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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.