Newspaper Page Text
CONYERS WEEKLY
OLUME IX.
0. WS cre ten-dollar horse, a
for stealing for murder five
ohjd been tried
room ; in the New York City
Mto store documents in, is proo
of more mai riage ceremo
. , C ene in the country.
Y ,n T Other room
passes that one or more
take place there. The
i married are Italians and others,
tedding outfits of the simplest
fees ranging from 10
L dollar. The Alderman who
[tie a nothing
[services, ceremony charges
but the fees go to the
rio looks after and “works up”
. of business.
Lis, Lap the United States cholera, .Minister
regarding the now
Lin il Buenos Ayres and the Ar¬
republic, that there is little dan
its spreading northward, even as
Biaiil. Uruguay lies between the
i regions and the great South
sa Empire, and a very efficient
[jueis maintained by both the
,yan and the Brazilian Govern
at the ports and islands. The
ms introduced, it is thought, by
immigrants,who have been pour
iBuenos Avres in great numbers
s
lere are your tickets, gents?”
the doorkeeper of a St. Louis
sto a line of ,raen who confronted
"Indian file.” “it’s all right,”
j a roan at the tail end of the line.
>otthe tickets. There’s twelve of
me. Count’em as they go in.”
Ion go, gents,” said the doorkeoper,
jc tallied off,'eleven, who irnmedi
pixed with the crowd within. The
keeper turned to look for tho holder
tickets, but he had disappeared,
Lea men saw the performance safe
identificatio-n in the tremendous
Npeople.
■wilier signals adopted for gen
Bueoflhe United States Signal Ser
after march 1, 1887, are de¬
liif Chief Officer Ilazen s circu
l/ollows: “With a view of secur
I uniform system of signals, it is
Emended that flags now in use be
W by those herein described, as
Inner berome worn out or unser
pie. pber, The flags described are four
No. 1, a white square flag,
ping clear or fair weather; No. 2, a
Pare flag, indicating rain or snow;
a triangular black flag, indicat ing
feature—when above No. 1 or 2, it
fees Tanner weather, when below
I er 2, it indicates colder weather;
lit is not displayed stationary tem
p fecold-wave e may be expected; No. 4 is the
black flag, with which
Mower be displayed.”
inquirer puts th : s problem to the
fe Journal:
i v.j „, ,, calf
’ ei er given him. At
.
A, ye ® rss “ e “ad a calf and con
* a,e - a heifer calf every year after
a -ii calf became the mother ot a
^ • at age of two years and had
L fear after. When the first calf
KJriZtT was
nfr 7 6 TYf had b0 calves n ao
I® -
tte * ? ,
! answers received have varied
I- One little miss r! figured 8 out 1 55
* total “T: sum . Enqmrers own
” 6re 17 ‘ll, wnile another
If-. > man
The majority united upon L
F- ^iathe A similar question Firm! was P
Maine farmers Almanac a ,
, Tea w „ a ago, the difference
supposititious . being that
cow had two heifer
!; It was then decided th-it the th
Lr of cows at th eUd , f 7
would be ° tW6n y
77 e rflQ 6 ")°aL A- -
fcoV* *--
f etTin •
~‘ g woman in New York
f parking has
h;ib„ the number of women
k J00 „ , lem>n
« In crowded metro
She took the period
twenty-nine **■ *»d In ninety in
u 7 murmured an”
■^cognition e tt “ uia bled of the w whUe
a rtaing something ThpremTin that mi.ht
or nothin^ Tm
^events ‘Orty-three seemed Unconscious ' of c
taeceuMn ^ - Vtook ia * silence the proffered
J indifference. and with
-
i Of the first T
tWeat ? Fere brunettes- 7f
< , twelve ’ he
k® were of t like iw complexion,
the last A dlTlsl . °a Only
'
t brunerr 1 es The seventeen
t b ; proves observer argues °
f more evirto D re f c ement
Wea t pohteness i
herfaij. s the brunette
.
‘ er ’ She also observed
woa sn af e, as rule
, {;r { he a ra-elv
t *° m street-car f a - ’ r -7 ‘ W e
*n are r, P tof . > ‘
Hemeata m their . ao ’
CONYERS. JANUARY 28, 1887,
FRIENDSHIP
As the day declines to even,
Falling in the arms of night.
One by one the stars of heaven
Shed on earth their constant light.
. So when life’s bright sun is hidden
By the heavy gloom of woe,,
True friends like the stars, unbidden,
One by one their lustre show.
—Barry Lyndon , in the Chicago Current.
LOUIE AND L
,
BY HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFIA
If I had been the least bit pretty -I
shouldn't hare been surprised at it all;
or if I had even been bright and wittv;
but such a little simpleton as II
I never in all my life had the least ex¬
miring pectation of lovers, nr of any sort of ad¬
glances; and I never had any, And
sometimes mother used to say she guessed
it was just as well, for if she had had to
dress two girls out for their pretty looks,
as she did one, it would have beggared
her. Mother only had a little mono} 1 ',
just barely enough to live on, and some
of the principal going every year, but it
wouldn’t have been in human nature,
having a daughter her so pretty as Louie,
not to want to have the best that
would sot off her peach-bloom beautv;
and, for my part, I never grudged Louie
a rcse or a ribbon. I couldn’t have wmrn
them if I had had them, for I was far
too proud to try to do what Nature
hadn’t, or to pretend I thought such
things became me; aud I liked my print
dresses and plain collars better for my¬
self.
But when Louie was dressed in her mus¬
lins till she looked like one of the old
fashioned blush roses, so white without
lovely and so yellow delicately hair flushed within, her
curls all her breaking out in sunny
ant. over might head, ancl she all radi¬
as you 3ay, with her skin, her
smiles, her teeth, her great bine, beam¬
ing oyes—then I used to like to look at
her as much as any of her lovers did; to
look at her as I wouid look at any lovely
picture; and she always turned from her
gayest scene—the dear 1 ttle person—-to
give her sweetest smile to me.
So when Dennis began all at once to
come to our the house, as if he had just seen
Louie for first time in his life, I was
him only loved delighted. and honored For every Dennis one who Heed, knew who
was the soul of ali integrity; and if he
wasn’t a beauty himself, he was a stalwart
son of Saul,aud had thenicest 1 ttle place
in the region—a cottage up a lane, over¬
looking the river, and with a wood be¬
hind its orchard and across the railway
cut^to wind keep olf the east wind—if the
east could ever blow in that sunny
nook with a garden spot made and
blooming in every cranny of the rocks
aroutid it.
He married her, and took her away;
and a happier nest of singing birds than
that in the little cottage among the rocks
aud flowers could nowhere have been
found, unless it were in my own heart,
at the sight of the happiness there.
But then mother fell sick, and it took
all my time to care for her; and I couldn’t
go up to Louie’s very often; for I hud
everything to do at home, and was tired
out hv nightfall, and often up half the
night besides. Louie couldn’t very well
come down often; and if she had come,
she wouldn’t have known what to do.
Poor mother! Once I remember, she
said to me, “I don’t know but it’s more
satisfactory to have one 1 daughter plain,
than anything else.” And it made my
heart bound. And then I reproached
my selfishness in caring to have her sav
that over Louie’s head, as it were; but I
remembered it long afterward, and some¬
times it used to give me a throb of joy
when everything was dreary, and I
j seemed to be alone in the world. And then
For mother died presently.
it turned out that she had been living on
j her dreamed, little property more than we had
and Louie's outfit and her
i own long illness and its bills had used
j ! up paid, money. they had And onlv when enough everything left for was
me
! ! \° 1 Ca hire ? e t i ne *°“ r00m e at a3 .\ S °? fr ? 0f m ref W0 T r whea
j “J trade .; for 1 T ^ 'l v ' ite a kuack , T at .
1 dressl !' ak i^- I did not put on mourn
I ^ 1gl&d ‘ glad i^Tw" that she T"
: of pain, and was was
* g T 6 bef ° re She k ne V that ?H the rr0p ,‘
i evty was gone and , she, with her proud
i S >1 "J’ wopld bave bad J° be dependent.
' L ° me d ;, :1 T aud ° h ' what a be f, ut v
-
! sho r wa \ wltli her black 1 crapes failing
; around her, so waxen, fair and rosy and
i transparent-! Of course she didn t miss
m P tber tk e way I did. How could she
tennis waiting on her every wish?
; anybody
i And she didn’t seem-to want
! but Dennis, either; so I didn t see a
. great deal of her, only when she had
: something new to make and up, then, or some- she
I thln S old t0 alter over;
1 aad tennis were out most of the time,
] meet him coming oof. from hi. work or mo
oi.g ioto the neighbor .hero ..to
I exce t at trying *«> on ‘ /Ted to
P XS 'A™ • .
_
I ing and helping me on the work, because
you might as well have asked a hum
ming bird to do that; but for not taking
more interest in the house and keeping
things trig and tidy. And I used to be
afraid that if I were Dennis, and there
were holes in my socks, and half the but
' and coat and hat
tons off my clothes, my
: never brushed, and I came home and
j found nothing for dinner—not even the
j cloth laid—and my wife off enjoying
‘ herself somewhere else, and the dust
; evervwhere so that I could write my
name, that I shouldn’t feel recompensed
’ for all that bv having my wife stroll
round hanging on my arm, looking as
! pretty as a new-blown rose. And yet
though the house must often have been
thoroughly unoomfortable to Dennis, he
i never gave a sign that it was not
| itself: an 1 I came to the conclusion
he didn t really miss those other things,
and was satisfied with what he had.
I used to go up mto the Eden some¬
times without being sent for, and mend
tip everything, and put the whole house
straight; but I couldn’t go so very often
on account of my work; and, beside, I
had a sensation of intruding where two
people wanted but each olher.
But at last the babies came; and then
I had to go. And Louie was wild with
delight* laid and insisted on having them
on the pillow close to her cheek, and
talked and laughed and cooed and cried
to them with such glittering eyes and
all dazzling color in her face, and said it was
she wanted, even if she were in Heaven
to-morrow!
claimed. “But your husband, I ouieI” I ex¬
“Oh! husbands are all very well,” she
said. “But I haven’t been such au aw
fully good wife. You’d have made
Dennis a great deal better wife, dear, for
the matter of that. But my little sons!
Oh! I know I could be a good
She was in Heaven to-morrow, the
dear little innocent soul, and one of the
babies went with her.
I was glad that the little bady went
too. For I remembered that she had
said then she would have all she wauted;
because it troubled me to think that, for
alibis grief to day, Dennis wouldn’t be
like any other man in the world if he
didn't marry to-morrow; and the other
wife would have the long life with him,
and become dearer and dearer, and Louie
Avould fade into just a beautiful dream;
and when the next life came, it would be
the dear wife of the long-continuing
time that would be his companion, and
Louie would be all alone if it wasn’t for
the baby, and she had said that the baby
was enough. flash Of course all consciousness, this was only
a sort of through my
itaKh,. Nobody
could have thought about anything of
the kind who saw Dennis’s grief. Ho
™ *“ <•«*“« 1 “*> •»
,
W 0 „ia fall and doat o, him, aod then
himself. again I was afraid that he would destroy
I don’t know how We ever con
tnved to get him to let Dome bo placed
in her casket, and I thought he would
jump into tne very grave itself. But at last
that agom mg time—every moment of
which knows how to give a fresh
was ever and the worse time came,
of tne absence anu sdence, and 1 u.a,
vain, bitter longing. AndDennis couldn
look at the baby. Take it away, he
said. Tt killed her. bo I took him into
my own room, and cuddled him close to
xny he heart every night laughing and every and morning
awoke me with lus gur
gling and crowing, playing with the
shadows of the dancing leaves acioss the
bed; and he had Louie syelow hair and
rosy cheeits and per.ect feature?, her
great longing blue eyes, and Dennis s
black eyebrows, and every day he grew
dearer and dearer and more mexpressi
bly dear, and I said to myself that much
as I missed pool Louie, here a ee
made up to me all 1 had ai o y
life; for this child \vas o a 'e P ’
to me of mother and sister and husband
ancl child altogether. . i
he .
giew, the more angry i
Dennistor his indifference,;mi ,
° y>
^ b °y was abou our
o.cl, Isaia:
“I think you had better let old Nancy
come in again and do your chores,the way
she used to do, and I will go away and
take the baby—’’
“Take the babyt”
“Dertaimy ’ I said “Y on can t bear
the sight ot him, and I love him. And
then if ever you marry again
“I shall never marry again, he said,
the gloom settling in his eyes
T don t believe you will! I ex
claimed “I don’t believe there s the
woman living who wil ever take such
an unnatural, wicked father for herhus
think of you!” Audi snatched the baby
up out of the cradle, and ran from the
room, le?t I should break out crying be¬
fore his face.
The next afternoon when Dennis came
in from his work, he went and made
himself all nice, and changed his clothes,
and came down to where I stood in the
side-door with the baby in my arms,
looking at t he sunset. And he stooped
to take the child; and the little darling
turned witb a low frightened And then, cry, an»l all
hid hig fac0 in neck .
at once the tears that I hadn’t seen Den
nis ^ in a ll this time, gushed child, out, who and
he „^ his arm , around the
be f n to scream with terror; and-as I
ha f turned and maintained my own hold,
be took j dln forcibly" away from me.
«, Let p, he 8aid) in bis i ow , half
smothered tone. “He's my child 1”
“I suppose he is!” I cried. “By some
wicked form 0 f law, the cruel law
m0Q made for men . But you don’t de
gerve him .»
■- ™ ■» -to i
«““<!* 8°,
m«I 2?
and flung tUJ my apron over my head, and
put^ in my ears and wished
the baby and I were dead along
' oale ’
■
Perhaps it , hour afterward r ,
was an
when I looked up and there was Dennis
coming through the orchard with the
baby, and the boy was crowing and
jumping and catching t the bending
boughs, and catching at his father s
great mustache, and rubbing his chirrup- little
wet lips all over Dennis s face,
ing and joyous; and I couldn t help it,
I ran to meet tnem.
“iousee, said Dennis, as lie let . me
have him back, “blood is thicker than
water, after all.
^bat long _ as 1
,^ k a jotnney e
that baby had been on as_I took him and
co aid hardly have done kissing him
“Corner said Dennis Haughing,
“leave sorfbth ng of him for me
It was the first time he had
since • rt.. that child was born. Andthcdar
ling had gone a long journey-a journey
into tne inhmte depths of a father’s
lf t0 gC \ a T y
vlihv and bnnda Le , had *i the '
,-rTti ?n K?^ & arms from mornuag y® till niulit.
An A . evenings, clothes when ould I sat seeing and
’ w come
°f Where !\ e c ? uld «" lu)W
tb j' andh ® brought home
f toTvoH f 1 tt e ’ lm P os ^ lb e ’ t( ?y s > and
he talked and j sang to him, and walk d
with him; and the baby began to look
out for his coming as much as I did. And
all that, of course, helped me a good deal
in my work about the hou-e, for I kept
everything as fine and orderly ns a honey
comb; only, with the baby to tend and
see 1°). ^ sometimes had to sit up nights
1° do it.
“I shall call h'm Louie, for his
mother,’ said Dennis, one night.
you think you can bear it?” I
asked,
“To hear him called Louie? Yes. He
is Louie over again,” said Dennis.
And I couldn’t tell vou how uleasant
life grew to be as we watched the child
grow, unfolding like a rose. There was
ab olutely a sort of rivalry between us
presently as to who should discover his
first tooth. When he took his first step,
it was between Dennis's arms and mine,
as we both sat on the boor. And when
he spoke his first word, how we listened
to learn if it were Dennis’s name or mine.
The day wasn't long enough in. for think us to
watch his dear loveliness And I
Dennis was envious of me for having
him nights; but he couldn't and I thought help that. then
So time went on;
it would not be easy to say how we could
be happier; L.ooed for even the memory of Louie
into lb.,™
hardly a grief to us in our love of her
boy, though >i«L sometimes I used to wonder
« /•"»*„«»*
But when , bo a esr chM w „ , bout
three years old there came a snake into
Eden . A snake? A whole nest of them!
It seemed as if every girl in what the whole
vil i nge had just found out a rare
and charming person 1 was, and how
i pleasant it was late afternoons up where
j Uved, and how nice it was to run up
-evenings to see me. And sometimes
: Dennis would have to go home with
them then; and sometimes he wouldn’t
: but j ust went out the other way, and
, neVe r came home till they’d gone; and
some li OTr one thing was almost as un
peasant as the other, and I couldn’t,
why j t worried me—I only knew it did.
And I used to [take the boy and go
by myse if and cry. For, of course,
sooner or later, Dennis would marry
one of those terrible girls; he
help himself; they wouldn’t let him
himself; it would come about
aw hile as naturally as water runs
hiU .
And then there would be a
f or my boV) and Heaven alone knew
would become of him. And what
become of me?
And by this I gave out completely.
should have to go away. I should
Penn j s no m ore. No more of that
voice and presence, and cheery way
And all at once it came over
j u a flash of horror and shame what
i ^ be matter with me; and then I felt that,
ba pp en what would, I really must
away.
Hut I couldn’t go fe and leave the
^ there j was A nd I grew, pale ‘n and
conld ea( . nothing aud wag 8t er
stiller eyery ^ dav. I could as soon
* haV(J gmiled
talked w ag _
But one day I had the little fellow
[ ^ in his morn ing / nap, ^ which he had
, I outgrowa ^ alt ugll “ it was f gc
, . ° be and fitful nd ’ thinl
j I)eQnis ther(J t se 0 knowin
out by myself, down the fie d by
railroad cut; for there was an apple
there where I gathered the the wind falls,
and Hiked, too, to sit on* bank
see the train dash by in the cut. I
my apron full of apples, and, as I came
back, I stood loitering a moment or
on the steep bank, hearing a train
ing, and liking all the rush and roar
rattle that seemed to snat li me out of
myself, as if it told of a way to some
where, some distant region where
trouble might be forgotten; and all
once another sound from that of the
proaching train caught my ear, a glad
gay looked shouting and and crying. left, little I turned confused,
to right the child a And,
for it was s voice.
turning back suddenly, I saw him;
there, at the foot of the bank,
bLLL"ihaUieLL<LrcLth (
centre of the track he stood, waving
little hands and shouting to the
train. There was not a half minute,
seemed, but in less grasping time I was
there, and was just the
when my foot slipped, and I fell
him in m v arms, and the thunder was
my ears and the hot breath in my face,
”
and I knew that was the end.
No; it was only the beginning of
end. When I knew anything more,
was he lying had on the bank in Dennis’s arms, boy,
for come bounding after the
and had snatched us both out of
as the eno-ine like a wild dragon,
and roared and thundered by, and he
hoiding me as if he would never let
go.
And he never haslet me go. “Oh!”
cried, “I found out in that second
life would be to me without you, dear;
something ! conkln't bear a day.” And
only clung to him. too ashamed to
him see mv face, too tired and weak
1 lit ft it it, And so s ® 11 it is 1 I that am am the 7
wife, and the boy , s mother. Ana j,, I „
surprised as L— Inlet, end ent-,
1 MATTERS.
__
Hjnts oll starching Clothes;
Art ; cles requiring to be very stiff
i starch When dry. Make the boiled starch
starc h w ith three'tablespoonfuls half tablespoon- of
; to a quar t 0 f water and a
f u i 0 f borax. When dry take in clothes,
! and if possib!ei j r on the flannels at once:
iron them on the wrong side with a cool
jmn until ui te dry. Sprinkle the
clothes carefully and told them. Starch
| collarg> cul j S) etc ^ aga j n w ith raw starch.
Be careful aboutfoldingshirts and night- is
gowns after starching, as nothing starch
more disagreeable than patches of
on parts .where it is not intended to be.
Fold shirt or gown lengthwise so that
the two starched fronts come logethef,
lay the waistbands between them, then
roll up very tight, sprinkling the rest of
the garments with water. Hack all the
clothes closely in the basket, cover over
with a damp cloth and then a dry one
until ready to iron.
How to Cook Eggs.
Y quickest vv ay o P rL __________ l • . ff,
bieakfastis o 01 . mm s , <
he done in three m nues, o y g
them to stau I s a nnu
J ustat the boiling point ; the result , will ...
the same. ext m
poached eggs. reak yo f ,
«?■? f
lut0 £ s la ^° ^
ancl s ‘ *
! around tb ? yolk S lift on __ a „i platter fl4for and
season with sa . r < - *_ *,
taken mil ing ‘ •
braak ,
Hard ’ , ‘, boiled el T e go” ‘ .iJi Lw „
‘
, ,, ,
? 1( ;® 1 e ls 1 “ r 1 ea J ’
boiled the . night . . before, . as . eggs boiled boiled
“rjowholoomoTbu“K’lM ’ aud mealy i ike
are dry »{,„■ a
,f,™ ”L”.w'mi"
.urpn.ed lo aeo tow oa..l, the atoll,
C relish for
Pickled eff(rs ara a nice
br o akla8t) either with or without meat,
Boil and remo ve the shells, as in the rule
g iven above for hard boiled eggs. Let
hem j fi several hours in a strong salt
| brin0 ti the salt has penetrated the egg,
\ : thea remove and drop into either plain In
or spiccd ‘ viue gar according ready to taste. for
a fe w days they will be use.
Fried etrgs are quickly cooked and, with
ham or bacon , are nice mostunhealthful for a change, but
j deem tbem by f art he
mL . tbod G f cooking eggs, as they are apt
t0 lie heavi y on the stomach. Most peo
j fr „ theni only on one side, hut 1 pre
f 01 -to turn mine and slightly brown the
^ er 6ide . This is a matter of taste,
h ever and requires some skill in the
j ft „ d i inu . to turn and not break them.
tYhenV-r iy°prepared, S arc scarce an omelette may
be qu i ek lleatup two or
thre e et ,„ s according to the size of your
family adding a pinch of salt and a ta
blespoon of sweet milk to each egg, and
CO ok in butter or good noi sweet pork drip
pings, ^iue if butter is convenient. I turn
for the space of one minute before
serving, although I know it is not the
usual custom to do so. I am independ- and
ent enough, however, in cooking break
many other things to sometimes
away from established customs. Finely
minced ham or bacon, or even good sweet with
salt pork, chopped fine, and mixed
the beaten egg makes a good omelette,
! besides being a very good way of work- of
ing up scraps of meat. Other kinds
meat will do, but are not quite so good.
Fine bread or cracker crumbs, in the ab
sence of meat, make a good substitute,
and even a cold potato or two chopped mixed
fine with a little raw onion and
with the egg is not a bad dish for one
who is not too dainty. -Mm J. J. O., t»
Free Press.
Household Hints.
To Clean Knives.—C ut a small po
j tato in two, dip one-half in brick-dnst
and ru b the knives, and rust and stain
w ;il disappear iike method—Lime, magic fromtheirsur
f a ces. Another one part;
sand, three parts; soft soap, two parts,
kay a little on the boards with a scrub
; j blng brush and rub thoroughly. Rinse
w Hh clean water and rub dry.
To Clean Lamp Chimneys.—T o make
i am p chimneys look beautifully clean,
wasb them in warm soapsuds, turn scald
in a water over them, wipe dry with a
j g0 ^ doth, and rub with a piece of news
aper _ This w m g ; ve a n i ccr polish
tb in C an be obtained in any other way.
Windows treated in the same way will
found to look much nicer than if sim
ply washed and Rinsed.
>
sliiiil
ll0t flatkontid th(! n ^ ,isturo 13 eva P° ; ' a
j t ad - Ifthe s V be gone repeat t
the process. Aftcftwo or three applt
j cations the dent or bruise will be raised
! level ^ with and the surface. few minutes Keep it the continu- bruise
! in a
j will disappear.
! Odds and E vds op Wool.—O dds and
ends of wool may be utilized with pretty
elfect for afghans. The bits of wool are
knotted together according to fancy, length. the
ends being left about an inch in
They are crocheted together with a
j coarse needle in plain stitch, llie kno.s
must be kept on one side, so the longer
pieces of wool should be used for the re
turn row for the under side. If, how
ever, all the bits are small it is a simple
matter to draw the knots through to the
u PP er « d «-,
a “^Ued’ect have
a cn
____
The water of the so-called medical
j a ^ 0 n0ar g. )0 kaue is so charged with
certain ■ salts .. tnat t it - r is , use likp . lye . ana d is
used in making soup. When the wind
, b } owg tile waves soon make soapsuds of
°
NUMBER 48.
The Great Tarts Tower.
The accompanying handsome picture
I % „ ive3 a good idea of how the great tower
be ere. ted at the entrance to the
ing under it. It » proposed|to build it
y.-4 feet high. It doesn’t seem a great than
distance, L84 feet—a little more
three short block—but toward it is a good clouds. way
when it is measured the
j t - 80 mebody could produce another Bed
i oc ’s Island, pedestal, statue, and all,
an d could balance it upright on Liberty s
torch, and then if a third Bedloe’s pedes- the
j tal and staiue, wire balanced on
j torch of the second Liberty, the torch m
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the upstretebed hand of the third Lib¬
erty would still be bel .w the dome over
which the tricolor is floating in the pic¬
ture. If Miss l iberty could set the
Washington Monument on one of the
Brooklyn bridge towers, put her and pedes¬ then
tal on top of the monument,
herself climb on top, she would just get.
her torch up where the flag is. By such
imaginary gymnastics a conception of
the audacity of the French engi
neers is obtained. The Executive Com
mittee of the Exposition recently ($100,OOO) appro
printed 1,500,0. 0 francs
to build it. It will be of pyramidal which form will
and will lest on four pillars, nrch will have
be 322 feet apart, and the
a height of 101 feet. The first story,
about” 102 feet from the ground, will
have a gallery foity-eight feet wide,
where restaurants, cafes, and meeting
rooms can ko arranged On the second
floor there is another gallery thirty feet
wide. This gallery will be about 450
feet from the ground. The monunnent
will run up from this floor to wh it might
look like a small point, but there will
be room enough on the balcony and in
the cupola for hundreds of people miles, to
stand and look away for ninety will
an d all over Paris. Four elevators
be run to the second story and two to
the top. The complete ascent will be
made in six or seven minntes and the
descent at the rate of a yard a second,
The tower will weigh about 14,000,009
French pounds, or nearly 40,003,000
English pounds, or 20,000 tons.-A™
j York Bun.
j The InquisitiTe Canine.
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I. Investigation. U. Consternation.
_r,y*
I theLa
Johnny at table the other even
when sisttr Sue’s young man was an
honored guest. fond
“Think not, Johnny?” said the
paternal relative, beaming on tne young
ster.
“I guess they won’t,” said Johnny,
glancingat the blushing couple v*ith an
uir of superior wisdom. ‘‘Am how, one
chair’s all they need in the parlor now.
tijp Kapidiry of Prosrress Toward Health*
Even when agooi remedy for disease is se
lected, depends in some measure upon the
manner in which it is taken. Irie^u ar, inter
rup ted doses can afford no fair test of the effi
cac y of any medicine, however salutary,
Taken in proper doses at prescribed intervals.
i SdlK'cu^.
! mi eriodic disease, Hostettcro’s Stomach Bit
' kidneys ‘ffiK anti
| iiver complaint, inactivity ot the
; b:aider.const patio and other orRamc. medical mala
, it is a tr iedrenudy, to which tne
brotherhood have lent iheirprof> siical sanc
tion, and whicl, ai a.’onjc, a t:i'auve and
, *■*»