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The city of the deah
do neither plight nor wed
In the city of the dead,
In the city where they sleep away the horn’s,
But they lie, while o'er them range
Winter blightand summer change,
And a hundred happy whisperings of flowers.
No, they neither wed nor plight,
And the day is like the night,
For their vision is of other kind than ours.
They do neither sing nor sigh,
In that burgh of by and bv,
Where the streets have grasses growing, cool
end long; •
But they rest within their bed,
Leaving all their thoughts- unsftid,
Deeming silence better far than sob or song.
No, th. v neither sigh nor sing,
(Though the robin be a-wing,
Though the leaves of autumn march a million
cfrnncr
“** ““O'
There is on’y rest and peace
In the City of Surcease,
From the failings and the wailings 'neath the
sun,
And the wings of the swift years
Beat but gently o’er the biers,
Making music to the sleepers, every one
»*There is only peace and rest;
But to them it seemeth best,
For they lie at ease and know that life Is
don?.
-Richard F. Burton, in the Century.
MY RARE ROSE
I am devoted to flowers—flower
mania my friends call me, and, perhaps,
they are right. The only extrav.igauce
I am ever guilty of is the purchase of a
rare plant, and although 1 am far from
Wealthy, yet iny flower collection is
equal, if not superior, to that of my
tieh friends.
Madeline, that’s my wife—says she
can t make a creditable appearance, be
fause, whenever she wants a new bonnet,
happen to want a new plant. Women
faever can reason, you know, and I’ve
exhausted myself in trying to explain,
that while a new bonnet lasts only a
Season, a plant will give you delight "for
years; but all the same Madeline grum
bles and grumbles, and comes back to
the starting point that she wants a bon
net, and that three months of it would
give her more pleasure than years with
toy floral pets.
“I’ve no patience with you, John,”
She exclaims. “Jeanne and l are obliged
to have decent clothes and bonnets, if
we expect to go into society at all. But
much you care for that. If we’d get on
our knees and dig around your hateful
plants with oar hands and—yes— water
them with our tears, you’d think it was
all r ght. ”
, “But salt water wouldn’t be good for
them, my dear,” I say iu perfect good
faith, and then somehow she gets more
furious than ever.
“I l ope they’ll alt die,” she cries, in
her usual impetuous manner. “Yes I
do I- 1 ho]>e they’ll wither before your
eyes I hope something dreadful will
happen to show you what a mean, selfish
creature you are!” and then she burst
into tears and flung herself out of the
toom.
Madeline is a good woman, an excel
lent w;ie, but she will fly out now and
then, aid call me hard names. It's pretty
hard when I’m trying to elevate her
tastes from the frivolities of dress and
fashion, which hive ruined so many
noble souls, and to bring her into sym
pathy with nature.
My daughter Jeanne is as bad as her
mo:her. bhe is eighteen years old and
Very pretty, but she can't be made to
understand that tine dresses are not
needed to set off her charms, and all she
wants of flowers is to cut them and stick
them about her dress. If it wasn’t for
toy plants, life would be a very hard
thing for me with those discontented
females nagging at me.
1 id I tell you loses were my special
pas-ion? No! well, they are, and I have
©ne-hundredand twenty-fivechoice varie
ties of the rose family, and for some of
them 1 would not take ten dollars.
Certainly not for my William Allen
luchardson, which I got from .ew York
a year ago The only one of the species
in the town where I live, and unique of
Its kind.
It is not a remarkably large or double
yellow rose like the Marechale Niel, the
Chromatella or the Etoile de Lyon, but
it is .vugeneri * in its intense orange hue.
When it bloomed out this spring, it re
minded ine of sunsets I had watched in
the Mediterranean and oil the coast of
k Grande Isle :n the Gulf of Mexico. 1
h gazed at it in an ecstasy of delight, and
ViMadelinc eouid hardly get me to my
kneals.
“Why, papa, it’s grakd,” Jeanne cried,
clapping her hands. “It’s just the
shade of flower I want for my
bl&< k lace dress this evening, that jt’m
going to wear at Mrs. Hurston’s party.
Come, papa, are you not going to give
me a bouquet de corsage of the rose?”
Whv, I would sooner have let out
some drops of my heart’s blood, and told
her so Cut my beautiful William Allen
Richardson? It was sacrilege even to
propose it, and I "told her so pretty
plainly. She marched oil in a huff, and
I was suddenly startled by a somewhat
sharp voice at my back.lt
“Ach, die wunderschoenenßosen! It
is lofely.”
I turned and saw a stout, ruddy-look
ing German girl, with her broad face
wreathed with smiles as she gazed ad
miringly at my garden.
•‘What do you want?” I asked.
“I come, the Frau Hyson she send me
to de la*y dat wants a madr/'e .•», a ser
vant.”
“Ves, my wife applied for one. You
will find her in the house.”
“Ach. but the lofely rosen!”she ex
clamed, enthusiastically clasping her
hands, “t ill the Herr not let me valk
in his gar: en and see them?”
I must acknowledge I was charmed
with the girl at once. What refinement
of taste in one so lowly born! But, no,
she could be no common ser.ant, for to
them—
' A primrose bv the river brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more.”
But there was Clarchen—she had told
me her name—with her soul in her light
blue eyes gazing hungrily at the flowers.
Her questions were so intelligent, so
discriminating, that it pleased me to
answer them. She singled out the rarest
of my roses, and rc a'iv seemed to know
ia good deal about them. But the Wili
am Alien Richardson, which she saw
for the first time, evoked the wildest en
thusiasm,
“There isn’t another in the State,” I
said. You see I was inclined to be
rather boastful about my rare rose.
“Why, if I chose to sell those flowers, I
could get a dollar apiece for them, they’re
such a peculiar color.”
Her eyes opened wide and she re
peated, “Adi, one whole tollar!” in
every variety of inflection.
“When you go to Mrs. Elliot,” I
said, “tell her I think she’d better try
you. ”
Her sympathy in my favorite pursuit
had (|iiite won me. If my wife and
daughter had only r such intense apprecia
tion of the beautiful.
“I’ve taken that German girl, John,”
Madeline said, that night.
“<.,uite right, my dear. She seems
quite a superior kind of servant.”
“Don’t know about that,” Madeline
answered, doubtfully. “She cau’t cook
evidently, and her English is just awful.
I went out of the kitchen a minute, and ,
when’ I came back I found her rum- j
maging in the drawers of the dresser, j
and pulling things about as if she was 1
taking an inventory of them. I’ll try
her lor a month, but I don’t think she’ll
suit. ’
So Clarchen was fairly established, and
Madeline s complaints of her stupidity
aud wastefulness were long and deep.
“I’ll ship her before the month is
out,” she grumbled. “Of all idle,
good-for-nothing creatures, Clarchen is
the worst. She pretends not to under
stand me, but she does every word, and
she slurs over her work to get out in
the garden, and potter about among
your precious flowers.”
“Yes, that was true. Every day she
would sWp in the garden and pass be
tween the rows of flowers, carefully
holding back her dress so as not to
brush against them.
Once or twice I had a mind to cut
j some of my common roses and give them
to her to take home at night, but I re
frained from principle. I cannot bear
to cut*my flowers, it almost seems to me
there is a living soul in them, and then
if you begin to give away flowers, your
life is worried out of you by your
neighbors who won’t trouble themselves
to cultivate roses, and seem to think
you ought to be glad to provide them
with the rarest blossoms.
I am very careful to keep my premises
locked, but as we are late risers and as
Clarchen came very early, I was obliged
to give her a key to the gate, that she
might let herself in without waking us.
Fcr a week all went on smoothly—
ClarcheD, if not a capable servant, was a
good-natured one, and my wife thought
she was improving.
One morning going into my garden, I
found my Marechale Niel despoiled of
some of its choicest blossoms. One
magnificent cluster of eight enormous
roses I had been watching for several
days was gone.
“Jeanne,” I cried out excitedly to my
daughter, who was at her window, “did
you cut my Marechale Niels?”
“I’m astonished at you, papa,” she
answered, tossing her head. “Do you
think I would steal your old flowers,
when you refused me a single rose the
other day? I’ve too much pride for
that.”
“Oh, and dey vas so heavenly lofely!”
Clarchen exclaimed. She had run into
the garden when she heard my voice,
and stood there, her hands raised in
sternation:
“I couut dem yesterday. One, two,
t’ree, yes eight big rosen, Ach ffimmel!
who took dem rosen?”
“Somebody's climbed over the feu cm
John, and helped themselves,*’ my vflre
said, dryly. 1 think she really enjoyed
my trouble. “Yes, and it won’t be your
last 10-s, and, perhaps, you’ll learn after
a while that you’d better give your
flowers to he used by your family, than
to leave them for thieves.”
I didn’t dare, tell my wife how many
of my fine roses I missed that morning,
for I knew that precious little sympathy
I would get from her. Hut it was heart
rending to go from one bush to another
to find my finest blooms gone. The thief
evidently had picked and cho-en with a
full knowledge of the rarest varieties.
Clarchen groaned and nearly wept
over my losses, and suggested that 1
should put broken bottles oa the top of
my wall. But 1 had one comfort! My
William Allen Richardson was gorgeous
that morning, and I actually lost the
acute pain of my los-es, in gazing at my
golden treasure. My Aurora I called it,
and in my heart I worshipped the beau
tiful tiling.
I think I must have dreamed of it that
night, for I rose earlier than usual the
next morning, and hurried to the spot.
Was I dreaming. I rubbed my eyes,
and gazed intently at a rose bush with
out a single bloom, torn and ravaged as
if a cyclone had passed over it. That
could not be my William Allen Rich
ardson without a flower or even a single
bud? I sat fiat on the ground, and
buried my face in my bauds, and there
my wife found me. She did not jeer as
usual, but looked really uneasy.
“It isn’t the loss of your flowers that
troubles me,’’.she explained. “You de
serve to loose them, . ohn, but if a thief
can come in and out of your premises in
this way, he won't stop at flowers. I
expect to wake up some morning and
find house and kitchen robbed. You’d
better go to the police station and see
about the matter.”
1 had not the least appetite for my
breakfast that morniog,.and immediately
afterward set off for the police station.
Clarchen complained that morning of
be ing ill, and said she would go li 'me
and lie down for an hour. The loss of
the flowers had given her a nervous
headache.
On the way to the station, I passed
through the L market, and stopped
aimlessly before some of the flower stalls, i
Suddenly I came to a table, and an
electric shock passed through me, when
I saw it piled with fresh, beautiful
bouquets of the William Allen Richard
son. Now I knew positively there was
not another rose of that kind in the
State, but the one I owned. Those were
my flowers, I could swear to them.
“Where did you get those roses.” I
thundered, bringing my fist so violently
down on the table, that the big, black
bearded Gascon standing behind it
started.
“Vot for you askee me dat ?” he cried,
angrily. “Yon drunk, man? I get my
roses vere I gets ’em. Go away or I call
de pleeceman.”
“You’re a thief,” I cried, furiously;
“a miserable, contemptible thief! Those
roses are mine! I can swear to th#a.
You stole them from rae last night.”
The big Gascon sprang to liis feet.
“You say I t’ief, he yelled. “Sacrt
tonnerre!” and the next moment a thun
derbolt indeed struck me, and I was
doubled up against the stall of an Irish,
woman, who punched me in the back
and yelled for police at the top of her
stentorian lungs. But the Gascon wasn’t
done with me by any means. As Istr'ug
gled up he struck me another blow ir
the right eye.
I had never fought since I was st boy,
and have always looked upon brawls ae
disreputable, bnt I was too furious to re
member anything. J struck out wildly,
but the man, who was a professsonal
boxer, just played upon me with his
fists until he had me down again, and
being very stout I .staged down, until a
condescending policeman marched us
both off for fighting and disturbing the
peace. As I was limping along we met
Henderson, an old friend and a deacon
in the church’ as well as myself.
“Why, good gracious, Elliot, can that
be you.■ ”he exclaimed. “ What on earth
is the matter? ::
“Well, my roses were stolen last night
by that fellow,” pointing to the Gascon,
who ground his teeth and shook his fist
at me. “And when I accused him, he
pitched into me”—
“And left you a wreck,” Henderson
! laughed, shamefully. “So after all,
your harmless, innocent flowers have
brought you to grief. Told you it
wouldn’t do to set your heart on them.
AY”ell. I’ll go along* Those folks all
know me—police officers, magistrates
and the whole lot of ’em. They’ll have
to take my word that you are a respecta
ble citizen, for upon my word, Elliot,
with your mashed hat and torn coat and
battered visage, you’re about as dis
reputable looking vagabond as I ever
came across.” And then he laughed
again in a very undignified manner.
When we came before the magistrate,
my Gascon was willing enough to tell all
he knew. He bought the flowers from a
German named Heinrich, a man who
kept a small flower garden in the suburbs
of the city. He had dealt with him for
a year, and liad no reason to suppose he
had stolen any of them. Yes, the man
was married. His wife often brought
the flowers. In fact, she had brought
him the William Allen Richardson that
very morning, and hnggled over the
price, i-he wanted a dollar apiece for
them.
My heart sank into my boots at this
revelation. My sympathetic Clarchen,
my flower-lover, my refined domestic was
the serpent in my garden of Eden. A
few questions brought a description of
the woman, and there was no longer
room for doubt.
A warrant was issued for the arrest of
the rascally couple, and sadly I hobbled
homewards.
My wife and Jeanne met me in the
greatest excitement. “O dear, O dear,”
screamed my wife, “the man lias been
fighting! OJohn! John! are you crazy?
What is the matter? Who has been
treating you so?” And then without wait
ing for a word she went off into strong
hysterics. That’s always the way with
women. When you need them most,
they’re sure to cut up in some way or
other. When she gave me a chance, I
told my story, and then I thought she
was going off in another fit.
“lhe creature has run off, papa,”
Jeanne explained. “She's taken lots of
things from the kitchen, and mamma has
missed six of her tablespoons. And then
we don’t know where she lives.”
“The warrant will unearth her,” I
said, confidently.
But it did not. Hmnrich and his wife
had absconded, and*’ om that day io
this no sign of them has come to us. Not
only my wife’s spoons were missing, hut
Jeanne’s valuable watch and twenty
dollars in cash. Clarchen’s affinity was
not flowers alone, but every species of
plunder.
I must say ail these things gave me a
great shock, and I have never taken the
interest in my flowers since the big
Gascon demolished me because of them.
Jeanne helps herself to them freely, fori
have come to the conclusion that it is a
bad thing to le selfish, even with flow
ers. Youth's Companion.
WISE WORDS.
I
Use both brain and brawn.
Regimen is better than wisdom.
Po verty is hard, but debt is horrible.
There is not a moment without some
duty.
Be silent, or say something bettei
than silence.
True blessedness consisteth in a good
life and a happy death.
Onr deeds determine us as much as
we determine our deeds.
Youth is in danger until it learns to
look upon debts as furies.
The hooded clouds, like friars, tell
their beads in drops of rain.
Knowledge is dearly bought if we
sacrifice to it moral qualities.
You should forgive many things in
others, but nothing in yourself.
Industry has annexed thereto the fair
est fruits and the richest rewards.
Politeness is an easy virtue, costs lit
tle, and has great purchasing power.
Truth should never strike her topsails
in compliment to ignorance or sophistry.
Let our object be our country, our
whole country and nothing but our
country.
1 hilosophv triumphs easily over past
evils and future evils, but present evils
triumph over it.
Praise not people to their faces that
they may pay thee in the same coin. This
is so thin a cobweb that it may with
little diiiiculty be seen through.
There is an old saying that “knowl
edge is power.’’ This is not true. Action
is power, and when guided by knowl
edge produces the largest measure of re
sults.
His Unconscious Eloquence.
The late Henry Ware, of Eoston, was
once in a curious predicament. In the
middle of a sermon his memory failed
him and he stopped abruptly. The pause
seemed long to the preacher before he
regained his thought, and he imagined
the sermon to be a failure iu consequence;
but as he walked quietly up the’aisle, a
d fUrent impression was given to him.
“How did you like the sermon;” asked
one hearer of another. M Like ifcf It is
the best sermon Mr.’ Ware has ever
1 preached! That pause was sublime!”
NEDS AND NOTES FOB WOMEN.
The acme of elegance has been reached
in sash ribbons.
Mrs. Cleveland declares that baseball
is her favorite sport.
Mrs. Warren, a Colorado cattle queen,
is worth $10,00!).000.
Parasols are large and the ribs more
arched than for years past.
Jackets in all shapes are worn by
young ladies on all occasions.
Black hats and small black mantles are
worn with dresses of all colors.
It is a Gotham idea to have a jeweler
appraise the wedding presents.
Out of every 100 female school
teachers seven marry every year.
The fashionable tea gowns are dis
repectfully called “Oolong wrappers.”
In .spite of all predictions to the con
trary, heliotrope is still a popular color.
The daughter of Rev. Edward Everett
Hale is a portrait painter of marked
ability.
Mauve veiling and white moire is a
stylish as well as favorite summer com
bination.
Miss Alice Louise Pond gets the de
gree of B. A. from Columbia College,
New York.
A realistic raspberry in bright gar
nets is shown among the heads lor new
bonnet pins.
Anything Chinese or Japanese, from
a silk gown to a small tea set, is now
fashionable.
The Alexandria, a woman’s club in
London, is but four years old, yet has
(300 members.
Women of quiet tastes and refinement
are not in the least enthusiastic over the
new sun-shades.
Ashes of roses is revived among the
new gray tints, and takes the name of
Malmaisou gray.
Round hats are worn on almost every
occasion, aud are very sensible and at
tractive in shape.
The women of Denver, Col., voted
very generally upon school questions at
the recent election.
Miss Amelie Rives received SIOOO
from the I.ippincotts for her novel, “The
Quick and the Dead.”
Lace is more used in millinery and
dress decoration than ever, and all kinds
of laces are in vogue.
The latest fad among New York girls
is getting up a collection of dummy cats
for house decoration.
There are many shades of Gobelin
blue, ranging from Sevres to gray blues
of various gradations.
The Ipdiana women’s prison and re
formatory, near Indianapolis,is managed
exclusively by women.
Black ribbon over a color slightly
broader is the preferred sash for wear
with black lace gowns.
Ribbons for bonnet strings are per
ceptibly wider and have piaiu edges, the
picot being hopelessly passe.
Women’s hats become bigger and
bigger, and it is ratljer a curious thing
that no two are exactly alike.
Three score Christian women of Han
nibal, Mo., have formed an association
for the purjxise of enforcing the Sunday
law.
Miss Mary A. Rice, of Atchison, is the
first woman graduate of the Kansas
State University’s Department of Phar
macy.
A circular fan into which sweet
scented grass is bound by tiny ribbons
waits perfumed breezes upon beauty’s
cheek.
In Japan every unmarried woman
wears a scarlet skirt. This she discards
and stains her teeth black when she
marries.
A close observer has discovered why
ladies always cross their feet when
riding in a street car. It makes the feet
look smaller.
The long veil attached to hats for driv
ing and other occasions makes a very
dressy addition to the head gear in the
direetoire style.
Mrs. John Sherwood repudiates the
etiquette which demands that a lady
should bow to a gentleman before he can
presume to bow.
Many of the newest hats seem to aim
at the flower-garden effect, so many,
various and wonder-stirring are the
blossoms they carry.
Straw round hats are most incon
gruously garnished with much point
d’esprit, net and aigrettes and garlands
of leaves and flowers.
A young woman at Beloit, Kan., was
recently paid the bounty on the scalps
of nine young wolves which she eaptured
while herding cattle.
An Allentown (Penn.) tailoring firm
employs a young woman to collect from
the swell customers who are inclined to
shirk paying honest debts.
Striped nun’s veiling is a novelty in
white fabrics this season and makes de
cidedly stylish costumes for afternoon
wear. It is very appropria* e for half
mourning.
Three of the six fellowships at Cornell
University open to competition among
the students have been won by women
this year. The fellowships carry with
them an income of S4OO each.
A French writer classes all women by
the size of their thumbs. Those with
large thumbs are said to be more likely
to possess native intelligence, while the
small thum s indicate feeling.
There are actual landscapes on some
of the French bro ades imported for
evening dress, and a girl condemned to
play wallflower may pass away the time
by looking at the picture on her frock.
A Kentucky woman has patented a
quid-holder tor gum-chewers, and wo
men and girls will no longer be obliged
to stick their quids on door-casings and
window shutters when their jaws demand
a rest.
A large ranch near Carbondale, Col.,
is owned and personally managed by
Mrs. Gregory, whose pluck is the admi
ration o. her neighbors. She is making
the ranch pay and bids fair to become
wealthy.
A petition seven yards in length and
bearing the signatures of 500 prominent
people was recently presented to the New
Ha-en (Conn.) Board of Fducaticn re
questing the establishment of cooking as
a part of the regular curriculum.
Aucut fashions in flowers, thirty years
ago thousands of eamclia flowers were
retailed in the holiday seasons for #1
each, while rosebuds would not bring a
dime. Now many of the fancy roses
sell at $1 each, while eamelia flowers go
begging.
Hugs and beetles, as is natural, art
found where the flower trimmings
abound, and are seen on the blossoms of
all sorts which abound in an unwonted
luxuriance this season. They are either
the real creature dried and varnished,
or a metal counterfeit.
A letter has reached the Chicago post
office addressed to “A young lady that
wants to marry.’ - It is from Tyler,
Te as, and the wJter’s sole condition is
that the recipient must be 21 years old
and at work for herself—in which case
she may consider himself and 32(J acres
of land at her disposal.
In natty summer fashions a host of
details are borrowed from gentlemen’s
dress. There are narrow and flowing
cravats, both plain and colored; pleated
shirt fronts, and jeweled studs, scarf
pins, and linked buttons for throat and
sleeves, with a coarse, high corsage. A
lace frill very closely gathered is worn,
this copied from the masculine toilet ot
a former epoch,
4 Low Type of Humanity.
Professor Lee ascribes a different origin
to the name of Terra del Puego than is
given in the geographies that were
studied in the schools. These text books
said that the number of volcanoes about
give the country its forbidding name,
but the Professor says there are no vol
canoes anywhere about there. The
natives of the country live in long bark
canoes, in the centre of which a tire is
always burning. When to kindle a lire
meant to rub two sticks together until
they started to burn, the savages were
careful not to let their tires go out, and
the custom survives. The name comes
from these ever-burning tires.
The natives have learned the use o!
matches and tobacco, and these com
modities command a high price in Terra
del Fuego. A sheep or a baby is < on
sidered a fair equivalent for a plug oi
tobacco or a bunch of matches. If the
choice of the price is given the nati e he
will always give the baby, as there is a
much greater demaud for sheep than for
young Fuegans.
The Fuegans are not a warlike race,
though they are very skilful with theii
primitive bows and arrows. The arrows
are not feathered, and the barb consists
of a triangular piece of glass ground
sharp.
Though the Fuegans are very low in
the human scale, they are careful not to
offend the eyes of strangers. An expiorei
approaching a boat sees only the best
looking squaw of the party. She
handles a paddle in the stern and steers
the boat. Her less comely sister—there
are always two families on a boat —is
hidden ingeniously under the seats.
There are no old women in Terra del
Fuego. When a woman gets to the
right age, about forty live, she is con
sidered to have done her duty. With
appropriate ceremonies, therefore, she is
either lanced or strangled and the family
larder is replenished with her roasted
remains.
The women when they see the time of
sacrifice approaching, never attempt to
escape it. They regaid it as about al
most as settled a fact as that the wind
should blow, and never trouble them
selves about it. The Fuegans are not
cannibals further than this. They never
eat children, young women or men.—
San Francisco Examiner.
How the Chinese Farmers Obtain Dean
Cakes and Beau Oil.
A recent consular report furnishes the
following queer facts: At Ming-Hong,
a village some twenty miles from Shang
hai, there is a bean-cake establishment,
employing about fifty men. Water
buffaloes ;bos bubalus) propel the clumsy
machinery, about thirty being required
to do what one small steam-engine could
easily perform. Two ponderous stone
wheels revolve in opposite directions, and
at the same time have a second motion,
both of them being run around a stone
platform,and at regular intervals a quan
tity of beans fall from a hopper and are
ground beneath the heavy wheels. The
oil that is expressed finds its way into a
reservoir, and what is left is removed
and distributed along a circular stone
groove, about nine inches deep and ten
yards in diameter. A stone wheel,
beveled to an edge, is run around in this
groove, and forms a most laborious hut
effectual method of pulverizing the
beans. This beveled wheel is dragged
around by a blindfolded buffalo. Being
blindfolded, he avoids dizziness, which
constant traveling around a circle would
produce, and is less likely to become in
subordinate.
After the pulverization process is com
plete (he pulp is steamed. The fire used
In keeping up steam is made with r.ce
or wheat chaff. Handful by handful this
light article is tossed into the fire, by
which means great beat is secured. After
steaming, the mass is pressed into cakes.
The size of the cakes vary from eight
inches to about thirty inches in diameter,
resembling the appearance of grind
stones. The piess consists of a hori
zontal frame on which a number of the
forms are placed. Pressure is obtained
by wedges. Farmers take their beans to
these establishments to be converted
into cakes, and in some localities the
bean cake maker takes the oil for his
recompense instead of money. When
soaked in water bean cake makes a good
winter fodder for cattle. It is also used
as a fertilizer.
The Farmer Boy.
Bless the farmer boy! I'fider his
slouched hat is ten times more wood lore
than any of us possess. He can tell you
as the warm spring days come where the
pheasant is building her nest; how many
eggs the quail had yesterday down in
til:; iangled weeds in the old pasture
lot; he cannot tell you the name, but
knows that brown bird with spotted
breast sitting yonder. In the deep
shadows of tho woods it sings a sweet
song that softly echoes among the
great trees like the tinkling of silver
bells, while he sits on the moss-covered
rock and listens until the shadows
turn to darkness; downnhe old log road
he hastens home to dream of the dark
woods and green meadows, of the foam
ing waters that rush by the great rocks
of the deep, quiet pool, barred ovei
with the shadows of the alders, and
where the trout hide away. Bless tht
farmer boy! —Forest and Stream.
BE BRAVE, MY HEART.
tk. u.oru, my heart, through every ill
That cruel Fate to thee doth send,
To every struggle comes an end,
And so to thine there surely will.
Be brave, my heart, remember all
The brave hearts that have lived before—
Their hard-fought combats now are o’er—
N'o more they start at trumpet call.
Be 1 rave, my hea^t—thy battles fight
With steady nerve, unfalt’ring hand,
And hope that thou the promised land
May one day view from somo far heigh
Be brave, my heart, ar.d shouldn’t thou knot
Thyseif defeated—done to death—
Be brave—bo brave till thy last breath
And die—thy face turned toward the foe
—Edith Sessions l'apgisf
HUMOR OF Till: DAY.
Maid to order—A servant girl.
The man with twins is deucedly happy
llow to make the most of yourself—Pad.
A sonny retreat—A boy’s orphan asy
lum.
A crown jewel—The bump of con
sistency.
In Boston tlie horse-fiddle is called the
“equine violin.”
The topmost crag is a soar spot fo-r the
American eagle.
A middle man appears to be a central
figure in trade circles.
When an aeronaut smokes in his bal
loon he takes an aerolite.
The greatest hard-ships in the world
are England’s ironclads. Ocean.
The Englishman who said that hug
ging was “armless ” was wrong. It is
’armful.
The most successful dentist must ex
pect to run against a snag occasionally.
— Northwestern.
A two-year old hoy can be kept quiet
for a minute and a half if you give him a
hammer and a miiror.
To write a good story for the public a
man must have a good upper story of his
owu. — New Orleans Picaguiu.
Says tlie weighing machine to the
nickel: “While you’re round this way
drop in.” —Detroit Free Press.
A Boston girl attended a cooking school
and became so infatuated with the cul
inary art that she married a supe.
Fortunately for the esteem of the rest
of mankind doctors are not half as wise
as they look.— lndianapolis Journal.
Funny, isn’t it, that after a man has
once given his word he should try so
hard to keep it.— S'. Albans Messenger.
Did it ever occur to you that, although
the bass drum don’t make good music, it
drowns a heap of bad?— Toledo Blade.
The Chicago girl’s foot has disappeared
from the paragraph column and there is
a mighty big bole to fill. —Boston Courier.
Our Congressmen are worthy souls,
With more or less of lustre;
They may not fill a long-felt want,
But they can tiliouster—
—Mercury.
History repeats itself over and over.
We often hear of the seaman who is Able
being knocked out by a hurri-Cane.
Ocean.
It is one of the peculiarities of things
in general that the freshest men gener
illy tell the stalest stories.— Bangor Com
mercial.
There are few things in life more
touching than the umbrella of ati aver
age citizen in the art gallery. —Bar ing
ton Free Press.
Out West a limburger cheese trust has
been formed. There’s a trust that cer
tainly will be in bad odor with the peo
ple. Toledo Blade.
The rose is blooming in the glade,
Wherein the lily nods;
And Patrick, with a shining spade,
Is whacking down the sods.
— Siftings.
If all men knew as much as most men
think they know, the encyclopedia peo
ple would be driven out of the business.
—Somerville Journal.
The two Indianapolis militiamen who
wouldn’t pay for their street-car ride
doubtless consider that the brave deserve
the fare. Courier-Journal.
Wile (club night)—“Will you be home
early to-nignt, John?” Husband—
“Ye’es, I think so, but don’t keep break
fast waiting for me.” —New York Sun.
A cynic says: “If the ancients be.
lieved the earth was square they never
could have got the idea from the deal
ings of its inhabitants with each other.”
A man can master the free lunch route,
And a man can carry the banner,
But he can’t sew the rip in his Sunday coat,
Because he isn’t bnilt in that manner.
—New York Mercury.
Phasmsius (poking his head in at the
nursery'door)—“Hulloa! What’s going
on in here, now?” Lavina who is dress
ing their little one’s feet) —“Baby’s sock*
papa.” — Detroit Free Press.
There is no Spanish Cabinet, the Min
isters having resigned. This crisis occurs
at an unfortunate period, as the King is
extremely busy teething just now, and
cannot be interested in State matters.—
lia'Jester Post-Express.
“Don’t you sing?” inquired the musical
young lady of the new arrival at the
hotel; “ why, how stupid of you!” “If
you’d ever heard me try, ” said the young
man, with an accent of conviction, “you'd
think it was everlasting smart of me. ”
When Arthur was a very small boy his
mother reprimanded him one day for
some misdemeanor. Not knowing it, his
father began to talk to him on the same
subject. Looking up in his face, A rthur
s aia solemnly. “My mother lias ’tended
to me.”
Together they dined and he bored her with
sighs,
With bashful advances and dull sheepish
eyes:
Tbe v dined upon quail, and she swears by the
moon,
She'll not dine again upon quail with a spoon!
“Doctor—(who has been taking a dis
pensary patient's temperature) —“Now,
my good worrmn, how do you leel?”
I’ationt (eyeing the thermometer with
:onsiderable awe) —“Much better, thank
fe: Sure an’ that’s a wonderful thing
:hat’ll help a body so quick!”— Judge.
After a person has a fountain pea
sicked endwise through his chest by the
uiimal to which he has awarded the
arise, and later on has his features
vorked np into a gibbet-pie by the owner
>f the animal to whom he did not award
;he prize, he does not ask for further
public recognition at the hands of hi*
fellow-farmers. The World.