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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.