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M \ ) ' <wk??ng of the joy uider. S: fAn Tennyson Might Have Sung It.) I ?\Voop around a ijudden turn, 1 run 1< o a careless sally, 'And, feeling not the least concern, Go zipping through an alley. Past thirty cops I hurry down, I hump o'er ruts and ridges; J scatter havoc through th<? town And flash across the bridges. I see Uk? red light's warning glow, j But do i heed it? Never! i For men may come and men may go, W But I tear on forever. | I rattle <fver stony ways, I -J crash through traffic's jumble. ./ iafctffnd end their troubles and their days Who hesitate or stumble. With many n curve T, somehow, get Around the drays and busses, 'And do not stop to feel regret Because some teamster cusses. T hurry, hurry, crouching low; 1 try to jump the river; For men may come and men may go, But I tear on forever. I flash about ntvl in and out, A thousand dangers daring; I hear the mail policeman shout, But have no time for caring. And here and there I gladly break A speeding street car's fender; !_ ?v>vi uiguaa' iu liiKt? A chance, however slender. I lay old men and children low, I make the horses quiver; For men may come and men may go, But I zip on forever. I tear through lawns and grassy plots, I crash through leafy covers, II crush the sweet foraet-me nots And cripple happy lovers. I slip, I slide, ! skid. 1 glnn^c. I scorn the bumps anil hollows, I sound a toot and take a chance, Too gay to care what follows. t .The public wants me squelched, I know; But do I mind it? Never! For men may come and men may co. .out l crasii on torcver ?Chicago Record-llcrall. ?The Quest ol the River, ?:. ?*>H ?oo? n crao XGD?cz? Hy K. C. crs O T&s Vast walls of rock, with irregular peaks, dark against the radiance of 1 morning skies, and in the wall of | l rock a deep cleft, over the brink of ! J which in sheer silver dennntirio.i ' unending torrent of the falls. Among the giant boulders at its base swirlwjj ebon floods, mingling their tumulb with the mighty roar of the falls, so that never, at any hour of the year, in that place, was there silence, ' wherein a bird's song might be heard ir the voice of the wandering wind be I lUdible. This was the mountain home of the t iver. Here was the green gloom of cneneu rocks, the gray of dizzy I >d^es, whew; hero and there a slenujt Wve ttmn.l foot'iiold. Ilqre was the weather-worn wteep over whose jagged edges the white clouds sailed, seemingly so close that from the summit one might almost think to touch their luminous folds. Here rioted the rain and the sunshine, the winds and the winter storm; and cradled in the heart of these lay the torrent, the wild, Intractable child of the hills. And the torrent said: "Lo, here is mystery and solitude and grandeur, and in the deep solitude, a voice that calls to me; and in my heart there is a deep unrest, a desire born of my strength to lie off and away over the world." For the torrent in its eagerness was as the heart of youth fretting against the barriers, and was fain to be tree. And with wild and untamed turbulence tho waters rushed over the boulders, broke through the mat . of rock, and swept down from the rugged heights with echoing riot ai >1 rear, in brown tumbling volumes an ! silver veiling of foam, as a heart that exults In the gin:.- and greatness ot youth. Then the clam ous voice of the torrent became as i voice* forgotten. The gray rocks wi left behind, and among the mossy >ulders were layers of golden sand. Tho wild roar of the water became ; the glad, low sound of laughter, n:?d over th<> ripples and sparkling <'ddles fell the sofc shadow of frlngi ; grasses. And still tho eag> waters llowed onward with laughti' uul antic i>?hi the mountain solitiu!' were losi in (lie shadows which were as mists on past years. Beyom. lay the unexplored region of valley ' uuls. In the vivid green of the grass shy flowers opened, and down upon the wido levels the blue .-ky thed its serenity. By night the golden stars looked down, and paw themselves reflected In tho clear waters, and a siletico fell, wherein the lilt of the river grew wistful and soft and appealing, as tho joy note hat voices the heart of love and of longing. And the river said: "I.< here is tho valley of peace, where trife and tumult cannot enter. Hen in the warm sunshine, under th veiling grasses would I abide awhile, save that from the starlight depths of the darkness and over tho meadows there steals to my heart the echo o! i voice which calls me onward, and in my heart thero Is not rest." For the fiver was as u soul n tho journey of life, knowing not t' ? beginning nor the end thereof, > folwith Imperfect obedlen. t the i volco of tho Infinite. - on the silence arose the f= ind \ \ rof a song, lilting and joyous a. the \ echo of tho river's mountain s< ng, and tho river rushed onward with outstretched arms; and, with tho v' ul laughter and hurry of his na: 'G wilds, there bounds Into his embr; e a swift, Impetuous stroam. And the tldja ot the growing river i-.nd th: rippling. stream were mingled Into one, as tho hearts of two who have sought each other are brought together and made one in love. And there was a deeper note In the voice or the river and an added joy In his song, soft and sweet as the cadence that voices the joy of love, tho only true Joy of the world. Then tho great forests threw their shadows nvnr fhr. _ ~ v^iv luuiuiuiiiiH WilLWlb, and over the seedling grasses swung the gQssanier blue of halrbells. Forget-m^-nots flung their lovely clusters at the river's feet, and in the green ; arcades of the overhanging branches were the tender songs of the thrushes and the soul-song of the nightingale, , like unto which there is no song. And the river whispered: "Nov.' in this lovely land shall my heart find rest, for unto my life is another joined and we twain are one; therein lies completeness; now is the time of joy and the fulfilment of my daelre!" And the stream answered: "Lo, for this also came I down from the mountain; surely for thee was my longing, and now in our union shall gladness be perfected." And a whisper stole through the tremulous branches, and a low note of unrest stirred in the fitful voice of the wind. Through the loveliness and upon the inner silence stol the ocho of a far-away voice, unto the appeal of which the cry of tho waters awakened responsive, and with one accord came their answer: "Ah, not under the soft shadow of tho leaves nor in the beauty of tho flower-land, nor in the joy of our | union lies perfect fulfilment of desire, j for there echoes within our hearts the j unquieted voice which leads us on- : ward. L.o, go wo forward, yet undi- I Vidpfl- Oil tho lllibnn..'" * 1 " , uiiouuti 11 l|UC3l. For in the heart of the livers there dwelt the unsatisfied unrest which Is i as the divine unrest of the soul in its i wayfaring, finding In love the rcilec- i tion of joy, yet not the fulfilment ; thereof. Beyond the chequered shadow of I the forest flowed the waters, beyond the rainy marshlands, where tho rushes invaded their silver quietness, i whispering the unutterable secrets of j the winds. And tho tides of the two j rivers were as one and knew no de- j vlation, so that to those who passed they seemed but the deeply flowing 1 | current of one broad and mighty i stream. Their harmony was as one voice; for upon the heart of tho restless river bad fallen a great calm, like I the peace that falls as a benediction sjpon the wayfaring soul on the borderland of the City of Rest. The fever and hurry and rush of the long journey lay behind, and beyond lay j the wide, sandy levels broadening ! unto the mighty sna. And the river said: "Solemn and I sweet and near within my heart I i | hear the voice which has called me I from the cradle of the mountains, | from the grandeur of the hills and the | solitudo of the wilds, from the mys| tery of the moorlands and the frail { and lovely wonder of the meadows. | Lo, I come, with the song of the wind and the dream of the forest, nn>l ? ...... ui i.ij iuvb. l<o, i aome, yielding unto thee my all, O Sea!" And the glory of the sunrise lay upon the river, ineffable as the light which shines on the soul when the shadows of the earthly are being lifted; for the wayfaring of the river was as a day of toil gone by, and beyond was the infinite rest.?Tho Christian Register. "01)10" FORCE 50 YEARS AGO. Acted Without Contact, Gut Table Tipped Permanently in Seemingly Impossible Position. | "Ghost's" hand. Instead of resting I lightly on the desk, began to jerk | I pasmodicallv awav from it nmi incif ! again, and tho stand to remain pcrInanently tipped toward him, not risi:g and falling as lii.s hands rose and li, but tipping permanently. Tho l t < o acted without contact. Tho jerkings increased in frequency. violence and length to a rapid tattoo of his fingers on the stand, tho dist, i>s away from it between the beat increasing to nearly or quite a foot, and the stand steadily tipping more md more toward him, until probal ' tho top had passed tho centre of , :ivity, and yot it did not fall toward 1 im or back toward its natural pos ion, but was virtually held in what ; previous knowledge would have deel < d an impossible position, says Ilenr; Holt, in Putnam's Magazine, Then ho raid: "Trv to mill ft I down," and ihe strongest boy among us on one sid' tho base, and I, whc was perhaps 11 .< heaviest, on the other, tried to turn tho base back to tho floor. We coul! not. We spread our selves on the lloor, throwing out hands and tho v. ight of our bodies over the raised et! ? of the stand, but we could only eway it a little, while ; tin- forco from him drew it back; I do not remember exactly that w< ; could sway It at all. At last out 1 pressure simply brok. off tho base 01 drew out the nails. I don't remember whether "Ghost" ln-ld the uppei part suspended in the air or whethei a mysterious circuit v. h the earth was broken when wo ntr ih? base. Cut Off in Infant y. Mrs. Jones had been. j riding ol germ 1 adeii banknotes. "Goodness gracious!" -ho exclaimed. "George, do yo i really know how deadly dangeroui money i really is?" i "I should say I do," replied het i husband. "T.?ook at tho nuniti - ol s bills it has kluci *1 ?Ui?aa\K?"*Wuclc. '\ I . --T.-rrw i , Vm New York City.?Shirtwaists tha are made with moderate fulness ar much In vogue just now and are ver generally becoming. TI1I3 one Is lal in a succession of pleats, but all ok cept the outermost are stitched fo full length so that there Is only limited amount of fulness. The midd collar, the neck, Is a novelty, and th V'1w slightly open nock makes a feature o the season. The blouse is adapted t< both the odd waist and the entiri gown and to almost all the simple seasonable materials, linen, madras pongee, cotton poplin and also th< iiuinier lawns and batistes, for waist: of this kind are made from all White linen makes his one, however and is trimmed with bands of rosi color, while the tie is made to match If three-quarter sleeves are not like< long ones in regulation sliirtwals stylo can be substituted. Tho waist consists of fronts am back. The collar is joined to tin neck edge and the closing is made a the centre front, where there is i wide box pleat. The elbow sleeve are gathered into bands and finishei with rolled over cuffs, but 1^.... ones are finished with over-laps am straight cuffs in shirtwaist style. The quantity of material requiret for the medium size is four and one half yards twenty-one or twenty-four three yards thirty-two or two aiu one-half yards forty-four inches wide with three-eighth yard tweuty-foui inches wide for the bands. Velvets in Vogue. Paris costumers show many ready to-wear costumes constructed < > chiffons, marquisettes and ohiffoi cloths built over satin foundations Another Paris fashion idea favors tin use of velvets for next fall and win ter. Velvets were much in evldenci in Paris and other fashion centres las season. Velveteens will doubtles: participate in the increased demand and as raw cotton is now about sixt; per cent, higher than it was at thi time last year, prices of velveteen are steadily advancing. Girl's Coat. In Full or Three-Quarter Length, With Notched or Shawl Collar, Wtth or Without Pockets. Embroidered Russian Jllousc. The Russian blouse suit opens many possibilities for the needleworker to make her own embroidery, A straight embroidered band along the left-front side of tl.o jacket is suggested. it may bo braided 01 plainly embroidered. A circular piece, with scant rufllo at tho edgo, can be used for a collar. Cuffs may be trimmed or left plain. \ small design on the front panel it- the skirt la stylish. mm t I Cut On tJie Hins. ? Old Mas hand trimming has been y revived and !b seen on gingham, on silk and on cloth. Some of the very latest black-and-white striped cloths l" in Paris are simply trimmed witb. 11 the same material cut 011 tho bias and y stitched in the good, old-fashioned e way. Princessc lintliing Suit. The princesse bathing suit is an exceedingly smart one and greatly in vogue this season. Illustrated is a model made with close fitting body portion and i>Joated skirt, so that it gives princesse lines and comparative snugness at the same time that it is loose and free at the lower portion. There are dart-fitted knickorbockors ton fhof ""u ??.??.? >-.1111 IJU1K over the liips, yet are abundnutly wide at the knees. Dotted silk with bands of plain is the material illustrated, but mohair is always a standard material for bathing suits, pongee is mach liked and all materials that are correct for such costumes can be utilized for this one with trimmings of contrasting material or banding as liked. If preferred the neck can bo made round instead of V-shaped. The suit is made with the body portion, the skirt and bloomers. The bodj portion consists of front, back and side-front and side-back portions. It is joined _to the skirt or flmmro which is straight and pleated, and the closi 11 is made at the left of the ; s \ -?r, ? : v*.'l /I? * ?-Xy i ml l mm \ p ^ymiii ? front. Tho sleeves are gathered into minus. 1 tie bloomers are made with front and back portions and are closed at the sides. The quantity of material required f for the medium size is nine yards i twenty-four, eight and one-fourth . yards twenty-seven, four and three3 fourth yards forty-four or fifty-two - inches wide, one and one-half yards o twenty-seven for hands. s White" Linen Suit4*. , Tailored suits of white linen show y collars and cuffs of foulard or of a s plain satin in contrasting tones? s rose, old blue, tan, lavender and the like. * rJ jjjj" Girl's Costume. , With Gathered Sleeves in Full or Three-Quarter Length or plain Loose Sleeves. \ Printed Stoekings. \ Fashions for printed things ex tend even to u.o pretty s^kingH They nre undcninblym^Mflnud sc dainty as Ing - nro^&MB^HHBH^HH^^Aound .1 oil \ \ nicNiaiiHtMirt o <? 1 A HOME AMU BOARD (IN A g ? SEVE\'-Dl)LLAR-A-WEEK SALARY. S O 9 tti?ct9OQC838ooaea3tt09?e?e??o lk-rti'.a Poole Weyl, in The World To-Day, gives a graphic picture of the tragic experiences of girls in the big cities-:. After detailing some of til ASP. ?nv?? In winter, as In summer, the sevendollar-a-week girl has her amusements. This is the season of free lectures and musicales, of settlement j clubs and social clubs. There are dancing classes at twenty-five conls a | lesson, and classes where no tuition is charged. In winter all New York waltzes. Much of this dancing Is evil. Too often liquor Is sold in tha adjoining rooms, atjd as the evening wears on the tone iji the ballroom decidedly lowers. At these dances some of the worst people in the city . congregate, and the seven-do Uar-aweek girl is unwittingly led to pay an I awful price for her fun. What are w??to do about it? "It is a difficult problem," answered the head of one of our lnrao settlements, "the solution of which is still experimental. We are grop- ; ing in the dark, and the light is far in the distance." The present work, however, is town lfl ?lw> I.. ' ..... 11 *-? 11 \? in v/mcaKu, vxpenr.ietCs are being made with co-operativo homes. Theso homes are run by a committee elected by the girls themselves. They aim to be not only self-supporting, but to pay a small per cent, upon the capital invested. That they are successful is proved by i a constant waiting-list of applicants. | The Trowmart Inn, in New York City, with accommodations for 'J IS women, has also a waiting-list. This hotel is open to any self-supporting woman under thirty-five years of age. A reference is required for permanent, boarders, but any woman applying for a night is admitted. Otherwise, it is run as any hotel, and pays from I three and a half to four per cent, on I its investment. These experiments are only a drop in mo nucKet. Moro self-governing rlubs aro needed, and more hotels for women must he built. But deeper than this?and this is the light toward which wo are groping?the sev- ! en-doliar-a-week girl must receive a living wage, a wage that makes charity unnecessary, and puts a healthy, wholesome, normal life, a life that is physically, mentally and spiritually I pure, within the reach of all. A Flying Start. Here Is an old anecdote, dressed up in new clothes and located in the liberal atmosphere of Cincinnati. Maybe you don't want to read it again. If you don't; don't! Anccdote: "A guest In a Cincinnati hotel was sliot and killed. The negro porter who heard the shooting was a witness at the trial. 'How many shots did you hear?' asked the lawyer. 'Two shots, sah,' he replied. 'How far apart were they?' ' 'Iiout like dis way, ' explained the negro, clapping his hand with an interval of about a second between them. 'Where were you when the first shot was fired?' 'Shinin' a gemman's shoe in do basement of do hotel.' 'Where were you when the second shot was fired?' i 'Ah was a passin' de Rig Fo' depot.' " ?Birmingham Age-Herald. I Too Soft a Heart. The prison visitor looked at tho occupant ol cell 4!) through eyes that were dim with tears, and passed a j few more fragrant blossoms between the iron bars. "Von poor unfortunate!" she exclaimed. "So you were brought to this through sympathy for another, i j Tell me all about it. Perhaps somc' tiling can bo done to set you free." "Well, mum, 'twas this way," ox plain' (1 tho convict. "When me an' my mate, 'cracked the crib wo found the bank watchman asleep an' wo tied an' gasped him. It was him as arterwanls Identified m " "Yea, and tho ttynVjtathy for at*? j other?" asked the visitor. "It was for him. mum M" m:\vo wanted to stick a knife in him. If i hedn't boon a fool an' done it I wouldn't been here a talkin' tor you 1 now."?Boston Traveler. Parson's W ife Tohl Her. Tlie wife of a clergyman of a certain suburban parish was mending clothes tho other day when a vi.-itor was announced. The hostess went on with her sewing, for tho caller w is a II'AI 1 1. ' - - ?i-n nmiwn i)<triMiioner. Alter a while the visitor glanced toward the sewing table and exclaimed: "Why. the.se are soi.o buttons exactly like some my husband had on his last winter suit. They are aa odd kind of Iritton too. Where did you j get them?" The clergyman's Wife smiled roguishly. "In the collection basket." < she answered, quietly. "I found a i good many of the same kind. 1 was savin, them up for possible use " The caller changed the subj< < as hastily as she could and somehow or other sh<> did not stay very long.? ' Boston Traveler. j ] More C\)lT?*e I'setl??? frc in tho I riitoff '.^J increasing, whW* that oW*jr^1 r.lnicist .tatlonfl^In * 1 a a WpjL^M por capita, himJH III I Ss9 the A tea in the i pounds, and iu|H samo X f ?; (iootl Hoods and Their Value. At the conventions of the Carriage Builders' National Association held i:i New York Henry F. Keachline, of Philadelphia, chairman of the committee on good roads, read the fol lowing Interesting paper: "Nothing is more essential to our local and national development than good roads. This subject has been one practically ignored by our Government until the various agitations covering a few recent years, and yet we style ourselves as one of the most f>rogressive governments. The Romans were undoubtedly the greatest road builders. Their roads were built with funds from the imperial exchequer. Napoleon was the rov 1 builder of France, and constantly advocated the construction of government highways. England's good roads are famous to-day, but wero not so less than a century ago; it might be said, not until Telford and Macadam agitated fo: roads, and by Parliamentary appropriation; tbcy predicted the beneficent result sure to follow the construction of better roads. i ne t Diieu states must ltc mndo to recognize the importance of this artery of its commerce, its legislators must ho made to understand that good roads are not only of benefit to the farmers, who, in fact, are less dependent. than the millions of people who live in our cities and towns. The most casual investigation will show that the consumer, after all, pays the freight. "We are only too prone to believe t but the railroads carry the nrost freight and may have decreased the exigency of good roads; the figures at. hand, however, do not bear out this assumption. Last year it cost $1.$')0,OOO.OOn to transport the products of the country over the dirt roads to nearer shipping points, while fhn gross receipts of all t he railroads u-5i? considerably less, and when the astonishing figures are considered, the savins that could he effected through good roads i? both startling nnd <-oormous. Why, then, is it not nvado fully apparent to the State and National Government? "The following table will show the difference in cost of transportation by horse power, electric power, steam cars and steamships: Per Ton. Horse power, 5 miles $1.25 Electric power, 25 miles 1.25 Steam cars, 250 mile*? 1.25 Steamship on lakes, 1000 miles. 1.25 "Thus it is found that it costs twenty-five cents to transport evwy ton of freight over our poor romls, while in Europeon States it is less than ten cents a mile. Good roods would, therefore, effect i\ saving of over $ 1 .OOO.OOO.OftO yearly. "It. seems almost absurd to think so little attention has been given gtnxl roads, which are so essential to the \vplfru-r> fit' .-ill 1-1-ico^c /-.f v/*. i.vujng, cially when reminded that the Government spends annually at)out $100,000,000 for tho navy, and that thus far over $-GOO,000,000 have been spent for river and harbor improvement, and it is firmly believed tJuit no one of those three improvements is more important than the other. It lias been comparatively easy to get an appropriation lor a Federal s<mature of some kind for your locality, but in more than fifty years not o*ie drill.'! r for fc\r\A '' flood 1 loads. Oliio has been experimenting with preparations for preventiv.g dust .and for binding the surface of macadam roads. It has built an i \|k t imental road, giving each of the mate-rial* tested a sort ion of ? i" .. > li. lei .'ill. with a rondwaj a f< v !o, : sections l.ein et?nn< -t 1 ;.ir1 r:i?i ; a conti: 'oti roa :. : 1! ; ivi:ig very nearly tbe am anion: t of txavcl. 11 v . (1 io 1IUa pal im< !>( nh. i t' tc li.i 11;? c<>:i:parativc val : t ' ' n;:i l-l-i: dilimaterials. ** in the good o\l diiys of horses t!;e broken qtoiie roatl .eenud to ; ive vati ia (ion. With tin advent oi il ? automobile the . iiii.iiool the mat tdam iiiurl bf/iv. -I n/\i .-.v ??; . . . - . .... , i.wi ru . ,h m,ii in. as inrmorly. Tin- lino binding material loosened, loose stones cropped iii>, ruts wore niadd. The auction 01 tho soft tiro lifto<I off tlio hiudint; stirfaeo of tho lino particles of slono ;ni<1 scattered thoni. This removed tho cementing powor, and left tho larger stones to bo scattered. In tho Paris coni;res? of tho rondbuiidorl of the world it was ajrrood |lVIKV 1' 1 in1:11!. .<>)u! pom If ,t resist tho drst ruption raui^ " utomobile travel, and thnt if I IfespQ^ tliis- class of roa'l whs lo sonic method of I?i:?<11 n^c ilieso, / Sfjther tlia:r tho fomenting l?o\ve.1 stone dust ..us* need. Tl,e .v'^^^Bwas expivs-t 1 that this he effected hy t he use r>t' <?v^^H|^Balt incorporated with i ^ on t!l? surface. table. a vi'at Ion ^^in our broad ^^^Htfore will