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Bate Unity Tines. TRENTON, GEORGIA. Russia is ■willing to spend $90,000,000 *n a new navy. Geologically and mineralogicalty, Nic aragua is said to be the richest spot in America. The project of neutralizing the banks Df Newfoundland during the fishing sea ion is exciting public interest. It is said that unless the present con ditions are changed the complete de struction of the Adirondacks is inevita ble. Fourteen ex-Senators are said to in habit the Kansas Penitentiary, though only one of them ever conducted legisla tive business in the interest of that State. Australia has just made to a projected railroad a grant of 16,000,000 acres, or 20,000 acres a mile. The grant to the Pacific railroads amounted to about 6400 acres a mile. The Dakotas plume themselves, accord ing to the Commercial Advertiser , upon artesian wells of such force and number as to make manufacturers of all sorts well within their possibilities. Dr. Chaille,the well-known statistician. Btates that the average life of woman is longer than that of man, and in most parts of the United States woman’s ex pectation of life is greater. There are, it is said, five men in America worth $50,000,000 each, fifty worth $10,000,000 each, 100 worth $5,- 000,000, 200 worth $3,000,000, 500 worth $1,000,000 and 1000 worth $500,- 000 each. The Atlanta Constitution believes that Spain holds on to Cuba as a matter of national pride. The island has proved an expensive possession. In the insur rection from IS6B to 1878 20,000 lives were lost, and the total cost to Spain was about $700,000,000. “Life is a delicate possession, after all,” concludes the Detroit Free Press. “A Michigan child was recently fatally injured by falling upon a lead pencil, and last week an English actress was killed by the accidental puncture of liei neck with a knitting needle.” Miss Rose Porter, the well-known writei of religious books, is a most remarkable woman. Although an invalid, and forced to dictate from her bed, she has already written some fifteen books, all of which have had extensive circulation. She lives in a pretty brick house in New- Haven, Conn., and is much thought of in that city- _____ The Albuquerque Democrat says: “New Mexico covers a vast lake, and as wells are being sunk in different parts of the Territory this fact is being assured. A well sunk at Gallup has penetrated a body of water sixty feet in depth, aud wherever a hole is sunk to the water it is found to exist in inexhaustible quanti ties.” The wide-embracing arms of civiliza tion are rapidly stretching out to take iu the whole world. One of the latest nota ble illustrations of this is the announce ment made the other day that a cable will soon be laid from Bermuda to Halifax. In a short time, therefore, one can no longer get out of the world, so to say, by making a voyage to the Bermudas. lii a recent talk with a delegation of clergymen and others who called upon him to urge a more Christian policy in dealing with the Indians, General Harrison said emphatically that he should do his best in the direction named. He added, how ever, that “the Indians with whom he must be most concerned at present were not on the frontier, but here in Washing ton. ” It is generally predicted that Oklahoma will be settled up rapid ity. The Oklahoma Valley is one of the finest in the United States, with an abund ance of timber and an altitude of 1600 feet above the sea. If any cattlemen are ill advised enough to remain in the Territory, observes the New York Tribune , they may expect short shrift from the boomers, who will have many old scores to settle. The San Francisco Chronicle says: The Chinese Mandarins who have had charge of the repairs to the banks of the Yellow River could give Caucasian boodlers points in stealing public money under the guise of doing State work. The notori ous California brush dam frauds are en tirely eclipsed by the Chinese official, who coolly built an embankment of millet stalk*, and dirt on top of the ice which formed on the Yellow* River, and then declared that the great breach was satis factorily closed. HER LIKENESS, Her eyes are bright as bright can be, Like sun-rays on a summer day I Her hair is like a sunset crown O’er fields of wheat just turning brown, Anri in her lips the mantling blood Is like a ripe pomegranate bud. Her heart is true as true can be, Like some stanch (thk beside the sea, Anri her small hands are pearl and pink, Like peach-blooms by a river’s brink! Her voice is like a gentle breeze Borne through the languid laurel-trees. But, ah! her soul that few may know, Is strong as fire and pure as snow! William H. Hayne, in lAppincott. HOW EPH GOT EVEN. BY HORACE TOWNSEND. “Where are you going, Ella?” asked Judge Lawton, and then, without wait ing for an answer, he went on in a grumbling tone: ‘‘l suppose you’re going to take something to that lazy vagabond Eph’s wife. Well, go if you want to, but mark me, Ella, you’ll be agreeing with me before long, that the more you do for people like that, the more they will impose upon your good nature.” The Judge, having made his little speech with all the promposity of manner which was a part of himself, turned on his heel with much deliberation, and nibbing his fat white hands together, as though to wash them free from all parti cipation in his daughter Ella’s deed of charity, marched into his study, and closed the door with a bang. Mr. Lawton, who was generally called Judge by his neighbors, because he was not only the richest, but the most digni fied man in the little Long Island village of Shoreport, was a widower, with but one child, Ella, who birth had cost her mother her life, and who was a fair haired, blue-eyed child of about fifteen. Until she was ten years old she was known as one of the most thorough tom boys the neighborhood possessed. There was not a horse on the place on whose back she had not tasted the forbidden pleasure of a bare-backed ride, and there was scarcely a tree in the woods at the rear of the house she had not climbed, to the destruction of frocks and the terror of her old nurse. Nothing, therefore, could well have been more distressing to a girl of her disposition than to be debarred entirely from exercise. And yet that is what be fell her some five years before the time of which I write. Swinging one day on a lower limb of the old gnarled pear tree which over shadowed the orchard fence, the branch, already decayed, gave way under the vi brations, and Ella fell heavily to the ground. At first she thought nothing of it, but day by day the aching in her back con tinued, and grew worse, until at length her father, noticing the pain she evident ly suffered, sent for old Dr. Hart. The doctor made a careful examina tion, softly whistling to himself as he did so, according to his habit. “Lassie,” he said, “you must lie down and not move for a long, long while if you want to get well.” And the long while proved to be months and months. At first the girl rebelled at the confine ment, and many were the peevish excla mations which escaped her. Then a change crept over her, and the irritabil ity by degrees departed, to be succeeded by a sweetness and gentleness which caused her to be still more beloved by the household. When at length she could sit up, and the good old doctor, holding her wasted little hand in his own wrinkled paw, which still had a touch as tender as a woman’s, told her the bitter truth, she received it without a tear or a murmur. “Ella,” said the doctor, “you’ll bp able to use your arms, and you’ll soon feel as strong and well as you ever were, but I fear me, lassie, that you’ll never walk again.” And so it was. A cleverly-constructed chair was procured for her benefit, and in this she was wheeled about the village by faithful old Isaac, who had been in the Judge’s employ since he was a lad. A year or two later her father bought her a little phaeton, with a pair of well matched dainty ponies, and iu this she was able to drive herself about without assistance, till there was not a road for miles around that had not echoed under the beat of the pokes’ hoofs. But her pleasures were not all selfish, She delighted in looking after the needs of her poorer neighbors, and had brought sunshine and hope into many a dark and cheerless cottage in Shoreport. It was a fine spring day when her futher imparted to her the valuable por tion of hifi stooa of worldly wisdom I have quoted, and SJla was sitting in her wheeled chair in the great square hall of the old-fashioned house which for gener ations had belonged to the Lawtou fam ily. On her lap lay a little covered basket, from beneath the lid of which peeped out the white folds of a spotless napkiu. As her father spoke, she merely smiled, and turning to old Isaac, said: “Don’t believe papa when he talks like that, Isaac, lie doesn’t mean a word of it. Now, take me down to Eph’s cottage, for I am afraid that poor wife of his is laid up again, and needs what I have here for her.” There was no doubt but that Eph was a sad rascal, and though, as Ella re marked, her father did not mean all he said, for, with all his pomposity, the Judge was generous, that was not a little truth in it so far as Eph was concerned. Some five or six years before, a colored man and his wife had tramped into the village, covered with dust and carrying their worldly possessions in an old tat tered valise, and rented an old tumble down cottage. Eph was an* idle, good natured, worthless vagabond; and Eph’s wife was a hard-working, careful and saving woman. Mrs. Eph (if the couple had another name no one ever used it) took in washing, went out to help in housework, and in other ways made enough to support herself and her hus band, who passed his time fishing from the rickerty old pier, shooting stray quail or duck with a ru.<fty old gun he had picked up, hugging the stove in the gen eral store of the village. And yet Eph was a favorite, for though he would not stick steady to any employment, he was always ready to do any sman odd job, and was perfectly satisfied with a ‘ ‘Thank ye, Eph,” for paymdht. At last one winter his wife fell sick, and a hacking cough, the result of ex posure, threatened to turn into consump tion. Eph tended her as carefully as a trained nurse, but the slender stock of savings soon went, and the couple would have been hard put to it, had it not been for the kindness of the Judge’s little daughter. Summer came and the sick woman seemed to revive, and in spite of the doctor’s orders, insisted on taking up work again, Vhile Eph, who during her illness had actually earned some money, relapsed into his old shiftless ways. He was passing the Judge’s house in the dusk of a summer evening, on his return from a day’s fishing, and lie paused, meditat ing whether no not he should slip up to the kitchen and leave a string of fish with his “best respect fo’ Miss Ella,” when he found himself violently run into by the Judge himself. “What are you doing around here, you skulking vagabond?” roared Judge, whose temper was none of the best, aud w r hose pet corn Eph had un wittingly trodden on in his effort to re cover his disturbed balance. ‘ ‘Looking round for what you can steal, eh?” “I begs yer pardon, Jedge,” said Eph, with not a little dignity. “But I ain’t a skulkin’, and I ain’t never stole nuffin’ in my life. No, sah. I may be brack, but I’se hones’, I es.” And he strode indig nantly off, leaving the Judge still more enraged from the consciousness that he had been in the wrong. But the Judge was obstinate, and when he had once committed himself to a statement, he never changed his mind, ‘ ‘l’ll be bound that was just what he was after,”*he muttered to himself, as he entered the house. That night the Judge’s house was broken into and articles of value, in cluding some trinkets of Ella’s, were j taken.° When one of the scared servants '■ brought the news to the Judge, the old gentleman said not a word, but with a grim smile as much as to say “I knew it, I told you so,” he dressed, put on his hat and stumped down the village street to Eph’s cottage. Early as it was, he found Mrs. Eph already bending over the'wash tub.” “Mornin’,” said the Judge, abruptly. “Fo’ grashus sake, ef it ain’t Jedge Lawton,” stammered the astonished Mrs. Eph. “Was your husband home all last night?” continued the Judge. “Lemme see,” pondered Mrs. Eph. “W’y, no, Jedge, not orl night. He jes’ slipped out to look a’ter some of dem ar’ fishin’ lines o’ his’n, Dat’s wheer he’s gone jes’ now, Jedge.” ‘ ‘Thank you, my good women; that’s all I wanted to know,” said the Judge, bis smile of sati|***tir>n deepenirur. and. he was striding fPffffhe street again, leav ing Mrs. Eph staring open-mouthed after him. When Eph came home to his dinner he founcßAlat Raikeyghe constable, sitting in *ldug compassionately at tin* jeeping Mrs. Eph, and before the unforfcsuate Eph knew where he was, he was arrested by Mat on a warrant sworn out by Judge Lawton, and an hour later was on his way to the jail of the county town, vainly protesting his innocence, For two months Eph lay there await ing trial, and it is not unlikely that he would have been sent to prison, so set in his conviction was the Judge that he had in Eph secured the burglar. Luckily for Eph, the discovery of some of Ella’s jewelry in a New York pawn broker’s shop led to the arrest and sub sequent confession of two tramps, who had found the Judge’s parlor window conveniently open, and had hurriedly helped themselves to all of value they could carry off without attracting notice, Eph was released, of course, but he came out of jail a changed man. Not only did his unjust arrest, and the con sequent degradation of being led through the street of Shoreport handcuffed, weigh upon him, but his wife had died while he was in prison, and nothing could con vince him that his misfortune was not the cause of her death. His former light-hearted recklessness was sucoeeded by a moody brooding over his real and fancied wrongs. Even when the gentle Ella came to visit him, hi turned on her like an enraged lion. “Your fader say I done stole his old tings, we’en I ain’t ben nowhar nigh your house, Miss Ella. He shet me up in jail, an’ he killed my ole woman. He’s rich, and I’se po’. He’s w’ite, an’ I’se brack, but sho’s you bawn, Mis’ Ella, I’se got to git eben wif him. I’se got to git eben, suah!” And he turned his head away, and refused to speak another word. This was all the more mortifying to poor Miss Ella, as she had pleaded Eph’s cause again and again to her father. “I’m sure it was not Eph, papa,” she said. “For one thing, I’m sure Eph would never have taken my favorite silver bracelet, even if he had been wicked enough to steal the other things.’’ “Ah, you’re only a girl, my dear,” was the only answer she got; but after all the girl was right, and the Judge was wrong. The winter was about over, and Eph, who had a bard time to get along, and who had been sinking lower and lower, was walking along the high road on his way to Farmer Beilows’s, The farmer had promised him a sack of potatoes in return for various small ser vices rendered, and Eph was going to get them. He was slouching moodily along, as was his custom nowadays, when the sound of wheels behind him made him draw aside to let the vehicle have the mid dle of the road. As it passed, he looked up and saw that it was Ella, her pale cheeks aglow in the frosty air, securely bundled up in furs in her little phaeton, and speed ing her ponies to their utmost. She waved her whip, and nodded to Eph as she passed, but he, his whole nature turned to gall, took no notice of the friendly saluta tion. He gazed after her, though, with an ugly look on his once good-humored face, and muttered to himself: “What’s dat de pahson done tole me wunst. ‘Pride goes befo’ a fall!’ Ya-as, Mis’Ella, pride he goes befo’ a fall,” and he plodded on. A couple of hours later Eph was re turning along the same road, his sack of potatoes slung over his shoulder. He seemed in somewhat better spirits, though the chance encounter with the daughter of his enemy was still uppermost in his thoughts. He hummed the air of an old plaintive plantation song as he slouched along, but he had set words of his own to the tune, and they ran some thing like this: “ ’Possum climb up a mighty tall tree, En larf w’en he hear de nigg&h call; But he shets his mouf w’en de tree’s cut down. Hit’s de pride dat goes befo’ his fall.” He was still humming the last line for about the twentieth time as he drew near a turn in the road, on the other side of which a branch of the local railroad line ran across the road and made a surface crossing. The shrill whistle of an ap proaching locomotive drowned the last words of his song, when it was succeeded by a piercing scream and a cry for help, several times repeated. Eph threw down his bag of potatoes, and hurriedly sham bled forward. For a moment the horizontal rays of the rapidly declining sun dazzled his eyes, and he only saw a black mass stand ing across the railroad track. Another instant, and he was abreast of it, aud in a flash the situation was clear to even his dull intellect. One of the wheels of Ella’s phaeton had in some way got wedged fast between the ends of two rails which, contracted by the extreme cold, left an open space, which had acted as a trap for the narrow tire. She could neither advance nor recede, aud her crippled condition rendered her helpless and unable to stir. She gave an implor ing glance at Eph, who remained, how ever, motionless. The memory of his wfongs, his wife's death, his lingering months in jail, his wrecked reputation, the sneers of his neighbors at the “jail bird,” surged in his brain. Another whistle from the locomotive, and again Ella looked at him imploringly. They could see the engine like a huge, hungry Minatour rushing forward as if eager to seize his prey, the engineer with one arm across his eyes as though to shut out the tragedy he knew was com ing, the other bearing hard on the re versing lever. And in a fraction of a second Eph’s thoughts changed. He re membered the girl’s kindness to his wife, her gentleness to himself, the kindly ad vice she used to give him, her merry laugh when he told some quaint negro legend of “Brer Rabbit,” and his com panions, and he hesitated no longer, though already, for his own sake, he had waited too long. A leap, a roar and a whirr from the passing train—no one ever knew how it was done, but as the rattling cars sped by, Ella was lying shaken but unhurt on one side of the track, the the ponies were kicking and plunging in the ditch, while across the road lay a huddled motionless heap of shattered humanity. The train had slowed up, and careful hands raised Ella, and a kindly stranger was bathing her forehead. As she looked round vaguely, she saw a circle of train hands and curious passengers round s prostrate figure on the other side of the road, and heard the whispered remark on the still, frosty air: “He’s alive, but dying fast.” “Take me there,” she gasped; and when they remonstrated, an imperious wave of the hand secured the fulfillment of her request. As they laid the crippled girl on the hard road by the dying Eph, he seemed to feel her presence, and slowly opened his eyes, while a faint smile parted his gray lips. “I’se done ax your pardon, Miss Ella,” ' he feebly murmured. “Oh, Eph, ask my pardon? Why, you saved my life, dear Eph.” “Yes’m. But I wuz proud, and dom take no notice w’en you said ‘good after noon,’ Miss Ella. I’se been proud, but —” and the voice grew fainter and faintei I’se had my fall.” The big eyes closed, and in his fall he had risen. So Eph got even after all.— Once A Week. Whittled a Wooden Typewriter. A newspaper receives many curious letters in the course of the year. Per haps one of the most extraordinary let ters ever sent to the Detroit Free Brest came the other day from Ingersoll, Mo- Lean County, Dakota. It is a type-writ ten letter. The type used is smaller than that of any of the existing commer cial typewriters, but is wonderfully clear and distinct. The writer of the letter is Lewis O. Fjterli. Mr. Fjserli must have an extraordinary amount of perseverance and ingenuity. He has mastered the English language so that he writes flu ently and well in it. When the Free Press announced that it would give S3OOO in prize? for stories, and stated that type written MS, would be preferred, Mr. Fjserli thought he would compete. Not having a typewriter he didn’t growl about the proviso but got out his jack knife and actually made a wooden type writer, using book type to print the let ters. The result shows better work than that made by any typewriter at present in the market. The Helm Wind. During recent years some scientific at tention has been given to the meteoro logical phenomenon known as the Helm wind, which occurs only on the Cross Fell range of mountains in England. This range is 2900 feet high, and drops off abruptly to the west from 1000 to 1500 feet in a mile and a half. With an easterly wind, a cloud forms on the sum mit of the range, while parallel with it at a distance of two or three miles a slender roll of dark cloud—called the Helm bar —appears in mid-air. A cold wind blows down the sides of the Fell until nearly under the bar, when it suddenly ceases. The Helm wind proves to be less rare than has been supposed, thoba ; hav ing been observed 41 times in 1885, 03 in 1886 and 19 in 1887.— Trenton (N. J.) American. HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS. HOW TO RENOVATE BLACK CASHMERE. Boil a handful of tea or peppermint leaves if you design to renovate black ;ashmere in a pot of hot water, strain, ind in the decoction wash the cashmere. When clean, rinse thoroughly, wring and wrap in white muslin until nearly dry, which should be in about twenty-four hours; iron on the wrong side while damp.— Detroit Free Press. HOT WATER. Applied to a bruise, hot water will allay pain and prevent discoloration. It has superseded medical “eye-waters” in the treatment of inflamed and aching eyes. An American author, whose excellent eye light was wonderful, when one consid ered her age and the immense amount of literary labor she performed, attributed it mainly to the custom of bathing her eyes freely in water as hot as could be borne, night and morning, a habit con tinued for many years. For the bath, hot water is incomparably better than cold, which contracts the pores and thus roughens the skin. Florence Nightingale says: ‘ ‘ One can cleanse the whole body more thoroughly with a quart of hot water that with a tubful of cold.”— Sunshine. TO PAPER LIMED WALLS. The lime-washed wall is brushed ovei with a strong solution of alum, aftei which the following preparation is used, viz.: Eighteen pounds of finely powdered white bole, a kind of clay to be procured at the paint or drug stores, is softened with water, the surplus water being poured off; one and a half pounds ol powdered glue are boiled with one gallon of water until dissolved, and this is mixed with the bole aud two pounds of calcined gypsum; the mixture is forced through a hair sieve by means of a stiff brush, and is then diluted with hot w r ater to the consistency of a thin cream. This is laid on the wall, and when it has dried the paper is put on in the usual wfty. A good way to make the paper adhere still more firmly is to first put on the news papers and brush the outer surface well with the paste as the papers are laid on; the wall paper then adheres closely. Some alum should be dissolved in the paste to prevent the too common mold which attacks the paste. — New York Times. CURRANTS ARE SMALL GRAPES. A frequent error among those interested In cookery is to suppose that the imported articles called currants, used in fruit cakes, mince pies, plum puddings, buns, and the like, are a fruit resembling our own black or red currants dried. In reality these dried fruits which we call currants are just as much raisins as any thing that is offered under that specific name, being only a small dried grape, although of exceedingly small variety, each grape no bigger than a common pea, and each bunch but two or three inches long. These little grape bunches are picked and dried in the sun, and are so full of saccharine matte, that the exuding sugar crystallizes them into a compact form of sufficient hardiness to require considerable strength to open the mass and prepare the fruit for packing, they being then a second tinfe compressed, this time by means of treading with the feet, which process perhaps account for a g#od deal of the dirt and gravel usually to be found packed with them. The grapes grow all through the islands and adjacent regions of the Grecian Archi pelago, and being exported originally from Corinth, they were called corinths, which word was gradually corrupted in to currants, till the primitive plant and its fruit were forgotten in the remem brance of the little round berry of oui own gardens, which might be dried from now till doomsday without developing sugar to melt them together as we find the Zante currants melted. Harper'i Bazar. RECIPES. Cabbage Cold. —Chop cabbage; season with little salt and vinegar. Sweeten with rich cream and turn over cabbage just before serving. Boiled Tongue.— Let it stand in water over night, and in the morning wash out the salt, which is put into the crevices to preserve it. Boil in plenty of water till tender. Remove the skin while hot, and when the tongue is served gar nish it with parsley. Asparagus. —Cut the heads about five inches Jong; let it stand in cold water half an hour, then tie in bundles; put the*i into boiling water, with salt to taste* and boil twenty minutes. Take them, from the water, drain, remove the string and serve on slices of toast. Beefsteak and Onions.— Cut the steak three-quarters of an inch thick and fry in hot butter, and when nicely brown remove from the frying-pan and keep in a hot dish before the fire; have in readi ness a plateful of sliced onions seasoned with pepper and salt, put them into the pan and cover to keep in the steam; when soft and brown pour over the steak and serve immediately. Spinach.— Pick over carefully, remove the yellow leaves and cut off the ends of the stalks. Wash in four or five waters, then lay in a colander to drain. Put it into a saucepan of boiling water, with a tablespoonful of salt. When it has boiled three minutes strain the water off and fill up again with boiling water. Keep it boiling till tender, which will be in about ten minutes; squeeze it dry, lay it on a dish and cut in squares. Roast Lamb.— Procure a quarter ol lamb, trim and roast in hot oven so as to be cooked through and nicely browned all around; make a gravy from the drip pings in the pan, pour this gravy ovei the lamb. Chop one large bunch ol green mint very fine and mix with one pint of vinegar and three-quarters of a peuud of pulverized sugar, stir until thoroughly mixed, and serve. This sauce can also be boiled and cooled again to make a stronger mint flavor. Wash off the contents of two cans of French peas, put in a saucepan with a piece of butter, salt and pepper, toss over a fire to be come thoroughly hot, and serve. THE OLD VANE, Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak I Tho’ skies be blue or gray, Here, from my perch, a word I speak To all who glance my way. Flushed by the morning’s earliest lights Before the town’s astir, Kissed by the starry beams of night With every wind I whir. Ever a message true I speak, Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-arty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak! The farmer heeds me well; Over the fields, his hay to seek, He hies, when rain I tell. Slave of the breeze; yet tyrant I To those who watch below; Joy or regret, a smile or sigh, Uncaring, I bestow. Ever a message true I speak, Creak-a-ty-creak ? Creak-a-ty creak! Creak-a-ty-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak I I watch the snow-elves weave; Keen arrows of the rain so bleak, Sun lances I receive. All’s one to me; my task I do, Untiring, year by year; A lesson may this be to you Whose glances seek we here! Ever a message true I speak, Creak-a-ry-creak! Creak-a-ty-creak! —Oeorge Cooper , in Independent . HUMOR OF THE DAY. Dressed hens look chic. Late habits—Night gowns. A head gardener—The barber. Court plasters—Awards for damages. , Words of wait—“ Bring that bill next week.” - - Waiter’s epitaph—He couldn’t wait any longer, so he went. Better to be a loan than in bad com pany was not written of our umbrellas.— Life. Even the tiger is not without affection. He is very much attached to his paw and maw. Girls who use powder don’t go off any quicker than those who don’t. —Boston Courier. The homely girl is seldom mentioned, and the pretty one is also seldom men shun’d. The railway sandwich is an instance where they never succeed in making both ends meat. Even the most unemotional man can’t contain himself when he goes to sea.— Terre Haute Express. A Stray Thought.—De Few—“l have an idea.” Van Riper—“ Can’t you find the owner.”— Munsey's Weekly. The press feeder sooner or later finds that the press is intemperate. It often takes five fingers.—New York Neics. Tommy—“ What did your mother do for your cut finger?” Little Johnnie— “ Licked me for cutting it.”— Epoch. Lobsters and babies are alike in one re spect. They both turn red when they get into hot water.— Burlington Free Press. Artist-'-“What do you say to my new picture?” Critic— 1 ‘I am not going to say anything to it unless it says something to me.” “You can’t do anything without money, my boy.” “Oh, yes you can.” “I’d like to know what?” “Get in debt.”— Statesman. It is an indication that peppery times are near when the salts are mustered for action on board of a man-of-war.— Boston Courier. A long-winded artillery captain had his pocket picked in Denver recently, and his companions speak of him ns “another rifled bore.” The highest office in the gift of the President is that of Postmaster at Mineral Point, Col. It is 12,000 feet above the sea level.— Norristown Herald. The pretty young misses at church fairs are continually laying themselves liable so arrest on the charge of robbing the males.— Rochester Post-Express. Though a maiden’s voice be squeaky, Yet it cannot be disowned, That the dollars of her daddy Make it Very silver toned. —Detroit Free Press. A Born Grumbler.—“l am the un luckiest man living. Here I find a piece of money, and it is only a nickle. If iny one else had found it, it would have been a quarter.” She—“lsn’t Miss Ambler a perfect daisy?” Mr. Jonathan Trump—“ Yes, they are all daisies, but after awhile they lose their petals in the game of ‘love me, love me not.’ ” — Life. “It is the partings in this world that give us pain,” sadly sings a poet. It is the meetings too. If you don’t believe this, ask the man who has a note to meet. —Boston Courier. The old-time rushlight was even dim mer than parlor gas. Still, the young men of those days were very well satisfied it and didn’t call early to avoid the rush. —Terra Haute Gazette.. “You say your son is a painter, Mrs. Browne. Is he a landscape painter?” “No, I think not. His last job was on the Galw ay flat house. He is more of a firc-esgape painter.”— Harper's Bazar. “You appear to be in good health,” said a prison visitor to a convict. “It is only in appearance, sir,” replied the con vict, ‘ ‘for the fact is I am confined to my room more than half the time.”— Sifting*. A busy doctor of Scranton, Penn., sent in a certificate of death to the health officer, and inadvertently placed his name in the space for “cause of death.” This is what might be called accidental exact ness.—Chicago Herald. Ice in His Pocket. A white roan from away down South in the Okeechobee Lake region came up to Gainesville on business at the United Stites Land Office. While here he saw the first ice he had erer seen. He manifested great interest in the frigid mbstanee, and put a half-pound lump in his pants ] ocket to take home to his family. He soon took it out of his pocket, however, and as he did so, 3aid: “I am afe ud it will spile my ter backer.”— Gainesville CFla.) News.