University of South Carolina Libraries
3r : . y FAR AWAY. 'Awav, awav, from the dusty town, In tfee detfths of the woodlands your grie to drown: From the bitter strife Where the world is rife iWith song and bloom, and the breath o life! ?Atlanta Constitution. '|i ft ft ;ftftft ftftftftftiJ Friday Luck By F. E. C. ROBBINS. t "Noah Rawson tells ne he expects to start in on his new barn to-morrow," said Isaac Grose, interrupting; a protracted discussion of the tarifl question. "What, Friday?" exclaimed Uncle 'Bijah Neal, rousing himself from the doze, or perhaps reverie, in which he had been indulging. "And why not on Friday?" demanded young Abner Harmon, ready enough to drop the tariff for some other subject of controversy. "I hope that you don't hold to the notion that Friday is an unlucky day?" "I haven't said that I did," replied the old man, meekly. "That's one of those old superstitions that sensible people outgrew long ago," persisted Abner. "Just what I told Mother Gleason one Friday long before you were bom," said Uncle 'Bijah, his face lighting up with the glow of reminiscence. "I guess I shall never forest that particular Friday, and the kind of luck I had," he continued, with a clearing of the throat that the company assembled in Lufkin's store had learned to recognize as the precursor of some simple tale of bygone days. "My wife's mother was visiting us at the time. Mother Gleason was an excellent woman, and sensible in the main, though I suppose she was hard^ ly up to Abner's standard, for she had her superstitions that she held to like Gospel truth. I used to laugh at # her some, but all the time I had a half-feeling that there was something ^ -"In her notions. Most of 'em weren't new to me, anyway, for my aunt that brought me up was as full of signs , herself as the Old Farmers' Almanac. "Well, one morning my next neigh' bor brought me a letter from the po&toffice, and come to open it, it was from the Widow Lincoln over to Pottertown. She wrote that she was ' thinking serious of selling her woodlot, and if I was a mind to come over and see her, maybe we could trade. . "I was a good deal pleased, for I'd *,een tryinS t0 dicker with Mis' Lin>f" coin for that wood-lot for more than two years; but the widow was inde nonHemtlv Hph fnr thosft narts. and K|r kind of crotchety, and ' I hadn't BR -seemed to make any headway. B|.' ( "So. now I made up my mind not to let any grass grow under my feet; and I told the women-folks that I was going to hitch up and drive down ???.' to Poodtick Centre and draw my P money out of the savings-bank, and ~o iover to Pottertown in the >on and see if I couldn't close del right up. t Mother Gleason spoke up. e Bays, 'I guess you've forgotat day of the week it is. Abifou wouldn't start in on any18 Important as that on a Friiys she. it was kind of a wet blanket at first, for I'd forgotten about lg Friday; but in less than a y mind was made up. tat's just what I'm going to uu, i says. There's other folks would like that wood-lot, and I'm not jgolng to risk losing the best chance Tve ever had to make some money on account of an old superstition that no sensible person really believes in,' I says. uL "I didn't mean to hurt Mother Gleason's feelings, but you see I had P 'to put it pretty strong lor the sane Of keeping my own courage up. ' 'Well,' says she, terrible solemn, 'I only hope you won't regret it,' and it kinder sounded as if she rather hoped I would. "However, I harnessed up and drove down to the Centre and drew all my money out of the bank. It was along early in the spring and ' pretty hard traveling, and coming back, old black Charlie slipped on a patch of ice and went down on all fours, barking his knees and breaking one of the shafts. I patched it up and got home as best I could, and I tried to make light of it to the women-folks; but when I let on that I meant to foot it over to Pottertown that afternoon, Mother Gleason she warned me again. !' 'You take my advice and give it up for to-day,' says she. 'It's one of the surest signs of ill luck even to dream of a black horse down, let alone actually seeing one tumble on a Friday,' says she. "But I wouldn't hear to her, and after I'd tended to old Charlie's knees and eaten a late dinner, I started off for Pottertown? a good six miles. "After I'd gone a piece, I thought of a path through the woods that would cut off quite a little of the distance, and then I wished I had taken my gun. Of course I wasn't really afraid to go through the woods with that money in my pocket, but I thought that the gun would kind of he company for me. "So I went back and got It, but I was most sorry I did so, for it gave Mother Gleason a chance to expatiate on another of her signs. She said it always meant bad luck to turn round and come back for something after you'd once started off. "I suppose all this prophesying ol disaster must have made me a little nervous, for I was all eyes and ears when I struck into that lonesome path. But the only living thing 1 sav. was a rabbit. He was in the middle of a kind of swampy place and he seemed to he nosing round for wild berries under the snow. " 'Now,' thinks I. 'I'll have a crack at that fellow just for luck.' So J stole round cautiously through the :bushes, and finally knelt down behind a fallen log without his seeing me Then I took a good aim and let drive. "Well, that rabbit didn't fall in his f ni> T /\vn/\ntar1 1 T if Via ii ciina as x c.vpc^icu . i uuu wc ** uv even realized what a narrow escape he'd had. He just looked round for 1 a minute as if he was a little surprised at the noise, and then he seemed to think that on the whole i he'd better seek some other field of ' labor. "I was a good deal worked up about it. for I considered myself a ' k good shot in those days, and for me j to miss such an easy chance as that i seemed like a surer sign of ill luck j than any of Mother Gleason's. To j make matters worse, in going back > to the path I caught my foot on an ; old root, and fell among the bushes . and scratched my face ridiculous. f "I suppose it must have been go; ing on toward five o'clock when I finally reached the Widow Lincoln's, , though I couldn't say exactly, for l when I went to look at my watch just t before I got there, lo and behold, it was gone! "It was an old bull's-eye and not worth so very much, but I valued it , because it had belonged to my grandfather. Besides. I couldn't help . thinking how I'd heard that it always caused ill luck to lose an old family heirloom. "So I wasn't over and above cheerful when I entered the widow's yard, and I was still less so when I came out. "I didn't so much mind her setting the dog on me, for he didn't really bite through my cowhide boots, and she called him off as soon as she found out who it was. And I could ! have stood the dressing down she j gave me for coming there with a j gun and my face all bloody, scaring | a lone woman half out of her wits, I as she said. But when, finally, she 1 'lowed that she wouldn't sell her wood-lot to me at any price, I did I feel considerable down't the heel. i "But there was no use arguing I with her, and all that was left for me < to do was to just trudge back. And i when at last I got home, long after dark, and Mother Gleason told me that all the trouble came frqm my 1 undertaking new business on Friday, 1 why, I hadn't a word to say!" < "The day of the week had nothing whatever to do with it," . declared Abner. "It was merely a coincidence that your hard luck came on a Friday." "No doubt you're right," admitted Uncle 'Bijah. "Probably it was just such coincidences that gave Friday its bad name." "Didn't you ever find your watch, , Mr. Neal?" asked the storekeeper, , with a kindly interest. ; "Oh, yes," he replied, resuming j his narrative with this encourage- \ ment. "I went over to that swampy j place the next morning, and found ; the watch right under the log where ; I was when I fired at the rabbit. It hadn't taken a mite of harm?ticking | -1 1 T * away as cueenm as wutu uc wucu a t picked it up. I had my gun with me, * but of course I didn t see anything to | shoot. ! "I was kind of curious, though, to know where my bullet went the day before, so I rummaged round a little, and finally I spied the very hole that . ought to have been made in that rabbit. It was in the butt of an old , dead tree, and come to look at it close, I saw something yellow and ( sticky oozing out. I took ,up a little on my forefinger, and touched my ( tongue to it; and then I says to myself, 'I wish I'd brought my ax in- ( stead of my gun!" I "I clipped it for home, and got my ax and two twelve-quart pails, and , came back to that tree, and got out I , all I wanted to carry of as prime honey as I should ever wish to see. ] "When I'd got most home I met j Hosea Ross. Before I had a chance to show him my prize, he sung out, , 'Well, 'Bije, how much money did you have in the Pooduck SavingsBank?' , " 'Why,' says I, 'I did have quite a number of hundred dollars, but I drew it all out yesterday,' says I. " 'Well, you are a lucky dog!' says he. " 'Whv en'' savs T " 'Why, haven't you heard?' says he. "Then he went on to tell how the burglars had blown open the savingsbank safe the night before^ and got off with all the funds before the Pooduck Centre people had fairly waked up. You must recollect hearing about that robbery, Mr. Lufkin, | if it was forty odd years ago?" "Sartin I do, as if it was yesterday," said the storekeeper. "So you | got your money out just in the nick of time! How did you finally invest it, if it is a civil question?" "Oh, I boyght the wood-lot with it. I The Widow Lincoln came over to see j me that very afternoon, and said she ieu as n sue uau uewu a uuie nasi; , , and finally she offered me the lot for six hundred a^id fifty, which was fifty dollars less than I'd calculated I'd have to pay. I made quite a speck ; out of that wood-lot," he added, complacently. "So, as I told Mothei Gleason, my Friday luck turned out good in the end, after all." "I should think that after that you would have been completely rid of the Friday superstition," said Abner. "Well, you would think so; but I d'know how it is. It's curious about some of those little kinks that your mind gets into in your younger ' years! Maybe you think you've got 'em all straightened out, but the chances are they don't stay so. , "Now I know in all reason as well , as you do, Abner, that Friday is no different from any other day, and yet I do suppose if I was Noah Rawson, I should put off commencing on that barn till the first of the week."? Youth's Companion. , Feminine Philosophy. Tell a woman of the murder of a ( woman in Kansas City recently be: cently because she distrusted bank? ; and carried her money with her, and she will not see the suggestion in the incident that the woman should have ; trusted the banks. "The woman would have been wiser." she will comment, "if she had spent that I money at the drygoods stores."? . Atchison Globe. Ill Work of Swedish Women. Many enthusiastic and seriou: minded women are enlisted in ten perance work in Sweden. Am.them is Mrs. Vendia Hollstrand, < Upsala, who has achieved a grt. work in the organization of tb Swedish white ribboners. The wor icuieu up uy tue owcuisa wuuicu is v a most practical nature. Their pla Df establishing temperance restaui ants for all classes leads the worh No other country has made such success. Royal personages and otl ers of high social rank indorse tb movement by dedicating the tempe: ance restaurants and giving thei their patronage.?Philadelphia Re< ord. Children Define Idea of Lady. The time-honored task of definin i "lady" was submitted the other da to a score of little girls in one of th public schools in this city an brought out the usual variety of ar 3wers in which the possession c wealth stood out a3 an almost indi; pensable condition in the juvenil minds. It is noticeable, howevei that kindness and "good manners ire rated equally highly. "A lady i rich and very kind to the servants, Dne description ran, and it was adde "The servants have to be clean an tidy in work as well as the ladies. Dne of the more ambitious efforta a i description ran: "A lady is a perSto 2* ? / Diced Turnips.?"W as j i| into inch-square dice. !' der> adding for each c g 5 sugar. Drain off all v ^jjj ? I1 salt and pepper to seas " f (! beaten up with atf egg. a ; boils up once, then ser CB n. ' vho has all her manners and who ha i little money with which to hel he poor. She generally is busy abou iomething, and lives in a large hous ffith a lawn in front." "Ladie should have good manners," wrot . ? V 1 II J xl 4 inotner cana, ana tney uugui. i send a lot of presents to poor peopl >ecause they have nothing else to do. [t Is hard to realize the cynicism wa mconscious In: "A lady is a woma with a lot of money, but she ought t know her manners as well."?Ne^ fork Press. To Appear Well Gowned Use hairpins, visible, invisible an ill kinds. Wear a net or thin veil to keep i vagrant locks. Cleanse your face with cream ever night before going to bed. Keep your shoes polished and don' allow the heels to become run over. Wear immaculate neckwear, slean shirtwaist and gloves withou holes. Don't allow the public glimpses ci a soiled white skirt, or a shredded sil one. Don't display a hole in your stocfc ing right above your heel when yo hold up your dress. Don't go around with soiled nail or nails that are as vindictively Ion as a mandarin's. Don't wear your collar pins awrj and don't forget to sew on missin buttons. Don't wear a veil with a silt acros the face, and don't wear one at a unless you can adjust it neatly. But, above all, look at your bac in the glass before you start out; th punishment, of Let's wife does nc it. tmti c1<-? TniliannnnH dWcLll JU u 11. juu v?w. News. ^Boston to Form New Clao. .' A group of influential Boston wc men again are busily at work on th organization of a woman's club in th Hub, to be founded and conducte on much the same lines as the Colon Club in this city. The project; wa mooted last year, and the first r< sponse was so satisfactory it looke as if success was assured. Most c the leading women in the Back Ba joined the organizing committee, an charter members actually were pa3 ing their subscriptions and being ei rolled when a hitch arose. It is hin' ed that one or two social undesin bles managed to find a place "on tli ground floor," and the exclusive one at once withdrew. It was decided t return all subscriptions and call th whole scheme off, and these tactic have made it possible for the origim organizers to get together once mor and start all over again, though th: time with a far stricter censcrshi over those permitted to take par There is certainly no lack of mone to stand in the way of the new clul and tentative negotiations are said t be under way for the purchase of Mr John G. Phillips' home in Berkele street, at present occupied by Got ernor and Mrs. Draper, and the r< modeling of it for the club house.New York Press. to For the Young Girl. The pretty girl or the iiouse was i a quandary, and so she went to tb household oracle to submit her cas< Her difficulty was this: Two me callers had arrived at practically tb same hour the night before. She e: pected only one, but every girl kno^ there sometimes arrives another wb would be more welcome, had he ch< sen a different time. The first arr val was one to whom this girl is ei gaged, or would be had he mone enough to make a home for her. H undoubtedly thinks that the secon arrival is a real rival, and he know alas, that the second has money, - I / 4 WOMAN'S! MREALM ^ J&- ?V^7 quite a nice little income. So it s. stands to reason that he who has only j_ his affection to offer, with no income g to back it, frowned through that time until he could take his departure, >c which was early, and with chilling ie politness. k Croesus?the comparative Croesus >f ?had the rest of the evening to himn self and a particularly nice time, ber cause the girl was piqued by the chil1. liness of the farewell of the first, and a so made herself unusually agreeable. i- But, poor girl (and this is where ie the oracle comes in), she spent most r- of the night in tears because she n didn't see how the impoverished one could be so silly, and never, never would she say she was sorry, and so, I of course, he would never come again j to see her. g But the oracle shook her head and y spoke thus: ' A ' e "You are wrong. It isn t wrong to d have the other man call upon you if i- you are not trying to flirt with him. >f If you are you are acting disloyally 3- and unfairly. Your mistake is in e saying you will not write the first one r, to come again. You are not seeing " his side. It is not necessarily jealis ousy or ugliness that sent him away; " he was hurt. One of the hardest d things a man has to live through is d the consciousness, when he honestly " loves a girl that he hasn't money it enough to make a home for her. Many n other men could, and when he sees ash and pare the turnips, then cut Drop into boiling water and cook ten[uart of .turnipB one tablespoonful of pater, then return to the fire, adding ion and three tablespoonfuls of cream Shake over the fire uptll the mxtura ?e. s one of those with the girl he loves he p is humiliated by the comparison with t himself and a little afraid, too. e "It iBn't a disagreeable fear, but a s human one, because he cannot know e whether the girl really cares for him. o And may not the advantages the otfce er man can offer be greater to her " than Is his love. It is this combinas tion of humiliation and fear that 1 n makes many a man sit silent. 0 "So, as you were hostess, I think 1 v you should write first and say you 1 are sorry he was hurt, or ask him to come again soon to ses you. Each girl has her own way of mending 3 matters when they havei gone wrong, and you will be sweeter and much n happier if you make the first advance in this instance. You will know from y the way it is met whether the mat Is ugly or only hurt, and in either case 't you will have nothing with which to reproach yourself." a "I think I'll write to him now," it the girl said softly. And there is the j moral for v.hose who need it.?Ro- i if sanna Schuyler, in the Washington : k Star. " I ? Silk batistes, with tbe most allur- j ing designs in soft colors, are being 1 shown. Embroidery and braiding are elabu orately employed on waists and e skirts. >t Some of the smartest quills seen j i is on hats are heavily gilded, and are i decidedly curved. A very satisfactory material, and j an inexpensive one, for a tailored j 1 , suit, is Venetian cloth. >,e A handsome sweater, worn with an j e outing costume, is of angora, with d hood and gloves to match. y The many-ribbed pagoda-topped is parasols, as well as the square ones, i- promise to give a touch of variety. The Russian blouse is the feature of novelty, and shares popularity of 1 ' the short jacket, which has taken the ; place of the long coat. Whole gowns are being made ot t_ baby Irish lace, with one-button, short coats, small revers and long sleeves, p open V-shaped in the front. >5 The cord groupings, shown in the .0 new dimities and other wash fabrics .e are unusual. Some of the plaid ef:3 fects are especially charming. *1 Rat-tail braid is used on many of e the new suits of tailored style, much '3 in the same way that soutache was P used in the past, but less prominently. y Rough weaves continue in the as3' cendant, but a vogue of smooth serges 0 is promised, and some light-colored ' suits of these materials are in eviy dence. 7?. Pique in a variety of colors, em1 broidered and dotted, promises to be popular for children's dresses. These j are ornamented with linen or embroidered buttons. An odd and pretty neck accessory \ consists of an inch-wide band of col- I orea velvet, joined by a hook and eye ~ at the front, where is a frill in e straight jabot effect, made of net 01 lace, with ends dropping below the rg lower edge of the velvet* finished with 0 tassels. j. Even coats are now belted. Those i- Cor street wear have them of the !- material or of soft patent leather run >y through mother-of-pearl buckles in [? front, and those for motoring or driv. tl Ing have heavy stitched belts ati a, tached to the foundation and lifted ? aliglitly above the normal wlfstline. "the lambing. Farmer's Wife's Fight With the Snow-Hound, The old cuckoo clock on the mantel shelf whirred rustily. and a headless cuckoo hopped out. cuckooed 2 o'clock, and retired jerkiiy. In the darkness without a sudden sally Of. wind, sweeping with flaws of snow ard sleet, roared in the wide chimney. From outside the big ruddywalled kitchen faint little twitters and quavering "ba-as" came in each lull of the snowy wind. "Not long for t' first 'un," old Meg said, pitching a great pile of wood on the bubbling Are. "Soon after two owd Blacky, for t' past five yeer at ony rate, has been reg'lar as th' owd cuckoo there." She filled the big milk can by the fire with steaming milk, and bent to arrange the rampart of flannels in the corner. A flurry of snow came, impalpable as dust, beneath, the rattling door. Through the deep-set window one could see it whirling and jigging through the blackness of the early morning. A yellow lantern tossed like a fallen comet among the outbuildings and flickered out again. Meg ceased stirring the milk and listened. "Hark!" she said, her old blueveined hand uplifted. In the low symphony of "ba-as" and twitterings outside a tiny cry of complaining rose suddenly. The lantern light gleamed in the flying snow, men's voices sounded. Meg bent down to her milk can. "First 'un!" she said solemnly. "The Lord send a good lambin'!" The door opened with a swift sparkle of snow and an icy rush of air. Old William entered, stamped the snow from his feet. Something that whined and cried bulged beneath the driving rug he wore. "Owd Blacky, as usual," he said, putting the ridiculous little bundle of long legs and stupid face, bleating, into Meg's lap. Another quavering cry came from outside. "They're comin' gradely now," William said, pulling at the big jug on the oven top. The door closed behind him. Meg, with her red arms bare, poured warm milk down the avid throat of the long-legged thing on her knee, and bundled it in flannel as the door opened again. "Welly near gone, this 'un," Willlam said briefly. "L/ord save t' rest!" said Meg, without any irreverence. The limp silent bundle with long iegs hanging piteously quiet sprawled across her knee. The red arms worked like flails, pummellng the snow-chilled thing, drumming on the pulseless ribs, sidling swutiy over the almost dead spine, kneading the Mid flesh. A faint bleat sighed up Erom the thin throat, the legs twitched . . . The sweat on Meg's brow glistened in the lamplight, her swaying shadow sprawled jalf across the stone floor . . . The white bundle cried and struggled and the battle was won. That battle. But there were others. The big kitchen was full of plaintive bleatings and whimperings. Little kicking balls of Wool and flannel stirred in the shadow of every corner. Little still bundles that would never kick, victims snatched by the snow-hound that' roared outside, lay quiet. " 'Save no more'll go," Meg said, pummeling the warm life into the frozen thing on her knee. "Winter, ridin' on t' buttock o' spring, is horriole bad for the lambies. Eh, dear!" William tramped in with an Icy blast of snow. "One o' th' ewes goin\" he said shortly, pulling a handful of medicine bottles from the cupboard. The great fire-lit kitchen was alive with the new-born. Two score, whining and bleating, half a dozen still and cold. The headless cuckoo had whirred three times. Outside the snow had ceased, and far down in the cup of the whitened hills an early morning train crawled like a yellow glow-worm. A faint confusion of sound from the Herdwiclc ewes, gathered from the stony wilds of the mountains where they roamed, timid as goats half the year, floated with the drifting snow through the chinks of the rattling door. Old Meg in the ruddy kitchen still fought with the snow-hound. A lusty young lamb tumbled blindly along the stone floor and tripped over a brother that lay cold and dead. Meg's tireless red arms worked like a windmill, pummeling, caressing, feeding and fighting grimly. The light c.me slowly up out of the east, whitening the great creased cloth of the hills, striking rosily the glistening shoulder of the Snake. The world developed slowly like a photographic negative, rising whitely from the black of the morning. Inside the stables faint little whimperings and suckings and scufflings sounded. Old Meg, tired-eyed and dishevelled, stood at the door, listened, and smiled at the whorls of powdered snow that danced in the farmyard.?London Daily News. Almost Toe Far, "Very good repartee. Very good. But, perhaps, a little strong." The speaker was Henry E. Dixey, the actor. He resumed: "It reminds me of a dialogue at the Lambs between a New England poet and a Scot. " 'Bah,' said the Scot, hearing that the poof; had a press agent. "Bah, you Americans are possessed with an itch fever for notoriety.' "The poet tossed back his long locks fiercely. " 'Well,' he cried, 'an itch for notoriety is better than a notoriety for?' "But with a "Tut, tut. gentlemen!' " said Mr. Dixey, "I ended this uuocuni i j ?? i un?>iv; cic i i? m vu>, wv/i/ far."?Washington Star. The average weekly inccme of what la known as "a poor family" in New York City Is $11.30, and the f&milies average five and two-fifths persons. ???? / j nmhin /i |\i^izy+yi ^ The thickness of a razor edge has been reckoned at about one-millionth of an inch. The twelve principal crops of the United States alone show a value of over $5,000,000,000 at last reports. Children of the public schools in j the Province of Ontario are to have | much cheaper school books, to be supplied by the Provisional Government under a five-year contract, from August 1, 1009. Dislike of Scotland and Scotchmen was one of Samuel Johnson's pet hobbles. A Boston firm of building wreckers has brought out a circular saw that will cut through nails and bolts 'as well as through wood, enabling them to cut into regular sizes of secondhand lumber that otherwise would be valueless. Because Dante Gabriel Rossetti's father was forced to leave Italy for political reasons, England gained a : noted painter and poet. Shelley and Spenser are poets' poets. Each has been the favorite j 1 and influencer of many great masters i of the art. Edgar Allan Poe won a prize of ' $100 with his story, "The Gold Bug," 1 in 1843. It was submitted in compe- 1 tition to the Philadelphia Dollar < i Newspaper. I Thomas Prince's "Chronological 1 History of New England" comes < down only to the year 1633 because ' the author overwhelmed his main ' purpose by a long introduction which 1 began with the creation of the world. ' The chestnut tree of Longfellow's 1 "Village Blacksmith" was cut down ] In 1876. The first anti-slavery work to appear in book form in this country was < Lydia Maria F. Child's "Appeal in 1 Behalf of That Class of Americans j Called Africans." It was published 1 in 1833. - . i Sheridan's play, "The Duenna," 1 had a run of seventy-five nights in ( London in 1775-6, a remarkable sue- 1 cess for those days. . 1 - I Ben Jonson's song, "Drink to Me ' Only With Thine Eyes," was suggest- c ed by the twenty-ninth letter of the 1 Greek, Philostratus. The letter com- J mences "Drink to me with your eyes : alone." j 1 j The Germ Hobgoblin, j j MM* * C I trust that no one will misunder- t stand or will think that I cherish un- { cleanliness when I confess that I ( deeply regret the advance made by j modern science in bacteriology. It is j not that I love disease, or fail to share j ? the enthusiasm of those who would j i banish it, but the knowledge tending j ( to prolong life has made life in many I ways so much less worth living that J some of us would rather go back to ; ' shorter and merrier days. I am all i j I compassion for a piteous childhood, j ? [ brought up no longer in the fear of j ( the Lord, but in the fear of the i ( "germ." A young friend of mine, I y not long since, told me of her little I ? sister, aged five, who came home ! i daily from the park full of enthusi- j asm over a new acquaintance made E there, a little girl of about her own j size. The family, interested, pressed her with inquiries about her friend, , very naturally asking her name. The youngster bore the questioning for some time, but at last burst into tears with, "I don't know her last name, but her first name is Dorothy, and she { hasn't any germs!" The story made me recall a tiny niece, all too young for such horrid ; ti-oughts, disciplining a still younger sister on a railway train for having put a splinter from the porter's whisk-broom into her mouth. The infant's idea of what might be on that whisk-broom appalled me: "Worms, and wriggly, crawly things that will | get inside you and eat you up." I re- j member, too, the four-year-old daugh- j ter of a friend who resolutely refused j to kiss her sick mother because, the j I little monster averred, she was afraid j of getting sick herself. Are these bac- j | teriologists in miniature to be en- i I dured? What shall be done with a | J childhood, robbed of its legitimate j fear of bogie and hobgoblin, and left j to construct from distorted facts such t an unattractive mythology of its own? r Are not erlking and witch wife as true as many a bacillus legend, and t far more enticing? I If the minds of those on the very threshold of life are thus overshadowed, what shall be said of the mind of eld? Uneasy age, waking to the import of recent discoveries, finds wretchedness in the place of long comfort. Isolated facts hit hard when used as missiles, and the younger * generations do not hesitate to hurl them as fast as they can pick them up. Heaven help the unprotected old gray heads!?From Scribuer's Mag- 1 azine. y Some Truth in It. Discussing the proposed laws against scorching motoriste, Raymond Hitchcock, the actor, said: i "It is time to check these men. i i They are getting quite too reckless. ^ There was more truth than humor in ( a burlesque dialogue I read in a man- j uscript play the other night. c j " "If there's one filing more than c f nnnthfir I hate to run over.' said a | 1 burlesque chauffeur, 'it's a baby.' ? " 'Quite right,' his companion g agreed. 'Those feeding bottles do t play hob with a tire, don't they?.' t .Washington Star. 1 TRIALS of the NEEDEMS WANT TO CIVE THEM TO A BEGGAR.HUH M DO YOU WANT TO MAKE A BECCAR OF MEl BY GIVING EVERYTHING AWAY ? ?* T" "T [WHY. JOHN resolved; that charity generally begins when the. liver and bowels are right. munyons paw-paw pills keep them in good condition 10 pllls in a box 10* Konyon'a P?w P?w Pills coax the liver into activity by gentle met bods. They do not scour, gripe or weake> Tbey are a tonic to the stomach, livt and nerves; Invigorate Instead of weak. a. They enrich the blood and enable the stomoeh to get all the nourishment from food that is put Into It These pills contain no calomel; they are soothing, beallng and stimulating. For sale by all druggists In 10c and 25c sizes. If yon need medical advice. write Monyon s Doctors. They will advise to the best of their ability absolutely free of Charge. MUNYON'S, 53d and JefferMa St*., Philadelphia, Pa. Feeding the Pnt. Miss M.?Tip feeds pups four or Ave times a day, mostly stale bread soaked in milk or gravy. Now and then a little finely chopped meat wltn-broken puppy biscuit. As tbey grow aider knock off meals, until when grown they have but two a day? biscuits soaked in gravy In the morning and biscuits with meat and veg?tables In the evening. Plenty of ex sreise and fresh air. Do not bother about powders to which you refer, but take it to a "vet." It will behave itself in time if yon allow It sutside as much as possible and correct as you have done.?New York Press. , Not an Inch of Healthy Skfo Left. "My tittle son, a boy of five, broke Hit with an itching rash. Three doetors prescribed for him, but he kept setting worse until we could not drese aim any more. They finally advised Be to try a certain medical college, )ut Its treatment did no food. At ;he time I was induced to try Cuti:ura he was so bad that I bad to eut lis hair off and put the Cuticura Ointnent on him on bandages, as it was mpossible to touch him with the bare land. There was not one square inch >f skin on his whole body that was iot affected. He was one mass of lores. The bandages used to stick to lis skin and in removing them it used ;o take the skin oft with khem, and he acreams from the poor child were leartbreaking. I began to think that le would never get well, but aiter the ;econd application of Cuticura Ofntnent I began to see signs of tmprcrenent, and^vith the third and fourth ippllcations the sores commenced to Iry np. His skin peeled off twenty , imes, out it finally yielded to the reatment. Now I can say tiiat he sntirely cured, and a stronger and^ lealthier boy you never saw than le is to-day, twelve years or more iince the cure was effected. Robert EVattam, 1148 Forty-eighth St., Chi:ago. 111., Oct. 9, 1909." Coasting Flying Macnines. In Switzerland the coasting flying nachine furnishes great fun. Sleighs ire fitted with wings, or gliders, and aken to the top of a steep hill. They lash down with lightning speed, and vhen the wings are released the ileighs rises Into the air for a beau:iful slide. It is an easy way to learn lying, hut aside from this the new .port beats coasting all to pieces.? s'ew York Press. IVELL KIDNEYS KEEP THE BODY WELL. When the kidneys do their duty he blood is filtered clear of uric acid ind other waste. Weak kidneys do |WT5?53^5gE| not filter off all the 1? ba(* matter' This Is C&ZEI tbe cause ?* rbeu" BaSjVf^ roatic pains, backWmq I V J*, ache and urinary dlspjRM/p' |5v/ orders. Doan's KidM ney P'Jls cure weak m \ w Hecry J- Brown, IV ? 53 Colnmbus St.. u/'W Charleston, S. C., tjM 1 #jt says: "For two years ajjy 1 $1 ' suffered with my i$SS \ $5 kidneys. Rheumatic j&ajg* I 3b pains drove me neairBga? 1 i$* ly frantIc- M-v limbs llisL^ A gjj swelled. Nothing SjjBSjgfejjy N helped me until I beQyaBBHHaSl gan using Doan's Sidney Pills, and by that time I had learly given up hope. They brought ne quick relief and a final cure." Remember the name?Doan's. Sold >y all dealers. Foster-Mllburn Co., 3uffalo, N. Y. 50 cents a box. *emaie noctures At the annual meeting of the trusees of the Manchester Royal Infirmiry it was derided by a large majority hat women should not be resident )hysicians and surgeons. Bishop ^'elldon argued that women doctors vere not worth as much as men for he treatment of all cases, and most patients disliked to be treated by vomen physicians. There is no such oolish prejudice here in New York. ?New York Press. Cause of Temperance. "The cause of temperance is workng great headway in Norway. We lave adopted the local option policy vith excellent results," said P. An'nsen, a manufacturer of white pawr frnm fiuipn N'nrwav. "Whenev ;r the people of a certain district or :ounty wish to abolish drinking louses an election is held, at which ill adult males in that territory are tupposed to 7ote. If any are absent ;heir votes are counted for prshibl:lon. Another election cannot be aeld until after five years."