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VOL. XXVI. NO 46 NOVEL OF THE FUTURE. HOW IT. WIT,L DIFFER FROM THE NOVEL OF THE PRESENT. As i) s- it o'. prefatory note it in»y b- *<-11 11 . c;.>i at tentiou to the fact that the novel of the lit use will differ very material ly from the novel of tho past or the novol of the proseut. A yery different environment nnd very different manners and cus toms must of necessity result in a novtfl wholly unlike those we know and have known. With JBis explanation it should be easy to understand tho accom panying outline story. I. “I will be yours,” she said. “You could not have pleaded your case better oven if you had taken a course in law and de voted most of your attention to the subject of special pleadings. I will be yours; you shall be mine; we will be each’s.” The reader will note that this scene would come just about the middle of the novol of the past, but that merely shows how ad vanced we are. 11. The wedding bells rang out merrily. They always do, es pecially in stories. It was a gala occasion for all except the membeos of the En franchis'd Woman’s club, to which tho bride had belonged, »nd which naturally regretted that she should abandon a fu- ture that was so full of promise and bring herself down to the level of the women of. previous times. In conformity with the usages of the club the members all attended, wearing black crape bands on their white fedo ra huts as the insignia of their woe. However, it was a gala occa sion for all the rest, and the welding was celebrated with all the customary formalities and festivities. The reader will note that this is the kind of a scene that he might expect to gel at tho end of an ordinary love story of tho present day. 111. “Well ?” “Well?” At the conclusion of this choice bit pf repartee husband sn 1 wife glared fiercely at each other. Things have been gradually approaching a crisis, and it now looked as if they had reached it. Both had special meetings at their clubs for that night, and so it happened that both could not go. “I gave up enough for you,” the said at last, “wheu I gavt up all that a true woman nat urally d* sires in order to marry you, and yet you are not satis fied, I gave up my political as pirations and resigned from 8 of my lb clubs, but >ou —you— why, you have no more regard for me, no more love and le spect than to try to force me down to the level of the old fashioned woman!” Thereupon she gave him the mocking laugh ami left him to look after the house. IV. “I have loft for the land oj freedom. ” T tin * rea l the note that she fouud up Mi the table one eve ning when she returned Irom a meeting of the Soci tv For the Discussion of the Duties o' Wives atul Mothers. “Ahal” she cri‘*d. “Okla homa !’’ Then she sank down in her easy chair ami buried hot face in her hands “Well so be it.” she said st last- “It returns me to the gruud and noble work lor the benefit o f woman and human ity that 1 so thoughtlessly and foolishly abandoned. Ah, how weak 1 was! But it is “hard to _ shake off the influence of he Wiiity, and, so far us I can «sarn, oiy parents and grand jjjiireiits all had the same weak absurd us it seems now.” V. And so they wore divorced and lived happily ever atur ward.— Chicago Post. L A mad dog does not foaui at Ihe mouth as is commonly he ](evert. The discharge from the rrouth, is small in quantity, brownish in c lor. and ham* about the ‘lips like strips of gum. m - »• m HiPaos Tabules cure flatulence. B,pa.is Tabules: at druggists. Bipans Tabulee cure bad breath. Ilt »n« I’al.iilM hainsri pair. The Gwinnett Herald. THE OLD BLACK NURSE. Smith Clayton in Atlanta Jour nal. Walking along an unfrequent ed street last night just before the iron tongue spoke 12, the sound of softened came floating from a cluster rude houses iu« garden plot hard by. * * * I stopped and listened: The chanting rose and fell weirdly ] with the gentle midnight breeze, and now and then, freighted with infinite sadness, 1 caught the magic words, Far From the Old Folks at Home! And as, at last, the mingled voices died most mournfully upon the air, the soul sweeps back to the olden, golden days of love aud hope and peace, and I catch a vision of tho old black nurse upon the old plantation. And through the mist of years and tears around her snowy head tho cotton fi dds do seem to bloom agniu—and in the waving of her*dear old arms th« purple smoke doth curl | above the cabin in tl e lane * « * In her sad smile I see onse more the light of the old log fire, and beyond her gleaming teeth and shining eyes I can but maik the diamond d.wn upon old musters dew-decked lawn. * * * Her trembling limbs bring j back again the yellow leave a-quiver as th-V fall within the | grove, and in the broken music j of her voice 1 seem to hear tin murmur of the creek below the hill. And, in her sobs, as bend ing low her head, I catch the I crooning of the solemn [lines above old Chloe‘s grave! . j Sing on. old trees! for never was the lullaby of babe so low and soft, nor velvet throat ol thrush so silver sweet ns that same saddened note which wco me back to days long gone. Sing low, old trees! Ye mimic mourners of tie dear and dead, lest ebm your muffled mono tone should mar the dreamless dust of her whose patient smile did banish earklingcare—whose withered hand did smooth the pillow of pain—whose crackling voice was wont to woo the weary child to rest! Sing low, old trees! for every wrinkle in her honored cheek some heart was made to smile for every tremor of her teeble frame some life took rosy hopes; for every sob above her, loved, though lost, some sorrowing soul is lifted to the light ot other days! MUST MARRY WITHIN A YEAR. FIVE BACHELORS BIND THEM SELVES BY OATH TO BE COME HUSBANDS. Chicago Tim s Herald. Shelbyyilll, Ind., —Five badhelors of this town have ta ! k ‘U oath that they will be mar ,ri >d by Christmas day ot 18R7 j or pay an awful penalty. They are all well-to-do, gooil j looking and healthy. They I have formed themselves into a j club called “The Coming Bern i diets” and have registered then I oaths to be husbauds beforo a ; magistiate. These gentlemen are Dr. Sam u 1 Kennedy, a widely know physician; John Messiek, a leading druggist of this city: John It. De Prey, assistant cashier of the Shelby Bank; William Talbert, a prominent lumber man, raid Edward Swain, who is likewise eugageo in the lumber trade. The five gave themselves a Christmas dinner at the Hotel Ray, at which Mosaick an nounced that he has grown tired to prodding himself trying to sew on buttons and gave notice to his friends that he would soon be married. The others seotfed at. him. but finally wer* brought over to his view of life., A compact was drawn up and and sworn to by all. AH swear that they will be married by Dec. 25, lbo7, ami will with their wives meet at the Ray for tie ir dinner on thut dav. Tile one who tails his word engages himself to be pres ent at the dinner, bound and gagged and in charge ot th< sheriff, besides forfeiting HOP to«aeb of the others. Daddy-Ycm must go to school; regular or you won't learn nut tin. Cuflv —Did you go regular? Daddy—Yes,indeed. I never ■nisse I but one day. Cutfie—l wundeef you'd have known enny more thin you do »i you had gone ttiet day * LAWRENCEVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JANUARY 26th 1897. WHAT HAPPENED Aunt Patty awoke onrlv with the bright April morning, feel ing sure something was going to happen. Sim had heard High Top Calvin, the king of the flock, crow nine times at mid night, and Lvmpftthy Limp, the lame white pullet, was cackling before sunrise. As the moments passed, and Aunt Patt.V began [Hitting on the gar ments that lay so smooth and orderly on a high-backed chair, she felt surer and surer her con victions would come true. She put one stocking on wrong side out, the right shoe on the left foot, and skipped three holes in lacing her stays. She tried twice to put both arms into one sleeve of her dress, and button-! ed it by leaving two holes at the top with no buttons, and two j buttons at tho bottom with no I holes. She could no longer■ still her reasoning, but burst j out, — “Patty Prentice, you arc n fool!” Just as she had got the re fractory buttons into place i there came a prolonged knock ! at the porch door below. “Oh, dear me!” she said,) “what’s coming now? Some body must bo dead.” Her thoughts and tongue ran I swiftly as she tried to untie the j night-cap strings that in her hurry had got into a hard knot, j “P’raps it’s Deacon Hopkins’j wife. Belinda Johnson said J last night the doctor said she couldn’t pull through; or may-j be it’s Martha .Tames’ husband’s mother; she's awful feeble. Or what if it slioufd be Joe Back us’ boy Jim! He always throws a stone at Sancho every time he passes here”—Sancho is her cat —“They say Jim’s likely to get killed any time ” Aunt Pally had conquered the strings and hung the cap on the lied post. She started down the narrow stairs, still thinking of Sancho’s persecu tor, and repeating, “The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord.” She crossed the kitchen and reaching the porch moved aside 'rom the door the wood box with its pile of tin pans. Aunt Patty had not the protection of a man n the house. “But tiff pans make as much noise as a man, any time,” she said, “and per haps are at good in protecting.” She slid back the bolt, turned the button, and asked anxious ly.— “What is it ?” “Mover wants you to come right over. Aunt Putty,” a child ish voice said. “She’s got un expected company. Don’t stop co get any breakfast. I ain’t had none, neiver. ” “Unexpected company,” re peats Aunt Patty. “I wonder if the day will over come when 1 am not at the beck and call ■f ev> rybody's company and piicd-up mending basket .’’ But [ -he reaches out, puts the child’s j head, and kindly savs, “Well, come in, Johnnie, and you can | -at some doughnuts while I’m getting ready.” Her doughnuts aro known to| . v-ry ehi'd in the village; they ire a generous kind, or, as the ■hild r» 'll say, ‘not all hole.’ It is a bright gleam of sunshine in her lonely life that children l lovo her, and many childish -orr ws and wrongs are soothed by her ready sympathy and the contents of the uever-empty tin box in the square cupboard. Aunt Patty.is soon ready, for she is not a precise old maid who must leavy everything at au exact angle. She often says, “There are old maids from com pulsion, and old maids from choice, and I am a sort of be twixt ami between.” But many of the village pen pic remember the lover of Aunt Put ty. s girlhood, and often over the tea cups has the prediction! been given—' “They’ll both get tired ol living alone, and make it all | up. You see if they don’t.” Jolumie feeds the liens while Aunt Patty puts Sancho’s break fast under the doorstep, with the always added admonition — “Now, Suncho, if you see Jim Backuscomiug, run right under j the heu-houso.” She closes the gate, ami stops ,to look at the lilac lmsh, and thinks of the purple plumes hidden so closely in the bright I green buds. “How kind Nature is to all life entrusted to its care!” slm | says; “and it never makes it mistake.” She thinks how sweetly (lie birds sing, and how much of life there is in tho bright spring j morning. She finds herself singing— “lf it were always May. sweet heart, j If it were always May." She stops suddenly, remem bering the weight of nearly fifty* years. But she cannot close her eyes to tile swelling buds and sweet awakening t hat .shows ;at every step along the road- J side. They cross the narrow bridge, and Johnnie, growing impatient, runs ahead and | calls, — “Let us hurry, now. Aunt ; Patty, for mover‘is waitin’.” She follows Johnnie into tlie | ! house, through the long entry, land stops just at the parlor I door to leave her bonnet and : . I shawl. She hears the child’.-j voice— “l didn’t tell! 1 didn’t tell! Now, Uncle John, tliv me the j candy.” Mrs'. Hastings meets her at | the door and says in a glad ; Voice, — “Uncle .John has come hack, Aunt Patty, and we want you j here for a nice long day.” She hears another voice speak her name, she feels a warm ’’hand clasp hers, and like one in a 1 1 ream she enters the room. She hears the quest ions and re plies, but nil sound far away— only Johnnie’s happy voice, seems real. “You ain’t got to ,l,> tinllin today Aunt I’attv —nut mend, nor nufFui’. Mover -aid -n—didn't -die, I'nclc John “Unless she will nu nd a bro ken life,” lie slowly answer?. “1 dess she can,” savs John nie, “for mv working boss dot his tail bowked 611, and she stuckt it on jist as good as ever.” Aunt Patty takes the mend ing basket, thankful for otua to busy herself with its con tents. So the quiet spring day goer on. Neighbors drop in to so the wanderer. Talk of travels, Western life, and many rhang ing scenes she hoars, but hot own heart is treading tin- patl | that thirty years have made. Many pictures were dim am almost forgotten; but tod a' the tires of memory are all light ed, and every image is shown in truthful outline. The hustj words, the parting, the wuititq and uncertainty, and then tie lonely years. The sunbeams had just laiW to enter the west window a Aunt Patty folded the last gar ment and put the needles am: thimble into the work hag. Sli* spoke of Suncho and the hem needing their supper, and hur riedly put on her bonnet am shawl. .A tall form waits at the door and together they walk dowi the path, neross the bridge am’ along the country road. Th«\ talk but little. Each heart i asking and answeriug its owi questions. They enter tie* yard: she closes the guto, and turning to the road, they stand am gaze at the picture. There i* the green meadow below will thi winding river, the blue hill beyond, all softened with the lights of spring sunset. Sh<- sees it all tonight with a girl’s clear eyes of long ago. H> speaks her name; she turns t see him standing with It cud bowed and hands clasped. “Patty,” he says, “will you repeat the words you said her* at the gut., thirty years ago: ‘You are all *to blame. Join Hastings. 1 will never inarrt you,’ and leave the never out ?’’ Her face shows a startled look that changes to a lender ( smile, and soft ly sin* answers: “i will leave the never out.” And that’s what liap|s*iml.— Exchange. Small Sister— How do you s ’pose peoples way up noit tee; warm in de winter, Bobby? Small Brother (scornfully)— Why, wliut does you s’pose de lur-twees is for?—Cincinnati Commercial Tribune. A voting lady refers to the time she sju'iids in trout ot her j mirror as “nionienits of reilec 1 tion.” WHEN PEOPLE CATCH COLD. The "cold spots,” meaning thereby the surface a lefts pecu liarly susceptible to cold, are principally the nape of the neck .mi tlfe lower part of the back of the head, the front of the j abdomen and the shins. The acute discomfort and the sense of impending disaster w hich re sult from the steady play of a current of cold air upon the neck from behind are well known. The necessity of keeping the abdomen warmly clad is also generally recognized, though perhaps not as generally carried into practice. Curiously enough, few people are conscious of the danger they run by exposing the usually in adequately protected shins to currents of cold air. This is the usual way in which colds are caught on omnibuses. When driving, one takes cure to cover j the legs with a rug or water proof, but an the more demo- 1 cratio conveyance ruggs are not j often available, and the reek-; less passenger by and by awak ens to the fact that the iron lias; entered into his soul —in other! words, that he has “caught ; cold." People who wear stockings, j such as highlanders, golfers nnd ! cyclists, invariably take the [ire caution of turning the tlii**k woolen material down over thet shins, the better to protect them against loss of heat, though in- j cidentally the artificial embcll- j ishment of the calves may not lie altogether foreign to ilie ma Denver. This is an instance of iow all things work together! nr good. It does not, ot course, ol low because certain areas are peculiarly susceptible to cold that a chill may mu be convey ed to the nervous system from other points. Prolonged sitting on a stone, ! •>r even on the damp gruss, is I veil known to be a fertile source I of disease, aud wet, cold feet re also, with reason, credited! with paving tlm wav to an early ; grave.—London Medical Press. NOVEL WEDDING CERE MONY. The novel spectacle of a man and wqnmn dressed in bridal costume riding on yoked bicy cles up to a clergyman and go ing through the form of mar riage was witnessed by an audi ! ence of over 60<> curious people |in the gymnasium of Temple | College quite recently. Mr. ! and Mrs. George W. Robb, ac | live members of Grace Baptist church, whose happy wedded ife is of eighteen years’ stand ting, were the central figures in the net, and they took their .veddiug vows anew before their pastor, Rev. Russell II Con well, The central part of the flour was roped off, aud as Mr. Con well took a position at one end if the enclosed space a door at the opposite end swung open and a pair of daiutiiy-uttired little flower-bearers rode forth hi coupled wheels. After mak* ing a few turns around the arena, they were joined by five sets of bridesmaids and ushers, and finally by tin* bride and groom, all similarly mounted. The atteudiug couples were Louis Kirlin and Miss Marian Neisser, Frank Burt<> und Miss Ada Tracey, Charles Briggs ami Miss Ola Hiunim 11, Frederick Wishart and Miss Olive Logan, Llewellyn Propert and Mrs. Frederick Wishart. Tin* (low er-bearers were Master Harrison Karens and Miss Edna Winter. Pink cycling suits, with leg git,s and jaunty caps to match, added to the charms of tin* fair maids. Their escorts wore knickerbockers ami had pink carnations on their coats. The bride and groom wore white cos tumes und rode on white ma chines, she carrying a big bunch of chrysanthemums and In* dis playing a big bunch of red and 1 1 1 tie ou the lapel of his coat. Slowly they circled about ami then lined up in front of the minister, dismounted, and the pledges of eighteen years before were renewed —Philadelphia Record. T*aeher—llow old ur*' you, Willie ? Willie—l'm live at home, six at school and four in the ears * tUysus Tabules. THE BITTER BIT. Ina I’m 11 man ra ron the Man chester, Sheffield and Lincoln shire railway, the other week, a young traveler not iced an old white-haired gi-ntiemnn trying to get into a light dust-coat. I The. young man nftlied to his assistance, and in helping him • with the garment noticed a : a good-sized whiskey ilusk pro truding from one of the pock ets. Being of a waggish nature, he appropriated the bottle, helped the stranger on with his coat, nnd.thcn pulling out the Mask said, “Will you lake a drink ?” The old man did not recog nize the bottle, aud drawing himself up, remarked rather severely: “No, sir. 1 never drink.” “It won't hurt you,”insisted the wag. “It’s the best.” “Young man,” sail I the old gentleman, speaking loud enoughjfor all in the carriage to hear, “if you persist in drink ing whiskey yon w ill be a ruined manat forty. It is the curse! of the land. When 1 was a boy j my mother died, and the last; thing she did was to <-nll me to) her* bedside and say, ‘John, promise me that you will never touch a drop of liquor.’ ” “Oh, well, in that ease,” said the joker, “I must drink it my-1 self," and suiting the action to the words, lie pulled out the cork nnd took a good drink. A moment later lie dropped! the bottle, nnd with an excla mation which certainly did not • sound like a blessing, yelled out: “Ugh,ugh! My mouth’s all raw!” Then it was the old gentle man discovered his loss, and to the amusement of the other passe tigers said: “Ah. young man, you will be earetul in lu ture before you lake other peo ple’s property. lam Dr. , ami that lioti le contained some quinine and iron for my pa-; limits.” The young man got out at the next station. HE RAISED THEM. A few nights ago a miner fruin the North who hud lately sold a claim, had money to hum, and was in an incendiary mood, conn* dowu to Spokane to make the currency bonfire. lie was rather rusty looking when lie struck Spokane, but he was hungry, and before going to a barber shop or hath, drop ped into an up-town restaurant to get something to eat. There was hut one waiter, anti he, busy carrying champagne to a party at another table, paid lit tle attention to the hard-looking miner. Finally the waiter was called over, when the miner said: “See here, kid 1 Do I eat?” “Sorry, 1 can’t wait on you now,” was the prompt reply, “hut the gentlemen there have just ordered a flfty-dollar din ner.’' “Fifty-dollar dinner he hanged ! Rring me $10(1 worth of ham and eggs and he <|uick about it ! Do 1 look look like a guy who can he bluffed by a mess of popinjays ?” He was waited upon prompt ly.—Spokane (Wash.) Review. BRIGHT BITS. H**—Would your mother let you g*> to the theatre without a chapel one? She —Not unless 1 was en gaged . Itrow'ii—\\ Init is the nature of the proposed amendment to the Ramus law? Jones—lt provides that, in addition to calling a saloon a [hotel, the bartender must he known ns a chef. l'uck. l*o«t—*l<et nif It'll you, sir,; tliut | mm'iii cost in#* h week's! hard labor. Kill tor (who lias nail ii) —ln, that all all ? If I’ll have lmil thepunting ofjthe s##nt<*tiOf you’ll huve got a month —Tit-Bit*. Cabana—Pel ymi know v'iior tioim hail applied for a |»#*n sion? Lovell—No; oi, what ground*. Cabana—Say* lie luisstruincd Ida lung* yelling for war with Spain.—Philadelphia North American. He wu* about a* blank a> the traditional uee of spudes, anil two ducky damsels, each of whom claimed the right to call him husband, sat holt upright in the court room and glared at the defendant. “Yo'r honor,” *aid the pris oner, 1- f want to apply for a change of vellll* in tin* ease.” “(>ll what ground*'.'” inquired tin* court ”1 want a change of veiitt*,” re pea tad the defendant, “be cause one of tlese women is prej udiced ug’iu me,”—Troy Time*. 1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE Highest of all in Leavening Power.—Latest U. S. Gov’t Report Absolutely pure M‘CrLLAGH‘S NEW WORD, I* rom St. Louis GlobfoDt'ino crat. The word “gabfest," now met with Iso frequently m newspa per columns, was invented by the late Joseph B. McCullagh, and.liist used inn Glolie-Deiiio jeratjmragraph early last year. I It was rapidly adopted through •out the county. A study of ! the words coined by Mr. McCul lagh andlnowlajpart of the En glish language wherever it is tisedlwould show that he posses ; -ed the exceedingly rare faculty lof making n new that would ; last. A thousand literary men have j failed in this feat where one has !succeeded. OUT OF HIS LINE. The commercial editor of the • Daily Bread having been taken ; suddenly ill, tile ji ke editor as sisted in tile compilation of the animal trade review, says the Chicago Tribune. As a result ot his first half day’s skirmish ing about town he turned in the following: “Broom dealers have made some seeping changes in their business. Those who have been able to get in on the ground lloor, however, have gathered considerable dust during the the year. Straws show which way the wind blows. “Blacksmiths have had hard pounding to keep even, and have.by no means a shoer thing for the coming year. With many of them it has been horse and horse. “Butchers make no bones of declaring tlie fat to be in the fire. One of them gave th« re porter a roast, and tried to chuck him out of doors. He accused him of trying to ascer ! tain tho size of the steak lie hud made out of tho business. “The saloon business has been misuustactory, in a measure, the majority of the customers being chronic growlers. “Rubber deab-rs report a good year, but complain that the business lias besn inflated. Some id them are tired of this. “Elevator manufacturers have had a year of ups and downs, but they know the ropes and hope to pull through. “There has been strong oppo sition in the butter business, and losses have completely cow ed many dealers. “In the produce line it may he stated briefly that overpro duction has taken tho starch out of the potato crop. Carrots uml onions are in the soup. "Dealers in fruit claim they have done buniness at a loss, no matter what the liggers may show. There hasn’t banana profit in apples, and everything in the grape line has gone to seed. “Manufacturer* of cheap ci gar* are in a bad box. They complain of a luck ot confidence They arc in bad odor with the general public. “Furniture di aler* have done fairly well sofa, ami hope to do hotter u* the season advance*. Homo of the new style* of hall furniture for this year’* trade | arc very hatractive.” “There i* one thing evident,” growled the city editor, a* he , ran hi* eye over the manuscript and gruhhed his blue pencil. "There ha* been an overpro duction in the chestnut crop.” SOMKTHING TO KNOW. It may ho worth something i to know that the very best mod- ; icino for restoring the tired out ; nervous system to a healthy vig or is Kieotric Hitters. This medicine is purely vegetable, acts by giving tone to the nerve centres ni the stomach, gently stimulates tile Liver and Kid neys, and aids these organ* in throw ing off impurities hi the blood Klectric Hitters im proves the appetite, aids iliges lion, and is pronounced by those wiio have tried it as the very boat blood puriller and i nerve tunic. Try it. Hold for ode or |l tto per bottle at A M. Winn A Hon’a Drug Store. • » «- Oncofour builders was asked the other day if a house of hi* i erected was h s last. “Yes, my last, but not leased.“ t Uipails Tabulss cm a LutilgssUuO. SHREWD IN FINANCE. All the great financiers of this country, outside of poli tics, do not live in New York, says the Washington Star. One of ie greatest of them, name lees here forever more, lives in more ur less regal splendor on Capitol Hill. That is to s:*.y, lie lives in regal splendor when he is asleep'aud the rest of the time it is pretty much boarding house, except when the mother ol his best girl takes more pity on him than she ever will after he is married, and asks him to take dinner at her house. About a week ago this finan cial Mnchiavelli sat in a poker game with a young man whose reputation for not paying any kind of a bill is wider than the District of Columbia at its widest part, and he won $75 from him. for which lie gave his check. Our Machiavelli from Capitol Hill didn’t want to take the check, because lie lmd heard how previous checks had not been available, as there wasn’t quite enough money in bank to meet them, and there was usu ally a squabble which didn’t declare any dividends worth mentioning. Hut he had to take the check, or nothing, and when he had taken it lie- -at down to think. When morning came he had thought, and as soon as the bank was open he was there with his check for $75. “There’s not enough money to meet it,” said the paying teller. “I supposed not,” smiled and bowed the holder of the check, “and 1 was instructed to make up the difi'erence. so if you will he kind enough to tell me what it is 1 'll tix it.” He was informed that the balance was s(ii! and the Machi avelli at once deposited sl!{ to the credit of his friend and then presented the check, w hich was, of course, honored,'and he came out of the hank just soi’ ahead and no bother to anybody. The best part rtf it was that when the maker of the check met him and lie told him that a friend of his had deposited enough money to his credit to make hi- check good, he never asked who the friend was. In deed. ho never asked any ques tions at all; he slumped and kept his mouth shut. PITH AND POINT. Lives of wheelmen all remind us Wc may make ourselves sub lime, And in scorching leave behind us The policeman every time. Mr*. Slowpay (enthusiastic ally)— Isn’t my new bounet a pnein .’ Mr. Slowpay (regarding the unpaid lull) —Yes, dearest, uu extended owed. Keggy—Dearest, if I were far far away, could you still love llle ? Angeiine—Why, Peggy, what a question! l‘m sure the far ther you were awav the better I should love you. Suporcum Flop-Wbat do you suppose Kdgar Haltus means by speaking of n girl as a ‘perfect rhyme Snpercuin Flip—l don’t know unloss she was averse to him. Johnnie llardii|> —This pros perity yawp in the newspapers is making all kinds of trouble for me. Charlie Slow pay—How so ? J. H.—Well, f‘d like* to know what kind of a song and dan 1 can give my landlord this month. Dealer—l’viLquit selling bi cycle* on the installment plan. Applicant—Why’s that ? Deab.r—Onr machine is of such a superior quality that we are never able to catch the fel lows that owe us. S|mils —I was introduced l**f night to Helm’s wife, and she has a wonderful command of language. Bocratoot*-She ought to have for she won the tirut prize in a word-building competition. * Mamma—Hobby, I heard you were a very naughty boy today. Now, teil me all about it. Hobby (with a sudden access of modesty)—Teacher says it isn’t polite to talk too much I about yourself. Pat—l tdl you the tiuid frinds am always the best, after all, and I can prove it, Denis—How ? Put —Where’ll you find anew | friend that has shtood by you a# long as the old <>ue* have ( Kiyuiua i« toils*. ousglvss rwlMi.