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y The Home of Love. Fret! fretl frot! 2To wonder the work goes wrong; Worry, and fuss, and fumo aud frot, With never a cbango in tho song. And tho husband mutters, with scowling faco, Ab he enters his homo and takes his place, "Ah, surely, mine is a pitiful case, For my wifo docs nothing but fret." Scold! scold! scold! And the voice is sharp and thin! The eye is hard and the hand is quick, And they spare neither kith or kin; While tho neighbors mock at the vixen's tongue, And the husband goes whore tho drunkards uirong, And drowns his woes with a glass and song Because his wife is a scold. Smile! smile! sinilol For a magic power is this; What a welcome homo to a weary man Are a8mi!o and a wifely kiss! For smile* in a cottage must sunshine make, As over the kindly lips they break, Who would not work for the dear, sweet sake Of a wife with a suuuy e>mile? Love! love! love! "Whatever the trouble be, Remember that love is a brother fond, That is born for adversity; Though heavy the burdens may be to bear, Of poverty, weariest toil, and care. The lowliest home miy be bright and fair, If it is but the homo of love. ?Everybody's Magazine. POOR JOHN! BY FLORENCE II. GETCHELIi. It was an August day; the heat was Intense, and Mrs. Ardc, on her way down town to do somo shopping, stopped in at Mrs. Bray's to rest. She found Mrs. Bray, looking worn and anxious, busy mending her little son's diminutive kniek erbockers. She put aside her work at oncc, however, on seeing her friend and begged Mrs. Ardc to sit down. "I'm real glad you came in," she said, "for I've been dull enough lately and haven't gone anywhere or seen anybody 1" "Have you been sick ?" asked Mrs. Ardc. "Well, I can't say Fve been actually ?ick, though I've had tho headache al" most constantly. But I haven't felt in the mood for any amusement. I often think I have more trouble than any one else living. I tell John it's no wonder Fm getting gray so fast. I'll look liko an old woman long before my time." "What is the matter?" asked Mrs. Arde. "Well, in the first place, there's to be m uu >r au|ici ililVUUUUli Ul> II1U IIIUIS OD T.QO first of September, and I expcct nothing else but that John will lose his place." "Why, isn't he liked ?" ""^w^bffnhcre are always so many discharges when a new superintendent comes in. If John loses his place I don't know what wo will do?go to tho poorhouse, T suppose." "Not so bad as that, I hope;" and Mrs. Ardc could not repress a smile. "At least not while you own such a nice cottage as that you have just built on Pierco street. Mr. Arde and I drove past it yesterday and admired it very much." "Oh, that's just another source of trouble. We built it to rent, you know, and it has been finished three weeks, and no sign of a tenant yet. I tell John it will cat its head off. It was a great mistake to build so far out. People won't go out there to live; it's too inconvenient. I was saying to John yesterday that it wouldn't surprise me at all if we didnjt rent it for a year?and think what a loss I'? , . "Of course you remember the old saying about crossing a bridgo before you come to it!" said Mrs. Ardc. "Oh, it's easy for you to talk; it isn't your bridge," was tho rejoinder. "I wouldn't worry about tho house so much If it were not that wo are anticipnting a heavy loss in another direction. John very foolishly went security on a note for two hundred dollars, which will fall due in three days. Not a word have wo heard from tho man who owes it, and I am morally certain lie won't pay a cent of *t. I feel fairly sick whenever I think of it. I told John yesterday that I'd never forgive him if he ever went security for any one again. I don't think a man ought to ask such a favor; it is taking a mean advantage of friendship." "Why not hope that tho noto will be paid?" asked Mrs. Arde gently. "There's no ground for hope," and Mrs. Bray sighed heavily. "How we are to manage I don't know, for it took evory cent we'd laid by to build that cottage; and I told John when it was finished that we'd have to Ecrimp more than ever now. And wo must calculate on a heavy doctor's bill too." "Why so?" wen, ucorgio had the diptheria last January, you know, and all but died, and it stands to reason he'll havo it again, his throat's so tender. I'm worried about him all tho time. I don't tako a moment's peace. Lifo is so strange! It does seem ns if some people were shut off from everything liko enjoyment. With mo it's nothing but care and trouble from the beginning to the end of every year." 4'I have always maintained that life is pretty much as wo mako it," said Mrs Ardo quietly, as she rose to go. "Of course trouble comcs upon U3 sometimes ?wo must expect that?but it's a bad plan to borrow it. I think it is better to hopo for tho best under all circum stances and put our faith in tho Lord. He's suro to bring things out right in the end. And you know that sometimes wlmt seems like a great troublo turns out to be a blessing in disguise." "Ch, it is easy for you to feel that way; you never have any worries," returned Mrs. Bray. "Your husband is well off and you have no children. I was saying to John this very morning that I must certainly have been born under an unlucky star." "Poor John !" thought Mrs. Ardc, but she made no reply. A month later Mrs. liray returned her friend's call. Her face still wore a worn, harassed expression, and she sighed as she accepted the chair Mrs. Arde pushed forward. "I thought I'd run in for a littlo while," she said, "but I don't know that you'll thank me for coming. I'm dull company for anybody these days." "I hope your husband hasn't been discharged," said Mr?. Arde. "No; he's kept his place, and he and the new superintendent arc great friends; I only hope it will last," was the reply. "Then that worry is oil your mind; and your cottage is rented, too. Mr., Arde and I drove past it yesterday and Raw some children playing on the porch." "Yes, it's rented, and to a vory nice family,' said Mrs. Bray. "They pay a l rrlior rnfn f linn wn n vt\nnfnrl f a rrnf ?UVV Villi LA If V VAjl^VfbCU VV gw V?Vj and that's a great help. But of course they won't stay?we can't expcct it. I was saying to John a few days ago that it wouldn't surprise me at all if the house was empty again by tlio end of December, there are always s"> many changes made about that seasou of the year." "You must hope for the best. How about that note you feared would not be paid ?" "Oh, that trouble is off my mind, thank goodness 1 The man paid it. But it would bo just like John to lend his name to another. I'm worried about it all the time. He don't know how to refuse a friend anything. I am always telling him that his generosity will bring us all to the poor-house yet." Again Mrs. Ardc thought of "Poor John I" and wondered how he endured life tied to a woman who crossed every bridge long before she came to it and found rocks and burrs in the smoothest path. This is not a funcy sketch, and I venturo nothing in saying that among those who real it there will be few who cannot call to mind people who, like Mrs. Bray, bcrrow trouble on every hand.? Christian Weekly. Various Reasons Assigned. There have been numerous reasons given to account for the fact that the north sides of churchyards are so often devoid of graves. In the west of Eng land there is an idcu that the north side was not consecrated, but was left for a playground for the children. Then, some again say that it is from the tradition that Jesus, when dying, turned his head to the south. Another reason given is that the south is the sunny side, and the side where the church door common1TT ia v\1nAA/l ? Al ? *j to ?uu n uuiCJ| LUUat'l|Ut;ilLlJj most people pass. Tho commonest reason appears to bo that formerly murderers, excommunicated persons, stillborn children, etc., wero wont to be buried on the north side, and some say that ghosts always chooso the north sido for their peregrinations. There is, however, an ecclesiastical reason. The east is God's side, whero the throno is set; the west> man's side, the Galilee of the Gentiles; the south, where the sua shiaes ia its strength, is the side ot the angels and spirits; the north, the devoted region of Satan and his hosts, tho lair of demons and their haunt.?Troy Times. Old-Time Drinking: Habits. This writer romembcrs having worked in a crew of sixteen carpenters in Portland in 1825, every one whom drank spirits. Tho employor furnished grog to all at 11 a. in. and 4 p. m. Having finished one building tho whole crew wnnf. dnwn fl\n V*An on nv/iuMf/vn and took two gallons of rum. In 1883 he helped build a meeting houso in Whitcfield. A hogshead of rum was bought by the contractor, and the most of it was consumed in building that meeting house. No?those were not tho "good old times."?Lewitton {Me.) Journal. I Settled. Smith?Brown, tho old bachelor, said ho would never marry. Jones?That's a fact. I've heard him say so myself. S.?Well, I'll bet ho'11 be married in a month. J.?What makes you think so? 8.?He's flirting with a widow.?Botton Courier. An Appropriate Diet, "I smelt cake baking this morning, Maria. What kind was it?" inquired Mr. Jinks. no J flt.-l! T 1 -*oponge ca&c, ucar. d.iiui i put some on tho tablo for dinner?" "No/' said Jinks gloomily, * 'save it till somo of your relations come to see us again. It'll be more appropriate."? Merchant Traveler. \ Fur boas are again in vojue. LADLES' DEPARTMENT* Danger or Wearlojr JSarrlnB*. Dr. Morin, a French physician, in liis new work on tlxo hygiencies of beauty, makes a dead set against earrings. In numbers of cases he has known erysipelas proceed from their use. The idea that they aro good for weak eyes lie quite disposes of. It is possible, lie says, that in eases of inflamed eyes they might act as a counter irritant, but if they did they would mako tho lobe of the ear, which, not being rich in blood eesels, has littlo recuperative vitality, in a t-tatc of permanent ulceration. There is no surer test of a good or bad constitution than the state of an car which has been pierced and exposed to the irrij tation of heavy earrings. If the lobes keep red and swollen, they proclaim bad [ blood and scrofulous tendencies.?Lon! don New?. ' Whore do Fathloui Start! In Paris, most people will tell you. j But where in Puris and by whose authorij ty? There is no answer. It is like the ancient explanation of the support of the earth. It rested on the shoulders of a giant; the giant stood on the back of a turtle; the turtlo was sustained by a dense cloud ; the cloud rested on?it was none of your business on what. But just suppose that one could solve the mystery ahd stand face to faco with the woman who sets the fashion for all the women of a country or a continent, what an absolute queen he would behold! The crrcat orirrinid dudo wlm Huppoab tlm shape of the shoe, thr ' ifht of the hat, and tho volume of the trouscr legs for millions of his fellow crcaturcs has a say that might havo satisfied the greedy Alexander, who, after he had the earth, wanted something else. Truly, fashion is fearful and a wonderful thing!?Atlanta Constitution. The Uttle tJIrl of To-tlny. A handsome, well-formed girl of 12 years who is elaborately dressed three or four times a day, whoso only chaperon seems to be her maid, who walks the veranda of a large hotel with the savoir faire of the woman of tho world, who sees her bed usually at 12 o'clock, who donates her stocking as a souvenir to her boy lovers, and who, with more self-possession than sweetness, is quite capable of asking for the best place in the dance or at tho table, can not, will not grow into the sort of a woman that one would want boys to marry; and yet this is the typical small girl. I quite bolieve that she comes usually of the nouveauriche, for people who aro really good form do not cast thero children upon the dangerous waters of public parlors in large hotels. Good, strong, hearty, healthful children in picturesque clothes?for they do not need to be ugly to be proper?give pleasure to everybody; but ''Frou-Frou" in miniature, like an imitation of a puppet, is to bo frowned upon, derided, and eventually driven from position, because she is neither good for the present nor docs she promise better for the future.?New York Star. WhttlVomin Need. Women need to cultivato their own resources more. Thoro are soino who early recognize tho difference of value between tho perishable and imperishable things of this earth. Every valuable possession has its added care and expense. People who were once in moderate circumstances, or poor, even, who grew wealthy, look back upon tho old life as freer from cares and happier; yet, if they were to go back to their early and simple stylo of living tho world would severely criticise them. Every woman needs to keep up her list of old friends and to mako new ones, too; the family and childron cannot meet all the wants that middle aged people must have for friendship. Not any woman is bo busy but that she can find time to write an occasional letter. If the friend to whom she owes a letter would come to see her, she could lay aside work and talk to her, and urge her to stay longer. On A l?nn ofAn /\n ?5 vmv vi??? wnv|/ v/U bUO OVIUCIf UI LJLIU HSK of taking pneumonia in winter, to talk to a friend for half an hour, and why caDnot friend* bo civil when they do not meet? Pure air every day, which housekeepers need so much, would freshen them up until twice the amount of work could bo accomplished that there is, without the dragging sensation which one has who stays so closely indoors. There are many mothers and children who do not go out for a week of snowy or stormy weather, and all grow irritable or cross, becnuso they have failed to provide themso ves with proper protections against storms?overshoes, leggings, rain coats or umbrollas. Tho English family entire goes out rain or shine. Health ranks first with them, as it should.? Good Housekeeping. A Novel Method of Securing a Beautiful Complexion. A very clever lady and tho wife of a popular naval officcr gavo mo a now idea of great social iraportanco tho other day, says a Washington letter. Sho was running on about society matters generally, when I remarked that a certain young lady possessed remarkably pretty cheeks, having that peculiarly lovely tinge of pink rarely seen among fashion able women and which cannot bo imitated with tho brush. "O, p3haW. You men don't know anything about it. Tho same effect ia produced by a syringe." "The syringe!" I exclaimod. "Yes. "Why, don't you know that fashionable women restoro tho color in tho checks by liypordermic injections? They i have a small syringe, tho same as is used | for administcrinijan anaesthetic, and with I i this they inject a coloring fluid beneath the skin. Peacliblow checks arc very desirable, and if there is no blood j i there to mako them, tho min- j utc veins can be forced full ' of coloring matter which answers for j blood. The trouble is it is only tempo I rnry and will eventually injure the skin permanently. But what of that, j Drunkenness is only a temporary pleasure ami will eventually ruin those who indulge; so why sneer afc women who wish to look interesting for an hour? There arc women I know who habitually resort to tho syringo for their .color. When the effect is gone?that is, when the coloring matter is absorbed in the skin and curried away by the blood? the face is absolutely ghastly. The unskillful use of the instrument is quite as disastrous. There are tho daughters of Admiral , both of whom use it. By nature they haven't a particle of color. One of them?well, if you have ever seen her with her checks showing tho pricks of the syringe, you will sec a sight. I mean if you ever sec her in the daylight. The coloring matter forccd into tho checks has been taken up into the glands beneath the eyes and carried into tho end of the nose. She looks like?like? what do you call it??yes, an old "bum " It is too funny for anything. Ther-'3 the other difficult}', don't you see; you can't tell -whore the color is finally going to show up." Ftililon Notes. [ Tailor jackets of diagonal cloth arc most worn. Round hats for liitlc girls have very high crowns. Persian material with chenille fiowcrs is used for mantels. Stand-up bows of old picot-cdgcd ribbon trim many handsome bonnets. Rough camel's-hair fabrics of every description arc popular for tailor-made gowns. Favorite novelties in fancy ribbons include those with pompon and other fancy edges. Lacc effects arc seen in silk and wool fabrics and in braids and other woven trimmings. Fur boas are from two to three yards long, and some have tassels and others balls on the end. Furs, especially Astrakhan and black marten, will be used to trim cloth suits for midwinter wear. New winter bonnets show velvet roses, or petals stripped from the flower, massed in their pointed fronts. Alpaca is now brought out in new colorings and improved texture that drapes better than the old. Most brides prefer a tulle veil. It is now arranged to hang back away from the face, and is very becoming. Ornaments for the hair, judiciously and effectively arranged, aro fashionable. Fancy shell pins arc much used. Cut chcnilld trimming for panels and bodico trimming, with Persian design, is shown in all the seasonable colors. Velveteen, corduroy, and cordereinc are all much worn as jackets, rcvers, and parcmenfcs of soft wool flocks. Velvet bonnets aro worn this season with cloth and fancy woolen suits, especially when velvet or velveteen lorms part of the costume. TJbcrc is a growing fancy for all sorts of insect ornaments, such as butterflies, dragon ^ies, and tho like, both in gold pins and in gems. Old-fashioned button-moulds, with tho dress material put on over them by hand, aro being used. Black satin buttons are mado in this way. Pelisses of gray plush, lined with pink, ore coming in vogue for babies' wear. The hood must match the pelisse, and be tied with soft pink satin strings. Hoop earrings, now so fashionable, comprise plain gold hoops, knife-edge hoops, filigree bands, hoops of twisted pattern, a hoop of ?old beads, and circlcs of pearls, diamonds and other gems. ^ lUUtllllli IIIIIIIUIIT* "I think," said the Honorable Jason Dalzoll the other day, "I nevor was better come up with than 1 was once by a youngster in the school which I taught after I failed in business and settled with my creditors for 30 per cent. The arithmetic class was on the floor, and I addressed one of the bright littlo fellows with: "'Richard, how many cents mako a dollar?" ' Little Dick looked slyly from ono to another of his mates, and hesitatingly replied: " 'Well, um?uth?Sometimes some an1 sometimes more.' 44 4What do you mean, Richard,' 11 asKca. " Woll,1 said ho, 'when you buy things 100 cents makes a dollar, but when you pay for 'cm 80 '11 do it.'"?Chicago THE FAMILY PHYSICIAN Hint a to Oyapaptica. Much of tho value obtained from mutton depends upon its cooking and previous tenderness. It should be kept till tender, and the timo will depend upon the weather. The tenderness of meat and its cooking cause tho fibres thereof to bo more easily broken up in the stomach; it is thus digested without delay. Beefsteak should be most tender before being submitted to the process of cooking. It should always bo done?or rather underdone?over a clear fire of coal cinders or coke, which is better still. mi -i ? - -- auo uyspeptic "will ao well to givo hashes and stews ft wide berth, uuless they arc exceptionally well cooked. Tripe is an easily digested and most succulent supper dish. Now as to pork. For a man who is in good health, and has the opportunity of taking constant exercise in tho open air, this food is good and nutritious, but the invalid and dyspeptic must bewar of it. Ham or bacon, with eggs, in the morning, however, is tolerably easily digested. So is pig's liver with bacon; and cold pig's check is good cither as a supper or breakfast dish to those in ordinary health. After pork comes veal in tho scalo ol indigcstibility, so that, on the whole, my best advice to the dyspeptic is to leave both alone, with the exception of frizzled thinly-cut bacon as a relish in the morning. Sweetbreads, whether calvc3' 01 sheep's, aro very nutritious and assist in the digestion of other foods. Oil the whole, tho hcalth-seokcr will ^ O wnl 1 fn mnl/n 4?C vi? i?w uiui\w wuu uuaii v<i iuu oiiuu|j nnd ox, in moderate quantities, his staple, so far as albuminoid feed is concerned, but lie mint vary this constantly with chicken, game and fish when in season. lie will hardly need to bo told that beef and mutton, when good and properly cooked, give him life and energy, and therefore comfort, and to a groat degree happiness; but I may remind him that an undue proportion of animal food renders him more liable to inflammatory troubles, whether acute or chronic *, nnd again, if subject to rheumatism or other blood complaint, he must be cautious in the use of such viands. ? Cassell's Magazine. riiiloso.jliy of the Falling Leaf. Leaves are the most important part of the plant. A portion of the food which plants require is conveyed through the roots, but by far the larger portion is absorbed through the leaves. Leaves perform for plants a like function, to eome extent, to that which the stomach does for man and tho other orders of the animal kingdom which possess that organ. They assimilate the plant's food, converting inorganic matter into organic. Leaves are, green because it is only in green matter that assimilation occurs. The food is gathered by tho leaves from tho sunlight, air nnd moisture, or rain. The larger tho leaves tho more food they absorb if exposed to sunlight and air, and, in some eases, the more rapidly the plant grows. At the end of the summer the leaf becomes loaded with solid inorganic matter and its functions are impaired. Its color then becomes modified. The green huo changes in the caso of leaves of trees into yollow, brown, scarlet or other color, depending on the variety of tree, the condition of the atmosphere ns respects the moisture and the presence or abscnco of frost. Where the air is drj'est and frosts come earliest after the leaf begins to change it* color, the hues are the brightest and most varied. When tho green color has vanished tho leaf, being then incapable of receiving food from tho elements, dries up and dies. But not one leaf falls unless wrenched off by external forces without leaving behind it in embryo the bud which is to unfold into a leaf and perform a liko scrvico for tho plant in tho succeeding year. LovoMe, Love My Dog. "Will your dog bite, Johnnie?" asked Johnnie's sister's beau of that youngster, as ho met him with an ugly cur tied to a string. "Nary bite," replied Johnnie, confidently. The young man put out his hand to pat tho brute, and tho result wna ? ft snapped finger. He jerked away his hand in a rage and exclaimed: "Why, you miserable little rascal, you said that nasty cur wouldn't bile." "Oh, no," said Johnnie, coolly. "Yes, you did; confound you." "No, I didn't. You said, "will your dog bito Johnnie?" and I said ho wouldn't, and he won't. lie never bit Johnnie in all his born days and it wouldn't be good for 'im if he did. Bet your life that dog knows what to bite," and Johnnie went off whistling, with tho dor* frntfinor n 1 r?nrr nf liia tm?lo 1 ~~i-: ?O o ~tt ? " ? iwurv. II back over his stump tail at Johnnie's sister's beau. ? Tid-Bit*. A Dog of Farts. Eagloy.-?"That do~ of yours is a dog of parts, Bailey." Bailey.?4'Yes, indeed. How did you come to notice it?" Bagloy.?"Well, he took part of my coat-tail yesterday. If you think he has any use for the other I'll bring it around. ?Judo*. 3r> CHILD HEN'S COLUMN. The Roman Why. >y Is in the parlor, Fun is'on tbo stair, Bustlo in the kitcbon, Oilors in tho air! Lau^htor in each dimple, 1--1111 ?? in ovory eyei Happy little maiden. Can you toll mo why? Uncles, aunts and cousins Coming gaily in? "What a glad commotion! What a joyful din! Seo tlio hearty greotlngs Given ono and all, Listen to the echoes Ringing through tho hall! Oh, it's glad Thanksgiving! Joy of all tho year! Nothing half so happy? Nothing half so dear! Song and sport and plgasuro Make the moments fly? Happy hearts and thankful? That's the reason why! ?Mrs. Ji. N. Turner. Urantlpa's Queer Cane, It was a cold winter night, seventy years ago. Littlo Polly had a "breath hole" on the frosty window pane, so sho could peep out and watch Jonas watering the cattlc at the brook, and see the red ^ sunset clouds; and there wa3 grandpa ' coming home from the woods, with an ax on his shoulder, and a cano in his 1 other hand. He came into the large, warm kitchen where she was, a few minutes later. "Here, Polly," he said, 4'come and see my new canc." Polly ran to examine it. It was slender and tapering, the head looked just like a snake's head, and it w;is striped and spotted like a snake. "It looks just like a snake," said Polly, "only it is too straight and stiff. Where did you get it, grandpa?" "I found it in a hollow log I was chopping to-day. I thought it would make me a nice cane, so I walked home with it to-night; and it did very well. It's a little slender to be sure; but it seems stout, and I don't bjlicve it would break very easy." 'It's nice and smooth," said Polly, "and it's pretty, too, if it didn't look so i. much like a snake. I don't like snake3 very well." "Don't you ? Well, set it up in the corner, now, and put the chairs about the table. I see Jonas coming in and ] want my supper." Polly set the cano in the cornet near the great fire-place, and just then grandma came in from the back buttery, with a bowl of apple sauce. Jonas came in with a pail of milk, and soon thev all sat down to sunnnr in fVm pleasant firelight. They had just finished eating, when there was a littlo noise in the corner. They all looked around, but no cane stood there. Instead, a snake was squirming and twisting on the floor. "For tho land sakes!" cried grandma, "how on earth did that snake get into the house ?" "I found him frozen up stiff in a log," said grandpa, "and walked home with him for a cane. He made a very good one, but now lie has thawed out, Jonas, I guess you had better tako him out and chop off his head." "Which Jonas was very willing to do. Tommy's fr'rlgtit. juary inougnt it was timo ner rabbits had their breakfast. Then her chickens must be fed, too. Mary was a faithful girl, and did not forget her pets. She put some corn in a little basket; this was for the chickens. Some pieces of carrot went in next for the rabbits. 'Come, Tommy, and carry the basket for me," said Mary to her little brother. Tommy was delighted to bo useful. He put on his Scotch cap, with a feather in it. Then he followed Mary with the basket. "Oh, goody 1" cried Mary, as she peeped into tho rabbit-house. There were several littlo rabbits in the corner. They had been born during the night. I "I must make them a fresh bed," said Mary. "You wait her a few minutes. little man." Mary lifted her brother upon tho flat roof of tho rabbit house. Ho would be out of danger there, she thought, and would not soil his clothes in the mud. Then she ran to tho barn for some hay. Soon two great geese strolled into tho yard. They marched up to the rabbithouse and stretched thoir long necks towaru Tommy. "Cooah! Cooahl" they cried. Then they bowed and nodded and screamed again. Tommy was frightened and began to cry. Ho struck at tho greeso with his cap, but they only screamed tho louder Mary now camo running back with tho hay. "Cooah!" cried tho geese, and "Ur-r-r-rl" roared Tommy. "You poor boy," said Mary, laughing, "if you had given them some corn from the basket they would have boon happy. They did not want to hurt you. They were only very hungry." TP/\*V?mit cfArvrvnrl ? A AVHiuijr oku|i|><;u V.(JF1UJJ UIIU Hi row OU( some corn. Then tho geese stopped crying also. Tommy knows moro about geese now than he did before.?Our Litt 6 Om$. Life is short, bat it isn't half so short as some men are through life.