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x THE CAGED BIRD. 1
'A year ago I asked you for your soul;
I took it in my hands, it weighed as light,
As any bird’s wing, it was poised for
flight,
It was a wandering thing without a goal.
I caged it, and I tended it; it throve;
Wise ways I taught it; it forgot to fly;
It learnt to know its cage, its keeper; I,
Its keeper, taught it that the cage was
love.
And now I take my bird out of the cage,
It flutters not a feather, looks at me
Sadly, without desire, without surprise;
See, I have tamed it, it is still and sage,
It has not strength enough for liberty,
It does not even hate me with its eyes.
—Arthur Symons, in Harper’s.
Psychical Research
HE American girl sat next
.-»<• J? Professor Denman. On
C CJ his other side sat the host,
* * J* then came Mr. Forester,
then Mrs. Murchison, then
Colonel Hooke, then a young man of
no significance, then the American
girl. The table was quite still.
“Say, do you think it’s asleep?” in
quired the American girl. “Somebody
give it a kick and tell it to get busy.”
“We have not been sitting ten min
utes,” observed Professor Denman.
“You must have some patience,
Alice,” said Mrs. Murchison. “Re
member, most of us have never at
tempted before.”
“Well, I have,” rejoined the Amer
ican. “I suppose I’ve been turned out
of the circle for making fun at a
dozen table-turnings up home. We had
a craze for it one winter, and some of
us could make the table step lively;
but it never would shift a half-inch of
its own accord so long as I was in
the crew. You see, I never could get
to feel serious about it. It used to
make the other girls real mad.”
"Well, I am responsible for our mak
ing the present experiment,” said the
professor mildly, “and I must apologize
for the lack of results. Shall we try
a little longer?”
“I have heard,” remarked the host,
“that sometimes a table that has made
no motion whatever of a rotary kind
will yield to the method of asking
questions and knock on the floor in
answer to them.”
“Three times for ‘Yes,’ once for ‘No,’
I suppose,” remarked Colonel Hooke.
“Just so,” said the professor. “Well,
shall we try it? Mr. Forester, I sug
gest that, just for a beginning, you
fomiulate in your mind a question an-
ntrate your wlufe thought upon it for
a short time, While we sit with our
fingers touching as before.”
“What, me?” said young Mr. Fores
ter in confusion. looking up at the pro
fessor. He caught the eye of the
American girl, who was turning a
limpid and sympathetic glance upon
him. Mr. Forester suddenly straight
ened himself in his chair. “All right,”
he said, “I don’t mind.” The American
looked at him curiously; then smiled to
herself.
“Ready?” inquired the professor.
“Yes? Now’ffix your mind on the ques
tion: and everybody else please try and
take a real interest in the experiment.
.We’ll give the table five minutes.”
“Not wanted,” observed the host, as
the little table rose slightly on two
legs and rapped back on the floor;
once, twice, three times.
“Gad! I’ve never known it more
prompt with the best of the mediums,”
said Colonel Hooke. “How’s that, For
ester?”
“First rate, thanks,” replied the
young man, who had suddenly grown
red in the face. “But I say! Os all
the astounding ”
“Shall we continue?” asked Professor
Denman, in a tcne that betrayed none
of the enthusiasm every one expected
from him at the first success of his
hobby. “I’m afraid this is rather
wearisome work for the company.” He
half rose.
“Oh! we must go on!” cried Mrs.
Murchison. “Such an excellent begin
ning! Let’s switch the lights off and
do the thing properly.”
“No; no putting out of the lights, if
you don’t mind.” said the professor.
“That would make the thing even more
foolish than it already is. But we will
go on if it still amuses anybody.”
Every one looked at him in surprise.
“‘Have you suddenly become an old
fashioned scientific scoffer, Denman-?”
asked the colonel, rather gruffly. “Sit
down and let’s get on. I’m going to
ask the table to give us a date.”
But not another movement did the
table make that night.
At supper Professor Denman sat next
to the American girl.
“Miss Everard,” said the professor,
severely, in an undertone, “I will take
this opportunity of asking you why
you made fools of the company this
evening.”
Miss Everard was occupied at the
moment in blushing. She had just
caught Mr. Forester’s eye across the
table. But at the professor’s -words
she blushed a little deeper, and glanced
at him in the manner of one of Mr.
Dana Gibson's unapproachable divini
ties. Mr. Forester did not miss this
admirable effect. “The old boy is say
ing something pleasant,” he reflected
angrily.
“It is not of the least use looking at
me like that,” observed the professor.
“Shall I give you some salad? This is
not the first time I have engaged W.
investigations of this sort, by some
hundreds. I may have struck you as a
harmless old gentleman, with whom it
was safe to play tricks: but I knew
at once that you were tilting your side,
of the table when we got that ‘Yes.’
Why did you do it?”
Miss Everard ate her salad pensively
for a few moments. Then she smiled
at her accuser.
“Yes,” she said, “you are quite right,
professor. I did work the old table
just at the end. But you don’t want
to give me away now, do you? I had
my reasons.”
“As it was quite clear from the out
set that you would not pretend to con
duct the experiment in a proper spirit,”
replied the professor, with good humor,
“I was quite ready for something of
the sort from you. My only surprise is
to learn that you had a reason worth
calling by that name. May one ask
what it was?”
“Why, no; not too closely, anyway,”
answered the American, dallying with
a fork in some apparent confusion.
“But I will tell you this. I happened
to have a sort of an idea what Mr.
Forester’s question was, and I guessed
it would do him a heap of good to have
it answered with a ‘Yes.’ His question
was about a—a family matter that’s
been troubling him some. I think it
was that, anyway.”
“Well, your benevolent fraud seems
to have worked wonders,” observed the
professor, innocently regarding Mr.
Forester. “He looks more cheerful
than I’ve ever seen him, positively. I
must congratulate you.”
The professor spoke these last words
with the faintest suggestion of em
phasis. and smiled gently at his neigh
bor. Miss Everard again colored a lit
tle and then looked him bravely in the
face.
"Perhaps you may later on, profes
sor,” she said.
“Come, I’m walking your way. For
ester,” said Professor Denman, as they
put on their coats. “We’ll go together.
Only have some consideration for the
trembling limbs of an old man, my
boy. Don’t run me off my legs. You
seem,” Ife added, as they descended the
steps of the house, “as if you walked
on air.”
“So I do!” exclaimed Mr. Forester,
j baring his head to the night breeze.
i “I’m the happiest man in London, by i
Jove! Professor, you shall be the first
to wish me joy! I am going to marry
Alice Everard. She accepted me in the
drawing room half an hour ago. What
do you say to that, sir?’
“I am overwhelmed,” replied the pro
fessor, with the hint of dryness in his
tone. “My dear Forester. I wish you
I joy. I never met the lady before this
I evening, but I can tell you this: She
is resourceful, and she has pluck.”
“I should think she had!” cried Mr.
Forester, with enthusiasm. “But I
say,-professor, we owe this evening’s
happiness to you, I must tell you. It
all came of your table-turning.”
“Yes?” said the professor, interroga
tively.
“The question I put in my mind,”
pursued Mr. Forester, “was whether I
had any chance with Alice. I had
hardly dared to hope it; there were at
least a dozen better men than I am
in the running, and I simply couldn't
summon up the cheek to ask her until
to-night. But when your jolly old table
thumped out ‘Yes,’ I took my courage
in both hands and did it. I shall
; never,” he added solemnly, “laugh at
i that sort of thing again. It’s dashed
I odd and uncanny, and I don't under
■ stand it. But it answered my question,
1 and it was right.”
I “Yes,” mused the professor, “it was.
i Speaking as an investigator, I may say
; that a remarkably strong influence was
; at work to-night—very strong indeed.”
—E. Clerihew, in London Daily News.
Exteut of Swamp Bau.ls.
The Dutch have reclaimed vast
> areas in Holland from the encroach
ment of the ocean. Thousands of fam
ilies live and farm below the sea level,
gaining their security by magnificent
feats of engineering and persistence.
I They now contemplate the drainage of
I the Zuyder Zee, reclaiming some 1,350.-
000 additional acres of meadow land.
American drainage, in most cases,
would be fa.- more simple aud less ex
pensive; it is simply a question as to
whether the nation will see the wis
dom of setting its hand to this work.
In Florida the Everglades alone—
almost solid muck beds—would afford
an empire of some 7,000,000 acres; in
New Jersey and Virginia are vast
swamps, among them the famous Dis
mal Swamp. In Illinois, which is gen
erally regarded, as a well settled agrl
’ cultural State, there are ‘.000.000 acres
! of swamp land; In Michigan there are
nearly 0,000,000 acres. Fertile lowa has
about 2,000,000 acres of swamp land,
lu Minnesota there are almost 5,000,000
acres of rich surveyed swamp lands
and huge swamp areas not yet sur
veyed. Arkansas has tremendous
swamp areas which could be drained
and made habitable, and, in all, there
is a swamp area in the eastern half ;
of the United States which is equal
in' extent to the great agricultural
States of Indiana, Illinois and. lowa,
with three or four smaller Eastern
States thrown in.—New York Press.
In 1905 486 new- national banks were
rganized. j
ML
INTEREST
RlLjO THE
[KRARMER
STUDY EACH FIELD.
Each particular field requires special
and careful treatment. One plot of
land may be better adapted for a cer
tain crop than another, and the farmer
must study the requirements of each
field and crop.
DEHORNING CATTLE.
Dehorning has passed the experi
mental stage and has now become a
necessity. Practically no one now de
nies the benefits derived from having
a herd deprived of the dangerous weap
ons of defense. The question arises
as when and how can it best be done.
The fall, or preferably early spring,
are the best seasons of the year for
doing this work, say the middle of
March. The idea is to get the wounds
thoroughly healed before the flies come.
Animals dehorned in early spring and
cared for, usually shrink but little and
the wounds very soon heal over. It
is not necessary to put anything on
the wounds.
BURNING CHARCOAL FOR HOGS.
Allow the wood or corn cobs to be
come well ignited after piling in cone
shaped piles, then cover lightly with
dry earth. Combustion will then be
incomplete and a bed of charcoal will
result. Another way is to have ready
a tub of water and as soon as the
wood burns sufficiently to form a live
coal retaining the original shape, re
move with a pair of tongs and im
merse in the of water to extin
guish the fire, then lay aside to dry.
This is a simple plan and one that is
practicable whenever it becomes ad
visable to burn charcoal at home. The
value of charcoal as an aid t-> diges<
tion is underestimated.—C. B. Barret.
DEVELOPING GOOD HOGS.
A really good hog cannot be pro
duced from scrub stock. It i,s abso
lutely necessary to choose the breed
for the purpose, that is, some breeds
are better for bacon and hams when
lean meat is preferred and others for
lard or rat pork. Have an ideal animal
and work for it. Breed from matured
and well-bred sows. Don’t sacrifice
individuality to pedigree. Breed pro
lific sows o»ly. Avoid > cross-breeding
and feeding too much corn and ice
water, as this lessens the vitality and
tends to make too light a bone Feed
young stock and the breeding sows
oats, shorts, bran and til meal, with
but little corn. Give plenty of exer
cise. In finishing off a fat hog noth
ing is ahead of corn and pure water.
Give plenty of room in sleeping quar
ters and teach young pigs to eat early.
March or April litters are best. Keep
salt and charcoal by them at all times.
The growing of frame for the first
six mouths and the keeping of equal
sized pigs together must be looked to.
After the ideal hpg is secured it re
quires extra good judgment and care to
keep it and not allow it to degenerate,
—E. R. Beach.
PIANO BOX SMOKEHOUSE.
The thirsty farmer prepares his own
pork for home consumption, aud if he
is short of cash with which to build an
up-to-date smokehouse he will appre
ciate the following plan, which will
enable him to carry out his ideas at
small cost. Buy an old but good up
right piano box, and after making it
smoke tight with paper, set it in the
desired place and dig a trench so
that the piping will enter at one end
of the box through the bottom. Then
take an old wash boiler with a good
copper bottom and have a tinsmith
make a hole in one side near the bot
tom, and in this fasten a piece of tin
water pipe or four-inch stovepipe. Then
buy additional lengths of pipe and
w •
A ( Q~~\
make the connections yourself, having
an elbow to go into the box.
Make the smoke fire in the boiler,
the smoke will pass Into the box,
and, on a small scale, one will have a
first-class smokehouse. As little’ heat
is required to keep up the fire suf
ficient to give the desired amount of
smoke, there is no dange- of the wash
boiler being too frail for the purpose.
The illustration shows the plan per
fectly, the details of the piping being
shown in the lower part of the cut.-
Philadelphia Record.
’THE SUEZ CANAL.
Hard to Build, Costly to Maintain, But
Well Worth It AH.
The creation sZ the wheat export
trade of India was directly due to the
opening of the Suez route to Europe.
Before that time, says the Technical
World, all attempts successfully to
ship wheat byway of the Cape of
Good Hope had failed, because of heat
ing during the long voyage and the
loss from weevils in the cargo.
During the first year of operation of
the Suez Canal 486 vessels, aggregat
ing 436,000 tons, passed through it.
At the present time the number is
about 4000 ships, with a tonnage of
about 10,000,000.
The magnitude of these figures be
comes apparent when it is considered
that the foreign tonnage entering at
the port of New York is less than
9,000,000 a year.
Measured by value, the importance
of the Suez Canal traffic becomes much
larger, the imports and exports of In
dia alone which pass through it being
nearly one-quarter of the value of the
total foreign trade of the United
States.
The building of the Suez Canal was
a triumph of organization. At times
no fewer than 80,000 laborers were em
ployed: and all the adjuncts of a per
manent community had to be provided
by the constructing company.
The cost of maintenance of the canal
is necessarily high, on account of the
drift of sand from the Nile at Port
Said, which has constantly to be
dredged away. The operating expenses
are also heavy, the great traffic in
volving considerable cost for pilotage.
Altogether, the annual expense for
maintenance and operation is at the
present time about $1,400,000, or ap
proximately $13,000 per mile.
About thirteen hours are required to
go through the Suez Canal by ordinary
steamer. By a system of landing marks
and electric light buoys, navigation by
night is made as safe as by day; and
each vessel in motion is required to
supplement the stationary lighting sys
tem by having on board and in opera
tion a lighting apparatus to illuminate
its passage through. Vessels without
an apparatus of their own may hire
the necessary reflectors, etc., upon en
tering the canal aud return them on
leaving.
WISE WORDS.
Vision, aspiration is the 'first essen
tial.—James M. Taylor.
Tile misfortunes that are hardest to
bear are those that never happen.—
Lowell.
Foolish men mistake transitory sem
blances for eternal fact and go astray
4i:ore and morp.—Carlyle. ~ a
Education begins the gentleman, but
reading, good company and reflection
must finish him.—Locke.
Thought is the forerunner of action.
Keep your thoughts pure, that your
actions may be. worthy.—Loudon S. S.
Times.
Stand with anybody that stands
right. Stand with him while he is
right, and part with him when he goes
wrong.—Abraham Lincoln.
Grief for things past that cannot be
remedied and care for things to come
that cannot be prevented, may easily
hurt, can never benefit me.— Joseph.
Hall.
The character which you are con
structing is not your own. It is the
building material out of which other
generations will quarry stones for the
temple of life. See to it, therefore,
that it be granite and not shale.—Dr.
A. J. Gordon.
The deep truth about all noble life is
that it is renewed every day. * * *
The past has enough to do to help it
self, and we cannot make reserves of
goodness; the need of each day ex
hausts all the supply.—Samuel Chap
man Armstrong.
You can unlock a man's who!? life
if you watch what words he uses most.
We have each a small set of words,
which, though we are scarcely aware
of it, we always work with, and wiri-ii
really express all that we mean by ii.'e
or have found out of it.—Professor
Henry Drummond.
Principal Thins in a L™ Point
A young man from the South who
a few years ago was so fortunate as
to be enabled to enter th? law offices
of a well-known New York firm, was
first intrusted with a very simple case.
He was asked by the late James C.
Carter, then a member of the firm, to
give an opinion in writing. When
this was submitted it was observed by
Mr. Carter that, with the touching con
fidence of a neophyte, the young
Southerner had begun with the ex
pression, “I am clearly of opinion.”
/When this caught his eye he smiled
and said:
“My dear young friend, never state
that you are clearly of opinion on a
law point. The most you can hop? to
discover is the preponderance o£ the
doubt.—Success.
Italy’s Annual Coal Bill.
Anticipating an increase in the price
of British coal in the near future, the
harnessing of water power is engag
ing the attention of Italy. There is
said to be 6,000,000-liorse power avail
able in that country. The British con
sul at Naples says that the annual
coal bill of Italy is $40,600,000, most
of which is paid to England.
A. COMING OUT,
There’s something spread athwart the
bed —
A dreamy, creamy feast!
There’s “Oh’s!” and “Ah’s!” and praised
said
Os Madame the modiste.
There’s scent of roses in the hall.
There’s hurrying about.
There’s over all excitement’s thrall,
For Dolly’s coming out!
With busy hands, ’midst soft commands,.
Now deftly works Marie—
And cries anon, as back she stands: j
“Que vous etes belle! Mais oui!”
The mirror answers true: “ ’Tis so!”
Reflecting smile and pout
And Jacqueminot and cheeks aglow,
For Dolly’s coming out!
The toilet’s done. Gaze every one ■,
And mark each tuck and shirr.
Note well the lines of grace that run
From slipper to coiffure.
And Cupid, you your bow prepare!
(The rascal’s on a grin!)
Oh men, take care! Oh hearts, beware-
For Dolly's coming in!
—Edwin L. Sabin, in Puck.
RbSL
She—“lf you attempt to kiss me. I
shall certainly scream for help.” He—
“ But I don't need any help.”—Life.
“Your daughter has promised to
marry me, sir, the moment I can sup
port her.” “Well, don’t let that worry
you.”—Life.
“■What,” asked the innocent youth,
“is a bachelor girl?” “A bachelor girl,”
answered the knowing person, “is a
spinstei; man’s sister.”—Chicago News.
Poet—“ What ought I to get for this
poem?” Editor—“ Well, you won’t get
anything, but you ought to get Six
months.”—Cleveland Leader.
It is easy enough to be wealthy
If you’re willing to forge a check,
But a man can’t laugh when his autograph
Won’t purchase a lunch, by heck.
—New York Evening Mail.
“Yes; her husband robbed her of ev
ery cent she had.” “Poor dear! And
all she married him for was because
she was afraid of burglars.”—Judge.’
Tommy—“ Pop, what is automatic?”
Tommy’s Pop—“ Automatic, my son. is
a name we give to something that
won’t work.”—Philadelphia Record.
“Oh, yes,” she said proudly, “we can.
trace our ancestry back to—to—well, I
don’t know who, but we’ve been de
scending for centuries.”—Philadelphia
Telegraph.
Visitor-*“Doesn’t it cost a great deal
to live in a city like this?” Ilaggafd
Dyspeptic—“l suppose it does. My doc
tors have never allowed me to live
I merely exist
s'.i rn"thb*t\
the ancient but weathy
not love you well enough to be a sister
to you, but”—and a look of tender pity
crept over her lovely , face—“l will
marry you if you like!”—Cleveland
Leader.
A teacher whose name was Deveaux,
Had a spat with her Sunday night beaux,
She said: “I don't care,
You haven’t been fair,
So just take your hat. sir, and geaux.”
—Milwaukee Sentinel.
Hostess (introducing first violin to
sporting and non-musical guest)—
“This is Professor Jingelheim, who
leads the quartet, you know.” Sport
ing Guest (thinking to be highly com
plimentary)— “Leads oh-ah-by several
lengths, eh—and the rest nowhere!
What?”—Punch.
Weaver—"l sent one of my poems to
the Handy Magazine. I forgot to en
close stamps, but they returned it to
me all the same at their expense. I
think that was pretty good of them.”
Burgess—“ Perhaps they sent it back
so you would send it to the Monthly
Gusher. They’ve got a spite against
the Gusher, and it would be nuts to
them to have the Gusher print one of
your poems.”
Aunt Hannah—“George,do they gam
ble at tlie Stock Exchange?” Uncle
George—“Oh, dear, no, Hannah! The
knowing mes play a safe game aud the
greenhorns lose their money, but there
is no gambling in it, not a bit of it.”
Aunt Hannah—“ Well, I’m awfully glad
to know that. My nephew, Tom Point
er, spends most of his time at the Stock
Exchange, and I was afraid he might'
learn to gamble.”
Long Hair and Insanity.
Attention was called to physical man
ifestations of insanity by Professor A.
R. Loren, of the University of Berlin,
in a clinic before the students of Jef
ferson Medical College.
'‘lnsanity,” he said, “the careful stu
dent of physical manifestations will
often notice, is productive of a lux
uriant growth of hair. In some cases,
of the female insane this growth is so
abundant that r. mustache and bear!
develop. Another peculiarity some
times noted 1.3 an abnormal growth of
the ears; very often they stand out al
most at right angles from the head.
The eyes take on an unusual glitter.
“We cannot account for these pecul
iarities,” continued the professor, “but
they are so apparent that I do not be
lieve any student of insanity can af
ford to neglect them.”
Dr. Loren is one of the greatest spe
cialists in the study of insanity in the
world. He is on a tour of America and
obligingly accepted the invitation ex
tended by Jefferson College to stop over
long enough to lecture before the stu
dents.—Philadelphia Record.