Newspaper Page Text
Farmer Joj’m
Th* finn-r wo* Eptrum Joy,
and Iwnt. with th* b«rt of a
boy.
lU* wbi»th«l all day *>•* la- ptaugtawlor nv.w»«i.
ll* wh wight* < np<»ii llw run I
H* ladud bl* <tiHk ami <wl**4 *v«ry <**•
J’y Mara* ronUcal naim- fnr the ar.ka <>f th**
fun
!!«• mtig at hl* niiUing. and pitching hi* Im) ;
H* alwaya wa- >«uitu) ** iirtrvcr th* day.
Ik* ram*d hu tfwm to tba acigbburing
town;
Thro day* In the w»*k hi r<*i»- tip and down.
•<(11 Binging *»r whittling or noting hl*
Afti climbing Un- bit!-* or <T*»Mi:ig tbn
atnawn
N<it -• •ugh- l»**u**’ dal h»* <•%*» |w*** bv
IV tt boot *toj»piiig III* hot*■*•* and waiting to
; <Q.
V»rTi jwdghlMrt*, anyUm*. wanb-l mv wa
I m ivgvia a arm nt In n»o*t of Um* day.
\nd all of the farmer* »b*» |»b*i<b**4 along
With tii’Vi r a *n»il* or a not* of a <>ng-
Ht o rwvrr found thn* to g*’t out the
’ ‘aha y. w
And lukf wife and < bildr' u off for a <iay
lU< thought it wi <pi •• i in old Epbniim
Joy
T« l« jolly and nmrrj *> miirh Ilka a fifty,
lV* » all v«ry glad wlru h* wenlupand
down,
'I- have him do “arrauU,* if nwl I**, in
Uiwti.
wa> fuMtHian vipr* •*<inan and m**H * n;’<T,
h*
Aty/u VMrfgbl h«t*i f'»rg't!ii»g a thing lx*
y : ■ aid do;
utd ycu'd nnv«T have gm-'t i* I In* wa* aixty
yririohl.
' ’bi* l ” ’ a imranliif, u«lw-'l lawn
I i M1 /
«. ’.. Jjtvufl ' M*V hl» m.lk •niw Im- i aiwavu a
haul
IVliMi L* »tHrb*«l hr* ho< <w« a ;aln nn tin- ro.vl.
ii. -H * wa bi ,h and Im nuinn r*
tow bhy
'■ ® ' '*ll r *nui - io • on”» th' i t »’ •eoni**! Id
> WOr fei M>r
f; lit. I </*?«.) I’Ve *'Hl<l<* --*l. whih thinking of
him
V.’itl mv I--art full of love, uliile my ry«**
I a vi* gixiw u ihln.
Os th- |p-lp anil t!.<- (Mtnforl which he n!way*
lion* t j t
To Ph- •!< li uiid Hu* /.rrv, th<- we.*k and the
ll*- I «i.and .»f tn rivi and love hum* *h,
A* •il a- tin- “Hi rantin’ ” know 11 to invn
And J 1 now if Hiirh work i* the nngrls’ i-m
p.oS.
Zi*' fTM/ feu'r ana h. l|» rad h*l in Ephnilni Joy.
inline It fn’itl 1 ' In (ItHhl < ll<‘< i
FILE WRONG MAN.
\h, h!ii<l Mr*. Pro Igilt,
II . < ili Higrd MllCf’ my <ln\ Wlj n I
vni» n ’dr!, lined it home and
)m in Un jr iu llnrw <b> tin- huiiftcwork,
nr>d pl* • Itedipldta, and <*ndn older line
vt il* h t <*ad of rnniii:.‘’’ d»-mt Inal! the
dirty Mi< i ami narrow him--, in < ren
tion ’ ’
Mi- 1 *t*g><i|gitt did not take kindly to
i, • deln <iv ih/titioii.
Kin- hu*l < up fr i Owl Brook to
vidt If • r«»ii<ln Mdn \iiu, who had
married 1 IJH ii<*/*-r Hard) a quarter of n
renrury ayo and Nftttied down in -w
Y<»rk, and, ahe I \pr<■****•<l herself,
“tli:ii , .”‘ Mvofiiqd to l»u all turned top-\
turv\. M
1..* (hum i I’mdgy. ’ "lid viurv,
Hattie Hard), win* wiw equipping her
uelf u th basket, big, parasol and water
i»io“f l-»ak, “it I* a work of inerey and
charity that w.- ar<- engaged in.”
• XoHMnsr! ' irritahix *r d Mrs. prod
gilt I think you’ve ail gone ern/y to
geth< . Ini surprised at you, Mary Ann.
(o let tic < hild go Ir.uiiping all over the
city i t herself. In mv day it wasn’t
<*un«ideivj
• Yo’i **ay truly that times have changed
»in< tian,” mildly uttered Mrs Hardy,
win v. ■. knitting tl.*< t y wool l»y, tip- lilt*.
”11 si.i’ , Hattie, that you num* early.
The i'W minister i* to Ik* h<‘n» tonight
til u. and It -Im \ can't br trusted with
Uei m v n t of mos- rose c hiua.”
I w«aid<'r what he is likef’ s.ud Hat
tie. a* she tied the deep blue strings of
h< > hut mt<» a <au|Ucttish bow under her
round chin. ’I do hope he’s young and
*M -leai! n mon strut <sl Mr*. Prai
gir.
• <». iim .“ added Hattie, *wetr w
that old Mi Pu*/h*t«»n was a |M-rfccl
naiiit i 11*me don’t like saints with nd
no*#' and spe taehs mal thn layer-of
d<*nU«- <hht m
M PllMiglt! h-Ok. d if xh«» ('X)M-* t
<*d that Hattie would be -tnn k by light
uing » n the -|H*t for that heretical re
mark.
' llht- et!“ was all that she could utter.
M It. * Mis*. Hardy, iiion nwiii*turned
f" th* audrti h»o* 'qtasrin s of h<t prefix
daughter, went on in he. purring, sing
aong tonw
IkuiiitMget that p• »r widow in Cob
la ■ Haiti A-. ’ \ou t Milo
K« ••• au -. I think it would Ih* well to
speak . nurd ill st awn to that gnat la. \
"«»n <t his, whois always buying lottery
r, ‘k b u ‘ * nothing to sup|H>rt the
ol |f . K s
M ye ' 1 ft) gUd Jotl mcntioin-d
Jd tt .’Ju*. nHWtM? im < ntiy un
h< r little tabic’.' Mein to give Jonas
Rvi -a pin o: m\ mind.* D<*:ir Mr
Pu inou always vn)d th-U that yawing
manVi> a dreadful -tunibling htbek ”
"Ami I think." went on Mrx Hardy,
‘ u*>: Uray sv-trrsc.ui find work kn
\ re Jcnmae 4 now. if she i>«tfii uuem*
p- rod ‘
•The which f *aid Mr- Pi-‘«lgitt.
•‘Tt* Gray *.strrs," e\plaim*d Mix
II inly. *‘t*ue ol our church
tiuio."
Mrs. Pro-1 gift gbired.
• h iirn any cud of thff folk nnd non- I
sens- of the present generation?’’ said *h<*. !
• I suppose,” laugb* *l Huttie, ••that in |
vour dav, Coudt; Prodgy. nolxxiy went
alum mtn/ f’’
‘•Wri.t w!i» r '' *uid Mr*. Pnxlgitt
“Ahimmintr!” di tlm tly rejaated Hat
tie.
“S‘;r nr «ns vi*itir*g the j*oor nn<i seek
ingout re.- f destitution,” exploited ■
Mr*. Hard; “Hattie my < hild. Ido
wish you uouhlrrt talk shiog.
Hnttle disapjH ar»'<i with a little I ! -f'Z
of laughter, while Mr- Prodgitt ttkd
h< r P* a tl< I-' and utt- red a deep grofin
“Mark my word*, Mary Ann, said
die. ~t hal girl will come to no gmni
“Hattie <i » * ftiot rn -in any hmm, |
C'»u*iii Prielg'tt.” mildly pleaded .Mr-,
liar ly, n* die knitted on.
While Hattie, on he errand of merry,
went from hour to lions - in the darkling
time* and < row led tenement district-,
leaving ti o»j': gr • *n t -nhrr - nn I a >
h - t .rr there, n Imttle of beef, wine and i
iron by a -i« k !»<•<!. a little rose a < nt‘ I
-niitT in a ien»r old woman * han<l, a pict |
lire book on the pillow of -ona- little j
(hild, a woolen toy in th delighted
grasp of a skeleton like infant, a gentle !
admonition in the '-ar of a willful facto -
ry girl, ami n word of comfort to cn our- |
a/e a d<-p tirim' widow.
Sin could l» guy and flippant enough
ulivn ‘•Cou'ai i-nxlgy’’ tcasc-il her, but
41X Tl t<> lIW HS«IWI-(1 U |WI i
*>nn!it' <ii"nity an<l cni'Hiv ..
Obl M : '> l: Il ■UHlva.lhi' ):i-( lioum I
foil Iler IM. She glnlieeil iw.ioiKly at
her unt< hax xhi- went in.
fivn," hire «:ii'l to h'T-elf. “I
in i I inal.' I.M or the dear little niani
nn will bi; frrtting.”
The <!u<il. <>f Um October evenin', had
alrra.lv darken' ■! th<‘little room, where
lay the path o', old sufferer from rhennia
li'in. 11 was alw.iV' neat mid cl>".:i lhei•<•,
lint m II ittie'- ryes it heen.ed more w|ila- j
lid and pov rty strii ken than u-nal to
night. As .he eanie around the eorner ■
of the door she p reeived a young man I
itting nt an uncovered pill" table i fig- I
u; -trough sill: ith tt d a;'.ii".-l lhe win- j
■ lon.
"Ah!" “aid -he. the pirit of righteous I
evisp: ration ri -in;'up in her heart. “I’ve
caught you at lasi in tile wry midst of
your evil jir.ietii e!''
The young man rose hurriedly to hi
fen.
"| beg your jr.rdon -" he began;
but the tide of Hattie's indignnlion was
not thus i a-ily Ktenuned.
“Don't !■ g my pardon." 'aid she;
“beg the pardon of society of public i
opinion of everything else which yon i
are outraging by this shameful behavior I
of yours. Apjiai'cntly you havi neither
pride nor M'lf respu t left -now take my j
nil .'ee; turn over a new le d'. Give up
I your evil practices mid set yourself to I
! earn n decent living. Look me in the i
eyes, young man !" she added severely ;
“ti ll me if you are not ashamed of your
self!"
To nil iippeaiaiiees, the culprit win
stricken dumb. Involuntarily lie rnised
a pair Os clear, lion st eyes to Hattie's
face, neeording t > ord is, but he did not
speak n word, good, bad or indilT'rent.
“He's nut bml looking." thought Hat
tie; “but 1 must not neglect the chance I
of niakmgnn impression. lam surprised j
nt you!" she mld.'d idoud; “u great, 1
nbli bodied fellow like you sitting dow n ‘
ns n disn putable incubus on your friends
nnd relatives. Don't you know that you
are Hie talk of the neighborhood Gel
up go to work! Never le’ me'ce you
I idling here again. No; don't answer me.
| 1 never enter into argument w ith the pen- |
ipl in my district. Logie is useless in a
I case like this,"
She burr: .1 t > old Milo, who being
! stmie deaf, looked smilingly on during ‘
■ this brief but energetic monolgue, as if I
it had been a recitation from Shakespeare. |
"Here’s sonic extract of beef for you, I
Mi If-m ia." ah - shouted in his ear; i
"ami . tumbler of lemon jelly! 1 hope I
, your lunbago is better. I'm sorry I can't |
I stay a little longer to-day, but I'll come j
i again very soon."
A id nodding an I smilling good-by to
him, she bustled away.
She arrived none too soon on the do
mestic tapis
II tsv had already broken one of the
nios- ruse tea cups, and spilled all the
salad dressing, so that Hattie had to go
to work to make more.
< ni'in l‘r>xlgitt had lost hei sp ctacles,
ind Mi* Hardy < vtilil not find her best
j hee frill.
t'ons,epn r.tly she was only half through
i in oi ug hei hair wh. u Mi- Hardv
< died up the stair i .Ise
"H.iti'i till niet ' Mr. Gray has , ,mi
She hurriedly coiled up the shining
broa.'i lea k', mid fastened them w ith a
shill pin, tied the Swiss mii'lin lam at I
| her throat, and. > itching up ta r |ax ket- '
handkerchief, ran Jow a- stairs.
CouMii l-i algit: was still ndiustinu her
I < :ipst ugs in her • wn issue,
Mrs. Hardy had gone down to six* if
I the tell was projXily me ping; and scour '
lieroini- walked din> tly into the present e
Jo( Reverend< <il Gnu.
“lain Mi*< Hardv,' Mtid *hc. “t Lk
: your|Nki\lotil hut——”
Hire she st Vppod, with the syllables of
| further speech fairly frozen on her tongue.
A cold chill crept through all her veins
as she recogmred the eurly brown hair.
t the i ear, honest cy cs, the thick uiustar he.
Hut tin H' V'-i *i;d < ■il Maserp.ial tl
I th': e>n< rgvncy.
’ ' “Don't beg iny pardon." aafil he,
gravelv, although there was a roguish
■ pnrkle in his eye«. "B'g the pardon of
-ocicti of public opinion. No, Miss
Hardv,' he cried, suddenly dropping hi»
• ol< rim man:'.'ristn, •‘don’t lra>k ho dis-
■ tressr-d. <>f course, it iw a mi-takc.
It.m't I know perfectly w 11 that it was.”
•Oh. ibar! <>’>. dear!" gras|x-d Hut
ti •. "I t lought it was Gilbert Hrneait.
I juv J. id MTU bi». you know, nnd it '
w»< so <l»rk, nnd - nmi
•■Ami soyoil scold'd the wrong man,’
said Mr. Grav. “ASell. 11l puss tin
lecture on to tl><- genuine offender nt tin ■
very tir-t opportunity, only l‘m afraid 1
< annot nnpluisiz- it half so neatly a> you j
did.”
“Oh, don’t," said Hattie, piteously !
lifting her little hand <. "Please don't/ ,
“No. I won’t," aid Mr. Gray. “We'll I
forget and forgive."
Ami when f'ousin Prmlgitt and M:-
Hardy came in Hattie and the young
ili rgvii.an were earn stly discussing th<
rival merits of the gt nniums on Mrs.
Hardv'- flower stand.
Mr I’rodgitt stayed until spring, anil
when “he went back home she told her
daughter that Hattie Hardy was engaged
l to a young minister.
“Or at least I suspicion she is." sin '
i add' d. “She won't owu nothin’ for- ir- |
tin: but things ain't new as they used to
be. Folks as was engaged to be married
I used to be proud of it. But Hattie's a:
I (ptecr giri. She hasn't been brought up,
I as girl 1 - were brought up in my day.” |
Dandies on Horscbat'k.
Th. baciei.'dado on horseback, writes a ■
correspondent to the Springfield Ji'imhli
r.i',. i- a picture usually conscious of it- ■
self, for these fellow ■ are born dandies, j
ami both men and animals are full of j
prancing life. The hor , s are noble crea ■
Hires,» whosiv lu-ts, have been rnagnifij |
cently dei'i />j ■ I by the r.irefield uir, and
the rid' r i.s athlr ti' mid a born horseman, i
He Wears a suit of black cloth, il short, ■
! nattily cut jacket with big silver buttons; I
a low cut waistcoat, or more often none
to hide his delict:', snowy ami frilled I
■ hirt ■: i l”- ■ I iloon- that Lear along i
lhe oufei -'jnu two row- of fancy “liver .
buttons; high-b-elc 1 and usually top
hoot- that end in silver spurs; ami a fajn
or sash of red arid other brilliant color to
biml the w.:i-t. Over the shoulder, or
across the raddle, which is a most orna
mental affair, is carried the bright scrape
that looks like an immense Roman scarf.
Th< hat completes the picture, and the
! ample proportions of that put ridicule
| upon the meagre head coverings of the
| North. The only fault to be found with
I the felt sombrero is its weight—but for
I some occult reason it never seems burden
some in the wearing. Buffalo Bill's hats
area libel on the genuine Mexican article.
■ His wide brim i all right, but this crown
ris■- to a dignity ami comliness much
like that which characterizes the head
gear of Mill- Morgan •on your Court
S.piare. But while Miles restricted him
self to sober black, the Mexican indulges
in all colors from a beautiful silver gray,
through browns to a gorgeous purple.
Idle i row n is encircled by a liver or gold
1 coni, often in three or even four coils,
and the brim is embroidered with a
I wealth in silver or gold trimming'. Straw
hats are of similar shape, and provided
with pulled bands of the -ame material.
Dangers from Goat’s Milk.
,\ correspondent writes: The BritiXi
Goat Society has held its half-yearly
meetings and the report states that the
committee have been able to supply goats
to cottage r< with very satisfactory re
sults. So far this is good news, for a
c mih-li goat is true tabic and gives a most
| abundant yield. But it is to be hoped
that the cccttagers will be careful of their
j milch goat', and will not allow them to
1 pasture nt large. The goat is proof
1 vgainst almost e very known vegetable
|>cison. Any one who doubts this may
! test the fact for himself, for there is
nothing a goat likes so much as a mouth
ful of tobacco. A goat whic h knows
that you have tobacco about you will
follow you anywhere and any distance
for it. And it is an unkind practical
joke to disturb the tranquility of a row of
chaises at th, seaside by the production
'of a tobaca o-poui h. The cow, as we all
know, from the time we first began our
nursery-rhymes, is partial to the "heni-
I ha k rank." and there have been eases of
poisoning from the milk of cow- that
have eaten hemlock. But the g.-at will
cat with impunity nut only hemlo> k, but
ye w clippings which me fatal Imth to
eovvsand home.'g bryouy. foxglove, and,
indeed, almost every poisonous plant,
lhe rc -ult is. of course, to p-ci-oa the
milk, and it is . onsc qttently to b< hoped
‘that the fnv ored cottagers will emtine
their goat' to swedes, v. tehes, cut grass,
ami other such hamile" 'libstancv', and
will not allow them to r am at largo,—
J'i .. ss tier.' ft..
Sitistled with his I’nrehaso
A man c ame into a cigar store, Isiught
a cigar, and threw a bad five-cent piexv
on lhe counte r. He wa- hurried!;, d<-
I parting w belt the deck r I ::ihd *!h r him;
"Hohl on. hold on, it*' bad!"
"Never mind." ar.'Wc red the pur
chaser, as lie cpiiekly passed out, "I'll
uuoke it anyhow." Acte }’e <X G <tner
tiai.
ALLIGATOR LORE.
A Florida Character who
Hunts the Saurians.
Living Among Them for Mouths and Fa
miliar With Their Habits.
Alligator Ferguson, s well known
h.irac ter in Florida, is the subject of this
, sketch. He has made a snug sum from
! tin teeth of the alligators he has killed,
:md is an espeit .a the Lusiucs*. Teeth
un- worth from fit toss a ponud. and
some times hcgathei d from six to eight
pounds in a single week. He never
! can cl anything for the bodies, although
tiny arc worth more than the teeth.
Ferguson did not confine his ojicnitions to
I any particular portion of South Florida.
| but from Tampa to Biscayne Bay, and
I from the saw grass fields of Lake Apopka
lo the shores of Okeechobee he created
' consternation among the scaly denizens
of the marshes, and he could lay claim to
having killed more alligators than any
other man living, lie male his bed
among them, ate among them, spent
many months among them as his only
companions, and it is probable that he
hardly ever thought or talked of any
thing but alligators. The gigantic snarls
and growl' with which they communed
t cgcther in early spring was the only mu
j sic which charmed his cars. At that
I time of the year he knew they could be
found in p airs and nr>r.; easily captured.
I He stayed among them so long that he
■ be. ame, as some people sai l almost
' amphibious. One man thought Ferguson’s
teeth were growing longer, and another,
' with an exceptionally keen pair of eyes,
was certain that the great hunter's skin
was growing rough and hard in patches,
preparatory to changing into scales. Fer
guson didn't care a cent what they said
! or thought about him so long as he could
■ kill big alligators and sell their teeth.
He always claimed that the alligators
,wi re i-ioi■■ plentiful, on Fish Eating'
Creek, but that their teeth were very
; mnch inferior t > those from other places.
On the gulf coast, he said, was the
b'.-.t place for real good teeth, and pro
fessed a preference for salt water ailiga
, tors. Those ihat liv- in -ait water are of
stouter build, and' the hstl'l is larger in
proportion to th: body than that of the
'fresh water species. S >nie people claim
that they are more ferocious than the
other, but Ferguson does not think so.
He i' an expert at decoying alligators
within range of his gun. He has away
of barking like a small dog, and when he
commenced that it would not be long be
fore their huge snouts would be 'ticking
out of the water. Another way was to
take a little dog or pig in his arms and
twist its tail so that it would yell and at
tract the alligators. A sereaming pig
i will excite the interest and attention of
any alligator, no matter how indolent or
| phlegmatic. Ferguson told me that he
wa hunting one spring morning near
Tohopekalign, r.'.id had brought a young,
fine blooded dog with him. Coming to
a deep, round pool, which formed a
small bay in the lake, he commenced
looking out for alligators, which he knew
were to be found in that place in great
quantites. The dog was a little too eager
for the sport and jumped into the water.
Ferguson said he tried to call him back,
but the dog was deaf to all remonstrance.
When he reached the middle of the nool
he began howling and struggling and
looked back appealingly to his master for
help. In a few moments the dog disap
peared and was seen no more. "Hit riled
me awfully,” said Ferguson, “to see mv
purp gobbled down in that away, and I
laid tor that ’gator. I wouldn't a-took
the purtic-t lif'y-dollar bill you ever saw
, for that dog, and 1 jest say-, to myself I
am goin’ to make them 'gators hop; and
1 (lid make 'em hop. I takes my lectlest
purp. and I wrings ami twists his tail un
twel he hollors like as if he was a-bein'
killed, and, first 1 knowed. out popped
the head of a whoppin" big 'gator. Then
another one of the big black imps poked
i his sassy snoot out’n the water, nnd hit
I vvarn't no time ’fore the pond was teeto-
I tally covered with 'em. 1 never seen so
many 'gators in the known world. I shot
! and shot and shot, until I was bodacious
ly out of breath, bn! I made tb- in imps
sweat. They cat up mv purp, and I
( wouldn't a-took a brand new tifty-dol
larbill for him, but I everlastingly pep
pen'd 'em for it."-—CAici.-gfl Tima.
Remedy far Hydrophobia.
People of t fa, Russia, have i cure for
hydrophobia of their own. Thev give
to bitten men and beasts a powder made
from a Hehl plant known on th- Volga as
drok, of which Geniata Tin' toria is the
scientific name. This powder is taken
on an empty stomach for thrv days, and
lone <losc on the ninth day Salt and
salty food spoil the effect of the drug. A
well-known family of land-owners ustxl
the inedii ine fur over forty yea is, and
saved owr four hundred men. women
and children affect' I with hydrophobia.
Distressing Intelligence.
"Is .lira Bullard hangiu' 'round these
parts nowaday'." aski-d a p s- uger from
a car wirnL-w of i D ikot i-etti/en.
' ",Mm was Mangin' ’rottud last week,
stranger.”
“Did you «ee hinit"
“Oh, yes: I had hold of the rope."—
Arte Feri tfua.
A i’ecall.ir Dis i Dree is.
The followin ' incident occurrel nt a
very early dat< in the history of Maine.
Among the new settlers of P. inaqilid was
one by the name of Alexander, who ac
cording to custom, was chosen as captain
to command the little company of men
which banded together for self-protection
ia those dangerous times. Now Mt-.
Alexander, living much puffed up by the
honor, must needs make a feast to cele
brate it. All her neighbors were invit
ed, some of the women bringing knitting,
others c oarse garments for sewing, and
still other' their “little wheels” on theii
backs, with a distaff of flax to spin, anc
all bringing babies.
< Ine can imagine what a merry compa
ny it was that gathered in the great log
kitchen, knitting-needles clicking, babies
crooning, and the flax-wheels humming
like a great swarm of liees in a clove’
field, while outside the newly-made cap
tain treated the men.
Over the tire and hanging from tin
huge iron crane was a big brass kettle,
boiling furiously and emitting a most fra
grant odor. There was a whispering
among the guests as to what their hostess
could be preparing, but all agreed that
if it tasted half as good as it smelled, it
would be good enough.
Dinner-time came, the knitting was put
aside, the babies were hushed to sleep,
and the wheels pushed back against the
walls. All gathered about the rough
table expectantly, and Mr«. Alexander,
with a look of triumph, passed to each a
goodly portion of the contents of the
brass kettle, well seasoned and garnished
with butter.
As it happened, one of the guests was
a rough old trader from Boston, and his
natural gruffness of disposition had not
been softened by his generous potations
outside. He looked at his dish curiously
for a moment, tasted it. made a wry face,
then shouted out, to tiie consternation of
the company, —
“Woman, how much o’ this stuff did
ye cook and butter? - ’
“Why, a pound?” said the captain’s
wife, somewhat incensed. “Pray, isn't
that enough?”
"Enough?” cried the trader. “Yes,
to kill the whole settlement, stewed in
yon pizen kettle! This is tea madam,
,/lzr drinking, not to be made into vile
greens!’’
An explanation followed, and Mrs.
Alexander, to whom the article of tea
was hitherto unknown, as also to her
equally ignorant neighbors, retired crest
fallen, yet we presume a much wiser
woman.— Youth's Companion.
h. Capricious Composer.
If the stories told of him are true,
Hans Von Bulow is getting crankier day
by day. It is related that during his
last concert tour, as he was about to take
his seat at the piano, he saw some very
plain women seated near the platform.
At that he walked off the stage, and to
his manager's inquiries and entreaties
said:
“Until those ugly women are removed
I will not play a note; so you may do as
you please about it.”
The manager stepped up on the stage,
announced that Herr Von Bulow hail be
come suddenly indisposed, and the or
chestra would piny a symphony which
was to have been played later in the even
ing. While the audience looked on in
wonder he had a number of palms and
shrubs from the conservatory near the
concert room placed between the plat
form and the audience. Then calling
Bulow to the wing the manager asked if
the view suited him. “Oh. yes, that’s
all right," quietly said the great musican,
"as long as I don't behold those monsters
of ugliness lam quite indifferent to my
surroundings.” And without any more
ado, the capricious composer went cn the
platform ami performed his share of the
programme.—3 tic York Sun.
On a Mexican Street Car.
Although the etiquette of a Mexican
street car is free and easy, and men
smoke inside or on the platform, women
are invariably treated with respect, and
half a dozen men will get up to give
place to any woman, young or old, rich
or )>oor. The Mexican gentleman has all
the courtesy for which the Latin races
are famous, and life is smoothed and its
unglvs rounded by the constant courtesy
of this most polite nation. Do not im
agine that because people smoke in the
street ear; their interiors re-emble the
American railway smoker—all tilth under
foot, and the air befouled with rank
cigars and old pipes. The windows are
generally open, nnd a constant current of
air drives the smoke out. -Boston Herald.
A Fable.
A sick fanner had an obstinate eow
which he wished to get to market. On
e insulting his neighbors he received the
i following advice: The carpenter said
Ik’<l have a screw driver; the furniture
man said let a bureau drawer; a small
boy offered to holler; the newspaper man
■aid let n editorial leader; the postmas
ter suggc-ted having a letter carrier: the
village t.'is r wanted to do his part, and
Offered to take a horn; the pickle vendor
thought a little gherkin would start her.
! 'I antimc the farmer expired of exhaus
| tion, and the cow died of grief.
! This fable teaches that the possibilities
j of the English language are great.— Life.
CIIIEDREX’S COi.UM.T.
Pop-lorn.
inv lumps of gold
Rattling in t he i®n.
Merry watch we keep;
Shake them all weedn.
See them, how they scatter,
Leaping o’er the top!
Hop, corn!
Pop, corn!
Pop! pip! pop!
Dancing eyes that gleam,
Rosy cheeks that glow;
Here the joyful spring,
AU without the snow
She the inUk-white+loraoms
Everywhere they
Hop, corn!
Pop, corn!
Pop! pip! pop!
—George Cooper in Young People.
the Exact Population.
“What is the population of the world,
papa?" asked fl-year-old Edith, who was
making up sums for herself on a new
slate.
“You must not interrupt me now,
Edith,” said her father, who was writing
at the same table. “Go to Miss Smith,"
referring to her governess. Iler father
was not so busy, however, but that he
heard and was amused by her saying in
a low tone soon after:
“I know how I can find out myself.
FH look in the back of th? geography
for the United States and for Europe,
and then I can add Aunt Mary's ami
Aunt Jessie's baby, and that will give it
to me exactly.”— Harper's Bazar.
XVhlch Wn« The ISrntel
An English sportsman in the Zoologi
cal Gardens of the queen became enraged j
at a valuable hound that had failed him
in some performance, and beat it and I
bruised it most unmercifully. To make
an end of the punishment he seized and
thrust the dog through the bars of a j
lion’s cage. He expected, of course, that
the beast would at once spring upon him !
and crush him as a thing of prey. But
what was his chagrin as he saw the lion
come up to the dog with a seeming look |
of compassion, and begin to lick his
wounds. II? then relented a little, and
thought he would like his dog again. So
he, changing his voice, called the bleed- !
ing animal by name to come out. But he I
did not come. He whistled for him very
familiarly, he coaxed very affectionately. ?
Already he had lain down beside the lion I
and seemed quite content with
his new, sympathizing friend. Still he j
called, then he commanded, then j
he threatened, then he stormed in ini- ;
petuous tone. The dog paid no atten- ;
tion to him. Just then the keeper came j
near. “Mr. Keeper, to punish my dog j
for displeasing me I put him into this \
cage and I cannot get him out. Will
you please help me? II? is a very valu
able dog, and I desire to take him away."
“You put him in the cage, did you?” "I ,
did, sir.” “Then, sir, you may get him
out.”
The Wax Dollar.
When Grandma Babcock went to visit
Aunt Ada she took Trotty with her.
Trotty was three years old and was very
fond of good things. She found out
very soon that there was a grocery and
provision store near the house where
Aunt Ada lived.
In front of the store hung two big
bunches of bananas. Trotty liked ba
nanas very much.
One day, when Trotty was playing out
on the front steps, her aunt, who was
very fond of her, leaned out of the win
dow and threw down a little package.
“There, Trotty,” she said, “go and
buy a banana.”
Trotty unwrapped the package 'ind
found two cents. She went to the store
feeling as if she had grown to be a very
big girl.
After that she wanted to go cvery day
to get bananas, and she soon spent all
the pennies her aunt had.
“I’ll have to spend my penny now,"
she said. “I found it in the sewing-ma
chine drawer, and I've been saving it.''
She went to her baby house, picked up
« little box, and then started for the
store.
The grocer took down the biggest
banana he had and gave it to her; but
he laughed when he looked at the money
Trotty put in his hand.
“See what that child gave me," he said
to Aunt Ada, when she was in the store
the next day.
Aunt Ada looked and saxv that it was
a big waxed dollar that she had made
years before when she was taking lessons
in wax-work.
And Trotty had thought it was a pen
ny, and had bought, a banana with it
Our Little Ones.
Heaven's Lamps.
A little 4-year old who had been toil
by her mamma that the stars «' ere
“Heaven's lamps." lying in her mammas
lap while the latter was sitting after twi
light on the front pon h said :
"Miunnia, less do in der woom.”
“Wait a little wliile, baby," said the
mother.
"No! no!" replied the little one;
do now.”
“Oh, it's dark in the room, baby.”
“Well, lite de lamp."
“It's too soon, daughter.”
“No, "tain’t. mamma." and looking ,l
the stars said: “LNm't on see Doi’s done
lite Hees lamps?' - -Detroit Free Friss.