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Bain-Drops on the Root
Bark ! I hear a patter,
Falling soft and sweet,
Bike the dancing footsteps
Of some fairy’s feet.
'Jis the sound of raindrops,
Raindrops on the roof.
Fairy little raindrops.
Raindrops on the roof.
oh ! they sing of blessing,
From the Father’s hand,
As they fall so gently
On the thirsty land.
Listen to the raindrops,
Raindrops on the roof.
Happy, smiling raindrops,
Raindrops on the roof.
Falling, gently falling,
Whisp’ring soft and low,
Of His love and goodness,
Telling as they go.
Hear the patt’ring raindrops,.
Raindrops on the roof.
Softly whisp’ring raindrops,
Raindrops on the roof.
—Lotty C. Mosey.
the AERONAUT’S STORY,
Is Jack Tunnicliffe going with you
to-morrow. Tom?” said my wife to
me “I wish you would take some
I [ one else.”
“Why, Norah?” I asked.,
“He's been stranger than ever in
tis manner since his wife died, I hear.
In fact, I’ve been told by more than
one person that he’s quite insane at
times. It’s not to be wondered at if
1 he is, poor fellow. I don’t know a sad
der case. He’d only been married a
irsek. Such a horrible death, tool
It’s enough to turn a man’s brain, and
Imust confess, Tom, I wish Jack was
going with you. ”
not
“Nonsense,” Norah! People al¬
ways exaggerate and make the worst
of things, as you know. If a man’s
at all original or eccentric, it’s at once
assumed that he’s non compos. Of
course, Jack’s low-spirited audabsent
| minded, and perhaps bit peculiar at
times. How can he help brooding
I over his terrible loss? He wants some
exciting occupation to take off his
thoughts from his trouble. He’s as
fond of ballooning as I am, and a trip
will do him all the good in the world.’,
The above conversation between my
I wife and myself took place on the
' evening before the day which I had
fixed for a balloon ascent. Balloon¬
ing was my hobby. I had conceived
a liking for it on my very first ascent.
This liking had become a “craze,”
for the acre! experience and strange
sensa;;;n of sailing over houses and
trees. Mid of soaring into the clouds
had a peculiar fascination for me.
Recently, I had trid to combine
utility with pleasure, and had made
some ascents solely for scientific pur¬
poses. I had found a kindred spirit
in young Tunnicliffe, and we had had
many delightful and successful trips
together. Owing to the untimely
death of my friend’s wife, our aerial
expeditions had been suspended for a
while. As several weeks had elapsed
since that sad event, I felt anxious to
resume this expeditions, and as Tun¬
nicliffe had expressed his willingness
to accompany me, a day had been
fixed for our next trip. It was when
I was talking to my wife about this
self-same trip that she expressed her
regret that Jack Tunnicliffe was going
with me.
I had not much difficulty, however,
in overcoming her objections and al¬
laying her fears. She was not averse
to my hobby, and had even accom¬
panied me in one or two of my jour¬
neys in the air. Moreover, she sym¬
pathized with me in my desire “to
make some useful discovery,” aud was
therefore unwilling to damp) my ardor,
or hinder the progress of my observa¬
tions. She had felt the exhilarating
effect of a balloon ascent, and my ref¬
erence to the benefit young Tunni¬
cliffe would probably derive from the
projected trip appealed to her ex¬
perience as well as to her tender
heart.
Accordingly, next day at the ap¬
pointed time, everything being in
readiness, we started on our aerostatic
journey. Tunnicliffe, contrary to his
usual demeanor, seemed a little ex¬
cited, but this caused me no appre
hensions. His interest had apparent¬
ly been awakened, and it was only
natural that he should be animated
°u such an occasion. The balloon
was set at liberty as soon as we had
taken our seats, and the machine rose
beautifully, breeze, There was a gentle
which bore us slightly south¬
ward. We rose slowly at first, and so
■had plenty of time to gaze on the vast
and extending panorama below us.
Presently we entered a huge bank
or mountain of cloud of the kind
called cumulus, and were surrounded
by a chilling mist which induced me
to put on the wraps we had brought.
AY hen we emerged from the cloud a
scene of fairy-like beauty suddenly
burst upon us. We were in a kind of
basin surrounded by mountains of
cloud of the most fantastic shapes, of
enormous size and of dazzling bright¬
ness. Now and then, as we rose, we
caught sight also of wondrous ravines
of curious shape and great depth.
These mountains of clouds, with their
silvery and golden sides, their dark
shadows, their varied tints and sum¬
mits of dazzling whiteness, presented
to our wondering gaze a scene of sur¬
passing beauty and grandeur.
This sublime spectacle evoked my
highest admiration, while the silence
and vastness of space inspired me with
awe. I drank in these exquisite and
varied delights with such avidity and
with such absorbing interest, that I
had scarcely looked at, or spoken to
my companion since we had started.
But an exclamation from him now
diverted my attention, and glancing
at him, I was surprised to see that he
had risen and was much excited.
“What is it, Jack?” I asked.
“Isn’t it glorious?” he replied. “I
wonder if heaven is much more
beautiful? How delightful it would
be if we could reach it! I should see
my Ada again, then. ”
“My dear fellow!” I interposed,
hastily, somewhat alarmed—not so
much by his words as by his excited
manner and wild look; “you think
too much of these things. You have
been brooding over your loss more
than is good for you. Will you— ”
“At any rate,” cried he, vehement¬
ly, “it’s worth trying, so here goes,”
and seizing one of the sandbags he
threw it over. The lightened balloon
at once began to rise more quickly.
i i What are you doing, Jack?” I
shouted. “For heaven’s sake, keep
calm. We are a good height already.
We shan’t be able to breathe if we go
much higher. It’s getting uncomfort¬
able as it is. ”
“Shan’t we? W’e shall see about
that. I’m going to try, anyhow. Be¬
sides, I don’t care if I can’t breathe.
I want to see my Ada. That’d all I
care about.”
I began to fear the worst. Was he
going mad? Were the reports my
wife had heard literally true, and not
exaggerated after all? AVhat a fool
I had been not to be more cautious!
Whether he was mad or not, he was
in a dangerous mood, and my posi¬
tion was far from pleasant. To op¬
pose him would evidently aggravate
him and make matters worse. To
humor him was undoubtedly the wisest
course.
“Look here, Jack! I cried. “You
say you want to see Ada. I cau tell
you of a better and surer way of going
to her than this. If you will listen
me —there I involuntarily moved
mv hand toward the valve-cord 1—if
you will listen to me I-”
None of your blarney, man? I’m
not to be wheedled so. I’m to old a
boy for that. Leave the cord alone,
can’t you? I’m not going down again
to-day. I’m going to see what’s up
there, and don’t you try to stop me,”
and he glared fiercely at me.
The horrible nature of my situation
was now only too apparent—there
could no longer be any doubt of Tnn
nicliffe’s condition. I was in a bal¬
loon with a mad man, and about four
miles from the earth. I felt the cold
sweat on my brow, and my brain be
gan to rest, But with a tremendous
effort I pulled myself together for
my only chance of safety was iu re¬
taining my self-possession. To at
tempt to overpower him was out of
the question—the strength of a mad¬
man is so well known My only hope
of escape was to outwit him. But
how? Forced into unnatural activity
as my brain was by my desperate
situation, and by the necessity of
prompt action, I could think of
device or ruse that would do any go.
I was completely at the mercy of the
madman. height that
We were now at such a
asphyxia was imminent. I could hear
my heart throb quite plainly. I
breathed with difficulty, and a hor¬
rible sensation like that of sea sick
ness came over me. The cold was so
intense that I shivered, notwithstand-
ing my wraps. The mental strain
was terrible. I was almost frantic.
Knowing, however, that in a few mia
utes I should be unconscious, and that
then all would be over with me, I
nerved myself for one last effort.
As I rose from my seat my eye fell
on the grapnel. Fortunately it was
ou my side of the car. A sudden idea
struck me, here was a weapon to hand.
It was an awful thought—it would be
terrible deed. B:it there was now no
alternative, no time for delay. My
senses were going. I stretched out
my hand, but the madman, who never
took his eye off me, had detected my
purpose. With a sudden movement
he darted forward and seized the
grapnel,- but in his eagerness to fore¬
stall me he had precipitated himself
too far over the side of the car and al¬
most lost his balance. He made a
desperate effort to recover himself,
but, seized with a sudden and irresist¬
ible impulse, I pushed him over, and
with a horrible yell, which rings in
my ears whenever I recall the occur¬
rence, the madman disappeared from
my sight.
Almost mad myself—I am not sure
that I was not quite so just then—I
climbed into the ring to reach the
valve line. But my hands were so
stiff and numb with the cold that I
could not grasp the cord. By a kind
of inspiration which seemed provi¬
dential I seized the cord with my
teeth, and after two or three tugs the
valve opened with a loud clang, and
the balloon began to descend. Thank
heaven ! I was saved. My hands be¬
ing useless, I was obliged to throw up
my arms and drop into the car, where
I lay motionless and unconscious for
a while.
My swoon could not have lasted more
than a few seconds, for when I recov¬
ered the barometer showed that I was
still in a high altitude, although the
balloon was descending rapidly. I
rubbed aud beat my hands until the
circulation was restored. Then I set
about taking the necessary precautions
against a too rapid descent, But I
acted more like an automaton than a
conscious agent, for I seemed in a
kind of stupor or trance all the time.
How and where I reached the solid
earth I cannot say. I have only a
dim, hazy recollection of being sur¬
rounded by a crowd of people. Some
were bending over me and seemed to
be questioning me, but I couldn’t
make out what they said. I felt an
awful pain in my head, and remember
nothing more until I found myself in
bed in a dark room and my wife bend¬
ing over me. This was several days
afterward, and I learned then that I
had been brought home in a delirious
state and had had brain fever.
When I recovered my friends con¬
gratulated me, and tried to persuade
me that as my homicidal act was done
in self-defence it was justifiable. I
hope it was, but I can never recall it
without misgiving and horror, and I
have never made a balloon ascent
since. —Tit-Bits.
“Jim” Fisk’s Fortune.
A current paragraph says that at the
time of his death Jim Fisk was sup¬
posed to be worth $2,000,000, and that
it is hard to believe that the only means
of support Fisk’s widow now has is a
small income from property in Ver¬
mont which came to her from her own
family. The writer of the paragraph
is seemingly ignorant of the popular
legend that Jay Gould quietly and re¬
morselessly gobbled up every penny
of Fisk’s belongings as soon as Fisk
breathed his last. The two friends
had offices adjoining each other, and
between Mem used one safe. After
Fisk’s death an examination demon¬
strated that there was actually noth¬
ing in the safe but air and dust, and
Gould subsequently testified upon the
witness stand that the firm of Fisk &
Gould had no assets. Nobody knows
where Jim Fisk’s two millions went,
but everybody can give a pretty close
guess.—Chicago Record.
Two Boys Kill a Lion.
Two boys of a dozen summers, Gee.
Ward and Oscar Gale by name, suc¬
ceeded in killing a California bon near
Amador one day last week. The boys
shot the animal with buckshot, and
after an exciting chase of half a mile,
with the aid of a dog, they succeeded
in killing it. The lion measured eight
feet from tip to tip.—San Francisco
Chronicle.
Enjoys Torturing Pirates.
In Wenchow, China, the mandarie
has recently taken the torture punish¬
ment of pirates into his own hands.
He actually had all the inquisitorial
apparatus removed from the magis¬
trate’s court to his own official ya
men and there set up. Each day two
prisoners charged with piracy are
brought before him, and he amuses
himself by torturing them in all the
most approved ways, The poor
wretches are taken from the hideous
jail, where vermin crawl over the
walls, and the stench is unendurable.
They are so loaded with chains that
they have to be helped along by an
official on each side. Arrived at the
yamen they are made to kneel, without
trousers, on a great heap of chains.
Then a bar of wood is passed behind
the knees, the back is fixed against
an upright post by pulling the victim’s
queue through a hole in it, the arms
are stretched out and fastened to a
crosspiece,and the thumbs are secure¬
ly tied with cords. Then a crank is
turned and the machine strains all the
cords so that the poor wretch’s joints
are nearly pulled out of their sockets,
and the agony is so great that the
strongest man loses consciousness.
When the sufferer has fainted,servants
rush forward, and while several throw
water in his face, others beat him
with timber switches. When he is
revived he is taken out of the ma¬
chine and removed again to prison.
The process is carried on every day
until the prisoner confesses or gives
up* the ghost.
It is said that the Wenchow man¬
darin enjoys this torturing with the
keen zest of a voluptuary, and that he
has devised several new and ingenious
variations in the process, which are
warranted to produce actuate agony
without seriously impairing the
strength of the victim.—Detroit Free
Press.
The Female Criminal Excels the Male.
Dr. Lombroso, the Italian special¬
ist in criminology, has written a book
on “The Female Offender,” in which
he says; “The female born criminal
is far more terrible than the male.
She combines the worst qualities of
both sexes—the woman’s excessive de¬
sire for revenge, cunning cruelty, love
of dress and uutruthfulness ; the man’s
vices, fickleness, fearlessness, audac¬
ity and often muscular strength. Celto
wrote in the fifteenth century: ‘No
possible punishment can deter women
from heaping up crime upon crime.
Their perversity of mind is more fer¬
tile in new crimes than the imagina¬
tion of a judge iu new punishments.’
Eykise said: ‘Feminine criminality is
more cynical, more depraved and
more terrible than the criminality of
the male.’ ‘Rarely,’ says the Italian
proverb, ‘is a woman wicked, but
when she is she surpasses the man. ’
Then comes Euripides with this
crusher: ‘The violence of the ocean
waves or of devouring flames is ter¬
rible. Terrible is poverty, but womau
is terrible than all else. > >>
more
What a Strike Costs.
The report of the Illinois Bureau of
Labor Statistics contains some very
interesting information in regard to
the great strike in that state last year.
There were 2,520 miners engaged in
the strike, working 276 mines and
operated by 209 owners, The coal
reports establish the average daily
wages of all men in machine mines,
also at all other mines where men are
paid by the day at about $2 per man
per day. Hence it will be assumed in
this estimate that $2 per day is a fair
average daily wage per man. It is
found that 25,207 men suspending
work and losing an average of 33.6
days each sustained the loss of a total
of 846,955 days, aggregating the sum
of §1,693,910 as the total loss in
wages. This gives a loss of $67.20 to
each man.—Atlanta Constitution.
No Flies High Up in the Sky-Scrapers.
“If you will take notice,” said a
tenant of the Chamber of Commerce,
“you will see that there are no flies
on ns, or in our office. Haven’t seen
one since we moved in. I was com¬
menting on the fact the other day,
when an old inhabitant told me that
lies will not stay at an elevation of
aver thirty feet above the ground.
Since then I have kept watch, and
have come to the conclusion that he
knew what he was talking about.”—
Detroit Journal.
The Sweet Watermelon. I
■“How dear to my heart are the days of my
childhood”—
How memory loves on their beauty to
dwell!
The journey from school through the field
and the wildwood
To the sweet watermelon that cooled in the
well!
The sweet watermelon—
The striped watermelon—
The big Georgia melon that cooled in the
well!
In fancy I still hear the dinner bell ringing,
(’Twas ever a welcome and musical bell!)
Aud the men from the lieids on the mules
would go singing
To the sweet watermelon that cooled in
the well!
The sweot watermelon—
The fat watermelon—
The big Georgia melon that cooled in the
well!
Now age has taught mortals to store it and
ice it.
And sometimes, beholding, I seem to rebel,
When I think of the tree where we’d take it
and slice—
The sweet watermelon that cooled in the
well!
The sweet watermelon—
The fat watermelon—
The big Georgia melon that cooled in the
well!
—Atlanta Constitution.
HUMOROUS.
It is the wife of a bridge-builder
who should be named Bridget.
Why does the new moon remind
one of a giddy girl? Because she is
too young to show much reflection.
The man who stole a glance has not
yet been arrested, although his atten¬
tion was arrested when he stole the
glunce.
Judge—Were you ever up before
this court? Everett Wrest—Can’t
say, judge. What time do your honor
git up?
His teeth are loose and his nose is a sight,
And his head!—they’ve in bandages bound
It;
He went out to look for trouble last night,
And he found it.
Belle—Mr. Jolyer is such a nice man.
He said I had a voice like a bird.
Neil—Yes, he told me you sang like
an owl.
“Go to the ant, thou sluggard,”
don’t seem to be heeded in any way
by the sluggard, who generally goes
to his uncle.
There is no reason why an elderly
woman shouldn’t be well preserved.
The young ones have so much sugar
in their composition, you know.
Experience in the world’s ways shows
That, as a general rule,
The politician who has the push,
Is the one who has the pull.
Jo says that the best lip salve iu
creation is a kiss. The remedy should
be used with great care, as it may
bring on an affection of the heart.
Clara—“He has proposed three or
four times, and I don’t know whether
to accept him or not.” Maud—“I
would. Suppose he should stop?”
“Oh, give me anything made of
beans!” exclaimed the Boston man
taken sick in the West, when asked
what he would have to eat. They
gave him castor oil.
It’s the summer fly that bustles,
Till within the spider’s gates.
And the spider never hustles,
But he gets there while he waits.
Old lady (to motorman on trolley
car)—Ain’t you afraid of the elec¬
tricity, Mr. Motorman? Motorman—
No, ma’am, 1 ain’t got no call to bo
afraid. I ain’t a conductor.
Blobbs—“How is it you are never
troubled with tramps? You don’t
keep a dog, do you?” Slobbs—“No ;
but my wife bakes her own cake, and
they have tumbled to it.”
She—“Do you know, Harry, father
has forbidden you the house?” He—
“Forbidden me the house! I never
asked him for his house. His daugh¬
ter is good enough for me.”
He lifted his hat with a Chesterfield’s grace,
While his cheeks with blushes were deeply
dyed;
A girl to the right looked fighting mad,
A girl to the left looked pleased and glad—
The fellow, you see, was cross-eyed!
Figg—Wonder why it is that these
professional pugilists are such con¬
founded talkers? Fogg—Perhaps it
is because of a determination on their
part never io be struck speechless.
She, poatingly—Before we were
married you used to bring me candy
every time you came. He, briskly—
Yes, my dear, and it cost a good deal
less than the meat and potatoes I
bring you now.