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VOL. I. MARY, KNITTING. When Mary sits a-knitting Beside the cozy lire, Her bending motherhood’s face so happy With desire, It makes the room seem holy, A oonseeruted place, With God's smile in the fire-light That flickers on her face. The clicking of the needles, The crumble of the coals. Make such a quiet music For our two quiet souls! And when the little mother Spreads out the garments small, The look, the touch she gives it Like saintly blessings fall. We sit until the twilight Her snowy weaving blurs, And in the creaking shutter A little night-wiud stirs. Then Mary’s face sinks lower Unto the little gown, Until she seems to kiss it Before she lays it down. —Harper’s . Bazar. *%* • k FRIEND IN NEED. f • * f ® They itsed to make frm of him at the office. He was a queer old fellow, with a solemn face and what we thought ridiculously polite ways. * He would take off his hat when he came in and say: “Good morning, gentlemen. I trust I see you all in good health this fine day. ” would nod— And some of the hoys and some wouldn’t do anything; but I never could help standing up and S owing, perhaps because I knew that my mother would Lave said I ought to do it. And, you see, it was gentlemanly of him, I said; and if he was a little creature, with a queer little wig, why, he looked something like a gentleman, too. I said so once to Merrivale, next ■desk to mine; but—well—I didu’t try it again. You see, Merrivale was up to every¬ thing, dressed elegantly, sneered at everything almost, and I’d come from a country town aud be was a city man. Nobody was down on “Old Dumps” as he was, especially after he made us that speech about our conduct to the ladies. Dumps made the speech you know, and it was Merrivale who had said the lady only came in to look at him. “The man who calls a blush to the cheek of a woman by look or tone must have forgotton his mother,” said Old Dumps. “When that lady asked _you a civil question she relied on her belief that you were a gentleman, Mr. Merrivale. When you answered her as you did and spoke to her as you did any one could read your insulting thoughts, Mr. Merrivale; and you did not even rise from your seat, sir. You proved that she was very much mis¬ taken.” “Mean to say that I am no gentle¬ man?” said Merrivale, “In this instance, sir,” said Old Dumps, “you certainly have not con¬ ducted yourself as one should.” “Mr. Dumps is right this time,” said I. “Bah!” said- Merrivale. “You’re from the country.” then, “Thank heaven for it, my young friend,” said Dumps, as he sat •down. After that Merrivale was never even half way civil to Dumps,and the boys followed Merrivale’s lead. But I liked the old fellow. When we met in the street I’d take off my hat and shake hands aud say some of those jmlite things that mother used to teach me to say. And I wrote of him to mother, and she said she was glad that her boy knew what was due to a good old gentleman. lived at Hare- Sometimes, when I dale with my mother, I’ve seen the sky beautiful and bright and blue one hour and the next black with the clouds of a thunderstorm. Just that way my trouble came to me—an awful trouble—such as I could not have dreamed of. I had written to my mother that I •was doing well and liked my business, aud would be down to see her Sun¬ day, when I was sent for to go into the inner office; and there—I can’t go through with it—I can’t even remem¬ ber details; but I was charged with being a thief. You’d have to understand our par¬ ticular business, as well as bookeep¬ ing, to know how I was supposed to have done it; but they believed I had robbed them of $500. They urged me to confess. I was innocent, and I said so. Then they told me they did not wish to be hard on me. I was young. The city was TRIBUNE. “Don’t Give Up tlao Ship.” BUCHANAN. GA„ FRIDAY, JUNE IT. 1898. a bad place for boys. They would be merciful and only dismiss me without recommendation. All I could say had no effect. They proved me guilty be¬ fore they accused me, they said; aiul at last I staggered out into the office. The boys were getting ready to go home. I saw they knew what had happened. “None of you believed this of me?” said I. “None of you who knew me?” And Merrivale said: “Look here,Forrester; you’re lucky to get off' so.” And Grab said: “I say, Forrester, don’t talk too much; you’ll give yourself away.” And what with shame and rage and grief, I could have died; when out of his dusty corner came Old Dumps, in his little snuff' colored overcoat and held out his hand. “Mr. Forrester,” he said, “I’ve watched you ever since you’ve been here. I know what you are. You are incapable of a dishonest act, aud what ' is I will prove it before I rest, more, i The man who respects others always respects himself. The man who honors his mother will do no dishonorable thing.” He took my hand iu his arm, and, bowing to the others, walked out into tlie street with me. I heard Grab and Stover and Cnrberry laugh, but Merri¬ vale gave a furious look and stood, white to the lips, looking after us. “Mr. Dumps,” said I, “1 thank you for your confidence in me. I deserve it—in this, at least; but it saves my heart from breaking under this dis¬ grace. How shall I tell my mother?” “Don’t tell her yet,” said he. “Wait. Others shall think of you as I do soon.” Then he went on in silence. He took me to his own room, where he kept bachelor’s hall. He made tea for me aud served -me with sliced potted beef and thin bread and butter. And it was not until we had done tea that he said to me, very apologet¬ ically, after I had called him Mr. Dumps: “Mr. Forrester, excuse me, but I am not named Dumps. That is the name by which the young men at the store consider it witty to call me. I confess I could uot see the wit, but it rather hurt them than me. I saw by your manner that you had made a mis¬ take. My name is Adams.” I was so much ashamed of having used the nickilame,innocently as I did it, that I could have cried. But my old friend comforted me. One day he came to me, flushed with triumph, and took both my hands and shook them hard, and said: “My dear boy, it’s all right. I’d watched before and had had a clew. Your character is cleared. Tbe firm welcomes you back with regrets that they should have suspected you, and the real culpit is found. The real eul- pit is Merrivale, and Stover is his ac¬ complice.” And so it really was. They had doctored my books and meddled with my proofs. situation and I went back to my I’ve got on well ever since; but there’s more of my story. Think of my dear Old Dumps turning out to be my uncle—my mother’s own brother—and neither of us guessing it. Long ago other people had quarreled and so separated these two, who were always friends. of in the Think the little man shabby wig and coat proving to be quite rich and going down into the country to live with his sister for the rest of his life. In vacations and holidays I go to see them. They are happy together, and the little table is set with the old china, and there is potted beef and jelly, and I’m petted like a child. And in my uncle’s room the miniature of the young lady hangs on the man¬ tle-piece as it did in his lodgings. And once he told me its sweet, sad story and I knew why the quaint, old man in the office had a more true and tender gallantry to women, and was a braver friend and more perfect gentle¬ man than the young fops who grinned at him from the high stools between his desk and the window and gave him the nickname of Old Dumps, A New Microbe. A microbe that lives and multiplies in strong alcohol has been discovered by Veley. It is believed that this ac¬ counts for the fact that rum sometimes deteriorates on a sea voyage. One ti?g recently guided down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers a tow of fifty-two coal boats, four barges, three “flats,” aud one box boat, freighted with 1,453,000 bushels of coal. PENMAN’S WONDERFUL FEAT. An Australian Acldres**'* Envelopes With Botli Hands at Same Time. Wrapper writing is, it would seem, a popular way of earning a livelihood with the inmates of Rowtou house, London, a six-penny hotel, Here is an amusing story of the perfection to which it may be brought by practice and a strong will. “There is a tradition lingering among the elder brethren of the wrap¬ per writing profession to the effect that once upon a time when the work was better paid than now, a young man from Australia turned up and ventured as a last resource into their sphere of labor. He spent his all and found himself stranded until funds should arrive from the autipodes. So on the suggestion of an acquaintance, he applied for a job at the world-famed firm of Schmidt & Co. On being duly installed and supplied with 500 en¬ velopes and some pages from a direc¬ tory he looked around and asked for a pen. * i ‘But you have one already,’ said the young man in authority. “ I want two,’ said the Australian, and an obliging fellow scribe supplied j his need. The scene which thereupon ' ensued baffles description, ’for tile col- j onial, separating the pile of envelopes into two equal lots, began copying the addresses by writing simultaneously legend’, with both bauds. So runs the at least, and, furthermore it is averred that his rapidity was such as to put the ‘sloggers’ to shame. Fifty pens dropped from the nerveless grasp of .those who but a minute before had been writing against time and as if for dear life. A hundred eyes were fixed in astonishment on the unknown one. Presently the young overseer who superintended the labors of many old enough to be his grandfather rose and timidly said he would consult‘the governor.’ The latter arrived, and the situation being explained, the Australian was turned into a loose box all by himself and fed with another thousand or so of envelopes. At this rate he earned enough in two or three weeks to enable him to last out com¬ fortably till his remittances arrived, then he went home and Schmidt’s knew him no more. We asked the old gentleman who told us this yarn to fill his pipe and have another cup of tea, for we thought he deserved both.” JTirst Hot-Water Lamp-I’ost in London. Reference has already been made to the hot-water lamp-posts to be erected in different parts of London. The first has been placed in one of the courtyards of Queen’s buildings, Southwark Bridge road. Liverpool is already familiar with this form of street-lamp, which holds out consider¬ able advantages to the man who comes from his work iu the early morning and may require hot water for making himself a cup of cocoa before turning in. By placing a half-penny iu the slot and pressing down a lever, a gal¬ lon of hot water, heated iu a coil above the gas jets, can be obtained at any hour of the day or night. A further convenience is proposed by the pro¬ moters of the scheme in the form of packets of solidified tea, eoffee, or cocoa, and the use of a metal mug for the extra charge of one penny. Lamps are soon to be erected in Leicester square, Stony lane, Aldgate, and Pet¬ ticoat lane.—Westminster Gazette. How Clgarg Are Sent to the Klondike. There will be cigars to burn and to be burned in the Klondike as soon as the dog sledge pack trains can get through the Chilkoot. One hundred thousand Canada-made cigars have recently gone on their way to the frozen-in city of gold millionaires, each box of 100 cigars being placed in a water-tight tin box and enclosed in lots of 5000 in a strong wooden case. Each case has rope handles and will fit readily on the dog sleds which are to carry the goods over the Chilkoot Pass. The puipose of placing the cigars in waterproof tin boxes is to prevent damage to them iu the event of the shipments being dumped into the rapids. The cigars were bought in Canada to. escape duty and save difficulty with the customs authorities. The express charges on this shipment of 100,000 to Victoria alone amounts to $300.—New York Journal. * War Into Africa. “Your wife is somewhat strong- minded, isn’t she, Littlejohn?” “Strong-minded? A furniture polish peddler came here yesterday aud in five minutes’ talk she sold him some polish she had made herself. ”—Detroit Free Press. ANCLO-SAXONS GREAT WRITERS. Astonishing Facts About the Postal Kusl- ncss of the World. Two thirds of all the letters which pass through the postoffices of the world are written by aud sent to jieople who speak English. There are substantially 500,000,000 persons speaking colloquially one or another of the ten or twelve chief modern lan¬ guages, and of these about twenty- live per cent., or 125,000,000 persons, speak English. About 00,000,000 speak Russian, 75,000,000 (ierman, 55,000,000 French, 42,000,000 Span¬ ish, 35,000,000 Italian aud 12,000,000 Portuguese, and the ba’ance Hun¬ garian, Dutch, Polish, Flemish, Bo¬ hemian, Gaelic, Roumanian, Swedish, Finnish, Danish and Norwegian. Thus, while only one-quarter of those who employ the facilities of the postal departments of civilized governments speak, as their native tongue, Eng¬ lish, two-thirds of those who corres¬ pond do so in the English language. This situation arises from the fact that so large a share of the commei- cial business of the world is done in English, .even among those who do not speak English as their native language. There are, for instance, more than 20,000 postoffices in India, the business of which in letters and papers aggregates more than 300,000,- 000 parcels and the business . a year, °/ * bese offices is done chiefly in Eng- though of India s total popula- tiou,which is nearly 300,000,000,fewer than 300,000 persons either speak or understand English. I hough 90,000,000 speak or under- stand Russian, the business of the Russian post department is relatively small, the number of letters sent throughout the czar’s empire amouut- ing to less than one-tenth the number mailed in Great Britain alone, though the population of Great Britain is considerably less than one-half of the population of Russia in Europe. The Southern and Central Ameri¬ can countries in which either Spanish or Portuguese is spokeii do compara¬ tively little postoflice business, the total number of letters posted and collected in a year in all the countries of South and Central America and the West Indies being less than iu Aus¬ tralia. Chili and Argentina are, in fact, the only two South American countries in which any important postal business is done, and most of the letters received from or sent to foreign countries are not in Spanish, but in English, French, German or Italian.—New York Herald. , Curious Treatment of Gunshot Wounds. * A correspondent of the Bombay (In¬ dia) Gazette, writing from Marnani of recent British operations against the Afridis, says : “One poor Yorkshireman who fell into the enemy’s hands was brought back to us after two days. It appears that he was shot through the chest near the heart and was well cared for by the Afridis, who spoke highly of his pluck. Their mode of treatment of wounds is curious, and this soldier came to hospital with half a brenst of a chicken on each wound, As soon as possible they kill a fowl, and while the flesh is hot apply it to the wound, and from what our wounded ‘Tommy’ told me it is grateful and comforting. “One of the Drabis who was cap¬ tured on Dec. 13, and who was kept by the Afridis to help to dig graves, tells me all their wounded after the fight on the 13th were treated with raw flesh freshly killed, some with chickens, others with goat or bullock flesh. This same Drabis says he alone dug sixty graves, and that the Afridis lost heavily on the 13th, and had a very large number of wounded as well as killed. After all the dead were buried the Drabis was thanked for his trouble by a sound thrashing and told to ‘leg it, ’ which he gladly did. ” Disadvantage of Wealth. “The possession of great wealth has been demoralizing to the Osage In¬ dians,” said Mr. O. M. Bass of Okla- loma. “Every year they are getting more worthless and more unwilling to ex¬ ert themselves in any useful way. There are only 2000 of them, o! but they own over 1,000,000 acres fertile land, have $9,000,000 in trust with the government, which allows them five per cent, interest, and have lands leased to cattlemen aud farmers that bring them in a handsome revenue. Each family of the tribe owns over 5000 acres and about $30,000 in money. The Indian isn’t by nature much of a worker, and when he has such a ‘soft snap’ as these Osages have, it is no wonder that he degen¬ erates into a chronic loafer.” NO. 28. A VETERAN’S REMINISCENCES. Civil War Experience* With Tent* of Various Kind* and With None. “When we started out,” said a civil war veteran, “our regiment had tents furnished by the state, just as many other equipments besides were in those days at the outset to volunteer regiments, aud as I suppose they will be now. Those tents were made to hold ten men each. We had five of them on each side of the company street. They had a ridge pole sup¬ ported by a centre pole, forming a sort of great T. The tent was drawn over the ridge pole from which it sloped down all around to the ground, where it was pegged down. The guns were stacked around the centre pole. In these tents the men slept, lying like the spokes of a wheel, with their feet toward the centre, though iu cold weather they would often lie closer to¬ gether, spoon fashion, to keep warm. With ten men in a tent there was no f°?l n *° . B P are ‘, £h ^\ were made , bold tbat ud . bu * t a 110 “ 01 e > tbere bbel to , be omeb ody , out was y « on guard duty or away for one reason aild pother, and so these tents were “ ot ahv ‘Y' s crowded. There was some- times a little spare space, It was a mighty little, but as compared with nothing it was room. llus spare space when it did exist was variously utilized. In the tent that I was in, with one or two men out, we used the space for a stove which we built of bricks aud some pieces of iron that we got from a dismantled building near where our camp was located, with a chimney of tomato cans, which for some reason we couldn’t get to draw. “When those first big tents were worn out, ns they were in a few months, ^ " e / e uot reaewed \ From the I tl,lie of leavjn . « tbe state we bad ceased to draw supplies from the state. We had become actually a part of the army and we drew army supplies. When we needed tents we drew from the quartermaster’s department the regulation A tents, wedge-shaped, and about seven feet square at the base, and made to hold four men, or five on a pinch. I remember very well the first camp we had with our new tents. We made a new camp ground at a lit¬ tle distance from the old, and pitched tne tents there. They were brand j new, of « uniform whiteness, and they certainl t-.' did look slick and handsome ; and “We liked these tents better thau the old ones. AVith four men iu a tent, in a settled camp, it was possible to build raised bunks for two meu each, a bunk on each side of the tent, with a little gangway between, where you could stand, or put your feet if you were sitting on the edge of the bunk. Sometimes with four in ateut the men build separate bunks, one on each side, aud two bunks one above the other iu the middle. Then there were two narrow gangways and each man had a separate bed. The beds were narrow, of course, but any sort of bed was a great thing, aud an A tent was as good as a house. had “There were times when all we were shelter tents, half of a shelter tent being a piece of cotton cloth about six feet iu length by three or four feet iu width. Two pieces fastened together made a tent, or rather a shel¬ ter for two men. Sometimes a man preferred to sleep alone under his own single piece, rigged up the best way he could fix it, so that he could crawl under it. He had to lie straight and quiet to keep under it. And then there were times when men had no tents at all, or no chance to pitch them, and when they just simply lay down without shelter and were glad of the chance, but whatever a man might have or be without, be always hung on to his rub¬ ber blanket.”—New York Sun. Cut off Her Hair to Buy Bread. Recently an east London church worker, iu her daily rounds of visita¬ tion, went to see a woman who was living in the deepest poverty. While they were engaged in conversation the door was suddenly flung open and a young girl rushed into the room, ex¬ claiming, “They won’t buy jt, mother!” The visitor, turning around, noticed that the girl’s head was closely shorn, and in her hands was an abundance of beautiful hair, which she had been un¬ successfully trying to sell in order to procure bread for her mother and her¬ self. An Ohio woman has notified all whom it may concern, through the medium of an advertisement in a coun¬ try weekly, that she has renounced her marriage with her present husband, and henceforth will not consider her¬ self married.