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Natlonal Flowers.
In erown and seal the royal Rose it sign
And symbol sweet of England's sover
eignty;
oOld France her banners filled with flour
de-Lis,
And German flags shake out the Corn-flow
er’s shine. ;
The Thistle is the Scotsman’s kingly flower,
And Ireland proudly waves her Shamrock
green. ;
But io cur flag no one flower might be
As emblem of our greatness, Splendid
shower ; ste 8
All blossoms on our vastness—lily, rose,
The thistle, shamrock, corn-flower, thou
sands more,
That grow from stern Alaska to Gulf
shore, g
And bloom by sandy beach or mountain
snows;
All flowers of use or beauty God bestows
To grace our boundaries and their scope dis
close.
~FEmily E. F. Ford in Harper's Weekly.
o i
WANTED--AN HEIRESS.
BY EMMA A. HOPPER.
¢Here's a story for you!” said Mrs.
Gerry to a literary friend, seated in her
handsome parlor.
Her jolly, matronly face broadened
with smiles at an apparently diverting
recollection.
¢“You wouldn't credit the incident if
you read it; but as I was an eye-wit
ness, I can vouch for it. You’ll be paid
for listening; it's really too good!
“I took what I called a wvacation af
ter we got done with Asbury Park and
Saratoga last summer. Mr. Gerry was
going west on a two-week’s business
trip, and said I:
¢¢ (I’ve worked hard this summer, and
I'm going to take a rest. I've talked
amiably to five hundred thousand peo
ple I haven’t cared for; I've rowed and
sailed all summer, though it makes me
sick, and bathed religiously, when I
hate it; I've chaperoned a million girls
'to doings of allsorts, and even succeed
ed in getting one or two engaged—and
I’ve earned a period of peace. I'm go
ing to spend the two weeks of your
‘absence, Mr. Gerry, in a woodland re
treat.’
““Well, it wasn’t that precisely, but it
‘was passable. I went to a little hotel
in the Catskills. I found too many peo
ple there to suit me, though. Oid Col
‘onel Marlow came the next day-—an en
tomological old crank, craving his par
don; he carries a trunkful of dried |
beetles and things about with him; and
Harry Fosdick was there with his friend
Mr. Pierson. |
! o] had met Fosdick before,and abom
inated him for a conceited sprig and an
heiress hunter. Mr. Pierson was a lank
young creature, with an inane smile and
a middle parting to his hair.
¢‘They were two of a kind, and most
congenial, till the new waitress burst
upon the scens. If the new waitress
didn’t stir things up!
¢Polly, her name was. The other
girls were the regulation sort, imported
from the city, I imagine, frizzed hair,
red jerseys, pert ways—you know them,
¢Polly was an oasis in the desert.
Polly wasn’t exactly pretty, but she was
a 8 fresh and blooming as a rose, as neat
as wax, and as bright as a dollar. I
fairly nabbed her for my table,and kept
Jer; and we got to be very good friends,
Polly and L
#old Colonel Marlow was at my
table. He mooned at me three times a
day through his spoctacles, and talked
moths and mosquitoes to me till
I felt like one of his pin-stuck speci
mens.
¢“But after Polly came the colonel
bent the light of his glasses on her with
vivid interest. Ithought at first that
the old absurdity was in love with her.
¢But that wasn’t it. He followed me
out to the piazza one day; he looked
excited.
¢ ‘Mrs. Gerry,’ said he, ‘I have made
a remarkable discovery—extraordinary!
Do you know the identity of the young
woman who serves at our table?
¢ q know she lives down the road
somewhere,’ said I, ‘ina vine-clad cot
tage, probably, and that the proprietor
of the hotel, having bought butter and
eggs from her father, made bold to 'ask
Polly to fill the vacancy left by the sud
~den departure of a waitress, and that
Polly being obliging and not too proud
to turn an honest penay, came flong.”
“Tho colonel looked sly.
. ‘TRat's what the landlord has given
g A sst s & fabrica-
T, i
‘*wv’*’%jfifififikfiw
You have heard of her! Bhe is heireas
to half a million.’
I had heard of her. Bhe wasa
friend of the Lemoynes, and the Le
moynes are friends of mine. I laughed
& full mmnute. ’
«¢The last I heard of Miss Gardner,’
said I, ‘she wasin Europe. I don’t
‘think she’s returned.’
¢‘That young person is Miss Polly
Gardner,” said the colonel, peremptori
ly. = ‘“lrecognized her at a glance—at
a glance, Mrs. Gerry." :
¢ “You are short-sighted, colonel,’ I
ventured, ‘and perhaps a little absent
minded.’
¢¢‘Possibly, M. Gerry,” said the
colonel with dignity, ‘the fact remains
that I recognize Miss Gardner beyond
doubt, strange though the fact may
seem.’ :
¢ (She is, then, out of her senses?’
said I, patiently.
¢« trust not,’ said the colonel.
‘But Miss Gardner, Mrs, Gerry, is a
whimsical young woman. She has a
reputation for peculiarity. Her large
and independent fortune has made her
somewhat crochety. lam not greatly
astonished at this freak, remarkable
though it is. Evidently she has tired
of gaieties, frivolities, and has taken
this course for a complete change. I
have read of such things,’ said the ecol
onel, thoughtfully, ‘but never before
have I seen it. If it were the act of
any but an eccentric, self-willed young
woman, I could not believe my eyes.’
¢ ‘But nobody cutside of a mad
house,’ said I, and considerably more in
that strain.
¢All in vain. When the colonel be
took himself and his butterfly-net and
his bottle of ether into the woods, some
time later, it was with his phenomenal
belief unchanged.
¢ shall not accost her,” said he.
‘An exposure would undoubtedly annoy
her.’
¢ (Undoubteaiy,’ said I.
“That's the first chapter of the com
edy. To comprehend the sequel you
must understand that the colonel is
garrulous. When Isaw him talking to
Harry Fosdick, and later to Mr. Pierson—
when I observed them listening with
open mouths and bulging eyes—l knew
what he was imparting.
‘‘Now, I'm discrect and far-seeing.
I kept my counsel and awaited develop
ments.
“Sure enough, the little Fosdick
joined me in the parlor one morning.
“¢That is a charming girl at your
table, Mrs. Gerry,’ said he. ‘And a
lady. Thatis evident. I may as well
confess that lam much impressed with
her. Some men would blush to confess
it, Mrs. Gerry, merely because she has
not a high social position nor money.
I,’ said the little wretch, ‘am a man of
more independence. I admire Miss
Polly and I own it boldly.’
«Bah! how I wanted to take him by
the collar and shake him. But I knew
his sin would overtake him, for I knew
his corrupt little head was teeming with
thoughts of the Gardner half- million.
Where pure meanness is concerned I am
merciless. I own that I chuckled.
“Then came along Mr. Pierson, of
the lady-like hair. He referred to
Polly in terms of warm approval.
¢ ‘When I marry, Mrs. Gerty,’ he re
marked, ‘I marry the girl of my heart's
choice, and not the parti indicated by
worldly prudence. If it be necessary to
slap society in the face, Mrs. Gerry, 1
shall do it.’
“If you could have seen him as he
uttered it! His weak blue eyes tried to
flash, but didn’t succeed, and he forti
fied himself with the head of his cane.
¢ ‘Go on, addle-pates!’ said I, in
wardly. ‘lt’s fun for me. Go on!’
“8o it was, and for everybody else;
though with everybody else they got
the credit of being honestly in love with
my poor Polly. ‘I had the real enjoy
ment all to myself.
«Polly didn’t know how to take it.
To have two fine young men of a sudden
paying her all sorts of respectful atten
tions—looking at her and smiling at
her, hurrying through their meals in
order to get a chance to speak to her,
bowing to her as they would have to
any lady when she entered the dining
room—well, Polly was bewildered, that
was obvious.
*The frizzled and red-jerseyed wait
powsas didu't lke, it . They - glggled
| coohiat Polly endirsd in the kitchen,
realistically before you! Try to imagine
it!
“Fosdick gave Polly fresh flowers
every day, and. Pierson sent to New
York for a box of the best confectionery.
Fosdick hung about sedulously when
Polly was on the scene; Pierson I sus
pect of having sent notes to her by the
bellboy.
“Finally, as a desperate move—you
wouldn’t have believed they’d have gone
to such lengths on mere speculation—
but Fosdick sent to the city for his |
trap, in bold readiness for the next step
in the campaign, and Pierson walked a ‘
mile to a livery stable to see if there
were any suitable buggies for hire.
¢ ¢4 have relatives, Mrs. Gerry,” said
Pierson, ‘who would be shocked to
know of my honest admiration for a
waitress. What do I care! Isnap my
fingers at them!’
‘‘And he heroically snapped.
¢t I do not ask myself what the world
would say, Mrs. Gerry,’ said Fosdick—
Fosdick grew most confidential toward
the last—‘because I am not that kind of
a man. lam my own master, thatshall
be seen!’
“J presume they fondly believed that
I repeated their remarks to Polly,know
ing me to be on good terms with her.
I needn’t say that I didn’t.’
“Of course it grew warm toward the
climax. The hotel was agog with it, of
course, and Pierson and Fosdick hardly
on speaking terms, and Polly the ob
gerved of all observers.
¢‘Polly bore herself well. You see,
the meckest woman has a spark of
coquetry, and Polly, I am convinced,
half enjoyed it, in spite of her amaze
ment and the spleen of the red jerseys.
I haven't any proof of it—but Polly
looked demure.
¢“‘Colonel Marlow and his insects took
themselves off before the end came.
¢‘Well that he did! - I couldn’t have
answered for the consequences if he
hadn’t.
‘“Well, it came with a crash, and I
had the real pleasure of witnessing it.
I was reading on the side porch one
afternoon, just the day before I came
home, and Fosdick put in a sudden,
hurried appearance.
‘¢« ‘Have you seen Miss Polly, Mrs.
Gerry? said he, ‘l’m looking for her.’
¢ Jsn’t that she?’ said I sweetly.
«Polly was coming round from the
kitchen court. She had her hat on and
Pierson was with her.
“Fosdick turned a little pale. Then
presently the pent-up storm burst. I put
my book over my lips and serenely lis
tened. .
¢ ¢I have my trap waiting, Miss Pol
ly,’ said Fosdick—actually he did, it
seemed. ‘I wish the pleasure of your
company for a drive. Imentioned the
matter yesterday, you remember.’ i
¢t didn’t say I could go, Mr. Fos
dick,’ said Polly.
“I could see the poor girl was fright
ened. Her voice fairly trembled.
¢ I'm going home today,’ said she.
¢« qf Miss Polly does remember,’ said
Pierson, superciliously, ‘he will not be
able to accompany you. I have engaged
her company for the afternoon.’
¢ Mr, Pierson,’ said Polly, faintly,
T'm going home. I'm expecting some
body to get me.’
¢ (Not to-day, Miss Polly,’ said Fos
dick. ‘Don’t tell me that you are going
today. You are going no further than
the Peak to—day, with me.’
¢ 4 beg your pardon, Mr. Fosdick,’
said Pierson, glaring.
¢¢ ‘No more words, sirl’ said Fosdick,
savagely.
¢Polly broke out crying from sheer
fright, sidling up to me. I think Pol
ly felt all through that affair that I was
her friend.
“A big fellow in a flannel shirt and
a straw hat came around the porch just
then, with a whip in his hand, light
heartedly snapping it. .
“A good-looking fellow, too, with
light curls and sharp, dark eyes.
‘‘He stared at Polly, - standing there
with her two adorers; but he recovered.
¢ ‘Come on, Poll,’ said he; ‘hoss’s
a-waiting.’
¢ ¢What do you mean? said Pierson,
turning on him. :
He began to look scared, and Fosdick
was getting white about the gills.
¢ q don’t mean much,’ said Polly’s
| young man; it had dawned upon me in
| stantly that it was Polly's young man.
|GI Tigot Biove when' 1.l weid ha,
L T
“Woe! the bomb' _had burst, Of
course they looked ghastly. I won't
dwell on the way they did look.
“Only if Colonel Marlow had been
there at the moment, I think his life
would have been endangered. Making
abject fools of two conceited and snob
bish fellows at a time isn’t safe, you see.
““There was an awful stillness—which
poor Polly didn’t fully understand. She
thought merely that they had rather
liked her, and were put out. She dried
her eyes, and even smiled at them
apologetically.
¢ think that attitude of Polly’s as
that moment—her timid commiseration
of them; hers, a penniess country last
—was, after all, the bitterest drop in
the bucket. They fairly writhed un
der it!
“Well, they went home-—or some
where—on the evening train, They
went together, but they didn’t go as
friends, and whether they have made it
up I don’t know. It wasn’t exactly a
David-and-Jonathan friendship, any
how, so it doesn’t much matter.
“I gave Polly fifty dollars to buy her
wedding-gowns with. I thought I had
had enough enjoyment, on the whole,
to warrant it; and you know I always
pay as I go.
“q should surely have attended the
wedding if I hadn’t come away before
it transpired; I had the most pressing
invitation possible. I did a last wicked
act; I made her promise to send invita.
tions to Fosdick and Pierson; Itold her
it was incumbent. I couldn’t resist it.
¢‘As for Miss Gardner, she’s in Europe
still, so the Lemoynes tell me. If ever
I meet her,and I mean to, I shall
give her a good laugh with my little
story.
“And old Colonel Marlow—l'm just
waiting to see him oncel” —Saturday
Night.
A Watchmaker's Tradition,
In a recent conversation with a New
York Star reporter a prominent jeweler
of Maiden lane told the following story
to explain why the Roman numerals
printed on the dials of watches and
clocks differ from those in common use.
He said: :
It is nothing but a tradition among
watchmakers, but the custom has al
ways been preserved. You may or you
may not know that the first clock that
in any way resembled those now in ugse
was made by Henry Vick in 1370. He
made it for Charles V. of France, who
has been called ‘The Wise.’
¢BO the story runs in this fashion,
although I will not vouch for the lan
guage, but put it in that of the present
day:
«Now, Charles was wise ina good
many ways. He was wise enough to
recover from England most of the land
which Edward 111. had conquered, and
he did a good many other things which
benefited France. But his early educa
tion had been somewhat neglected, and
he probably would have had trouble in
passing & civil service examination in
these enlightened ages. Still he had
the reputation for wisdom, and thought
that it was necessary, in order to keep
it up, that he should also be supposed
to possess book learning. The latter
was a subject he was extremely touchy
about.
¢ Yes, the clock works well,’ said
Charles, ‘but,’ being anxious to find
some fault with a thing he did not un
derstand, ‘you have got the figures on
the dial wrong.’
. ¢ ‘Wherein, your majesty? asked
Vick.
¢ «That four should be four ones,’
said the king.
¢ ¢You are wrong, your majesty,’ said
Vick.
¢¢¢Jam never wrong!’ thundered the
king. ‘Take it away and correct the
mistake!” and corrected it was, and
from that day to this 4 o'clock cn a
watch or clock dial has been IIIL. in
stead of IV. Thy tradition has, been
faithfully followed.”
B e ]
A Fearful Threat.
Irate Suburban Resident—See here;
if you don't stop getting out that lawn
mower of yours every morning at four
o'clock, I'll—I'l1—" ‘
~ Next Door Neighbor (defiantly)—
Well, what'll you do? e
|LS R—TU-—TII start my daughter
to practicing on the piano every mom
e *’“‘@%
a%?;%w&“%”‘
\ v
FAST MAILS. -
Letters to be Carried Hundreds
of Miles in an Hour.
A System Which May Revolu=~
tionize the Postal Service.
B
A Boston correspondent of the New
Orleans Picayune says: Within a
twelvemonth from the present date
mails will be carried from Boston to New
York city in sixty minutes. 8o say the
capitalists who are making arrangements.
for the establishment of a transport line,
on the so-called ‘‘portelectric system,”
for the conveyance of letters and pack
ages between the metropolis and the
modern Athens. Even the least san
guine backers of the enterprise are con
fident that, if the expected public sup
port is given to the scheme, not more
than two years will be required at most
for the establishment of the necessary
plant in running order, to bring
the two centers of population
within an hour's distance by
post. The said plant will resemble, as
to its most essential part, a little ele
vated railway, supported on a single
line of tall iron uprights and stretching
from the postoffice here to that on the
island of Manhattan. Along the track
on top runs a small car laden with mail
freight, which at certain intervals dur
ing its transit is seen to go under queer
looking box-shaped arches. These box
like arrangements contain each one a
coil of wire, passing beneath the rail
below and around over the arch, so that
the moving mail carriage runs, as it
were, through a succession of coiled
wire hoops. And these latter communi
cate the motive power to the vehicle.
Such a hoop of magnetized coiled wire
is called a ‘‘helix,” and possesses this
peculiar property, that if a bar of iron
or steel -be placed with one end
near the center of the coil, the bar will
be drawn into that center. Place a
number of similar coils in a row and
start an electric current through them,
then apply the bar to the first coil, and
by cutting off and letting on the circuit
at the proper intervals, so as to disen
gage the bar from the ‘attraction of one
coil in time t> have it drawn on by the
next, the bar may be made to move con
tinuously through the hoops. In this
way it is that the little mail car of mag
netized steel is caused to pass along its
rails through successive coils of boxed
in wire, the latter being magnetized by
a current from a dynamo, which the car
itself shuts off and turns on automati
cally as it proceeds. The speed
to be attained by the
car in this manner is almost in
calculable. As is recognized in mechan
ics, a constant propelling force is pro
ductive of nearly infinite velocity, ob
structed only be the resistance of frie
tion. In this system the only friction
comes from the air and the slight con
tact of the car with the rails. Two
hundred and fifty miles an hour is not
thought to be an overestimate of the
speed easily to be compassed by the
portelectric post-dispatch. At the
starting point the wire coils will have
to be close together and on up grades;
but elsewhere, and especially on down
grades, they may be few and far be
tween, the motive power needed being
slight. Six stations, placed at inter
vals between here and New York, will
supply the requisite currents from dyna
mos.
Many experts think that the system is.
destined to revolutionize the postal ser
vice in this country. For instance, it is.
expected that instead of mails hours.
apart between Boston and New York,
carriages will be sent over the tracks.
from either end of the line at five-minute
intervals, thus rendering unnecessary
the waiting for mails to close, and
giving people in one city an opportunity
to read their letters two hours after
they are written in the other. Once:
prove the notion a success here and it
~will be quickly adopted everywhere.
By applying it on a large scale, too,
who knows that it may not serve for the
transportation of passengers some dayt?
At the rate of 9250 miles an hour ome
could put a girdle around the earth in
>; four days! Truly, it is a WGM
oentiry welive dn. . .0
ety e s b e
\m
