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t r > . T- r \ I w * twin ,+4. 4< *' k ?W . .t ' ViS. I* VOL. IV. V DARLIROTONv' S. C., FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1894. NO. 44. NEVER MIND IT, JTever mind the weatuu, V H it’* wet or dry; Sinking on together,— Be nprlngtime by an’ byt . Nerer mind the weather, Tt it’s hail or enow; Somewhere stare are shinin'— Somewhere roses grow. Never mind the weather, When the ttre-flakes tall; Winter time's a cornin’— Ice enough tor alii ' , Kever blind the weather— World is mighty big; Keep np with the Ugktnin'— Let the thunder dance a jigi Never mind the weather, Taketho good an’ ill; Good Lord made it for you, An’ He’s runnin' of H still) —[Atlanta Constitution. AKIITEB OF THE MTO. BY MARION V. DORSEY. L. W- The Coploys were spending the winter In Munich, so thut Burt might go on to Heidelberg and Ethel pursue her musioal studies under good masters. There was another reason, too. Theirineome was not what it used to be, and having decided that a sojourn in this tie.*man city was the most economical plan, they were soon busy settling themselves in a quaint old house' on the Carlinen-Plata. Mar garet found it quite possible to make the room . look familiar and home like. The same pictures, books and bric-a-brac were placed as they had been in the colonial mansion on Mount Vernon place, in far-away Bal timore, and it is the household gods, after all, that reconcile us tothein- evitable changes. . It .was for her own room that she kept’ her father’s portrait, the un opened brass box bequeathed to her in his will, and the musty books, which she aloue found inter esting. Here everything showed age but the . reflection in the toilet mir ror. The windows were draped in the tapestry brought from En gland by Sir Lionel Coploy, the first Oovemor of the Province of Ma ryland. Over the fireplace, immedi ately under her father’s aristocratic profile, her revolutionary ancestor’s sword was crossed on its scabbard. A valance of inuch-mended Cluny lace, the gift of. Queen Apne .to a maid of honor, who .was of Marga ret’s name and. lineage, festooned the mantel edge; -ind on the wall, ••framed in relics ,of ^charter oak,” Hting the origilml grant for Bonny : ! Venture, their homestekd in Cecil, bearing Lord Bultimorc sscal and sig nature., Only in such fitting environment .was thW fair, desv^ndant of the cava liers content to dreaiuher dreams and see her visicfiisr and. now they were not always glorified by vanished -greatness; youth and love were striv ing for ^nastery over the hereditary Jemleiicy to sacrifice the living.pres ent to an errant veneration for the past. ... . -t. • •* People invariably called Margaret Copley a distinguished looking girl, and yet her beiiufy was far from be- inj that assertive type which UfiUi lly wins’tli)^ expression of admi ration. She was .as fine, fragile and polished ns one of her grandamels Sevres teacups,,’but an analytical observer would find himself bajfiled by the resisting' power that some times shone in her soft, brown eyes and was indicated by her delicately- firm chin. Her full, curved tips, like those of a' bas-relief, would have, laughed to scocn the idea that she was ‘‘classifiable." She held herself to be something distinctly different from all oilier young women, in tlidt . she .was self styled, progressive, coh- servative, and that rara avis, a f6ini- T nine antiquarian. j The months passed pleasantly and' quickly while Urn Copleys were mak ing acquaintance; with the city of cathedrals and. palaces, and their daHy mail left thorn nothing to com plain of in their iriends across the sea. Paul Harco'urt, the good comrade of Margaret’s childhood and girlhood, had begun by writing her letters filled with enthusiasm for the work he-had planned to do as a scientific specialist at the John Hopkins Hos pital, where ha hud already won dis tinguished recognition for the suc cessful operation of his advanced Ideas in the department of clinics. He was intensely, eagerly modern, and held precedent in veneration only in so far as it'gave the clearest reasons for the infallibility of its why and wherefore. As Margaret Conley's absence lengthened he no longer tried to re strain his pen from gliding into per sonal allusions which should convey some intimation of the hope he now held dearer than fame. One day she had been many hours at the Pinacotheca, drinking in the beauties of Rafael le, Rembrandt and Fra Bartolomeo, and threw herself, tired and aimless, upon the lounge in , her mother's sitting room, and lay there in calm enjoyment of Ethel’s akilfuily executed fantasy, when her rosy cheeked maid brought in the letteis. There were two for Margaret and several for tier mother, who Vos re turning oalls. « "One from Paul,” she said to herself, with delightful anticipation, < “and -one from Bert,” with much 11 less Interest. ,. From tlie next room (he melody still rippled forth, and on. the table ‘ ... .a * > clwAtoahir the-cetfch •HMajch of Parma vloiels bteatlieJw.tH 'Exquisite fragSfcnce which, with in^ fiipsic fifid the words Wt ^vemisteMwg Anve on the written page, me’ndedlo&ither lif- a soul subdttTSgJnifior |rlq, >v . •‘|Ie loves nagiJUe. loves v meT^Oh, dream of tnj|.,.llfe „! "... sil^ jfdeiiliurjt' lng |ier fa?? uppp her doided-nwris as iffo hide from unseeing "eyes its supreme exaltatiho, ' A new glory- had coine’trpori* the; earth, the glory that-srowtisrbtt* tli«i one 'moment of hope's fruition; ' 1 otiil knew now tliat tiie -Hcifprom ise,,^! the ^6ii31 bill ties of - Panl Har- court’s earnest, liable manhood were hers to share and encourage. Mile, knew noljr. that achievement and fame were lesS dear to him than her answering love. The Chopin fantasy rippled on. from faintest sounds to silence. presently Ethel eiuhe In and pinked up the paper, that came with their mail. Bcntming it over site said sud denly ;—-' , Herp , ; U : , something tnat wilLfnterest you,.sister. It’s about the historical, society. It,, oilers a thousand dollars for some eld recerds. Mojgaret, are yotthalSepf" Bill no answer.’’• ‘-‘Qracious!” said EUiel, tiptoeing away, “I thought she would wake from ties.dead.if any one mentioned oldjecard.,!' \ .. - When her sister was out of hear ing Margaret raised herself on her elbow and reached for the flowers “Ah,” she said, laying thorn against her flushed face, "I don’t want to think about the dead past just now, but about—about—-the ra diant future I” Tt was not her habit to mention getting a letter from Bert until after she had read it for fear It should con tain some confidence not intended for an eye or ear but hers. He had promised to confess to her if lie slmurd be guilty even of “gentle manly peccadillos,” as he termed his waywardness; so it Was not until she had kissed her mother and Ethel a liappler good night than usual that she sat down byherown lamplight to read this one. Bert had been very complaining of late, and it was always money, money. She had been sending him nearly all her own allowance, and did not see how she could do more; but the first few lines showed her tiiat there was something worse than a renewed demand for money, and that disgrace, open disgrace, would be tt»* penalty if it were not forthcom- in ?> With white lips and eyes aflame with indignation, she read on, each word branding shame upon her heart and brain. It ran:— “My Dearest and Best Sister—Do you remember what you said to me on the ocean, abou| helping me out of ,a scrape? Well, I’m in the worst one you could imagine, and, Marga ret, you must help me, or oui good name will he blackened forever. While half crazed with wine I took $800 from my room mate Simpson—you recollect him—and udozen of us went on a t<in days’ spree'-did not know what K was doing, Sis, Indeed, I didn't, and that cad says he always despised our pretentions, uhd will cer tainly give me over t^s a s-oundrel unless every cent is refunded in a $1,000 for such information from an authoritative source.-'-? - - ■ . “Til* braes box !” ehe cried hyster ically. ' . From the feqret drawer 6r an an tique escrftoHo; ’ih the corner of the room, she took a tiny key, with a bit of black ribbon tied to it, and hastily fitted it into the curious lock which she hid studied and WOfidcred about from, toddling infancy. In all her imaginings she had never dreamed that, tike Pandora’s boa., it held her ewfiwcWi ; There Wefd dOifefii (tl parchments. Spine of which dated back to Ciftl- borne’s time, and there, Usd together with personal. letters of Sir Lionel Copley; was the long ufHMing list. THS old fascination Came over her in full foscA. Sjft'bffekS; papers, yveighW, •everything;’tin tlid Curling parchment, flatterilnglt out bn the table before her. There were many familiar names, those of her life long friends, and idany of Whom she had never hoard:’ LoW doWrt Ori the list her eye fell updfi the Words; pale, dim, but legible—“Paul tfarOotlrt, valet.” Minutes ticked off into hours, and she still sttl gazltlg, till all the page seemed covered With “Valet, Valet,’ and presently the odious word bogan to move upon the time worn docu ment, It had legs, arms—a peri wig ! It Was bowing servilely. Now it is brushing a pair Of top boots, and all, is is bringing towels and the bath! All the cavalier blood in her veins seemed breathing, beating in an an gry stlrge agaiilst hef throbbing tem ples, and misery, the like of which she had not thought it possible for mortal to suffer, laid hold upon her soul. The shame of Bert’s conduct was nothing to this shaine-—nothing. “Oh, heaven 1” she groaned In ago 1 ny of spirit, making a groping effort io find the window; “I am .going tittd:” She got the sttsli up ttlld let the damp, refreshing air blow from the dark, echoing square. “This trouble of Beris lias been too much for me. It is only my craze! fancy. Tiiat is not there at all.” Still moving unsteadily, site open ed a cabinet near by and took out a finely finished photograph. “No, no,” she said sternly; “that patrician nose, that sensitive mouth did not come of a valet’s stock. But why am 1 trying to convince myself? Don’t I know it was all an optical il lusion?” Replacing the manly presentiment of the modern Paul Harcourt in the cabinet, Margaret Copley stood ir resolute, and then, as if moved by.au irresistible impulse, dragged herself back to the table and leaned against it, toying with its contents, while de laying the moment of sure convio tion. Paul fiarccrtlft add valet,’ as big a* jrimer letters.” •“And valet?’*’ she queried, be* ow her breath; “no, that was not .here.” “Ofi, but it KM,” Bert insisted; ‘I swear by the dteflnal gratitude to fou I saw the ‘and’ as plain as day. lirough the glass, but it was too aded to see without, so traced the etters in pale Ink and made them ook just like the vest. It wasn’t my harm, was it? V ■ On the instant the great ball rang mt its first jubilant note, and she vas left alone with more .music in -ier heart than Was pealing’from the Iproats of ali'HMld shoifistefs in Munich.—[Katoffiefd's Washington. month. "I feel more for you and mamma p»7n“ and bewilderm7nt“ than myself. - ’ f • “Yours, in everlasting regret, /'. >.•* ‘Bert.” She sat tike one to whom the death sentence had just -been read—wide eyed,.dazed. Slowly tb'O reality of it *11, its horrible truthfulness, left its outward sjgn of her inward conflict. The letter fell from: tier trembling •fingers to tlie floor, yvhhfe it lay with its flippant announceiiiqnt of a great crtm® flaunting itself shamelessly, a crime whose consequences were so brutally thrust upon her. .Hhe dreA - back tlte-fcjds of her long 'clinging gbwn from eonttact with thl miserable sheet, anjl - pushing it froiVi ’her with the toe- of her slim, arched slipper, stoodiookingdown on it with no, trace of 'jjity about her eyes or mbutli; onl£ sbqrn unuttera ble. . “There, is a mefe. ‘gentlemanly peccadillo,’ I suppose,’'■slio said in a harsh, unnatural-voTbeV “A Copley I —a Copley! Oh, my- father, that a son of yours should have done mis tiling 1” and she threw herself pros- , irate before Copley’s unresponsive; effigy. “Help me'to keep disgrace’ from your dear', dbar’ ififflie. At any cost ' i me. Oh, iny dear father, it sha!. ,e kept unsulliedl”-• 8* i ./ there tolT tne ^reat .cqthpi' di ' k struck one, try ing to-make ’ . rut of this terrible difficulty, ‘ 1 ling nwne. ^ She knew that quarterly i'hc.ome-was noi due tdi' weeks, and besides she hud breathed a vow to her father, whose spliit she /eit to be a real presence, that tier " sweet, timid mother and Ethel should be spared all knowledge of Bert’s sin if she albne could pre vent Its exposure. ,, Suddenly, like an ihipiration, she thought of what her - sister bad said about the notice in. tlie*Baltin[ore paper when she had hpen so wrapped in love’s young'dreani that she scarcely heeded her, took her'night cgndle and cautiously made her way dpwn stairs. There lay the paper. All was still, the quiet sleepers tin- cqnscigus of the tragedy being en acted under the same roof that shel tered them. • Back to her room once more, she sought tfi'e paragraph with feverish eagerness till At igst it caught her eye. A long account of the Maryland Historical Society wound up by say ing; “And those old records, dating from 1 about 1(585 to' 1700, have never been found. Amci.g them is sup posed to be a list of those who emi grated to tho prov[Yice at the time, aiifl for the su'ko of important work to be ..completed the society offers ■” • •'Viv: .. .. / * A small bronze statuette of Clio, with recording quill in hand, weighted one corner of the record. She snatched it up and flung it through the open window. “Break into a thousand pieces, liar!” she cried passionately'; “break as you have broken my heart,” and, stooping quickly, she once more saw the—towels and bath. “Father,”, ,she sobbed despairingly, her vehement emotion having spent itself and left, her benumbed wit! father, 1 loved him so, and—I love him still. I would give'hny life to keep the world from seeing this blasting word, but I am your daughter. .1 will save the name of Copley. That day—you went away—you said .•—’Do what is best with them.’ Oh, is.l^ best to sell these tilings to save ourselves,or -best to destroy it, for Paul’s sake?” She fell heavily, closing down tlie lid of the brass box with a metallic crasli that brought her mother and Ethel running, panic stricken, to hei room. They , hurriedly got her into bed and sent for a physician. “She has worn herself out ovei those musty old papers,” Mrs. Cop ley complained resentfully. “My poor, dear child . will kill herseli worrying over such things.” In the delirium of fever which fol lowed she talked so incessantly about Bert that the doctor ordered him home. . “I shall certainly send it, Bert, never fear,” she whispered to him W[ben he bent down to kiss her one day. She thought he had just come,' but he bad been there a week. “My head is quite clear now. Go, get that parchment on the- table. You-will see a list of names on it. Yes,'’that’s it. Seal it up and direct urthe Maryland Elizabeth Histor ical Society and inclose a note telling ’the librarian, it was among papa’s papers; he’ll know. And tell him he must telegraph payment to our bank on the day of its receipt. Send it now, and please don’t ask me any questions; I’m tired,” and she turned her quivering face to the wall. ^ ■Some days later, Margaret, pale and sad eyed, was lying once more on the sitting room lounge. Her own room was a horror to her. For the first time in her life its antiquity seemed naught but ghostliness, and she felt Its atmosphere would stifle her feeble efforts toward regaining health and strength. Bert sat beside her, waiting to take his mother to a choral service in the cathedral. "By the way, sis,” he said, care lessly, “whose name do you suppose I saw on the old list, or whose ances tor’s, rather. ‘‘Whose?” she answered,^Intly, 'deftly holding a large feathtr'fan at a screening angle. Bert leaned back in Ills eliair and gave qno of his careless laughs. “Why I happened to lay my mag- nyfylng glass down on your table one day when I first came, and going 1 tq^ick it up later I .gjiHuijSr, ft fi» i-J** '< • . , RICHEST ‘WHVEHiBITY. area* WlkWlTytftmfi'teunaea by Leiorid fitanferd. Tlie newspaper acccJUiits of the es- ,ate left by the late Senatof Btan- !ord have started speculation as to jhe valiie of his endowment of the initersity (vliidi bears his name, lay? tfie 1 Sari fraricise'O Argonaut. Few people hav'd Utlj definite idea of the actual sum of money represented by the property which will come into ;lie pOsSseesion of the trustees of the university wliefl MfS: Stanford dies. That property consists of three pieces of land—1’alo Alto, 8,400 iCrcs: of which a large portion is tinder high cultivation, being planted ,fl vines which have beeil fonnd to mit the soil. Gridloy, 22,000 acres, .vhicli have been plarited itt Wheat, tnd will probably be gradually planted in vines, and Vina, 59,000 lores, of which between 4,000 and 5,000 acres kfe planted in vines. Of these three the Viiia estate Is, of course, tlie most valuable. There ire, in round numbers, 8,000,000 {rape VirieS on the estate, which yielded last j’ear It,000 tons of jrtipcs. When all the vine's flow planted are in fall bearing, the pro ject will be something like 20,000 ions of grafies per year; and the vineyard is growing frOltl year to yea r. A large portion of the Vina estati is used for raising horses of all tht various breeds, ai.d other portioni ire employed as cow-pastures, Sheep- pastures and liog-pasturos. It is difficult to form an adequate idea of tlito money value of such land at the'present time, and almost impos sible to guess what it will be when a bejjtgr knowledge of the peculiarities of soil and climate'and the handling of the grapes will enable California Kjnes to command the same price as the foreign product^ But land which will grow five tons of grapes to the acre lihs a definite and well-known value in franco and Germany, and tliere is no reason why it'should lie different liere. It is .Worth as nearly as possible $2,000 'in acre in the Gironde a-nd on the Rhine, and. though it could not be sold for any such sum at present in California, it will earn interest on that amount. Thus the Vina vineyard alone repre sents an endowment to the college of f8,000,000 and a present income of About half a million a year.' Tills, it will be remembered,is' exclusive of the Palo Alto property, tlie Gridley ranch and tlie 50 odd thousand acres Pf .land at Vina not planted In vines, dtoil the land in the three properties iidjivh is suited to vine growing were jmnbted in vines it would represent the’; enormous sum of $200,000,000 ituji aii annual income of over $11,- OSti'OOO a year. ( , No university in America has"any thin;; like such an endowment. Ac- lording to tlie college registers, the leading universities are endowed, as follows: 1 Columbia $18,000,000 Harvard 11,000,000 Yale 10,000,000 University of California. 7,000,000 John Hopkins 8,000,000 1 The endowment of the Leland Stanford cannot be. added to the list, because no one can tell the real ambunt. The Vina vineyard repre- jents $8,000,000 at present, with a peisible extension of over 10 times that amount in the early future; but ’no one possesses the information re quired to appraise Palo Alto or Qrid-' ley. It may be said, without fear of contradiction, that its resources are far in excess of thos’q/iii any other educational estublishmeift in the world, and that'it will never need to deny itself anything, from a library to an observatory ora laboratory, on the ground of expense. It is quite possible that when the propertfes which are devoted to its support yield their full income, it will find it possible to abolish all fees for tuition and to reduce the cost for board be low that which a pupil would cost at home. >•' : ■ Wadding of tha Future. Here’s a sample of a wedding no-. .ties len years hence, as foreseen by tlio Atchison Globe: “The bride looked very well in a traveling dress, but all eyes were centered on tho groom. He wore a dark suit that fitted perfectly his manly form, a large bouquet decorated’ his coat' lapel and in his daintily gloved hand lie carried a bouquet of American beauties. His hair was cut close and a delicate odor of barbers’ oil floated down the aisle as he passed.The young people'will miss him now that he is married He i» loved by all for his many accomplishments, his tender graces and his winning ways. The bride commands a good salary as a bookkeeper in St. Joseph and the groom will miss none of the luxuries to which be had been accuatomed. A crowd of pretty young men saw them off at the depot. For mhtronlyjvoar there are #ibbon tVimmings of iriblre, with jet orna ments placed along tbAicenter^ftlul point .d’esprit quWlihg-af fJie THE JOKER’S BUDGET. JESTS AND YARNS BY FUNNY MEN 6F THE PRESS. Not Quit* the’Sam*--How Ho Did It--Circumstances Alter Cases*. Etc.. Etc. • NOT QUITE THE SAME. Hand in hand The lovers go, Tlie moon, the silent Lake, a row. A month has passed, They’re married now A word, a look Or two, a row. —[Puck. . HOW HE Hit* IT.' McDuff—How ^eacldsey get his dust? McGuff—He raised tlie wind, and the duet was a natural consequence. —[Truth. CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES. Anna—Engaged to Bob Scott I Why, Berth, you always abuse him so much. Bertha—Yee, but how could I know that he would propose to me?— [Truth. WELL WARRANTED. Kawler lynn—Is there any war rant for the statement that Kasherly lias skipped the country? Editor—Yep; two. Sheriff’s got ’em both.—[Buffalo Courier. THE PEEKKK. He heard them kissing on tlie sly And peeked in through tile door, And then lie cried in accents high, “Say, sister, what’s the score?” —[Detroit Free Press. NOT AT ALL WOKKIEI). Amelia—Oh, Mr. Clasper, where Is your arm? James—Oh, never mind my arm; I’ll look for it when 1 want it.— [Puck. DEEPLY WRONGED. W’ild Westerner (fiercely)—In your last paper, sir, you said I had killed twenty-seven men, sir! Editor — Well, and wasn’t that statement correct? W’ild Westerner (still more fierce ly)—No, sir; twenty-eight, sir; twenty-eight. HER EXPERIENCE WAS DIFFERENT. “Poor Eve!” soliloquized tlie phi- losoplier; ’*1)0 is blamed for all tlie sins committed by her daughters.” “I wish that were true,” said his wife. “Is it not so?” asked tlie sage "No, indeed 1 When I do anything amiss you blame me.”—[New York Press. V^NOT TIIAT IMPRESSION. “That is a wonderful work of na ture,”, said tlie man who was visiting Niagara Falls for tlie first time. “Prettv Mg,” replied the hotel keeper. . "I don t . liow anybody could contemplate it without feeling terri bly insignificant.” ■ ! “Well, I suppos^it good many peo ple do feel that way. But you see, most of tlie people who stop at tins house are brides itiut grooms. ”—[De troit F-ee Press. A SURE SIGN. Mrs. Rounder—Y’ou had been drinking pretty lijjuviiy wfcen you came in last nighf.; 1- . { Mr. '' under—How do you know? Mrs. .mder—You tried to light your cigar at the rcflpcj4on of your nose in the pier-glass. THE BOOK REqUIltE’ti.'' ' '’•” ! Mr. Bondstock (tenderly)—Do 'ou think you could learn to love me" Miss Wurkum (shyly)—I might [i you gave me lessons from the right* book. > ; ) Mr. Bondstock—What book shall I teach ^ou frofi> Mias Wurkom—Your pocketbook. r-[New York World. » OUT OF HIS LINE. Ada—Flo was just going down for the third time when Dr. Watson dived off a yacht and caught her. Grace—And saved her life! Wasn’t that wonderful? Ada—Yes, for a doctor.—[Life. PERMITTED TO REFER. Chblly Chumpleigh—What do you think? Some people asked me yes terday if we were engaged. Miss Coldeal—Indeed I What did you tell them? Cholly Chumpleigh-I referred them to you. Was that right? Miss Coldeal—Quite right. I never dismiss anybody without a. refer ence. . V ’ A COUNTER IRRITANT. “The man in the next room kept me awake all night snoring. Landlady—Well it won’t happen again. I’ve put a woman with a par rot, a piano and a baby on the other side.—[Chicago Inter Ocean. * I 4*V * * * ' ' UNDOUBTEDLY FOOLISH. “Yes, she is very foolish some times.” „ “What evidence has she ever given of being foolish?” “Well, I have known her to talk to a bride and, try tp ' interest her in la topic that had relation neither to the groom nor the ceremony.—[NewJY’ork Press. HE DIDN’T TIP: , “ Haven’t you forgotten some thing, sir?” said the tip-expectant waiter to Uncle Abner Meddergnyis, as tlie latter rose from tho tublq, ' “Let mo see,” replied the fitment man, looking at his lijiml baggage. . “There's my umbrella and my satph- No, ’they're nil here, but I’m obliged, to you just the same foriybu* though’tfumeA&.- 2 f(l><fyr6}t>Froe P^g, HE KNEW HIS BUSINESS. Judge—When you broke into the library and stole a lot of books, why did you take only the works of class ical authors? Thief—Because, your Honor, mod ern books fetch hardly any price in the market!—fFleigende Blaetter. JUST THE THING. First friend (of intending groom)— Well, we’ll have to give them a pres ent. What will it be and how much shall we spend? Second friend—I don’t know. I’ll go as deep as you. First friend—Let’s send something that will make a big show for our money. Second friend—AIL right. What’s tlie matter with a load of hay.— [Judge. A YOUNG MAN’S TROUBLE. “What’s the matter? You seem to be in a frightful rage this morn ing.” ‘‘I am. You remember the chal lenge sent to a magazine editor?” “Yes.” ‘‘Well, I have received his answer. He says tiiat my manuscript has been received, and that it will be carefully examined in due course of time.—[Washington Star. WILL PUT THIS IN HIS BILL. Doctor (to his patient)—Pardon me, madam, but before prescribing I must know how old you are. “Oh, sir; a lady is only as old as she looks.” “Impossible, madam. You cer tainly must be younger than that.” HER GIFT. Wife—I’m 'so glad you like the cushion, George, for I bought it for your birthday present. You’d spoil it in your library, so we’ll keep it in my boudoir. I suppose you’ll get tlie bill to-morrow—it’s awfully expen sive. AN IMPERTINENCE. “Tiiat was a beautiful composi tion,” she said dreamily. “Y-yes.” replied (the young man who doesn’t know much about music, “it was pretty fine.” ”1 wonder what key it is in?” “It’s down on tlie programme as a nocturne, isn’t it?” “Yes.” “Well, then, I should think if would require a night key.” And all that disturbed Die air was tlie feeble echo'of his own “ha, ha.” —[Washington Star. NOT HER FAULT. “It’s strange that all my friends linta become engaged and I am not,” “It may be, my dear mademoi selle; but you have one consolation. With all their becoming engaged you have the satisfaction of knowing . have siiown yourself more wilting to get married • than any of them.— [Album of Fashion.' • NOT ENTIRELY PARALYZED. “I can hold them, Miss Quick step,” said the young man by tier side, reassuringly, as- the spirited team gave another lunge forward. “You're not afraid, nre'you?” “When it comes to a .showdown, Mr. Hankison,!’ replied tlie you ig woiyaji, holding her hut on with one hand and clinging to‘tlie dashboard [villi tlie other, ‘•‘ydu’ll find I’m not •Kt all shy on sand.”—[Chicago Tri bune. THE BLOW. Anxiously site awaited the decision tiiat was to shape her future life, and when at last tlie old man came from the, interview with iier adorer she was filled with foreboding. “Papa,” she faltered, with trem bling voice,' “how did he strike •you?” .^Tjje pureut gazed gloomily into the ypen grate. .. “ . “Broke my guard,” he growled. , .-TU4 lovelorn maiden could do noth ing but rock to and fro and moan.— [Detroit Tribune. AN EVEN CHANCE. Hausfrau (to dunning tradesman) —If to-morrow is bad weather I shall be able to pay you. But if it is good weather you need not call, as we ’shall need the money to go to a pic nic.—[Fliegende Blaetter. Frosorving Railroad Tiaa. In this part of the country where wood is comparatively inexpensive, the railroad companies do not find it •necessary to treat all their cross-ties by some process which will lengthen their psrlpd of serviceability, but out in the setpi-arid and arid regions of the .west, where cross-ties are costly, t'he case is different. Nearly 8,700,- 000 cross-ties in use on the lines of the Atchison, Union Pacific and Rock Island systems have been treated at a cost of seventeen cents to twenty cents each by a process which con sists in first injecting chloride of zinc with glue into tlie timber, and then forcing a solution of tannin into it. The tannin fixes the chloride so that it ^ not washed away by the rains or removed more slowly by the stand ing water in damp localities. The distinguished past President of the American Society of Civil Engineers, Octave Chauute, states that on the Atchison system tie renewals have been largely reduced by this treat ment. lu 1890 it abandoned the pro cess and injected chloride of zinc only, but in 1898 the zinc-tannin treatment was-raBU&ed and is now operated. * Tlie Unioft Pacific stopped operating” its works In 1887 for financial reasons, and they have not been opened since then. On tlie Rock Island tines pnictltally nq ties treated by tlie process were • renewed until 1892, after six years of service, and at the commencement of the current year over,ninety per. cent, were still in service.—£N’t4w .York News. • . “ * CHILDREN’S COLUMN. TO STOBY-LAND. See, the path is green nudslialy, We will follow where it leads, Under elms that aroli sedately, Through a gateway old and stately. Overgrown with moss and weeds. Once within the m agio portal, Hark! the air is full of song, Jubilant with blackbird's singing; Jocund with the voices ringing Of a merry, motley tbroig. From the wood they troop to meet us, Ail the folk of Story-land— Princesses and dwarfs and dragons, Knights who quail in brimming fla£oi» Toasts to ladies fair and grand. Forms familiar gather round us, Babies quaint and beauties raro Cinderella, meek, pathetic, Jack with muscles energetic, Curly locks and golden hair. Through the leafy wood enchanted, As we stray in wonder sweet, Gay, grotesque or friendly faces, Peopling ad the pleasant spaces. Still our happy coming greel. Till, reluctant, homeward turning Down tho path we walk once more, Through the gateway old and stately, To the world we left so lately, From the land of Story-lore! Maboauet Johnson. “foolscaps. ” Everybody knows what “foolscap” paper is, but everybody does uot know how it came to bear that name. In order to inereaso his revenues, Charles I. granted certain privileges, amounting to monopolies, and among these was the manufacture of paper, the exclusive right of which uas sold to certain parties, who grew rich, and enriched the government at tho ex pense of those who were obliged to use paper. At that time all .English paper bore tho royal anus in water-marks. The parliament under Cromell mado sport of this law in every possible manner, and among other indignities to the memory of Charles it was or dered that the royal arms be removed from tho paper, and the fool's cap ni.il bells should be used as a substitute- When the Rump parliament was pri*- rogued these were also removed; bujl paper of the size of the parliamentar* journals, which is usually about sev enteen by fourteen inches, still bears the name of “foolscap.”—Atlanta Con stitution. AN INFANT PHENOMENON. A real infant phenomenon keeps all •medical men and pedagogues of tho good old town of Brunswick, Ger many, in a state of wonder and de light. Tho little son of a local butch er, a baby just two years old, cau read with perfect ease anything writ ten or printed in German or Latin characters. A few weeks ago three Brunswick doctors had tho infant in troduced to them, at the house of ono of the learned gentlemen. Tho first thing the little one did when brought into the consulting room was to stand on his toes at the table, reading out from the books that were lying about. All that could be ascertained,’ as to tho why and wherefore of this uncanny accomplishment, is that, when the baby was eighteen months old, and his grandmother took him out, he al ways immediately caught sight of the inscriptions over shops, and asked about them as only a small child cau ask, till he had fathomed the mean ing of the letters. It was the same at. home; kooks and newspapers had greater fascinations than lollipops and toys, and whatever the parents playfully told-him he remembered, with the result that at the age of two years he reads with perfect ease. Apart from his accomplishment iu reading, the boy’s development is quite normal.—Westminster Gazette. Farming In Japan. Tho fertilizer most used in Japan is rice straw, cut into small pieces, as with a hay cutter. But cultivators depend mostly upon irrigation from the rivers, and most careful cultiva tion ; not a weed nor a waste piece of land will be seen in a long railroad journey. Tho farmer utilizes every bit of land he possesses. But farm tools are very crude. The bog-hoe is the chief tool used ; occa sionally a black bull may be seen hitched to what is called a plough, but the implement is so small it looks like a toy. With the hoc, the blade of which is four inches wide, tho soil is turned over, left a few days in the sun, then levelled qnd seed put in. Every crop but rice is planted in rows, straight as an arrow. Men ahd wo men work in the fields, and rice thresh ing is performed by drawing the rice straw across the teeth of a saw-like blade, by which tho seeds are dis lodged.—New York World. i • , 4 , . Heart Whole. The Summer Girl from day to day Acts cheerily ’her part; Though she is % very oft engaged , jfcjje never loses heart.—Puck,