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A CLERK'S ROMANCE.
Tha Story <<r T wo Traaaury
Dfjpartnioui Employes.
A Divipitod Yo**ng Man'* Reformation
Followed by a Kern ige.
“The life of * Govertiment c lerk ia at
boat a monotonous on*-, :m in nearly all
the departments til • <l<rk’ have the
aatne routine work 'lay after day,'' Bold a
venerable Treasury clerk, •‘and when
there i’ a lilt of q up to relieve the
monotony of hi’ life it i-i Ink n tip with
a relish and retold till it blo**orn’ out in
many different forim "
What ia disDub.ng tlx monotony I
nows” inquired 111- reporter.
“Well, I am getting to that Sx ,
yr.un ago la«t Marell a bright, "yed, rosy ■
clieoked young fellow of 22 received an
appointment through political influence |
in the division lam employed in. You
kuAw Ilin' In f r the days of civil
mrvxi reform. Hi w>. quir k -nd in- •
telligr'd, ami it WO’ hot I - 'ig lie! it hi
«M familiar with tho work an the oldest
derk in llio olli. r, For a y• ar or so he i
was a moat etln rent clerk, and always !
on time. With sorrow I began to
notice that lie nai becoming
<lis«lpatol; that hi’ work w.i- behind,
and iusteiid of the frank, independent
expression tlait he had when he first ;
came in the office was a careless devil |
muy-cire < >rt of a look. I remonstrated
with him, an I told him he wool I b<
dismissed, and justly, too, il he did not
■hake th comp uiioiu ho was associating '
with. Ilia only reply would l>< ‘l<.ui
take earn of in'. .If, you me I n’t fill
alxmt nii’.' His downfall didn't sur
prise.nir much, for I had seen a nunilier
of young men *o in t his wav who hud
come in the departments honest, solx'i
young fellow i, and leave it Icokeu ''own
in health, an I < arelcss ns to Inn they
in d- tliuir livin ■ 'I bin .s went on this ;
way milil the present a lininistration
< ana into power, and the heads of tin
al iff rent bureaus wire clinnged. t n .
■' q . idly a greet number of new clerks
• nine in. Among tlx <■ was a pretty
young Indy with large brown eyes and a
las* innt ng smile. Tin- clerks, both male
and female, itmiii'diutcly took to her, and
ale bis ame a, > n-ral favorite. The young
mrii tn the olll* o never lost an opportu '
sidy to have a few minutes chat with her, |
but that is ns far its it ever went. Though
■ln treated all pleasantly, none wire
ever Invited to < all on her. Tim young
fellow I spoke about had gotten so that
hi a Idoin had anything Io say to nny
in > hi Um course of time he Hindi) the i
a< quaintnnco of the pretty young clerk,
and that evening one of the older ladies,
with the best intentions in the world,
told the young Indy not to gel too inti !
m ile with that man, as he was considered
n •rounder,’ or, in other words, dissi
pated.
•'Hue said Im liked him, and thought
tln ri was a giont deal of good in him if
he had tliu pro|ar encouragement. IL
aeetned to bn a gentleman, and that if he
did anything wrong it was only through
l alv'.essn. w. After this the two young
people were together constantly when
not at the office, and n most wonderful
change caino over him. He stopped I
drinking, attended to his work with n ,
will, and, when not somewhere with
her of an evening, stayed in iiis room I
mid read. I was plean'd to note the j
change, mid knew that all would como
out wall. Hho had only been iu the
office about six months when he came
to m< one day and said Im was going
io resign, a- Ids salary was not sutli
s-rnnt to support a wife ns he would ■
like to, uni that he had secured
n position as bot>kkec|>er in a '
wholesale grocery hou-c in New York.
He went away and I heard nothing from
him. Wu often spoke of him nt the ,
office, but no one ever dared to ask the
voting lady clerk about him, for they re- |
rnemtarod how alic went for tho old lady
■who spoke of him to her. Several weeks
ainci 1 was suiprised when the young
la<ly eumo to me, as the young man had
before, aud said she would bo pleased if
1 would send her resignation to the Sec
retary 1 asked her ukingly if she was
going to Iw married. She bhishingly ad
mitt si she Was. but would not say to
whom. I aiispcct< I and tell pleased.
This morning she and her husb.tnd called
to v ,i me, ami it proved to be the young
man I suspected. II ■ told me that he
bad i»en very fortunat • nines leaving
the office, and w u» now head bookkeeper
for the concern t > which he w it from
the department, and attributed nil his
success to the pretty young bride at his
•ide. They left this < veiling for New
York, where henceforth will be their
home. It does my heart good to see a
marriage like that."- - II ishiugt >n B *-3-
itesx. ____
Nuno for Him.
The frequency with which Alpine
tourist* fall from tops of almost inaeces
•ilile ni 'iuraius and get killed is very
distressing aud monotonous.
Au American in bwitxerland was in
viuni by an enthusiastic English crank,
who was everlastingly climbing moun
tain peaks, to accompany him on one of
these foolhardy trips.
“No, 1 thank you,' was the reply, “I
stray away front places that a donkey
oan’i oliinb."— birtiega
The Tr •« afJapao.
The trees of Jjpau arc a wonder.
Here is the •Tnookur.gi,” with its pnrpb
Iwll-shapcd flower*; also the magnolia,
with its rich white aud purple duster..
Qin > n among the trees towera the ca
tnelia. S-im- of these are sixty feet high
and are covered with blossoms from
.1 ii'iivry to May. of many varieties, from
tlx- larg< purr- white, r> ••> tnbling a'ioubb
rr “r, to various sh ides of pink ami red. '
Tin' cherry arid plum trees are cultivated
soh ly for their bloa-oms and are tree** of
rate bi'iiuty. Tin former grows thirty
feet high rind many broad, its branchat
roven 1 with rerl ami white flowers two
inch sin diameter nnd perfuming tlx .
air at n great distance. Its petals ol ,
snos and cream, f illing in showers, I
spread many a < irpi't for the Let on the
stone pnths lending to the temples, ver:-
fying the native poet when he says j
' T here are snow -showers which do not :
ih •<■> ml from tin skies." The plurn tree
i ; par cxi ellcru i' the poi-t’s tree. Often
it i sei n standing lend'-s in the snow,
yet adorrn d wi’h blossoms like i bride.
Th' » >0 bui-i into oft clouds of bloi.rn
ind fragrance in I'ebni'iry.
Along' the billsidi's maples mid pirn s
.'ii>-> >vri d withvinesof exquisite love-j
lines*-, t railing' and intei wining with be-;
wild* ring iutt oy ; among these are th
wistaria mil tliurnlx-rgia, with their*
purple i ii- and tufts. I’roiu the ver
dant v illeys to tin top of the mountains .
iw "ti lilies, pinks and roses of endless
var.' ty. The eras, is «tud<lt'd, and flow- I
ers spring iwcn from the quaint, artistic
thatch' d roofs of the tea-liouses, asking
leave only to grow nnd bless th • light.
Th' sc t'."t hoiiv s seem idyllic. They arc '
n national institution, for they are every
where, us the people are everywhere;
.ii n; the cit y strc< I-, by the roadside,iu |
the grove.*, woods, parks, valleys, nnd
up the mountain ►! it-. -Brocklyu Ui'jit-
I
Tnkl ig Care of Animal I'cl’.
There are si veral places where birds,
dog Mind cats arc tak* n in mid eared for,
and tho e who have a reputation for ,
c iri fulncss make it very profitable, says I
.1 N IV York letter to the Troy Titnen.
One bud dcidi i’s store was studded with
cages, each containing a pot nnd each •
duly labeled to <• irrespond with the re
ceipt which is always given and always
required when the cage is taken away.
|>.i;-s lire <ai i-I tor nt the dog fanciers’,
and the nnimals are leashed under aahod, i
and an oec isioiially taken out for exer- 1
One of th,' m ist successful |ht
soiis iii thii business is n woman who has ,
a w il-i stablished r -potation, nnd is
therefore > xteusively patronized. Sh<
< hnrgi ♦** a mouth for < ats and from s!>
to sls lor dogs. Birds arc cheaper, and
a canary is boarded for $2 a month, ;
while mocking birds are $5. This wo- ,
man's husband docx most of the work,
and chum- to be a doctor for both ani
mals ami birds. They feed the cats
milk and fish, with minced liver ami oc
casionally boiled rice. Dogs are fed
bread and milk, soup mid meat in small |
quantities, ns it bents the blood. “Dog 1
crackers” (is they are called) are exten
sively used. They an- made in Englnml,
anil large quantities arc now imported.
Tin' birds get seed, crackers, eggs and ;
apples. The food is constantly changed, I
this being favorable to health—and if a '
pet should unfortunately die it is im
mediately stuffed. This establishment ;
will probably clear SIOOO for the past
season, and yet how few have any idea
that such a business exists.
A Cruel Op,'ration.
At a street corner in Naples will bo
found ■•) subject for Mr. Bergh. There is
a bird shop there w ith nightingales,gold- \
finches ami robins. Sometimes a crowd
1 of gamins is collected to witness a little
I -urgic il operation. S me charcoal burns ;
iu a braaiero, ami the operator thrusts
Unto it a ueedlo with u wooden handle.
1 IL' then takes from u cage a recently
caught blackbird, and with a red hot
ncedl. puts out his ey. a It needs much ,
-kill skill that only conms from practice
‘ -to do this auecessfully. An unsteady
hand would permaturely kill the bird.
In most instances, where the operation
is successful, the birds do die, but that is '
only after a couple of drys of agony. 1
YiU will sec tlw patients in cages hang
ing round the shop, with the sightless
iyes swollen to tho size of a pea, but in ,
1 the rare cases of recovery the bird sings
1 briskly through the twenty-four hours,
I day and night being the same to it.—
, A, u- lull; .Sf.ir.
A Farmor’a Tools In India,
In India a farmer’s tools ara of the
simplest kind. Tho plow is ~ triangular
piece of laxird, 18 inches 1 ng and six
inches wido at the base, ami simply
roots the ground. Tho yoke for the
bullocks is a straight stick and is at
tached to the beam of tho plow by a
grass cord. The cattle are the Brahmini
■ species white, ab-nder bodied, long
j legged and very lean. The only food of
j the Cattle for months is “choosa,” which
i is the wheat straw and chaff from the
threshing floor. Tmy cost about £1 to
j£4 per pair, aud the plow cost Is Ski.
! The land is plowed at least ten times,
and frequently thirty, as the plow
scratches tho soil only. The harrow is a
log or slab of wood 6 to S feet long,
drawn aldeways across the fields to
scratch the lumps.
A OUEERSOCIETY.
The Wark of a Cigar.—Tip-
Saving Association
Callecting and D sp sing of C gar Ends in
the Interest* of Charity.
N 't long ago th'! iiv ingc America ■
< iti/ n bit off ->i cutoff the small end of
h ■> < iir, bi foro lighting, and thr. w it
away. isinc' an internal stamp duty
wis plate I o:i cigars, and their prh hr
ml vaneed at a < ouseipi 'nec, he do s no
generally tlispoc of the ends in this w ..
On the counter of nearly every plan'
where t igers are sold is a little machine
for ci ttii>2 off the end before Ihcamoker
places the cigar in his mouth. The tip,
fall into a rm' pt ide, from which they are
colic, te l at the cose of each day. In
some cases they are ijisposcd of to p< r
sons who smoke pipe’, nnd in others they
are «<>ld to manufacturera of line-cut or
gr.-mulateu smoking tobacco.
Sto< kholm is th* hciidqu irters of a
b nevolcnt cigar-tip-saving association,
ol which th* King of Sweden is presi
dent. All members of this society pro
vide th* ni' .'lv -s with an apparatus for
< utting off th, ends of cigars, with wh >
is combined a box for holding the frag
ments. This is carried in tho pocket
and can. if desired,bo attached to or ma le
a part of a < igar cue. At convenient
tiin* - th'- contents of the little box are
emptied into a suitable receptacle, kept
at home, and tow ard the eml of the year
the < ntire colieotio.'i of cigar-tips is for
warded to Stockholm. There they ar
sold at au* tioii ami the proceeds em
ployed in providing a :-umptuous banquet
for poor children. At this banquet,
which Hsu illy i * -urs nt Christmas or
New Year-, the:, -is an illuminated tree
on which presents for the poor children
arc plac' d. Branches of this association
have been established in Germany and
Great Britain during the past few yaars,
. nd the revenues of th*' society an- now
very large. It is now proposed to form
a similni as-ociation in the I nited
States.
In v* ral European countries charred
r-igar “stumps” have a commercial value.
They are bought by shepherds for mak
ing a il.ca tion for killing insects on
sheep. florists also buy them for the
purp"-*' of burning irt green-houses or
for st,'< ping in water tiiat is used for
syringing plants infested by ants or other
iu-c. ts. Some gardeners employ them
for making nicotine water, which is said
to hasten the growth of certain flowering
plants ami to cause them to put out
very large blossoms.
In Paris, m.cordiug to Le Temps, < ol
it clin. th “stumps” of cigars and cigar
ettes Is an industry in which several
hundred persons of both sexes arc regu
larly engaged. To be successful in this
business it is necessary to be up early and
late. Late at night, discarded rolls of
tobucc i can be seen by the fire on
them. Tin collectors accord
ingly throng theatres, opera-houses, con
cert saloons, restaurants and wine shops,
reaily to pick up the fragments of cigars
and cigarettes that th*' natrons of thes ■
places throw into the street. The boule
vard* and parks arc visited early every I
morning long b.-fore the sweepers make,
tin ir rounds. The remnants collected
an- sorted during the day anil spread out
oti piqa r to,dry. Some of the lino to- 1
b.'icco is made over into cigarettes. A
portion of it is converted into snuff. The '
leaves in cigars, deprived of the ashes
and burned portions, arc sold for smok- '
ing in pip -. The waitersfin restaurants
ive the cigar and cigarette ends left on
plates and sell then; to dealers or utinu
fa,'turer<. Thus hundreds of people pro
vide themselves with the necessities of
life in saving the remains of the luxuries
of the rich. (h - uja Times.
productive Roitghuess.
If w s'ek to.' the places where men
hav gamed least front nature, and are
n. degraded, intellectually, morally j
and ■ p.i ;t.;:illy, we shall generally find
them to Li-th - places where nature has
b, ii most profuse in her gifts, most
luxuriant, in her productiveness. In
th- favored regions the savage catsand
drinks and sleeps his life away in lazy
sensualism, while in less kindly lands
where a substance has to be forced from
the barren soil, and wh re th,' forces of
I nature war continually on human kind,
num nris, -as a king over nature, makes
her for. i s subj ct to his uwa purposes,
and wins from h r her most jealously
I gtiarde I treasures. So true it is that
th'-m >st promising ti-Ms of human es
; fort are not those which are externally
the most attractive. -SunJ iy School
1 \>iwe.
He L’fl Hastily.
Suitor- -Mr. Hoggs, 1 hare coui'toask
for your daughter.
Boggs Very well! When do you
wait her!
Suitor At once. I do not want to
i wail at rd!.
Boggs Well, I xuppow you want all
' that lu lotigs to her, tool
Suitor Os course. Everything that
, prrtaia* to her s sacred in my eyes.
Bogg»--Ail right! Here are her bills
! for the past mouth. Milliner, $97;
I dressmaker, $220-
- But the suitor had melted away.—
i A’,: riMec.
LADIES’ DEPARIMEST,
Tim iMte’i SfsS.ir Freak
‘The antique lantern that shed its
dim rays out upon an almost nnperceiva.
bla space of darkne«s to the satisfaction
of our forefathers is the latest fashion
able relic of antiquity for parlor decora
tion on the market to-day," sail] the
bead of a L'uion square silver house to a
reporter of the New York Mnil nnd Kt
prets. The reporter gazed upon the
sncierit-styied tire bug with interest for
some minutes, nnd concluded that it was
not an unsightly ornament for the parlor
after all. It is square in shape, ami is
made of a dull silver-like material. Each
side is perforated anil is adorned w ith
three large opals aud agates of various
colors. With the lights streaming
through the hundred little holes and the
illuminated gla*’ eyes the scene is effec
tive. H ben it differs in point from the
old lantern is that it derives its light
from a small oil lamp, though the candle
can be u e*l if preferred.
yiarrird or Niuicle.
Mr. ( uurlqf. Dudley Warner’s humer
us presen'ations in llarf>- r'» Matjaiinc ol
the difficulty in continuing a woman's
tdentity w ith her maiden name, after it
-. merged in that of her husband, calls
ittention, incidentally, to a real difficulty '
,n deciding, when a woman is to Ire ad
dressed by letter, as to w hether she is
married or has been married. This will
be recognized as having often occasioned
embarrassment, and sometimes ludicrous
anil even awkward results. A charming
young lady of this city not long since,
who had hardly reached her teens, found
a letter in the post-office directed to her
with the address of B. II >bart, Esq. (we
do not, of course.give the real surname).
The greatest difficulty in the matter is
that single women arc often offended in
having it supposed that they are married,
and married women arc in a worse state
of mind, if possible, at the suggestion
that they are in a state of single blessed
ness. The Springfield sug
gests that it i’ allowable and proper for
every woman, in addressing a stranger,
to sign herself with her proper title in
parenthesis before the name. It hold’,
Indeed, that to omit it, in fact, is hardly
proper. Time will be required to edu
cate women to the point of realizing
this, Lot it will be an aid to others and
may save them’elves some mortification
if they take this course. Bustoii ILrald.
Tl»c First Woman*'*
The first club composed of and designed
exclusively for women was founded iu
London ten years ago by a clergyman’s
widow, who saw the need of such an
organization for her sex. Its members
now number 200, including the March
ioness Abergavenny ami th*- Countess
Bectiv’e and Guilford, who are sufficient
to give it tone in England. The initia
tion fee and annual dues are each two
guineas; members having the privilege
of introducing kinswomen by blood or
matriage at a guinea a person. It is
considered quite aristocratic, scrupulous
care being taken io look after antece
dents, but not the private morals, of all
applicants. Tin- Ah xandr.i. is another
fashionable club, which mi n arc never
permitted to enter, even as guests or
visitors. Those women only are eligible
who would be admitted to the queen’s ■
draw ing rooms. It began w ith 200 mem
ber’, and now has 500. Initiation and
dues are two guineas. The Alexandra
has bedchambers, where members may
make their toilet for the evening or may
stay for a limited period nt a stipulated
price. It is two years old, and flourish
ing. The Somerville is a club for work
ing women: annual dues, five shillings;
no initiation. Lectures, debates and
other entertainments occur every week,
when all subject’, except theology, are
discussed. It is eight years old, has 1
1000 members, ami is exceptionally pros- |
perous. It is said to have done a great i
deal of good, and will do much more.
A Hnlttlnir llMluatry.
Miss Augusta .lane Goold, Kingston, !
writes to The Irish Textile Journal witli i
respect to the knitting industry which ,
she has established on her late father's I
estates in the County Limerick. “It ;
has been, on the whole,” she says, “very :
successful. I began the industry in the
summer of 1884, being desirious of pro- :
viding sonic remunerative employment
for the eotter women, who had a good
deal of idle time on hand, and whose i
ragged apparel betokened habits of un
tidiness as well as poverty. I was '
anxious to give them regular occupation
in some kind of needlework, aud after
inquiries in Limerick as to what was
likely to obtain sale, I set them to work
upon handknit socks. They were gneatly
delighted at the prospect of earning
something, and flocked in to get the
work. Their first efforts were decidedly
primitive, but after a little while they
began to improve; and although the first
consignments of socks sent to Messrs.
Macßiruey, of Limerick, were not very
well shaped, yet they all sold off, and
the manager, who was much interested
in my attempt to establish a cottage in- :
duskry, gave further orders. I took i
great pains to teach the j>oor women to
knit carefully, impressing on them that
to obtain custom they must make their ,
' work worth purchase. By degrees they j
, became quite expert, and by dint of
much instruction, end constant superia
i tendence of their work for seven months, I
i they attained a degree of proficiency
which was mod crebitablc. They soon
1 began to take the greatest interest in
their employment, and the r intelligence
an*l enthusiasm enabled them to improve
so rapidly that the Athae wares have
now attained a high reputation. The
knitttsrs can mat;*' various articles, but
they exeel in socks and stockings, for
which tlier.* is more sale than for caps,
shawls, or jerseys.
Inffiu llngll«h liitrheu.
Just outside the gate and across the
wav from the shop of the potato and
pork merchant’s there stand’, as it has
stood for a couple of centuries, the old
Eab.taff Inn, writes Catherine Cole from
Canterbury, England, to the New Or
leans Pi cay une. AVo went in under the
sign through a low doorway, overgrown
with ivy. At the end of the hall was a
lovely old kitchen with a floor of cool
tiies and a gorgeous dinner service ot
purple, red, blue and gold displayed in
wide racks against the wall. A bright
fire was burning, the red coals glowing
between the bars of the grate, and a vast
deal of cooking was going on. The ket
tle was boiling with a fussy effusion like
that of a comfortable, home-keeping,
; good-hearted, motherly woman, bustling
; about to get things ready for her good
man aud the children. A leg of lamb
was roasting before the fire. A string of
thin iron chains, I believe it was, was
fastened from the mantel shelf, and from
the other end hung the meat, dangling
directly iu front of the grate bars. A
plate was s«*t underneath to catch the
drippings. 1 had a bit of that lamb
with some mint sauce for my dinner, and
1 can attest that it was most excellent
eating. 1 wish I had some at this mo
ment.
A trim young woman, wearing the
wiiitest of mob caps, the cleanest of
white aprons, stood before the fire broil
ing a chop. She had a long-hand led,
double tin broiler or gridiron in her
hands. The chop was shut up in this,
and she patiently held it before the fire
as we would hold up a wet towel to dry,
turning it round now and then; and
what with the tea kettle, the busting of
the skin of the leg of lamb, the sizzing
of the savory < hop, most comforting, if
deafening, noises filled the cosy room.
The girl turned a rosy face at us and
smiled comfortably. The smile, the
goodly ol<l kitchen, the rows of delf on
the wall, the nodding red hollyhocks out
in the garden, tin' recollection of that
swinging jolly old Falstaff, of thccharm
ing windows and deep window seat’,
warmed inc to the heart with enthusiasm.
Kaslilon Notes.
New French frocks arc exceedingly
picturesque.
Little girls’ frocks are made charming
ly loose and full.
Skirts arc worn very short, aud shorter
behind than before.
Sashes of cmbroidercl silk or velve
are exceedingly’ rich.
Epaulets of jets are worn with either
long or short sleeves.
White luce is to sup Tcedc the cream
tint so long iu fashion.
According to fancy, the sash may be
tie I at the back or at the side.
Gray gloves are worn with black toil
ets. They are embroidered with black.
One piece, flowing elbow sleeves are
coming in vogue for dressy gowns.
llich embroideries from all nations arc
in high vogue for plastrons and Fedora
ves’s.
French frocks are gather d and puffed
where English gowns are p;rated and
plain.
The low bunch of curls is the latest
coiffure for young ladies. The bang is
also curled.
Insertions of wide velvet ribbon make
i the trimmings of many of thr* most styl
. ish costumes.
All sorts of short jackets to be worn
' with waistcoats are fashionable, and will
I continue to be.
' Ribbon remains in favor for trimming
! dresses, aud is used for sashes, belts,
i bows and loops.
English gowns am made iu severely
' sitnpie styles, but are exquisitely fitted
and well sewed.
Gray watered silk is combined with
hawk cashmere aud black cam-I's hair in
! gowns for elderly ladies.
I'uder-pettiejats of silk in dark and
■ light colors, white an 1 black, are made
with gathered pink flounces.
Sashes of woo,Hen material, correspond
ing to the dress with which they are
worn, arc trimmed with embroidery or
fringe.
Rough camel's hair fabrics, plain,
striped, plaided and cross-barred, are
among the favorite dress goods for tailor
made frocks.
The most elegant Parisian women re
fuse to wear very prominent bustles, but,
for all that, there is a threatened revival
j of crinoline.
Waists are long, but postilions and
pointed fronts are short but acutely
peaked, while the corsage is cut very
short over the hip line.
Bright yellow in small quantities bids
fair to take the place of or sh ire the fa
, ror with vivid red, so long popular as *
; brightener of dark toilots. _____
CHILDREN’S COI.IMX.
Antunin Lffiavas.
Crbn.«»u arid xcarht and yellow
Emerald turning to go’.d.
Shimmering there in the sunbeam-..
Shiver ng here in the cold;
Waving farewells as tin tempon
RutlJes-ly tears them a;*ai-t.
Fluttering, dan mg and rust ing
As tilth •)• ami thklier they dart;
P,« kle-sly sailing th • ripids.
laizily su imnung the poo!*,
Plaving "I spy!” w.th each other
Under tlie puffy toadstools.
Wreaths for the wall’ nt her dwellin'-
Each neat little houiekeeper weave.'
And then*, amid de iea e fern sprays,
Nestle the bright autumn leaves.*
—E. L. Benedict in Youmj Pe V j,i r
A Rraulirnt l.eseon.
Five hundred years ago there was fi v .
mg in Italy a great poet of the name ol
Petrarch. There came on a great trial
a number of people had to give witness
and thev all liad to t ike an oath before
doing .so. Petrarch came to bear witness
but they said of him. “you need not
make Lun take an oath. He will be sun*
to tell the truth.” So they did not make
him take an oath, because everybody
knew how true he was.
UteUK ou I.ike h Heaven
When re))- J’om was six years old, he
went into the forest one afternoon t**
meet the hind man, who was coming
horn* with load ot wood. The ntau
placeil Mas'.'r Tommy on the top of the
load, ami drove homeward. Just beforr
reaching the farm, the team went pretty
briskly down a steep hill. When Tomm ,
enter* i the house, hi’ mother said:
“Tommy, my dear, were you not
frightened when the hones went trotting
so swiftly down Crow Hill ?”
“Yes. mother, a little," replied Tom,
honestly : “I asked the Lord to help me,
and hung on like a beaver.”
Sensible Tom' Why sensible : Because
he joined working to playing. Let his
words teach the life lesson; in all trou
bles, pray aud hang on like a beaver: by
which I mean, that while you ask God
to help you, you must help yourself with
all your might. Yviiny Pilgrim.
Norwegian Hospitality.
In no land is hospitality more open
handed and more unaffected than in
Norway, and though these features arc
naturally becoming blunted along the
beaten lines of travel, the genuine good
ness of heart, fine “gentlemanly” feel
mg, and entire absence of that sordid
ness which is so often seen even in priv
ative regions, cannot fail to strike th*
unnrejudiced observer. Nor is etiquetti
ignored by even the rudest of the people.
In the cities the stranger is apt to make
many blunder-*. In the country, how
ever, this rs not less marked, though
perhaps the visitor will be less conscious
of its presence. One of the peculiarities
of the Norwegian farmer is that, wher
visiting a friend, he must ignore ail the
preparations made for his entertainment.
He will see the coffee roasted, and th'
cups set out, and then, just when th*
good wife is about to offer him her hos
pitality, he gets up, bids the family
good-by, aud is only persuaded to re
main after some resistance. Every cu|
must be filled to overflowing, otherwise
the host would be thought stingy. Wher
milk, brandy or beer is offered, the guest
invariably begs that it will not “bi
wasted on him,” and then, after empty
ing the cup, declares that “it is toe
much”—going through the same formal
ities, it may be, three or four times. Io
the farmhouses, or upland “saeters” the
guest is left to eat alone, silver forks and
spoons being often substituted forth(
carved wooden ones used by the family,
and a fine white cloth for the bare board:
which serves well enough on ordinary
occasions. To a punctilious guest this
may not be a drawback, for at th*
family table, a’, indeed, among th*
peasants in Scandinavia everywhere, th*
different individuals dip their spoon*
into the same dishes of “grod” and sour
milk; but for any one desirous of study
ing a people a load of foreign prejudice
is a grievous burden to cany about
Wh* n a child is born the wife of every
neighbor cooks a dish of “flodegrod'
(porridge made with cream instead of
milk), an 1 brings it to the convalescent,
there being a good deni of rivalry among
the matrons to outdo each other in the
quality and size of tiie dish. When any
one has taken food ia a Scan linaviar
house he shakes hands with the host and
hostess in rising from the table, anc
says: “Tnk for mad” (“Thanks fo>
food”), to which they reply: “Veil
bekomme” (“Jlay it agree with you’*.
In many parts of Scandinavia all the
guests shake hand’ with each other and
r peat the latter formula; and in Nor
way, at least, it is the fashion for 8
guest to call on the hostess a few dayi
later, and when she appears to gravely
say: “Tak for sidst” (“Thanks for las*
time"), great gravity oa this formal
visit being a mark of good breeding.—
Peoples of t 'ie World.
How He Escaped.
Doctor—" What is that scar ca you*
leg, Mr. Bank!”
Patient- "A dog bite received in boy
hood. ”
“Goodness gracious! Didn't you g«*
the hydrophobia?”
“No, I hadn't heard of hydrophobia ’I
that time.’’— Omaha World.