” “she
“My dear,” said I, hasn’t an
idea who I am."
“But, Dick—”
“No ‘buts,’ my darting,” said I,
cheerfully “Let us be Julius Caesar
over again. ‘We come; we see; we con¬
quer.’ ”
And I dragged my unwilling little wife
into the back-room, where my mother-
in-law lay on a sofa, nursing her ankle.
“Here’s my wife, ma'am,” said I,
“and I hope she'll give satisfaction.”
Mrs. Martin jumped up, spite of the
wounded ankle.
“Nettie!” she cried, in blank amaze¬
ment.
“Oh, mother, mother!” faltered Net¬
tie, throwing both hands around the old
lady’s neck, “please forgive me this time,
and I’ll never, never elope again.”
“Please, ma’am, we’il be good, added
And my mother-in-law relented on the
spot. How could she do otherwise?
“Henrietta,” said she, “you’ve been a
naughty girl—there’s no denying that.
But your husband seems a handy man
about the house, and I’m tired of living
here alone. So take off your things and
go to work getting supper. As for you,
Richard—"
“Yes, ma’am, I know,” saidl.
been playing a double part and deceived
you all along. But I wanted you to like
me—and you know,” I added, “all is
fair in love and war!”
“Well, I do like you—a little,” ad¬
mitted my mother-in-law. “And now
that I have seen you, Dick, I don’t so
much wonder at the way Nettie be¬
haved.”
After that, she never scolded us any
more. And I honestly believe that this
is the only case on record in which a
mother-in-law was conquered in so brief
a campaign. Nettie says she doesn’t
know how-Idid it. In fact, I don’t quite
know, myself—New York Ledger.
A Tramp’s Good Fortune.
Seven years ago Harry Schrader livec
in Indiana. He is the son of Adam
Schrader, of Water street, and is not yel
thirty years of age. He entered the
bakery of C. U. Gessler, and after t
year’s work there he went to Philadel¬
phia and completed his trade. Then he
took a notion there was room for him it
the far West and started there to make
his fortune. But fortune is fickle, and
often those who woo it ne’er so hard are
doomed to disappointment. In his jour-
neyings toward the sunset one misfortune
after another overtook and sometime!
nearly overwhelmed our Harry, until one
day be thought he had gotten to the bot¬
tom rung of misery's lander. This event¬
ful day was some seven years ago, when,
as the shades of night were falling fast,
he entered the city of Durango, Col.,
barefooted, hungry, unkempt and sorely
disheartened and with only a few
hoarded dollars m his clothes. He
hunted up a bakery and was promptly
given employment.
At the end of the tenth day his boss
took the silver fever and sold out to
Harry, and he found himself in the pos-
session of an oven, a long handled feel,
half a dozen pans, two sacks of flour and
enough yeast to set one batch, in a
month he was fairly prospering, and ai
the enn of a year he was looking around
for something to invest his surplus cap-
ital in. This materialized in the shape
of a tract of fifty-five acres of land just
outsiue ’the then city limits, and was not
considered particularly valuable. He
bought it and waited. Silver mining
became a great pursuit in tlio surround-
ing mountains. Durango grew and be-
came the seat of supplies for the thou-
sands of prospectors hunting for silver j
lodes. The growth of the town was
phenomenal, and grew over Harry’s
fifty-five acres, and the chapparal farm
increased m value. He builc a half doz-
en brick houses, and a fine three-story
brick for his bakery business, and for a
wife he took about the time of the boom,
He now controls the entire bakery trade
of the city and handles vast quantities
of flour and mercantile breadwarc. i
Fifty thousand dollars would not induce 1 I
him to part with his possessions to-day,
and the barefooted tramp who entered
Durango seven years a<*o is now recof- i
as one of the city’s most sub¬
and progressive citizen.—Iu-
(Penn.) Messenger.
Mine Hero Meern.
One of the most remarkable acts of
bravery ever shown in a mine or any¬
where else was that ot H. P. Meern at
the Alleghanv mine, thirteen miies from
Cumberland, Md., August 31, 1889. On
that day forty-five men went down into
the mines to their work as
usual. Everything went well for a few
hours, but suddenly a thin wall which
separated the Alleghany from an old
mine, long disused and full of water,
collapsed. The flood rushed into thf
passages of the Alleghany with a great
roar that told those above its level what
had happened. It was ascertained that
there was a possibility that the miners
had climbed to places of safety and es¬
caped the flood, but hour alter passed
and no tidings came from them to the
frautic crowd of relatives and friends
above. No one could suggest a way ol
reaching the entombed men until H. P,
Aleern volunteered to find them or die. :
Alany protested against his decision, but
he insisted upon being lowered into the
“l 110 -
At the bottom of the shaft the water
was as high as his neck; but, undaunted,
he struck out, swimming toward the j
place where he knew the miners were. \
The water was full of debris. Once oi
twice the lonely swimmer came suddenly
on the floating body of a dead mule in
the darkness, aud his Augers, as he
bravely struck out, constantly felt the
wriggling, slimy bodies of mine rats in
the water. But he neve, faltered. At
last he reached the chamber where th«
miners had been at work, and found
them—every one alive. They were
pearched on ledges projecting . from the
side of the mine. Their lamps had gone
out and they were hoplessly waiting for
deach ;,
In the excitement ., ....... which followed ... Hr.
Meern s arrival a boy fell from his perch
into the water. Meern felt about un-
til he found him, placed him on his
shoulders, and shouted to the men to
follow him, started back toward the bot-
tom of the shaft Those who could not
swim were helped by those who could,
and, at last piloted by this Brave man,
they reached safety. Not a man w*
seriously injured—New York P ress.
The tramp has reached the hay-day oi
Blaine Tells a Story on His Health.
Blaine told a good story “to a prom¬
inent citizen who, for certain reasons,
does not want his name mentioned,” il
iustratiye of the sensational reports of
his sickness which are going about the
country, and which he declares are and
have been for a year largely imaginary.
“I have told this story before,” said
Mr. Blaine, “but not with the present
application. It is about a man who was
carrying something across the Fulton
street ferry in a box. Every now and
then be would open the box curiously,
peep in. and then close it mysteriously.
His action excited the attention of a
naturalist who was seated near him, and
who Anally touched him on the elbo w and
said
“ ‘I beg pardon, but I am curious to
know what you have got in that box.
What is it?’
“ ‘Oh, I don't want to tell,’ replied the
man.
“ ’Well, let me look in,’ said the nat¬
uralist.
“ ‘I’m afraid to,’ replied the stranger,
‘it might get all over the boat.’
“ ‘Is it a savage animal?’
“ ‘Yes, kills everything.’ Then the
natn peeped in again. Growing mor
curious, the naturalist begged him to
tell its name.
“ ‘It’s a kil-ma-roo,’ ae said, ‘from
Central Africa—a very savage beast;
eats men aud everything.’
“ ‘What do you feed it on?’ inquired
the naturalist.
“ ‘Snakes, sir; plain snakes.’
“ ‘But where do you get snake?
enough to feed such a ravenous monster ?’
said the eager man of science.
it t Well, sir, my brother in Brooklyn
has the delirium tremens, and when he
sees snakes by the thousand we just
catch ’em aud—
“ ‘Oh, ttiat won’t do,’ interrupted the
naturalist; ‘you cau’t feed a beast ot
imaginary snakes!’
tt t Weil, the fact is,’ said the man,
opening the box and blowing in it, ’
‘don’t give it away, but this is an imag-
inary kil-ma-roo.’
“ When the lie is taken off and the
box looked into," said Mr. Blaine, “the
correspondent discovers that my sicaces?
is an imaginary kil-ma-roo.”—Minneapo
lis Tribune.
Class Distinction in Chile,
agriculturist, T he . P e ? n ’ t] ) Q A tru docile, , e ^ , borG J fair a *
is a worker,
a PP a re Qt 7 wantl “g > n “oral sense,
H a " n & but h ? bas n0 ldea
of f ^ n T to a degree, taking ,
. ^ at of the technicalities,
“ once easier
e stops shor^. then, and rarely can go
further ou. Ha loves his old-fashioned
W ?^ s * With a poncho for a vestment,
with a calabash for a drinking vessel, he
w satisfied with bread or beans or onions,
^ 10 P etm “ * alr J religious, but his
“ cwcr cre0ti ls tlQ g ed w5tU the older In-
“ lan superstition.
Distinctions . of class are marked in
Chile. “There are the white men and
tbe common herd, the creoles and
P® 01163 the former, lords and undisputed
meters-, the latter, resigned and ua-
reg lstere “ slaves. ThiB same slighting
working people, of French, Swiss,
Gorman, or English who have made
® their home, has brought about a
certain oitterness of feeling. Air. Child
states that all foreigners are styled
_“S Tm S°'b and find neither sympathy
impartiality on the part of the govern-
ln ° P°* er - Tbere bas beca of late years
* decidedly jealous> feeling in regard tc
foreigners, though ideas of further ina-
““gration aro entertained. From Vat-
dma t0 tbe stralt tbcre is aa enormous
8tretch of country, which the Chileans
be!iere would be best suited to Scandi-
navians; but the colonization system is
wanting in organization, the means at
the disposal of the Government inade-
quate. Hardy colonists from Norway
and Sweeden, with their instinct of
freedom, would hardly like to be rated
m public consider* ion as peons.
Chile is fairly weil provided with rail-
roads. These work their way across
the country, and considering how thinly
populated is Chile, the travel is large,
H° ads parallel with the coast are not
nlat| y nor extended. On her land side
^ be r ‘dges of t be Andes guard Chile from
^ be Argentine Republic, for that sister
state stretches along for some 2000
mlles ; °. n the sea slde ab fence of liar-
bors is Chiles protection, in one sense,
while such an extended shore is not.
—Harper’s Weekly,
Sale of the Average Novel.
The fact is, asserts Edward W. Bok,
that the average novel does not exceed
one thousand copies in its sale. Alore-
over, publishers fix that as a limit tc
their first printing. A novel, like a book
of short stones, is a risk, aud every pub-
lisher knows it. Of course, he always
hopes that each novel will prove the ex-
ception, and reach a large sale. Butdis-
appointment is the result in a great ma-
jority of cases. Once in a while a novel
will create an immense amount of talk,
hut even ia such a case a sale of 3000
copies is tne exception rather than the
mle and the novel that touches the 5000
mark is indeed a rarity. Some of the
most famous novels of the widest known
-writers have barely exceeded the last
figur6) aad one that i have Sn mind]
which, five years ago, was in everybody’s
mouth and talked about in almost every
d rawing-rocm in the land, only sold 7000
CO pies. Paragraphs placed its sale at
35)000 copieS) aud 1 reme mber the au-
thor himself telliQg me of his iatense a5 _
touis h me nt when he received his royalty
statement from the publishers. He tad
, ieard so much of the novel his ha(J
met daily the wonderful figures circu-
latedf and he had come t0 beliepc hi
se lf that the sale must have been phenom-
cnaL Hls m03t coaservatIve estimate
wa3 2 0,000 copies. The novel has now
stopped selliag altogether aad its authnr
lokl me on , last weel , that the {
sa ; es 0 f the book, all told, had been
,,wisely 7241 copies. And this was
ouo of the mo8t talked-about novels of
TeaUbout^ho^rep'uted^ales 6 ^ novelf
UNSEEN FRIENDS. ^
How many are the friends we do not see
Nor hear, as thro’ the open door they come
and go,
With voices full of wondrous melody
Ami footsteps soft as sunshine, to and fro.
We cannot touch their hands, yet they ar«
near,
Our lips are impotent their language to
repeat,
Their smiles beguile ns not, we see no tear
Nor walk their way adown the mystic
street.
They lead us it were with silken bond.
They bend above with yearning tender¬
ness,
The songs they sing are breaths of memory
fond
And glint of heaven adorns their shining,
dress.
By day, by night, in watting hope or pain,
When the starved lips so long for one
caress,
These friends, whoe’er they be, uusight, un¬
seen,
With joy up raise their willing hands to
bless.
And when toward horns the soul returns
alone,
And the drawn sob of parting wets the
wearied eye,
We hear a mellow murmur in the undertone
That bids the heart look into golden sky.
f —F. C. Huntington, in Chicago Post.
PITH AND POINT.
Looks like sixty—LX.—Life.
“Hard times along the border”—Hem
ming by hand.—Puck.
In spite of all news items to the con¬
trary, the oldest inhabitant is nevet
dead.—Puck
One of the most difficult things to do
is to make a dimple of a wrinkle.—
Galveston News.
A good many men are more interested
in having work than poverty abolished.
—Texas Siftings.
The person possessed of an idlo cu¬
riosity has a curiosity that is never idle.
—Boston Transcript.
T-he shopping woman may be a trifle
shop-worn, but there’s no discount on
her.--Philadelphia Record.
“Oh, mamma, why does the preacher
always say ‘lastly’ in the middle of his
sermon?”—Galveston News.
There’s many a man who would ru»
away if he did not have to take himself
along.—Indianapolis Joarnal.
An Irish philosopher says that if we
do not strive for that which is out of our
reach we will never get it.—Puck.
She spent two years in learning how
To trim herself a bonnet.
But when she married, lo! she put
A milliner upon it.
-Cloak Review,
When a man is negative and his wife
Is very positive, a lively battery in the
family is a natural incident.—Boston
Post.
A woman delights in a speaking ao*
quaintance, especially if she is permitted
to do most of the speaking.—Bingham-
ton Republican,
The other fellow is always getting off
the good thing we were just on the
point of tossing to a benighted world.—
Boston Journal.
The man who has too much self-respect
to “ arr y for m ° ne J> W|U ° ftca re3< f t to
pretty slippery tactics m a business trana-
ac 10u - uc •
There are two kinds of dogs, the good
kind which belongs to yourself and the
worthless cur that is kept by your neigh-
bor—Boston Transcript.
A man is like a postage stamp. When
he is badly stuck on himself, as it were,
fie is not worth two cents for any prac-
tical use—Chicago Tribune,
a ___________ — “Butane .
trusts a°friend educates him.
truster often gets the most experimental
knowledge —Cdumbus Post,
Tramp _ (beginning)—“I’ve better
seen
days.” Citizen—“Yes, indeed, So
have I. Nasty day, isn’t it? Hope it
will clear oil soon.”—Yankee Blade.
The woman you would call a poem is
not the woman you would call in the
morning to kindle the breakfast fire and
fry the flapjacks.—Richmond Recorder.
They Re told went a-riding—in due course
his passion with much vim—
How gracefully she sat her horse;
Row gracefully she sat on him-!
Rider and Driver.
Air. Neer—“What ought we to do,.
Doctor, as a community, in order to—
er—meet the grip?” Dr. Blunt—“Don’t
meet it, my dear sir. Avoid it.”—Chi¬
cago Tribune.
The discovery of the grip bacillus bears,
about the same relation to the cure of
the disease that the discovery of a “clew"
does to the capture of a criminal.—In¬
dianapolis Journal.
“Only love me a little bit and I will
be your faithful, willing slave.” “But
where is the fun in that? What a girl
really enjoys is managing an unwilling
slave.”—Indianapolis Journal.
Room at the Top He—“I don’t see-
what people keep dairies for; I can keep
all my affairs in my head.” “She—
“That’s a good way, too; but not every
one has the room.”—New York Sun.
Filkins—“Dr. Killum has paid five
visits to our house.” Bilkins—“Myi
At §10 a visit? That’s expensive.”
Filkins—“It’s only §10. The last fout
he was after his money.”—Brooklya
Life.
Bullzon—“What do you think of this
new story they’ve sprung on the reading
public, that Washington didn’t cross the
Delaware at Trenton in boats at all, but
on a raft?” Bayres—“It sounds like a
clumsy kind of—ter—rafter thought.”—
Chicago Tribune.
“I suppose, Freddy, you love your
sister very much,” said the gentleman
who was paying his addresses to Freddy’s
sistei.” Freddy—-“I love her when
there’s fellers around. She’s mighty
good to me tben, but she is cross as th«
mischief after they’re gone. She’s like a
fiddle—she’s no good without a bean.”
-Wasp.