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Me Uitj Ties. THENTON, GEORGIA. Lord Wolseley, Commander-ia-Chief of the British Army, declares in favor of compulsory military service. Wh le \ ermont is almost stationary, Nevada is the only Sta’e in the Union that is actually declining in population. The Emperor of Japan is the first Asiatic ruler who has promulgated a con stitution guaranteeing certain rights to his subjects. China is calling upon other nations to aid her starving millions, and vet $1 ,- OuO.OOO are to be spent on her young Emperor’s marriage. About $ i 0,('O ',000,000, or one-seventh of our total national wealth, is invested in our railway system, which comp lses more than halt the total mileage of the world. The Courier-Journal facetiously an nounces that “the King of Samoa is dis contented, not because his salary is only S2O a month, but because he has to take part of it in cocoanuts.” All European Governments acknowl edge that Uncle Sam has the strongest weapon of war in the Zalinski dynamite gun. A French paper says every one such gun is equal to five iron-clads. St. Louis now sots up its claim to be the leading mart for the sale of staple cotton goods in the country, not except ing either New lork or Chicago, and her newspapers present facts and figures to prove it. Leprosy is dying out in Canada. The report of the Agricultural Department Bhows that there are nineteen patients, eight males and eleven females, in the Lazaretto at Tweed e. New Brunswick. In its early history the institution con tained twice the present number of lepers. We have all heard of buildings in Europe which are epics in stone, but it remained for an eccentric Philadelphian to construct a remarkable structure which he calls a “poem in brick.” The style of the architecture is a mixture ol arabesque and very early American. And it is completely covered with stucco work, representing eagles, animals,flow ers, fruit and goddesses of liberty. The great Eiffel tower at the Paris Ex position stands 981 feet high and weighs 8600 tons. The committee have selected three different models of elevators. Two elevators will go up to the first plat form, two others to the second, and an other lift will move between the second and third platform in a vertical line. The whole trip will take five minutes and the cages will be able to take up 750 persons an hour. There were 19 5 accidents on the railroad* of the United States during 1*88; There were 04 collisions, 1032 derailments and 99 other accidents, Cf the collisions 404 were from the rear, 311 were hutting and 89 on crossings. Defects in load caused 18 • derailments; defects of equipments caused 148, and neglect in operating caused 117,' The killed numbered ii 37, x>f whom 434 were employes and 108 passengers. No Government on the European Con tinent, according to the Kew York Time , has done more for the develop ment of heavy ordnance for naval pur poses than that of Italy. The national policy for twenty years has been to ob tain great war ships, arm them with monster guns and give her vessel en gines of prodigious powers. So well has Italy succeeded in carrying out these pro jects that her naval strength is of vast proportions, embodying war vessels which in size and tonnage have but few equals. The Asso dated Tea Planters (Lim ited , says the London Figaro, is an undertaking with a capital of $ 150,000 in $5 shares, whose object is to establish markets in the United States of America and in Canada for the sale of tea grown on plantations in the East Indies. It does not appear that anything in the shape of purchase-money is to be paid, but intending investors will require to know the nature of the agreement which has been entered into with Mr. W. Macgregor, “a gentleman who has been extensively connected with the tea trade in New York.” Despite all the means of popular education, asserts the San Francisco Chronicle, illiteracy is increasing in this country, and, what is a far worse symptom, the ratio of criminals con victed of grave crimes is growing every year. The official figures show these facts: In 1850 there were 290 prisoners in our penitentiaries to each million of population. In ten years this ratio had grown to 607, and in another decade to 853. By 1880 this ratio had been swollen to 1169, and if the same percentage is maintained the opening of the next century will see the ratio reach the enormous number of 1800. TROUBLESOME NEIGHBORS. Oh, could there in this world be found Some little spot of happy ground Where village pleasure might go round Without the village tattling. How doubly b’est that spot would be, Where all might dwell in liberty, Free from the bitter misery Of gossips’ endless prattling. If such a spot were really known, Fair Peace might claim it as her own, And in it she might fix her throne Forever ami forever; There like a queen to reign and live, While every one would soon forgive The little slights they might receive, And be offended never. ’Tis mischief makers that remove Far from our hearts the warmth of love, And lead us all to disapprove W hat gives another pleasure. They seem to take one s part, but when They’ve heard ou. cares, unkindly then They soon retail them all again, Mixed with their poisonous measure. And then they’ve such a cunning w y Of telling ill-meant ta es; they say: “ Don’t mention what I’ve said, I pray,' I would not tell another!” Straight to your neighbor’s house they go, Narrating everything they know, And break the peace of high and low, Wife, husband, friend, and brother. Oh, that the mischief-making crew Were all reduced to one or two, And they were painted red or blue, That every one might know them! Then would our villagers forget To rage and quarrel, fum? and fret, Or fall into an angry pet With things so much below them. For ’tis a sa l, degrading part, To make another’s bosom smart, And plant a dagger in some heart, We ought to love an! cherish. Then let us evermore be found In harmony with all around. W hile friendship, joy, and peace abound, And angry feelings perish. —New York Sun. THE TELEGRAPHER, BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES. It was a gray day in early March. The ground was yet frost-bound; the first bluebird had not whistled its signal call, and yet one felt instinctively that _ the great heart of Mother Nature was stirring underneath its winter coat-of mail. I wa3 dimly conscious of this, even while I buried myself in the frothy pages of the last new novel, trying vainly to beguile the tedium of the long journey, when suddenly the train slacked up, gave a jerking start, and then stopped altogether. “What’s happened ” huskily croaked the fat man behind me, half-rising to his feet. I “Lame! I’ope ithain’t a haccident,” said the woman at my left, who had been noisily comsuming sandwiches and cold tea, out of a nat basket. Some of the passengers sat still, others i'umped up and thrust their heads out of lastiiy-opened windows. Nothing, however, was visible, save a double wall of black-green pines, inclosing the rail road track on either side, and a solitary | little station of unpainted pine boards, 1 with a miniature platform extending in front of it. “Isay, conductor,” I called out, jeer ingly, ‘ “I thought this was an express train 1” The much-badgered official looked helplessly at me. The woman of the sandwiches was pulling at his coat-skirt, and the fat man had resolutely button holed him. “80 it is. sir,” said he. ‘But there’s a freight train wrecked at the unction, three miles al ove, and we’re signaled to wait until the track is c.ear.” “How long will it be?” “Two or three hours, maybe—perhaps less. It's a stone-tram' and a complete breakdown. I don’t think ihe company ought to allow them bothering freights to run so close ahead of us, ” he added, sadly. “But. conductor—” The slamming of the car door an swered me. I got up and stretched my self, took out my cigar-ease, and stepped out on the platform. \e fates! what a lonely spot it was, shut iu by giant pines, whose balsamic breath pervaded the whole air, with the rush of an un seen cataract sounding somewhere close by- I looked around for a minute, Jhen en tered the station, where a pretty young woman sat in the telegraph window. She looked calmly up as I came in. I took off my hat. “> “Good afternoon, sir!” said the tele graph operator. “Have you heard from the junction?" The telegraph operator smiled. And then I perceived, what a pretty dimple she had in the left cheek, and how her dark-blue eyes sparkled under their brown laches. “I have been ‘hearing’ steadily for the last three hours,” said she “I suppose they thought I would be foolish enough to let the express run into them. But they need not have been afraid.” “A bad breakdown, eh:” said I. “Very bad,” answered the telegraph operator. “What prospect is there of our getting on?” “Not much at present.” “We shall be detained some time?” “Until seven o’clock, at the very least,” said the telegraph operator. “The wrecking train from Old Ormiston has only just arrived.” I whistled under my breath; the tele graph operator went on calmly arrang ing her olahks. “Very awkward,” said I. The telegraph operator made no re plv. “What place is this?” I asked, after a pause. “Pine ' alls.” “Indeed?” For 1 remembered now that an old friend of my father’s, one Ma or Meri vale, had a place near Pine Kails. “I’ll walk out there,” said I to my self, “and extend the right hand of fel lowship o him. It may serve to pass the time away.” One of the passengers came in just then to send a telegram. I left the station, asked my way of the freight master, a cross old man in a shaggy gray suit and a fox skin cap, that made him look like the old pictures of Daniel Boone. “Its a right smart step, I allow,” said he; “but it ain’t noways fur. Ye carn’t miss yer way. ef ye keep right ahead.” i aniel Boone wfl|. right. I had scarcely crossed tjie roll ring cataract on a bridge unsafe, before 1 saw of a at least of ahoWfffiatTiad beWfcfine in its day. ‘•Dilapidated” was the only term to apply to it now. The colonnades of the rather preten tious portico were settling to one side ; a part of the fence had been leveled to earth with the last wind; the old stone sun-dial in the centre of the lawn was overgrown with a complete network of wild briers and b ambles; and a range o; greenhouses extending toward the south were all in ruins. 1 raised the rusty knocker with a curi ous premonition that I should find the house shut up and deserted. but it had not yet reached this stage of dissolution. An old woman, in a frilled cap and a clean, checked apron, answered the summons after some delay. Ma or Merivale was at home, she said. Would I please walk into the study. It was a big room, furnished with black-gretu hangings, a carpet worn to threads, and chairs and tables that had the black polish of extreme old age. At the further end a big base-burning stove winked its red eyes at me. A seven-leaved Japan screen shut in a co/y corner, where an elderly gen tleman sat reading at a table heaped high with books, and the next minute I received the warmest of welcomes. “Frank alconer, as I live!” said the Major, with the genial graciousness of your thoroughbred gentleman. “And the image of your father, too! I need not say how pleased I am to welcome you to Aierivale’s Rest. Sit down—sit down! Let me have the pleasure of sending for your baggage at once. I can entertain no more welcome guest than yourself, my dear boy. But at least” when I had explained to him the acci dent which had brought me thither for only a brief season —“you will dine with me?” He rang the bell sharply. “Jennings,” he said to the old woman with the frilled cap, “where is Miss Bar bara? Let her know at once that we have company.” Jennings fingered the hem of her ap.on rather awkwardly. “Miss Barbara ain’t Rome, sir,” said she— “leastwavgMfidt just this-minute.” “Not at home”’ The Major’s thick eyebrows met like a shaggy line across the bridge of his nose. “It seems to me, . ennings, that Miss Barbara spends very little Of her time at home. You can send for her, I suppose?” Jennings shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t rightly know, sir, whether she’s taking her music lesson at Mrs. Sombrely’s, or spending the day at Miss Lennox’s, or —” “That will do, Jennings!” sharply in terrupted the Major. “Let dinner be served at once. Y T ou won’t object, Falconer, to d ning with me—eh? To tell the honest truth, 1 am a sort of King Lear, with only one daughter, and she’s not of the Cordelia type. Ha, ha, ha! I must confess to you that I do not see -much of and yet, when one comes to it, one can hardly ex pect a sprightly young girl to be satisfied ■L,th the monotonous life that I lead. nature of things. I should ■KjLjtfL f-1 you to make her acquaintance fell fP talking about the old timjtovhen he and my father had been collie chums at Yale. We had a very nice little dinner— clear soup, a delicate fish, whose gamey flavor suggested the nearness of some wild woodland stream, a roast fowl, and an apple-tart, powdered with cinnamon and latticed over with bars of crisp pie crust; and to this la or Meiivale added a bottle of very old claret. “It belongs to my palmy days, my boy,” said he. “A relic of the past. I’m not able to buy such now, aid I only bring it out when I have an especial guest like yourself. Eh—what’s that? The whistle of the train?” I jerked my watch out in hot haste. “By Jove, sir,” said I, “you are right ! There is only one train on this road, and it has left me behind! That wreckage bus.ness must have been got over with quicker than they imagined.” “All the better for me.” said the Major. “Y’ou will be my honorable cautive for to-night. I dare say to mor row w T ill be quite time enough for your business, and 1 shall be favored indeed;” Once more he rang the bell for Jen nings. “ et the purple bed-room be prepared, Jennings,” said he, “and a good fire lighted on the hearth. Mr. Falconer re mains with us all night.” “What cannot be cured,” saith the old adage, “must be endured,” and I found myself setting down into a most agreeable state of resignation, as my host got out a line old iDlaid chessboard and a set of ivory chessmen, carved to imitate the Ssltan of Turkey and his subordinates. We were hardly through the first game, however —Major Merivale was no mean opponent —when the door behind him opened and in walked—the tele graph operator! My finger was just poised above the Queen’s Bishop’s pawn. It fell, scatter ing the pieces in hopeless confusion, as I recognized her. She turned very red, but from behind her father’s shoulder she made a gesture to me to keep silence. How I understood it I know not, but I saw plainly in those dark-blue orbs of hers the words: “Do not betray my secret!” Ma or Merivale turned abruptly around. “Why, it’s Barbara.” said he, “home at last! Come, my girl, and let me in troduce to you the son of my dearest friend, Mr. Falconer!” I rose and bowed. Barbara murmured a word or two, and sank into a chair. A most embarrassing stiffness pre vailed, and not until Ma or Merivale went up stairs personally to ascertain that my room was comfortably warm to sleep in, did either one of us “thaw” in the slightest degree. “Lou mustthink this very strange,” said Barbara, lifting the curtain of dark lashes that had hitherto veiled her eyes. “Well—rather so, I must confess.” “Papa don’t know it, and I wouldn’t have him know it for the world.” “Don’t know—’’ i “That lam telegraph operator down at the station,” explained Barbara. “Be tween our old servant woman and me, we have kept him totally in the dark. I think it would break his heart if he dreamed that a descendant of the Meri vales earned a daily salary by daily work. But we are so poor—*o very poor. If the taxes had not been paid, even this old home would have been taken away from us, and papa would not have had where to lay his head. I paid the taxes. 1 look after the butcher and the baker, or we should starve. I learned telegraphy through the assistance of Mr. Lennox, one of our kind neighbors, who was in the plot. His cousin is president of the road, and he gave me the place. I think I dis charge the duties well—at least, I try my best. And uow you know it all. You will keep the harmless secret, will you not?” “With my life!” I answered, betrayed into more vehemence of expression ;han the circumstances would seem to war rant. But Barbara Merivale was so exceed ingly pretty, and the whole thing was so like a leaf out of some old romance. ! I slept well that night at Merivale Rest. But I did not see Barbara the next morning. The Major explained to me, with some displeasure, that his daughter had an engagement with some of the neighbors, that rendered it impossible for her to breakfast with us. “I told her,” he said, “that no en gagement could justify this infringement of the rules of hospitality, but she would have her way. I told you, didn’t I? that I was a modem King Lear, and she is my Goneril and Regan in one. But, at all events, you have promised to come out here in April, and try the fishing. | Don’t forget that, my boy!” And when I weut down to the station to await the train, the telegraph operator sat quietly in her little railed inclosure, a pen-handle held between her losy lips, her eyes intent on the clicking machine in front of her. So busy was she that I had scarcely time to wish her good-by. “I hope you will come again,” she said, wistfully. “Papa enjoys company so much, and he leads such a solitary life!" “I shall certainly come again,” said I, “ifyou wish it, Miss Merivale!” And then the train whistled in the dis tance, the freight master, with the shaggy suit and the foxskin cap, rattled his barrow over the platform, the few passengers made a rush for the door, and my last impression of Pine Falls was a breath of balsamic sweetness and the waving glimmer of biacii-grssa boughs. This happened more than two years ago. I don’t know why I have put it into words, unless because it is one of those idyllic happenings that come to nearly every life in one shape or another. If my sweet wife Barbara were to read it, I wonder if she would recognize her own identity? If my father-in-law, the gracious, genial-hearted Major Merivale, were to come across it, I wonder if he would discover the secret we have so carefully kept from him? I know one thing; I never shall see the sweet face of a telegraph operator at a ionely waysido station again without a quick heart-throb. Barbara says lam a goose. Perhaps she is right. —Saturday Night. Dry-Shod Through the Sen. The storms that too frequently ushei in the wintry season along our coast bring pallor to so many of the faces and fear that is so like despair to so many of the hearts of those whose dear ones go down to the great deep in ships, that whatever alleviates the possible horrors of a wreck under stress of such storm? is an obje t of interest. Nothing has yet been used in the way of rescue quite equal to the present system of relief for the ships dashed against our rocks or stranded on our sand-bars, where the waves can leap aboard and tear thorn to pieces. In our life-sa mg stations a small mortar-gun is used to discharge a ball to wh eh is attached an inch rope, and which .an carry the ro .e some foiu hundred yards. The ball being shot ovei a wreck, the rope of course talis upon it, and the people there draw in by its means a stouter line, and with that aa other, till one end of a big hawser ha? been made fast on fie wreck as the other end is made fast and taut on the shore. By means then of the second rope a light tarmadeof galvanized iron, and capa ble of holding four adult persons or eight children, and of closing so as to be nearly water-tight, is hauied to and fro from the wreck to the shore till all the crew and passengers are in safety. It takes, under such circumstances, just half an hour to get the whole apparatus at works and the car requires about ten minute, for a trip through the wildest surf, aud has been known to take off a couple of hundred people before a ship went to pieces. The whole thing is of peculiar interest to women, because it carries them and their children to safety when probably nothing else could, and that, too, sometimes without wetting a foot or even allowing them to get damp.— Bazar. A Dynamite Expert’s Black Cat. Captain Zalinski, the perfector of one of the greatest of modern inventions, the dynamite gun, has a pet in the shape of a black cat which never leaves Fort Lafayette. Until I went down to the fort to witness the last experiments made with this gun the feline bad no name and at my suggestion he was christened “Dynamite.” Dynamite is a soldier, a gunner and a fisherman, and knows more about pneu matic pressure than any one iu or about Fort Lafayette, save Captain Zalinski. When the cat is hungry it goes to the water’s edge, sits on a flat stone and waits patiently for prey in the shape of fish, great or small. With the left paw carefully poised Dynamite watches until some member of the finny tribe swims close to the stone and then a quick motion of the paw and a dexterous twitch of that same member lands the fish high and dry on the land. On one occasion Dynamite happened l to fix his claws (irmly in the back of a large blue ish, and the result was a cold and briny bath, which his catshipdid not relish. He likes noise and follows j Captain Zalinski to his gun whenever a test is to be made, and sits down purring until after the monster of destruction has hurled a projectile loaded with dynamite a mile or more away, aud if an explosion follows Dynamite announces his pleasure with a self satisfied yowl suggestive of a certain feeling of enjoyment over the success of the experiment. —Brooklyn Citizen. A WEDDING IN JAPAN, THE GRACEFUL AND STATFLY ORI ENTAL NUPTIAL CEREMONY. An Odd Festival—Rich Habiliments —The Husband Assumes the Wife’s Name. Once upon a time, writes Eva Best in the Detroit Free Preen, a card came to me bearing these words: ; Kito Halimo and Lady ; Request your presence at the marriage : ; of their daughter '. ; mino : 5 Hunyadi Simotsuke. : Then followed date and place. Of course I weut. There was a sound of soft music as I entered the place, where I found many other Americ ans. We had not to wait long, for soon there was a gentle commotion that made itself mani fest behind a large screen placed in front of a doorway, and then the bridal party entered. First came the bride’s parents —and I was—being an Amer.can lady—some what surprised to see Mino’s papa enter first. He came slowly forward, keeping time to the stately march with graceful wavings of his fan to and fro. In his wake followed Mino’ maternal relative— as tall as her lord and, little less dark and homely. These two approached the oriental drugget allotted the bridal pair, and after turning about face, sank in some mysterious, gra eful way upon the rug to the right of the expected groom. Then came the bridegroom’s father and mother—he with downcast eyes, she with an enormous bow between her shoulder blades—of course, there were other adjuncts—but one noticed these two peculiarities. They marched slowly and in stately, serious gait to the left side of where the bridal party were to sit upon the floor, and after much “salaaming” and astonishing low bows they, too, sank as easily back upon their reserved rug. Then came the “priestess,” or “wedding maid,” followed by the parties of the first part —as slowly, as solemnly, as joyless as the others. Mino wore a white robe and a thin veil which allowed her plain dark features to be easily seen, while Huuyadi had donned a magnificent “pjama” and a sort of skull cap. They advanced in Indian file, the priestess leading, to where the reverend parents of Mino sat, gently swaying their indigenous fans, and sinking to their knees, bride and bridegroom made an obeisance by getting upon their all fours and beading their bodies until their foreheads almost touched the floor. At this the bride’s parents also bowed above the heads of the prostrate pair, which ceremony was performed in turn before the groom’s parents. The priest ess, or “best lady”—it seems they have no “best man”—took her place behind the bridal couple and the bridesmaids entered. This was really a pretty sight. Three upon each side, two entering at a time, “salaaming” with graceful ease, touching fan tips as they bent their lithe bodies almost double. After de liberate and deep obesiances to each couple in turn, two by two, they sank slowly upon their “heels," then gradu ally, gracefully took their positions on each side of the respective parents. Then came forward the priestess with a tiny moresque table, which she set amongst the party, after which she brought three cups and three saucers and a tiny teapot and poured the steam ing tea from it into the three cups she placed upon a small salver, She offered the three to the groom and the bride’s parents first, which they drank “in con cert" with much pomp and ceremony. Then the bride and groom’s parents had their bitter share meted out to them and in their turns the bride’s maids. Fach looked critically into her cup. raised it —all three in exact unison—quaffed it with, it seemed to me, an extravagant throw.ng back of marvelously coiffured heads, and ended with another searching glattco into the cup. Then followed the eating of rice alls, which, at a given signal, the company thrust hastily iDto their mouths and ate ravenously indeed. I feared oue dark-eyed damsel would choke upon the boiUd grain. By this time, we, the invited guests, were provded with cups of sugarless tea, which we drank w.th as seemly countenances as we could command, and were told that each guest was to take his dainty cup and saucer home with him— or her—as a remembrance of this odd festival. , After all were served the priestess pre sented a two spouted teapot to bride and froom, from which spouts each in turn rank. This was the real solemnization of the marriage; audits meaning, that they were to share the sweet and bitter of life together, was quite apparent— though I doubt that the sweet, save in one’s imagination—were there. Then the wedding party, after much more salaamiug and bending of closely wrapped bodies, tiled out in silent pro cess on to go to the bridegroom’s house —a ceremony most important. I was told that after that the young husband went home with his Miuo to live, and that he not only took the bride’s name instead of her taking his, but adopted also the business and vocation cf his father-in-law. Surely the Japanese are our antipodes in every way—think of a young husband buying a coffin for himself as an article of furniture the very first thing! Aftera year or so the young folks move into a house of their own—co lin and all; and there with their simple houskeeping ef fects and their ghastly “memento mori” goto work at home—making for them selves. But the sight of that odd little train —the prodigious bows -the rich habili ments—the waving funs, the graceful figures will be a picture I shall gladly hang on the walls of memory’s lumber room. Razors Affected By Electricity. The statement recently made by a barber of Chicago—viz.: that electricity affects the edge of razors—seems to be concurred in Jay a number of tonsorial professionals. A Kansas City barber thinks that “the electrical currents with which the atmosphere is filled, together with the personal magnetism of the per son shaved, are the causes of the tem porary loss of edge in many razors. France owns five of the islaads of the West Indies, a colony in South America, and her citizens have for sevetal years past been building a ship canal across Central America. AUNT MARTHA’S SPINNING WH£EL. With spider-webbing tattered In travesties of lace, Mid treasures years have scattered— Onctf miracles of grace— Imploring Time to spare it With rnsty tongue of steel, Behold it in the garret— Aunt Martha’s spinning-wheel. With slow and pensive fingers I wipe tne webs away, While loving Fancy lingers To paint an olden day. When youth and beauty crowned it What gay songs used to peal 1 Now crickets wail around it— Aunt Martha’s spinning-wheeL I softly touch the treadle; It gives a plaiutive squeak; It begs me not to meddle, In murmurs sad and meek. Alas! the feet that litbely Once twinkled through the reel, No more shall pat it blithely— Aunt Martha's spinning-wheel. How off its noisy turning Hath served a lover’s need, And kept Ago from discerning What only Youth should heedl ’Twould drown both vows and kisses That lovers love to steal; A dear old treasure this is— Aunt Martha’s spinning-wheel. For fear of house adorner In search of bric-a-brac, Far in the garret corner With sighs I put it back; And there just as I found it, I leave for wo or weal With ghosts to glide around it Aunt M irtha’s spinning-wheel. —Samuel Min turn Peck, in Independent. HUMOR OF THE DAY. A cold deal—The ice trust. Current literature—The theory of the tides. A pig is well supplied with brains; in fact, he has a hog’s head of them. Isaac Walton did not spoil the child —at least he didn’t spare the rod. The most melancholy spectacle in the world is a cold paucake.— Siftings. There are few brass bands who can play as many airs as the drum major puts on. ' 'lhe mirror, unlike many of its adher ents, doesn’t force its reflections upon us.— Life. Many people are still keeping diaries for 1889, but they are stationers. — New York News. A pupil in a boys’ school lately defined numeration as “the process of multiply ing one number together.” He—“ Why can t you love me?” She —“Because I hear some other girl re fused you.” — New Yor* Sun. When Bismarck grasps Samoa’s isle, And from her rulers trees her, ’Tis that he may in great south seas Be called the Great South Seizor. Yankee Blade. Now we know why a Jap wears such a pained look on his face. The Japanese cucumber is over three feet long.— New Y rk Journal. Malicious. “Tell me, is your wife curious?” “She? I. really believe she came into the world only out of pure curiosity.”— FUegende Blaetter. Stranger (in the court room) —“What time have you got, please?” Prisoner (at counsel’s table —“I can tell you better after the tiial.”— Jeweler's Weekly. He’d studied till wisdom Had soaked him clear through. Yet he never cou'd learn W hen his board bill was due. \jeichan l Traveler. Mother (to seven-year-old daughter)— “( arrie.i what makes you look so sad?” Carrie—“l'm thinking what a bother that little brother of mine will be to me about ten years from now, when I enter society and have a beau.”— Siftings. Descriptions often ten amiss The jester shows a wordy sport, For palest man.are toinetimes flush, The tallest char, is often short. - r ' — 'Sen hunt Traveler. Teacher--“ What does Condillac say about brutes in the scale of beings" Seminary Girl—“He says a brute is an imperfect man.” Teacher —“And what is mans" Seminary Girl—“ Man! Oh, man’s a perfect brute!”— Spotted Cayuse. Polite ( lerk (showing goods)—“Here is something I would like to call your attention to, lady. It’s the very latest thing out.” Mrs. Rounder (absently) —“lf there’s anything out later than my husband I’ll take it, if only for a curiosity.” We are never weary of reading a good epitaph—one which indicates the work of a lifetime in a few short, crisp words. Here is one, for instance, which needs no explanation. It was inscribed on a tomb of a cannibal: “He loved his fellow men I” Miss Cazenove —“Who is it, Parker?” The New Man—“lt’s that Lor-rd Seven rich, me leddy.”—Misses Cazenove (breathlessly) —“Show him up!” The New Man —“All th’ daily papers did that this mor-rnin’, savin’ yure presence, but Ol’ll do it again, if ye say so.”— Time. Dealer (to clerk) —“What did that young lady want, James?" Clerk—. “She asked for anatomical brussels car pets, and I told her we hadn’t such a thing.” Dealer—“ Great Scott, James, that young lady is from Boston! She wanted body brussels, and we’ve |got an overstock of ’em.” Even fowls will ape humanity; two roosters met and passed The time of day, as sadly as if each breath were their last; Each was too fat to crow; but said “As sure as lam born, All I can show for my year’s werk is a good crop of corn.’’ —Siftings “And so,” said ho, bitterly, when he realized that she had rejected him, “and so you have been liirting heartlessly with me all the while. Well, thank Heaven, I have found you out at last ” “Yes,” she replied, “you have; and, what la more, I think you will always find me out hereafter when you call.” The first chapter in a novel has the following: “And so the fair girl con tinued to sit on the sand, gazing upon the briny deep, on whose hea’ ing bosom the tall ships went merrily by, freighted —ah; who can tell with how much of joy and sorrow, and pine lumber and emigrants, and hopes and salt fish?”— Mercury .