Newspaper Page Text
VOL. XIII.
Church pastorates are still sold to"'
highest bidders’ in -some parts of
the
England_ _ ___
According - to the insurance tables
expo etation of life at ten years'of age
'isgrea test in England, -19. '2.
It ia estimated that the chinch bug,
Hessian fly. army worm and cotton
worm have cost the United-'States
MOre than the Civil War.
,
* f
TM-re is said to he no successful
tomeJy for dandruff, though experi
rut-rib liave been made for twenty
years to find one. The best palliative
. and
'there is is simply good plain soap
warm water.
An illustration of the inconveniences
„f too much learning is furnished by'
page in an encyfilopsedia where ap
a
pears : “Sweet flag, see Acorns; Sweet
gum, see Liquidamber ; Sweet, pea, sec
Lathyrus; Sweet potato, see Batatas.
The Hew York Press feels it, is rather
discouraging to be told by Mrs. Emma
Ewing, who is an authority, that while
improvements have been made in till
other ‘directions, practical cooking
stands where it did one hundred years
a 8'°
__________
A Boonville (Mo.) man has estab¬
lished a chinch hug station similar to
that of Professor Snow, of Lawrence,
Kan. “In another year,” predicts the
Chicago Herald, “Missouri’s name wijl
he put in the bright lexicon of bug
less States.”
Ppofessor Virchow, the great Ger
limn scicntist, reaffirms his belief that
no trace of “the missing link”
man and the lower animals lias been
discovered, either in the human skulls
which arc believed to be most ancient,
or iu the physical structure of modern
savages. _
Aluminum is-to hr- used wherever
practicable , in . the , accoutrements, , . <irms
and equipments of the German army,
By its use the weight carried by in
fantry soldiers will be a trifle over
fifty-seven . pounds, where t it ...
now is
slightly more than sixty-eight and one
half pounds.
The people of Marlehead, Mass.,
have hung up in their town hull Na¬
tional colors, which they have bought
tov the new wav cruiser, which has
been named after their famous town.
But Marblehead will not end her gift
to the warship with this one. Now it
is proposed to place in the cruiser
something more substantial, perhaps
a silver vase; and it is suggested that
a fund be started to he called the
“citizen’s gift, ” to pay for the new
gift.
______
The driving of sheep through the
Interior Department building is the
latest suggestion, avers the Washing
»*».-......
a* flea3thst h,velocated.taet,. It
is a curious sort of remedy, but if
soems to be theoretically sound. If it
,, an an i.p be demonstrated demonstrated that that these these insect,® insect,
have such a fondness fm mutton that
they will desert the habitations of hn
man beings to gratify it, no considers
tions of compassion for the sheep wil
, have an y weight.
' ^-- __
The worst feature of a flood is the
fact that the river is apt to leave a de¬
posit of sand, varying in thickness
from one inch to ten feet, over a large
extent of land that was formerly fer¬
tile. In the flood of 1853 a great
many farmers in the American bottom
in Missouri on going back to theic
premises after the subsidence of the
waters found their property covered
with river sand iu beds so thick that
two or three years elapsed before good
crops could be raised.
Some of tho officials of the United
States Government Weather Bureau
are advocating the establishment of
weather stations on the Bahama Isl¬
ands, with a cable connection with
Havana. Such stations would enable
the Weather Bureau to learn something
about storms forming north of Cuba ;
and whether or not these storms are
likely to strike the coast of the United
States. While the Weather Bureau
gave waruing of the recent West In¬
dian hurricanes, nevertheless the Bu¬
reau was not able to tell, as its officers
would like to have had it done, the
probable force of each one of the
storms.
HALES WEEKLY.
Our Faitli: Pure Jeffersouiau Democracy.
€ OX VERS, GA., WEDNESDAY NOVEMBER 8, 1893.
* RETROSPECT.
1 ♦ *
But the summerbas gone, for all of that,
And with sad reluctant heart .
We s»aud at rich autumn's open door
And watch its form depart
The skies were not just so blue, p.erhaps, ;
,
As we hoped they would surely be.
And the waters were rough that washed our
boat.
Instead of the old calm sea ; ■
But the summer ^Que. lor All:of that,
And tbo golden-rod is.here ; \ ■
We can see the gleam of Its 'golden sheen
In the hand hi the aging year.
The rest was not quite so*real, perhaps. - .
As hoped It might be. '
we prove to
For instead of leisure came work sometimes.
And the days d&&*l wearily:
But the summer hps gone, for all of that,
The holiday time fe
And busy hands in the har vest-field
Have garnered their -olden '
” store "
The summer was not such a dream, perhaps,
Of bliss as WC thought’twould be.
And tbe beautiful things we planned to do
Went for '
amiss, you-and me; .
Yet still it has gone, for all of that,
And we lift our wistful eyes ;
To the-laud Where beyond the Winter snows
Another summer litis.
—Kathleen K. Wheeler, iiv Lippinijptt.
------
AW muiUA AimSTU J T?ftMAW/F rtU-YJ-TllXA/OJ.
.
; FIRST chine here, ”i
-E said Denis O'-Banr;
“in one of those
fits of enthifsiasm
J). \<L at which you all
I laugh. I had de
termined to do a
great work, and I
;;, found everything 1
here I wanted-
km fry fli ^ light, climate views, and
models. Oitr-friend
Trenoweth introduced nje to the place,
gay'e me inestimable hints, and (no
use ..shaking your "hide head, Jasper; you
shall not always your ligbt'under
bushel) in every way made me -at home
and comfortable. We were much to¬
gether, for be was*'or- said he was, in¬
terested in my work, aud approved of
my subject Sometimes I painted out
M doors, favored by the sott, gray
jjght and equable climate for which
this place is famous. Sometimes I
would work in the studio, and often,
taking pity on my loneliness Treno
weth would drop in here in the even
ingf , aml W e wo,rid talk-as he alone
calJ ma be any one talk,.. . Altogether.it
was very pleasant, and I am not sure
that I felt pleased when one evening
he strolled down here to show me a
letter he had reoeived from one of our
fraternity asking to hire a studio for
three months in order to complete a
.
“The handwriting was bold and
clear; the signature at the end of the
simple, concise words onlv, ‘M. Dela
porte.’ We discoursed and speculated
about M. Delaporte. We wondered
if he was old or young, agreeable or
the reverse; if he would be a bore, or
a nuisance—in fact, we talked a great
deal about him during the week that
intervened between his letter and bin
arrival. Trenoweth saw to the
arrangements of the studio. It was
A V». 2 he had agreed to let, and gave
directions as to trams, etc., and’then
lait ® e to welcome the newcomer, who
hom ,.. tired, cold and tan, 1
lights m No. and thought to my
«eH, ,‘ M >' ff,llo ' v arriyed,
then.’ Thinking it would be only
^ fo gQ and giv(J him welcome, f
walked np to the door and knocked.
A voice called out, ‘Come m!’and,
turning the handle, I found myself in
the presence of-* woman! For a
moment I was too surprised to speak.
She was mounted on a short step
ladder ’. “tanging some velvet
draperies, and at my entrance she
turned, aud, with the rich-lined stuffs
forming a background for the pose of
the most, beautiful figure woman could
boast of, faced me with as much ease
and composure us—well, as I lacked.
“ ‘Mr. Trenoweth?’ she asked in¬
quiringly. of those low,
“Her voice was one
rich contralto voices, so rare and so
beautiful. -------
‘“I’m not Mr. Trenoweth,’ I said;
‘I’m only an artist living in the
studio I—I came to see if Mr.
porte had arrived ; I beg your pardon
for intruding. ’ she said, frank
•“Do not apologize, and
Jv. ‘This studio is let to me you
“a. i’sr-Y
privilege ’ she said. ‘But I am an
artist ’ and art takes no count of sex.
! hop e W c s ha u i, e friends as well as
ueiehbo -
!?I I echoed eenoeo that inai wish wisnueariuy heartily enough, euougii.
Who would not “e ami u.th
so charming a comp •
then I set °P nil
her studio and fix her easel The Thepic
the'eanva^but'she wonId° fatigue not hunger. & let, me
see it then. I forgot ®
everything. I thought I , hail , nevei ,.
e manne“ an, h eas.f
of nie and grace and
drgiiityipf perfect breeding, yet withal'
Musette Delnporte I feel I could go on
- ■ memorable . , , „. jeyening. : 'j
When the "wap. stajdio a arranged..te her j
was
satisfaction, she made ine sonic, tea
with a little spirit-lamp' arrghgetpent j
had, and then we Kicked up "the :
room, and I took her through the lit- I
tlfevillage to try and find lodgings. Of j i
course, Jasper and I, having decided
that M. Delaporte\vas a man, had ex
pectcd him to rough it like the rest of
us. .1 conlil not let her stay. in Tre
nap-lyn itself, but took her- up the hill
«4.e toh farm house, where ! felt cer
h tarn K” they 8 m Would ^iptuyes -ftceommoyjate. with the pW, her.
aud I agreed with-her that -it was,- a
P aradls f’ f s .> ludeed ’ >* aee ^ to mo
tdie tkflt moon Att shining £? st “« over ht ‘ the',.bay,, {^uicmber , the
fleet of boats standing out to sea. the
, lights from the tpwus and villages scat
; tered along the coast i or amid the
i sloping Mils. - '1- did not wonder she
i was charmed; we all have felt .that
; charm here, and it doesn’t lessen with
time ; we all have acknowledged that
( also. But'V must, hurry on. MTheiT
Trenoweth heard of the new artist’s'
sex- he wasrather put out. I could not
see why myself, and I agreed: that the
mistake w,as iny own. M might stand
forMaryvuyr or Malcolm
j U8t - aB well as for Maurice or
or Mortimer, However, when lie came
down and saw M. Delapprte here, I
heard, no more about the dissdyajitages
of,sex.. She was .essentially a woman
companionship, cultured, brilliant,
artist to her fingertips, yet with all
her beautyiand fascination holding a
certain proud, reserve between herself
and ourselves, marking a line wedared
not overstep. At the end of a month
we knew little more about-'hen than we
did-on the first evening. I opined
that she was a widow, but no hint,
howe'er skilful, no trap, however
baited, could force ,lier into oontt
dence or self-betrayal. Wp called
her Musette, Mrs. Delaporte. she told Hqr-. name Her
was me.
mother had been-a Prchchwo.man , of
her - father she never* spoke.' bhe
worked very hard, often-putting me
to shame, but still’ she would not let
me see the picture, always bkilfully
turning the easel so that the canvas
was hidden whenever .Tapper or myself
entered the studio. We were never
permitted to do so in working hours,
but when the daylight laded and the
well known little tea table was set out,
wc often dropped in for a cup of ten
and a chat. It was all so pleasant, so
homelike. The studio with its drap
erics and its howls of flowers, its
plants and books and feminine trifles.
I wonder how it is that some women
seem to-lend individuality to their sur
roundings, Tho studio has never
looked the same since she left,”
Ho paused and laid down the sketch,
The usual gayety and brightness of
his face was subdued and shadowed.
“I-well, it’s no good to dwell on it
all now, ” he said abruptly. “Of course
I fell madly in love with her. Who
could help it? I bet any of you fel
lows here would have done the same.
I neglected work. I could only moon
and dream and follow her about, when
she let me, which I am bound to say
was not very often I’m sure I used
to bore Trenoweth considerably at
that time, though he was patient. And
she was just the same always; ca m
y .u s ~; P p™“
**t wtat miscl.icf tar presence
had wrought. As the third molltl1
drew near to Hs end I grew desperate
I thought she avoided me; she never
let me into the studio now, and I must
confess I had great curiosity to see the ;
picture. But she laughingly evaded
nil my hints, and Mould otily receive
me Trenoweth at the was tormhon«e. equally unsuccessful. I JMrnvc
At last I could stand it no
spoke out »“ d
^ course, and 1 he laughed
somewhat bitterly, it was no use. If ,
she had been my mother oi my sister
she could not have been moreserenelv
gracious, more pitiful or more mir
prised. 1 I had made at l -
sell, as we men call it, ana «
no purpose. ix was mau ^
I knew it was hopeless. I had al¬
most known it before my desperate
confession. ,. , 8<>; t
her , again ,, I felt ifli 1 hated , i s the place, i it
was so tnll of memones. So, sui -
denly without a word to Trenoweth or
herself, I packed up my traps and
started off on a sketching tour through
Cornwall. A ben I came back the
studio was closed, and Trenoweth had
z is.:,re
were never to be let to women artists.
That is all my part of the story. This
—this sketch is only the figure I re
member. She was standing once just
like that, looking at the wall of the
as if £ to T her i it cTr was peopled
rl an ‘f-1
fancying myself at the Academy,’
she she said said to tome, me as as I i asked her at what;
o/the and :
picture line. ’ I do not know 1
mv
if‘she ever attained her ambition.” he ;
ad( addejfi ied “IhaVe never seen or heard
He glanced at Jasper Trenoweth,
who silently held out liik hand for the
grave f aee Q f the man who sat there"
them, aW, his thoughts apparently have far
so far. that 'ho seemed, to
his promise to finish the
s t6rv'which Denis O’Hara had begun,
At last he roused himself. “There is
apt much more to add.” he said slowly,
«« A11 that Dennis has said of Musette
Delaporte is true, and more than true.
she was one of those women who are
bound to leave their mark on a man’-a
life and memory. After Denis left'so
abruptly 1 saw very little of hei<
seemed'restless, troubled and iliy
turbed. Her mind was absorbed iii
the completion of her picture. Thai
uhrest and dissatisfaction which isewer
the-penalty of enthusiasm had now
token the place of previous hopetul
pess . ‘If R should fail, ’ she Said to
me . ‘Oh, you don't know what that
mean. You don’t know ivluit I
have staked on it.’
“Still she never’VTffered to show it
to mo, and I would not presume to ask.
I kept away for undisturbed.' several days, thinking
she jyas best All .artists
j }W , through that, phase of ex
j,erience which she was undergoing,
If is scarcely possible to avoid-it,- if,
indit'd, one lias any fippreei^itiouppr
or love of art in one’s nature.
“At last one day T walked"down' to
the studio. 1 knocked at the door,
There was no answer. I turned the
handle and entered. In the full light of
the sunset as it streamed through the
window, stood the easel, covered no
longer, and, facing me, as I paused on
the threshold, was the picture. I stood
there too amazed to speak or move,
it was magnificent,. If I had not known
that only a woman’s hand had. con
verted that canvas into a living,
breathing history I could not have be
lieved it. There was nothing crude,
or weak or feminine abput.it. The
power and force of ’genius Spoke out
like a living voice, and seemed to de
mand the homage it so grandly chair
i en ged. Suddenly I became aware of
a sound hi the stillness—-the' low, sti
fled sobbing of a woman. I’saw her
then, thrown face downward, on the
couch at the furthest end of the room,
her face buried in the-cushions, her
whole frame trembling and-cdnviilsed.
with a passion of gritjf. ‘Oh, Man
ricp T’she sobbed, and then again only
t i iat name — 'Maurice ! Maurice.' Man
rice!' ‘ ■
“I closed the door softly and went
awa 'There seemed to be something
8acre( i ibis grief. I—I could not
j n trmle on it. She was so near to
p ame fu, e b eld so great a-gift, and
vc t she lay weeping her heart out yon
Ji erj like the weakest and most foolish•
of j ler gex> f or — we j], what could I
tb ink, but that it was for some mau’8
sake. ’ !
He paused, his voice seemed a little
loss steady, a little less cold. .
“On the morrow,” ho said abruptly,
8 le " tt8 8 onH > ® av a
well > and-and thanks for me. 1 , leU .
a momentary aisappointment. I should
hke to have said fare^eU to her, an
j was s rang , oo, o -
<1™* ei . an ol my ‘‘p™- life grew le more ° than lonely ,
ttfi ie a T s ' ven OI1 ’ Bm
mfe up my mind . to go to London. T ,
™ ^f^here on'the the'’Academy
J™ ^ day
F - lir e artists know
* for them T
to feol th ,
artistic" and critical mingled and
the crowd, ’
1 h gathered in the
^“^inoticed ; I phased hlwthi into the*
crowds
« nd d pUB!l ed and thronged
. j t 0 there and 1 hoard
, g of £ prtt j se aI1( j wonder from
i trifed to get
Svelous attractive - tk
and Ad last a
break ia the throng favored me. I
i ooked over the heads of some dozen
* f t ()f the picture, and I
t j j(j picture f Had gazed at in
won( i el . Bn< | ddiglit in the studio
^ Musett( . pelaportd ! Deservedly
honored, it lmhg there on the line,,
and a ] ready it 8 praises were sounding,
and the severest critics as well as the
most eager enthusiasts were giving it
fame.
*<r 1 turned hirstai away^at .»• .t lost ^t. xf- v-*),,- steps
1 ’ ‘
,. „,iL™ni»lr ,
•
ose ^ u e 8 u,, m lin'd I’amii
ar. Her face was veiled VeU°d and some- some
what averted, but ± knew w 11 eno igh
that pose of the beautiful head, that
alone. Leaning on her arm was a
man, his face pale and worn as if by
long suffering, his frame bent and
crippled. As his eyes caught the pic
tare I saw the sudden light and won
der that leaped into his face. I saw,
too, the glory of love and tenderness
in hers. J drew nearer ; the man was
speaking ‘How could you do it?’ he
. < ho w could you ?* ‘Oh, Murice,
forgive me, ’ said that low, remembered j
voice, and ‘Dearest; soul and are name? we not I only one fin* in }
heart
t shed what you hail so well begun,
You were so ill and helpless, and when
you went into tbe hospital, oil, the
illsll novel- dared to hope it would be
-M^pted. The plan, the After thought, all, the -di.11 detail do all
were yours ; only my poor weak hand
worked when yours was helpless.
“ l was so close 1 heard every word,
so, close that I saw him bend and kiss
with reverence the hand that she lmd
called poSr 'aiid weak, so close that 1
hwardstiii 1 dow-breathed • murmur from
his lips, ‘Oocl bless uml reward you,
my hoble wife ! ’
<• * *• * ' 1* ,
“And she was married all the time !’’
said Denis plaintively. “3he might
kayo told us!
.Tasper TrctioWeth was silent.-die
Strand.
Mysterious Mountain Light. |
A
The Old Bag is a long jagged spur of
tbe Blue Ridge that skirts the counties
of Madison and Green; Virginia, writeB
a correspondent of thcSt. Louis Olobe
Democrat, and loses its name after
reaching further south. It is one of
the features o'f the splendid country
through which it. passes—gland,
gloomy and peculiar, its rugged sides
clear cut against the sky and looking
forbidding in its towering majesty.
Here was the scene of the “Gold Bug"
of Poe, cue of the weirdest and-most
thrilling stories, in which the great
writer indulges in the mysteries of the
stars and ; divination.
'The eastern side of the Old Rag over
looks a long stretch of country and is
seen a great way off. About three
fourths the way up tlio side of this
mountain is a phenomenon that has for
many years attracted the attention of
the people for miles around, caused
much speculation, and yet to this day
j remains the mystery of tho “Old Rag. ”
This ip a bright beautiful light which
: fifot burns and glows on the side at' the Bag.
every night, but only a hen the
a tmosphere is favorable then 1he “eye
ofthctRag” may be seen, dazzling and
scintillating, as if it were some irn
mense diamond set in the rocks of the
everlasting hills. Sp far, investigation
has not solved tho mystery, thpugh at
irregular periods some enthusiast un¬
dertakes to investigate, but gives up
f, b g problem in a short time. Persons
lxavo camped, on the mountain for days,
seeing the light then as from below;
but so precipitous are the sides, and and so
impassable from the huge bowlders
rocks that lie all around, that nothing
definite has been learned. Others,
more scientific aud enterprising, have
spent days in locating tho great, dia
mond, by establishing aline of stations
and signals, but the light still shines
mystery of the ridge. It can be
no artificial light, for no one lives with
iu several miles, and to make such a
light night after night, for so many
T«ws would be simply impossible,
Th ? n, too it is too sparkling scintil
latirig and opalescent for art to make,
and whatever it ih, one thing is sure,
and that is that it is the work of na¬
ture. The light on a favorable night
is seen thirty miles away, and at that
distance still preserves the peculiar
shooting, darting features which are
seen to much better advantage from
the immediate vicinity.
A Shark’s Effort to Swallow a Turtle.
On Wednesday morning about ten
o’clock as the pilot boat Addle was
cruising off the east end of Dog Mand
i„ charge of Captain Cisco Kent, and
tnrtta HoRting laaily on tbe water,
They sailed up close and just as back the
pilot was about to jump on its
thov saw an enormous shark swim up
swiftly hut quietly behind 'the turtle
and swallow him tail first as far as the
forward flippers. The shark with the
struggling turtle in his mouth, made
ineffectual attempts to dive, but could
not stay long Jo under water. Moanwhile
the pilot, had pimped into a dingy,
was paddling towards the combatants,
when the shark, finding that be could
not swallow his prey, reluctantly dis
gorged aud hovered a short distance
away, while F'rank seized the turtle
with a boathook, fastenea a ropo round
his flipper and to wed him to the Addie,
where he was hoisted on board and
brought into Oarrabelle. He would
weigh about 400 pounds, and was nearly
feet long and thirty inches wide,
and bore terrible evidences of the strug
^ His under shell was crushed in,
his tail and three of his flippers were
bitten off and he was gashed up gener*
*Hy. ^ The shark was over twenty feet
_ Apa]achicola (F)h . , Timca .
------—
Distinguished Bachelors.
never married. Among them are. Des
cartes, Spinoza, Newton, Swedenborg,
Kant, Voltaire, Horace Walpole, Ed
ward Gibbon, Francis Drake, Beet
hoven Richelieu, Michael Angelo.
Isaac Watts, Montgomery, Cooper,
Grey, David Hume, John Randolph,
Washington Irving, James Buchanan,
Samuel J. Tiiden, Thaddeus ,Stevens,
Alexander Stephens, John G. Whittier,
Walt Whitman and Phillips Brooks
The only comment to be made is that
nobody knows how much greater they
might have been had they married.
Buffalo Conner.
NO. 41.
AT NOON.
Among (ho immemorial trees
The sunlight breaks the green gloom
through.
And falls slantwise upon us two,
In daUitthee with life's golden keys—
Life's golden keys of youth and love.
^ e stand before a wall of brush—
Tho green grass waving long and lush—
A distant call of dove to dov<ff*
And as our voices break the husll
Of midday silences, a thrush
Sends out a glad, sweet thrill above.
Vivian Castane, in Atlanta Journal.
PITH AND POINT.
Bang-up—Shooting-stars.
Current, bushes — Electric light
plants.
A practical joke—Ouc which will
soil.-—Truth.
Courage is a hardy plant; it thrives
on heaps of Kami.—Truth.
(trit is the only kind of glue that
will ever hold together the stray pieces
of a shattered fortune so that the
cracks will not show.—Puck.
A great many poople do not learn
until they are forty-five or fifty that
it iN dangerous to become confidential
with people.—Atchison Globe.
1 hough woman can t drive ill a nail
She puts to scorn the men
In such a simplo little act
As driving mu a hen.
Indianapolis Journal.
“I sec Officer Flynn has been pro¬
moted for bravery.” “What did ho
do?” “Stood his ground while un¬
other officer shot at a dog. ’’—Chicago
Inter-Ocean.
Mr. Watts- “1 wonder if a woman
ever does get too old to marry?" Mrs.
Watts—“That’s pretty hard to answer.
Ago does not always bring wisdom. ”—
Indianapolis Journal.
To believo oneself more cunning
than others is a mistake. The fox is
more cunning than an ass; hut there
are more for skins in a furrier’s store
than ass skins. —Puck.
“About 750 languages are spoken on
this continent." Rochester Democrat
and Chronicle. And tho man spunks
all of them at once when ho has poked
the lighted end of his cigar in his
month.—Dunsvillo (K. Y.) Breeze.
“How about Mrs. Trueheart’s wed¬
ding? Was it as simple and—” Mrs.
Flyhigh—“Simple? Well, 1 should
say so! She married a man for love,
‘when she could have had one worth
half a million.’’—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
‘Jack Astou (to tho s’toenth hoiross)
— “Must it, ho no, always, Miss
Seadds? My love pleads before a
meroiloss judge.” Miss fleadds—
“True; but what ought an habitual
criminal to expect?”—Kate Field’s
Washington.
“Look in My Mouth.’’
A good story comes from the Windy
City regarding a well-known San Fran¬
ciscan. Mrs. Dr. Cool went east as u
delegate to the world's dental congress
at Chicago. On arriving at her des¬
tination she made an early visit to tho
fail* grounds, and, as usual with so¬
journers in that seductive place, found
upon leaving that she had spent all
her ready cash. (In her way hack to
her hotel, therefore, she stopped at a
Imnk to have a check cashed. As usual,
the clerk informed her that she would
have to be identified. As Dr. Cool
was a stranger in a strange land, she
found herself in a dilemma. She pre¬
sented her card, but that would not
do, when u brilliant idea struck her.
Flashing a beam from the diamond
set in her front teeth upon the clerk,
she said: “Please look in my mouth.”
“Another one gone crazy,” thought
the clerk, but he complied with the
request, looked astonished, smiled and
paid the check, for on the crown in
the dentist’s mouth the clerk read the
inscription, “L. Cool, 181)3. ’’ Identity
was thus established beyond a ques¬
tion, and Mrs. Cool went on her way
rejoicing.—San Francisco News-Letter.
Tlie First Piano.
No one can tell exactly who made
the first piano, for the reason that it
has gradually “evolved” from an in
strument as much itself as one could
well imagine. In the twelfth century
itappearstohaveheenagiganticdnl- merely oblong
cimer, which was an
box holding a series of strings ar
ranged in triangular form across its
centre. In the thirteenth and four
teenth centuries the “clavichord,”
another musical monstrosity, had de
veloped ^ from it, and was used well up
j it 1711 , Christofuli eighteenth of Padua century. invented About
a
i real piano, but if is said to remind one
; Coffee Brain Food.
as a
An eminent medical authority, in a
- recent number of the Boston Surgical
anil Medical Journal, maintains that
coffee is a real brain food, and has the
power of absolutely increasing a man’s
capacity for brain work. The writer
further says: “Opium stimulates the
imagination; alcohol lifts a man up
for the moment to throw him into
confusion and irregularity of action,
but caffeine increases his power of
reasoning, and absolutely adds to his
brainwork capacity for the time.”