The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, June 08, 1887, Image 6
TO-MORROW'S FORTUNES.
My dreams, like 3hips that went to sea,
And got becalmed in sunnier climes,
No more returned, are lost to me,
Faint echoes of those hopeful times;
And I have learned, with doubt oppressed?
There are no birds in next year's nest.
The seed is sowed in balmy spring,
The summer's sun to vivity,
"With his warm kisses ripening
To golden harvests by and by,
Got caught by drought, like all the rest?
There are no bird's in next year's nest
The stock I bought at eighty-nine
Broke down at once to twenty-eight;
8omo squatters jumped my silver mine,
My own convention smashed my slate;
No more in futures Til invest?
There are no birds in next year's nest.
?Burdette, in Brooklyn Eagle.
EMELINE'S SCHOOL.
She was the dullest scholar who attended
the school. The teacher said so.
mo parucumr lusiuuuuu nuitu auc
attended, was a little brick-red schoolhouse
in the Territory of Dakota. Perhaps
there is more than one such educational
edifice in the Territory of Dakota,
but I can't be more definite because that
is about all I know concerning- it myself.
Her name was Emeline, Fancher, usually
called Em Fancher, or sometimes
Emma Fancher, or perhaps more frequently
"old Fancher's gal'' and it was
agreed by all that she never would know
anything?not about her books?and the
teacher was quite positive that that was
all there was to learn in this world.
Of course she learned other things
readily enough and she could learn her
, lessons as well if she wanted to, but she
didn't want to?only on very rare occasions.
It was said that she was famous
to help her mother at home, and that she
was somewhat better than her brothers in
helping her father out-doors and that
when it came to going after the cows on
horseback or setting a trap wmcn woiuq
invariably catch a muskrat. or other
things of this nature, that she was enthusiastic
and successful, but it didn't
raise her much in the eyes of the community.
She was always shockingly familiar
with the teacher, a prim maiden lady
who had been a district school teacher
all her life and considered perfecting the
multiplication table the highest achievement
of man.
During the noon hour this wayward
scholar would sometimes take her seat on
top of a desk near the teacher's corner
and sit and swing her feet and ply her
prim instructor with questions concerning
the manners and customs and scenery j
and natural products of different parts j
of the country, and volunteer a bewil- j
dering amount of information concerning ;
the habits of the muskrat and the jackrabbit
and the prospect for a good crop, j
and her latest adventure while bringing j
home the cows on her favorite pony. She
would thus continue to shock Miss;
Bacon,the pnm instructor, tillat last that i
lady would be obliged to send her away j
io self-defense.
So Emeline went along for a couple of :
years in the little brick-red schoolhouse. j
Then she graduated. The exercises were j
?ot elaborate?in fact they could not
have well been more simple. She piled j
up her books and taking them under her j
arm went home.
To the astonished Hiss Bacon, who .
demanded an explanation of her sudden j
departure, she said:
"I've learned enough and I am going j
to quit."
"What are you going to do at home ?" j
".Help ma and pa, I reckon."
"But don't you know you are only |
fifteen years of age and need to go to
school more ?"
"Oh, I s'pose so?that's what you're
always telling me. But I gues-; I'll never j
learn anything at school anyhow, so I'm
going to quit. Pa and mi don't care j
and von'll never see me at school anv- i
J ~ ? I
more, so good-by." She went out the i
door, but turued and gave Miss Bacon a j
parting shock by adding: "Come down i
to our house Saturday and we'll go a- 1
fishing in Dry Lake?f know where there
are some splendid young frogs for bait."
But the worthy Miss Bacon could not
reply?the idea of her adjusting a frog
on a hook! So she did not go Saturday
and did not see her late pupil. In fact
two years passed and she only saw her :
occasionally and then when going to or j
from school she encountered her dashing >
wildly along on her pony.
One day when perhaps a little more
than the time mentioned had elapsed, j
Emma entered the school-house after j
6chool had closed and as Miss Bacon was j
preparing to take her departure. She j
was, in her own words, a "full-fledged
young lady now,''and was certainly quite
prepossessing in appearance, Miss Bacon i
thought, compared with when she ligradu-.
ated." She was not large, though per-j
haps a little taller than the average [
young lady, and was as strong and ac- j
tive as ever. She was dressed with more ;
taste than formerly and evidently did ;
not indulge in her wild and wayward .
habits to so great a degree, though she
naa tne oia gleam in ner eye wmcn
teemed to tell that she could still ride j
the pony as far and fast, or set a trap by |
the lake with the same certainty of a ,
catch.
"Miss Bacon," she said, "I'm going to j
6urprise you."
''Well," repliod that lady, "go on? j
you have surprised me before."
"Yes, I know." she said, laughing, j
another way this time. You remember
how I graduated?"
"Yes, I believe that is what you
termed it."
"Well, there isn't any use of gradu- i
ating unless it does you some good, is
there?"
"Certainly not."
"That's what I thought, so I'm jroinsr i
to teach school."
"You a teacher!" exclaimed Miss
Bacon. "Why, Emeline, how can you
think of such a thing?"
"Don't you think I can do it?"
"Why, it doesn't really seem as if yon j
w-ould be successful as a teacher. Where j
are you going to teach?"
"Oh, over in the other county. Ma ,
reckoned I couldn't get a certificate even l
if I had studied some since I left here, but
the superintendent was a nice young man.
and I smiled at him and acted real sweet,
and he gave me one with a pretty good
Standing. I tvll you it made ma open her
eyes."
"You will teach the coming winter,
then?"
"Yes, got my school engaged. (Join;?
to have thirty scholars, some big boys,
too, and I'm going to make them stand
around. If any of my scholars ever run
away and act* like 1 used to I'll make
them wish they hadn't."
"Well, I hope you may have excellent
success, and if I can do anything to assist
you at any time, pray let me know."
"Oh, I'm going to get along all right
?that's what I'm going over there for,"
and she gave her head a decided toss and
walked away leaving Miss Bacon musing
what might not happen in this world
ol'constant surprises.
A few weeks after, Emma went to her ]
school. She found a boarding place I
near at hand and settled down with the |
determination to work hard and give the j
best satisfaction that she possibly could.
The first morning she was confronted by
the usual array. They were all sizes,
from those so small that the experienced
teacher always put them down as
having been sent by strategic mothers
to get them out of the way at
home, to the large boys she had spoken
of to Miss Bacon, some of whom were not
oulv larger than herself, but several
years older as well; and one of them, Mr. i
Edward Comstock, even grew particularly
attentive to his tcacher.
She was also met by the usual diversity j
of text-books, those necessary auxiliaaies
to a successful school, rangiug from the
late N. Webster's able spelling book to
the last work of some ambitious professor
who hopes to tcach orthography without
labor on the part of pupil or teacher
with his new ''system''?the former volume
having been the property of the
grandfather" of the little urchin who
brought it and the latter having come as
a sample from the publishers to the direc|
tor of the district who straightway armed
his youngest son and heir with it, determined
to give the work a trial before
J recommending it.
I Likewise there was the usual range of
| studies. There was the little tot who
I had yet to gain a speakiug acquaintance
j with the alphabet, up to the ambitious
I young man who aspired to algebra and
! an ornate style of penmanship, which
ran to birds and spiral-spring O's.
It must be confessed that in higher
! mathematics and pen-strokes which
i swelled out at unexpected places our
! teacher was not altogether at home.
, But she argued that these ambitious
| voting men knew nothiug about it either,
and therefore they could all, at least,
! start eveu.
j Among the particularly bad boys was
! little Johnny Dutcher. whom Emma
| found to be a particularly obstinate youth
that no amount of moral suasion, "keep;
in' in" at the noon hour or even corporal
j punishment could woo from the error of
his ways.
Several weeks of school passed and
Mr. Edward Comstock, the largest bev,
remained attentive to Emma?but not
more attentive than a pupil could judiciously
be to his teacher. One day when
the term was about half over she found it
necessary to order little Johnny Dutcher
to sit still in his scat and make the acquaintance
of his lesson during the noon
hour when the other children were engaged
in a grand snow-balling match
outside. Naturally this was the cause of
much grief to little Johnny?missing the
snow-balling match was purtly responsi
ble for the distress, but being forced to
come in contact with his lesson was the
direct cause. Judging from the way he
recited his lesson subsequently, it would
have been hard to conceive how such a
very slight introduction to it as he must
have had could have caused him so much
grief. But it did and Johnny went home
plotting all manner of schemes for revenge.
The next day little Johnny'3 father,
Mr Dutcher, senior, called at the school
and expressed his great displeasure at
the way his promising son had been used.
He was very awkward about it, and not
half so warlike as his manner at first indicated.
' Wnt T -nrnnf. +o fifl-o- " evnlainpfl A1V
Dutcher, "is that you 'bused my boy, an'
as one o' the officers of this school deestrick
I'm goin' to see if something can't
be done 'bout it."
"I never abused your boy," said Emma
firailv.
,;Buthe says ye did. He says ye kep'
him in at noon an' ree-cesses, an' it ain't
good for his health?no, ma'am, it's very
bad on his health?it's -wearin' on him
now?he can't stand it 'thout no
exercise."
' I only kept him in a few times, and
it was because he never had his lessons."
'"But he says he al'ays has his lessons,
and that you al'ays keeps him in. An'
then he tells me ye pounded him with a
club."
"Then he tells what isn't so, and you
know it!" replied Emma, withemjjhasis,
her anger rising.
" One o'my boys lie? They don't never
do no such thing?I brought 'em up
different from that I'll hev you unnerstand!
They tells the truth every time
and ye did pound poor little Johnny with
a club! Ye hain't no fit teacher fer a
school an' I'm goin' to see ef I can't get
ye turned out and some'un in as can learn
the scholars an not pound 'em!"
"Sha'n't I put him out?" asked
Edward Comstock, coming forward.
"Yes," she said in a tone which
showed that she would have done it
herself if she had been able. Then there
followed a very lively though short encounted
in which Mr. Dutcher got
picked up and dropped a couple of
times, stepped on once and finally thrown
out through the door into a large snowbank,
all of which feats were accomplished
by Edward Comstock, the
largest boy in school, who was also
accused of harboring a tender regard for
the teacher herself.
But though the valorous Dutcher had
been so artistically got rid of in the
morning it was much harder to dispose
of him in the afternoon when he called
with the remainder of the intelligent |
School Board and announced that owing
to the fact that she had pounded one of I
the children of a member of that Board I
with a club and deprived him of needful
exercise?clearly proved by the child
himself?that they, as a Board and in
pursuance of their duties, must dismiss
her as teacher and secure another who
would not jeopardize the health of the
children of the members of that Board.
Emma had expected such an outcome
of the difficulty and although she suppressed
her feelings with difficulty, she
managed to keep them sufficiently under
control to indicate to Edward Comstock
to keep his scat, this young gentleman
having indicated his entire willingness to
comc forward and throw the entire Board
out of Mie door if she was of the opiuion
that, it was for the best.
' I never hurt any of your children,"
she exclaimed, and put her foot down
very firmly, "but they all need it and I
don't want to try to teach them any
longer anyhow," and she walked away
and left them.
A few days later she returned home
and soon after met Miss Bacon.
"I'm sorry to hear of your misfortune,"
said thai lady.
"Oh, you needn't be?I was glad to get
I away," Emma replied.
"Is that so? I'm sorry you feel that
way about it. I'm afraid the time you
gave to it has all been lost."
"Well, I don't know?I got engaged to
the biggest boy in the school and he'll
uu cwuiiiy-oue 111 uic
goiug to be married then?I think that's
doing pretty -well."
And as Miss Bacon thought of it and
remembered all the terms which she had
taught without accomplishing anything
of that nature she admitted to herself
that perhaps Emma had done more than
sh>: had at first given her credit for.?
Dakota Bell.
I WOMAN'S WORLD.
PLEASANT LITERATURE FOR
FEMININE READERS.
1- -n' 1
VI UIIlit II 9 IT Ul A.
"Men work from morning till set of sun."
They do.
'"But woman's work is never done." Quite
true.
For when one task she's finished, something's
found
Awaiting a beginning, all year round.
"Wnether it be
To draw the tea
Or bake the bread,
Or make the bed,
| Or ply the broom,
Or aust the room,
Or floor to scrub,
Or knives to rub,
Or tabic to set,
Or meals to get,
Or shelves to scan,
Or fruit to can,
Or seeds to sow.
Or linens to bleach,
Or lessons teach,
Or butter churn,
Or jackets turn,
Or polish glass,
Or plates of brass.
Or clothes to mend.
Or children tend,
Or notes indite,
Or st-orios writes?
But I must stop, for really if I should
Name all the oars, take me n davit would.
So nianv are there that I do declare
More boats than I could count might have a
pair.
And yet enough ba left; and. men-folk, these
Same oars propel your barks o'er househ jld
seas
Into sunny havens where you rest at ease.
And, one word more, don't you forget it,
please.
?Vox ropuli.
Parisian Bread-Porters.
It is stated that bread is distributed in
Paris almost exclusively by women.
These come to the various bakehouses at
5:30 a. m., and spend about an hour in
brushing the long loaves with special
brushes. When her load is cleaned of
grit and dust the porteuse de pain goe3
her rounds to her customers. Customers
who live in flats have their loaves propped
ud acainst the door of their apartment.
Shopkeepers, restaurateurs and other I
customers who have the entrance to their |
premises on the street find their quanta |
of the staff ol life leaning against their J
front door when they take down their ;
shutters. The wages of these bread j
carriers vary from 50 to 60 cents per j
diem, their work being generally over at;
10 or 11 o'clock in the morning.? |
Milling World.
Early Risers.
"In reading tbe lives of well-known;
nteratary women, - says a writer in tnt* ;
Critic, "I am surprised to find them such j
early risers. Harriet Murtineau took her !
cup of coffee (which she made herself) i
and a four mile walk before 8 o'clock.
When she returned she ate her breakfast
and sat down to work. At 2 o'clock she i
dined, and then the day's work was done. :
She read, but never wrote, in the even-1
ing. Marie Edgeworth, too, wa3 up |
with the lark, and a housemaid two j
miles from where she lived used to waken i
her mistress in the morning with 'It's 8
o'clock, ma'am; Miss Edgeworth is goingby.'
Ouida is an earlier bird than
either of these two good ladies was. She
goes from her bed to her desk and
writes for three or four hours before she j
touches a mouthful of food. The midnight
oil gives no more inspiring light j
than is shed by the early morning sun." i
Lady Banjoists.
Says a St. Louis banjoist: "The ladies' j
of this city take very nicely to the banjo. !
I have been giving lessons in St. Louis j
since the 1st of January, and have the
names of dozens of belles and of not a
few matrons in fashionable circles on i
my Dooks. You would be surprised to j
see the list. Most of them arc pretty well
advanced, and I am thinking of giving a i
concert. Three months is plenty of time ,
for the study of the banjo if the pupil j
will practice an hour or two every day. j
By the end of the third month they get,
so that they can handje the instrument j
cleverly and pick almost any air out of i
the strings. There is a very friendly ri- j
valry among some of the ladies who de- i
sire to be known as superior banjoists, j
and astonish their friends with their j
skill in playing. But I wish you could ,
hear the wife of a leading lawyer, who is j
also a leading statesman, playing a 'Mex- 1
icanserenade'on her banjo."
Diamonds That Dance.
Many people have been puzzled to
understand why the diamonds -worn in
earrings by ladies nowadays maintain
such a ceaseless quivering motion. It
makes no difference that the head of the
wearer is in perfect repose, and that she
is even speechless, and, therefore, exerting
no muscle of face or feature. The
ceaseless twinkle of the diamond goes on,
enhancing greatly the flashing beauty of
the gem. The secret is in the setting of
the diamond, and the method is a patent
device. The stone is set in the usual
manner, except that the band, like the
handle of a diminutive basket, is attached
to the framework. On the underside of
this band is a cup-like cavity. On the
lower part of the hoop is a projecting pin
- -j---j ? a-K./.V.
poinieu Willi 1UUU1UUI, a iuclui n uivu
never wears out?somewhat like the
iridium with which gold pens are tipped.
Now, when the diamonds are put in
position on the hoop, the rhodium point
projects into the cup. The result is
what scientists would call a condition of
unstable equilibrium. Like the peablows
with a pipe by a schoolboy, the
diamond is given no rest, with the
difference that no effort is required to
keep it dancing. The metal point never
wears out.?Jewelry Newt,
The Queen of Rags.
Speaking of the poor, one of the
queerest figures in New York is that of a
woman who never wears anything but
rags, but such a wild and wonderful assortment
of them that she is really pictureanufi.
She is erencrallv known in the I
quarters she frequents as Crazy Kate,but
is sometimes called the Queen of Rags
for a change. Never had the most gorgeous
rainbow more colors than this
queer creature combines in her ragged
raiment. I tried to count them the last
time I saw her, but had to give it up.
From the mass of rags on her headr
to the tattered fringe of rags at heheels,
she was a perambulating kaleido
scope, so far as variations of color went.
She gathers the rags wherever they can
be found, often fishing tlmn out of the
gutters, and, as she never attempts to
clean them, the amount of dirt she
carries about in her daily wanderings
may be imagined. She not only clothes
herself with rags, but wears layer upon
layer of them, reefed and tucked and
strung around her till she is swathed like
a mummy. One of the worst tenements
in New York is a building called the
"Barracks," near the Battery. Crazy
Kate is one of its tenants. She has a
room in it, and the room contains hardly
anything but rags and rotten apples.
Next to her mania for rags is a passion for
/ iofknrinrf onfl (TOl n (T
fc> O I
through the form of peddling them at j
the downtown docks, and sometimes in 1
the shipping offices and others. Nobody ^
ever buys her apples, but a great many
who know her oddities give her nickels
and dimes, of which, it is said, she takes
such good care, notwithstanding the bee
in her bonnet, that she has quite a little
lniH Viv fnr a rainv dav. There was
a romantic story told about her some
years ago, to the effect that, being in
love with a sailor boy who went to sea
and never came back, she lost her mind
in consequence, but it is not accepted in
the ''Barracks," where the general opinion
is that Crazy Kate was born that way.
She is an odd creature certainly, but
quite harmless, the "Barracks" people
say.?Neio York Letter.
Fashion Xote3.
Very high straight collars are seen upon
the new dresses.
Maize is asserting its claims to be considered
a fashionable color.
Ladies' shoes must match in tint the
prevailing color of the gown.
The sailor styles are reported in many
garments for both boys and girls.
Sniail. simple mantles are made with
basque backs and mantilla fronts.
The newest guimps for low sumtnei
dresses are entirely of embroidery.
Beads, or to speak by the card, jets,
are fashionable foundations for bonnets.
In the way of studs i;he same de'
signs are shown for ladies as for gentlemen.
Velvet is used either plain or in soft,
irregular folds on the Drims of round
hats.
Hows of satin or moire riDDon decorate
the tips and handles of dressy parasols.
Surah Antoinette is a new fabric for
light mourning, woven with a heavy
twill.
A new idea in black luce dresses is that
of using Scotch plaid silk for the underskirt.
Satin-finished, gros grain, gauze and
taffeta ribbons are much used in mil- I
linery.
It is said that the tan shades of gloves
have lost their popularity, and that cool
grays are in favor.
Many of the new parasols are in odd
shapes, and have handles nearly long
enough for alpenstocks.
Skirt draperies tend to long, limp,"and
straight Burne-Jonesism; poulfes and
watteau are out of fashion.
Bonnet ribbons are coming in again.
They are not tied, but' caught low down
with a jeweled bar of gold.
The latest novelties in bonnets and
scarf pins for ladies' wear are combinations
of pearls and diamonds.
Basques are declared not suitable for
young women, and are consequently not
worn, even by grandmothers.
BonLets of every material are made in
the graceful princesse shape, with small
round crowns and coronet front.
The very latest thki;; in sleevelinks
simulates the coffee bean; each bean
must be of a differently colored gold.
Thin, transparent materials are made
up with full gathered corsages and
sleeves to match, whether for basques or
polonaises.
~One of the prettiest ideas in millinery
is the bonnet formed entirely of little
quillings of tulle in white or color. It is
exquisitely soft in effect.
Combinations of black and white silk
are fashionable thus summer, and many
entire dresses of checked or striped black
and white silk will be worn.
Children's hats have very large brims,
much wider in front and on -the sides,
than behind, and are trimmed with short
plumes and loops of ribbon.
Surahs with a brocaded stripe are seen
in many attractive colore, and are largely
used in forming the petticoats of some of
the dressy summer costumes.
Many very stylish costumes have very
narrow foundation skirt9, with a cushion
bustle and steel springs, over which very
ample draperies arc disposed.
Polonaises are seen in all materials,
from velvet to tulle. These are made in
long princesse fashion, "or with bouffant
drapiugs, a la Marie Antoinette.
Coat-sleeves are now made to fit the
arm easily in all materials, especially
woolens. Full bishop's sleeves and legof-mutton
sleeves are seen on many new
gowns.
It finishes a pretty summer costume if
the parasol is covered with the "same material
as the dress. This is not a very
expensive addition, and pays for the
trouble. '
Brussels tret is of such a substantial
wear that it is better liked for the gauze
bonnets than tulle, but point d'eiprit net
is rirettier than anv other fabric for this
* V
purpose.
Many rows of machine stitching are
used as a finish upon Summer camel'shair
and cashmere dresses, in a way formerly
used exclusively upon tailor gown*
of heavy cloth.
Hoods are usee? upon garments of every
style. A novelty in this line are the
dainty lace hoods in monk style, which
are arranged to lie flatly on the back of
elegant lace garments.
Some of the summer costumes of light
materials have the bodic? so cut as to
expose a small portion of the throat in
front, and with lapping surplice fronts.
Others have a square-cut front with
plaited chemisette of lace or crepe lisse.
Three breadths of silk ure used for the
back of skirts, drapery and lower skirt
being thus combined. These breadtlis
am nut half a vari lonerer than the foun
dation skirt, and there are an endless va- 1
riety of wa,ys of arranging the surplus
length at tho top.
A new trimming is composed of six 01
seven rows of extremely narrow ribbon,
known as baby ribbon, which are cauglit
together by loops of gilt thread arid
edged with loops of feather-edged ribbon,
one-fourth of an inch wide. White
satin ribbon with links of gilt thread is
an especially effective combination.
He Left Suddenly.
The son of a Northumberland lady loft
his Flobcrt gun lying on the floor. The
mother, with swinging broom, found it
just as a knock came at the door. In
the excitement of the moment she placed
the byooni in the corner and carried the
gun to "Mic door. She now blesses her
bonnie blue-evcd boy. It was a book
peddler that knocked, and when he saw
the gun hi- stood not on the order of going,
but went like greased lightning?
Skamokin, (Pcnn.) Dispatch.
A Few Queries.
Tell as what kept Ben. Perley Poore?
For we have asked in vain.
Did tight shoes make the Indian corn?
Why did Robert Treat Paine?
T
And in what hand does Carroll W right?
And where does Cabot Lodge?
What Lion did Alansou Beard?
"What foe did Abigail Dodge?
?Cape Ann Breeze.
Who scrubs and irons all Carl Schurzf
With whom does now George Francis Train?
Can any one approach Bill Nye?
What "copy" man would dare Mark Twain?
?Qharlest.oivn Enterprise. '
' budget of fun.
HUMOROUS SKETCHES FROM
VARIOUS SOURCES.
A Troublesome Law?An Appropriate
Selection?So He was?Working
Him Nicely?It Frightened
Her, Etc., Etc.
"Will you please pass the butter?"
said the landlady's daughter to the star
boarder.
4 "I'm sorry,replied the latter, who
was a railway clerk, "but the new law
prohibits all passes."?Tid-Bits.
Appropriate Selection.
"I see that old Dr. Fettlox ha3 been
appointed visiting physician to the Old
Soldier's Home. How ou earth did they
come to choose him?"
''Why, don't you know he's the most
renowned veteran-ary surgeon in the
country?"
"Indeed. You surprise me. I thought
he was a horse doctor."?Life.
So He AVas.
"Humph! but you are wearing your
father's hat 1" he said, as he looked over
the fence at the other boy.
"I know it!" was the reply.
"Hey! but you arc ashamed!"
"Ifot much I ain't! A feller who
can't make use of his father hadn't orter
have one!"?Detroit Free Press.
It Frightened Her.
Old Man (Reading report of baseball
game)?"They got onto (Jlarkson early in
the game and pounded him all over the
field. He succeeded in striking out two
men, after a hot grounder had gone right
through Burns, and a man been given a
life on first, and then the visitors wielded
the willow in earnest and knocked the
unfortunate out of the box."
Old Lady?"Don't read any more of
that fight, please, Josiah. It's too dreadful.
Dear me! Dear me! Where could
the constable have been? And they call
this a Christian country."
"Working Him Nicely.
' My dear,"' said a husband, who is fond
of putting posers. "Can you tell me why
young women who don't want to get
married are like angels' visits?"
TJtie iaay nnauv gave it up.
"Because they are few and far between.
Ha, ha, hal Not bad, eh?"
"Exceedingly clever. He, he, he?
By the way, John, can you let me have
that $30?"
"Certainly," said John.?New York
Sun.
High Art in New York.
Miss Bondclipper, accompanied by her
mother?they live on Fifth Avenue,
Y.?called at the studio of the great por-.
trait painter, Herr Von Pinsel, to inspect
Mrs. Bondclipper's portrait in oil. Both
ladies went into ecstacies over the work
of art.
"So, Miss Pondclipper, you dinks dot
likeness your mudder of vash goot?" remarked
the flattered artist.
"0, it is perfectly splendid!" replied
Miss Bondclipper, "it is just as natural
as life. I am surprised, Herr Van Pinsel,
that with your talent you did not become
a photographer."?Siftings.
Taking the Census.
"I have a scheme to make some money
when the next census is taken in Dakota,"
said one Sioux Falls man to another.
"What is it?"
"Why, I'll make a proposition to the
Legislature to take the census of the
towns at about five dollars per town and
make a whole barrel of money."
"Why, you couldn't make a cent at
that rate."
"Couldn't, hey? Well, I know I could
n 4- if T nnn falrn a nan a n c nf ft
^CI null i)t 1U ? u?u luavy wuu lvimuj v/i c?
town for fifty cents. You sec I'll give a
man half a dollar to bitch up a sick horse
and drive it out on the main street and
let it lie down, and then after about five
minutes I'll get up on the wagon and
count 'em."?Dakota Bell.
The "Pen" Mightier Than the Sword.
John B..Carson, the well-known railroad
magnate, was showing an English
friend the beauties of St. Louis a little
while ago.
"Who lives there?" asked the Englishman,
pointing to a magnificent marble
palace.
"Mr. Brown, the great pork-packer."
"And there?" said the Englishman,
pointing to another magnificent dwelling.
"Mr. Jones, the famous pork-packer."
"And there?" pointing to a neat little
frame house.
"Oh, that's General Sherman's house,"
said Mr. Carson.
"Ah"'remarked the Englishman, "another
evidence tliat the 'pen' is mightier
than the sword."?Xtio York Truth.
What Pompeii Died Of.
A Post-Express reporter chanced to be
standing beside the delivery desk of one
of the city libraries when a well dressed
lady of thirty approached the desk. The
librarian was cutting the leaves of a new
copy of the "Last Days of Pompeii," j
every now and then stopping to read a
passage from the famous novel. The
lady glanced around listless and said:
"I would like to find something new in
the way of nice reading. Nothing very
strong, you know, something light and
amusing. That is a nice looking book
you have there. "Whit is it?"
"It is the "Last Days of Pompeii.''
" 'Last Days of Pompeii,' Pompeii?
Pompeii?who was Pompeii? What did
he die of? I never could bear tragedy."
"I believe he died of an eruption.
Yes, this is rather tragical," replied the
librarian with the faintest smile imaginable.
The lady departed after securing
something 'light and amusing,'and without
the slightest" idea that she had furnished
any amusement.?liochcatcr PostExpress.
Had the Cowboy Along.
It was on a train coming East-from
Chicago. In the smoking car was a passenger
who had been out in the cattle
country for several years. He was a
small man, having soft white hands and
a very mild look, and one of the passengers
presently observed:
"So you've been in the country, eh ?"
Yes, sir."
" T'ifl tr> im nrmed. I suunose ?"
"Yes, all men out there go armed."
"Saw Mexicans, eh ?"
"Yes, sir, a few."
"And cowboys ?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ever have any trouble with a eowboy
?"
"Yes, sir, once."
"And do you mean to say that you
came out of it alive ?"
"I do, sir."
"And?and what becomc of the cow- ;
boy ?" i
"I have him here, sir," replied the
little man, and opening his valise he took i
out a cow-boy's sombrero with a bullet <
hole through the front, and then open- ]
ing a small parcel he brought out a well
preserved human ear.
"Well, by George !" gasped the inquisitive
passenger, and he began shrinking
up and wilting away until when th?
little man looked around for him he had
entirely disappeared.?Detroit Free Press.
Goflo tho Food of the Canary-Islander.
I Lave alluded to the excellent bodily
development and proportions of the
modern Canarians, and to the testimony
left by the old chroniclers to the still fine
characteristics of the ancient Guanches,
who are indeed described as marvels of
bodily strength, beauty and agility, because
these facts have an important bearing
on the question of their food. As
there can ber no such bodily growth,
strength and activity, ai is described as
belonging to these people, without superior
nourishment, it follows that the
food uwd by the Guanches, and adopted
and still almost exclusively used by the
present inhabitants, must be highly nutritious.
This article, so evidently important, is
tire gofioy named at the head of this paper.
There is nothiug mysterious about it,
for gofio is simpiy SoUr made from any
of tne cereals by parchiug or roasting
before grinding. The Guanches may
hare roasted their wheat, barley, etc., by
tVip rpadv mnthnrl of first, hpfitirxr stones.
on which or among which the grain was
afterward placed. As to that there are
no precise accounts, but well-shaped
grinding-stones are plentifully preserved.
At present gofio is prepared by roasting
the grain in a broad, shallow earthen
dish, over a charcoal-fire. It is kept
constantly stirred, to prevent burning.
One can hardly pass through a village
or hamlet without witnessing
some stage of the preparation
of gofio. The graiD is first carefully
picked over and all impurities removed.
The processes frequently take
place in front of or just within the always-open
door, giving the traveler ample
opportunity to see all steps of the
preparation. The grinding is done at the
wind-mills, which abound everywhere.
The roasted grain is ground to a very fine
flour, when it becomes gofio. Aftergrinding
it is ready for immediate use. When
it is to be eaten, milk, soup, or any suitable
fluid, may be mixed with it?anything,
in fact, to give it sufficient consistency
to be conveyed into the mouth.
Being already cooked, it requires no further
preparation before eating.
Ultimately maize was introduced into
the islands, and soon became an article of
general cultivation, particularly on the
Island of Grand Canary, where gofio from
it is the staple article of food lor the laboring
population, as that from wheat or
wheat mixed with maize is in Teneriffe,
wheat being-more largely grown in the
latter island.?Popular Science Monthly.
Maypole Customs.
A correspondent sends to London
Notes and Queries the following particulars
of the maypole customs at Haltwhistle,
in the county of Northumberland,
England. The maypole was usually
some seventy or eighty feet in height. It
was made of the two best trees that could
be found on some neighboring estate,
and which had been secretly chosen some
time before by the youth of the town.
The maypole was set up on May 14 (one
of the half-yearly fair days) in the market
place. The night before, the youth of
Haltwhistle, who had forcibly" requisitioned
the best horses they could find,
started for a secret destination
?for the maypole was invariably
a stolen one. Sometimes the
gamekeepers offered resistance; but if the
townsmen could get the trees into Haltwhistle,
then they were claimed by
the lords of the manor as waifs, and no
interference was allowed with them. The
* ?KKrvna Knllr on/1
puic Wits UtUftCU nibU iiuuviM, mmm
a windmill on the top, and was the centre
of rural festivities of the usual nature.
In the evening it was pulled down and
sold l^y auction, the proceeds being spent
in drink, which seems to account for the
great stress laid by my informants on the
fact that they always took the very best
trees they could find. The advent of the
rural policeman killed the maypole at
Haltwhistle. The May fair is still held,
but a strict interpretation of the law has
robbed it of its central ornament.
Where Snakes Abound.
In attempting to explore some of the
islands of Lake Chapala it seemed as if
the earth literally wore a "skirt of serpents,"
says a letter from Mexico t? the
Philadelphia Record. The ground
tlrom aarnvinrr and writh
?>taiLUUU VVAl/AA m If ?>v> ? ....
ing from every bush, hissing and squirming
on every fallen tree, and rippling the
water in all directions. It was a question
as to which were more numerous,
the birds above or snakes below. They
tell us that as soon as the spring birds reappear
there is a great gathering of
snakes below and hawks above. The
latter literally cover the trees, and whenever
hunger dictates they make a dash at
the tired little creatures who have settled
upon the islands after their annual return
from some unknown region. If a
bird escapes the hawks and seeks to refresh
himself with a drink, in the twinkling
of an eye he is swallowed by one of
the greedy serpents that lie in wait for
him at the water's edge.
A Doctor's Kill in Brazil.
Brazilian doctors are as eccentric in
their charges as the people are in their
desire to enjoy the pleasure of being let
alone. The physicians do not regulate
their charges by the time and labor they
have expended in the patient's service,
but by the estimated value of his life. As
t.hk value is determined bv the patient's
income, he. if he survives, is treated by
the doctor as wreckers treat a stranded
ship?the greater the value, the larger
the salvage.
A young English engineer, while engaged
in some work in.the vicinity of
liio, was attacked by yellow fever. A
doctor of good repute attended him, and
on his recovery demanded a fee of $900.
The young engineer remoustrated and
threatened to appeal to the courts. But
friends who had resorted to these tribunals
for redress advised him to have
nothing to do with the law. Ho acted
upon their counsel and paid the doctor's
bill.?Youth's Companion.
Burin all's Forests of Teak.
In obtaining the vast and rich domain
of Burmali the English Government has
come into possession, among other natural
treasures, of immense forests of teak,
which, never very plentiful i:i India, was
becoming commercially quite rare, and !
consequently of increased cost for industrial
purposes. Of all the woods grown
in the .East this has been pronounced as,
in some respects, the most valuable. This
superiority consists iu its being neither
too heavy nor too hard; it does not warp
nor split under exposure, no matter how
prolonged, to heat or dampness; it contains
an essential oil which possesses the
rare property of preventing the wood
from rotting under wet conditions, and.
?t the same time, acts as a preservative to
iron, and repels insects; it is, in addition,
a handsome wocd, of several varieties
of color and grain, and takes a good j
polish. j
.
tr ^
; WORDS OF WISDdflt...
"Wrinkles are the tombs of love.
To makes pleasures pleasant shorten
them.
The man who procrastinates struggles
with. ruin.
j Well-arranged time is a sign of a wellordered
mind.
' The smallest act of charity shall stand
jus in great stead.
A noble nature can alone attract the
noble, and alone knows how to retain
them.
Circumstances form the character; but,
like petrifying matters, they harden while
they form.
The great high road of human welfare v
lies along the old highway of steadfast .
well doing.
Every to-morrow has two handles.
We can take hold of it by the handle of
anxiety or the handle of faith.
In life it is difficult to say who do yon
the most mischief?enemies with the
worst intentions, or friends with the best.
The intellect of man sits^nthroned
visibly upon his forehead and^Lhis eye;
and the heurt is written upon his ceuux
itruauue. .. ^
We sleep, but the loom never a tops,
and the pattern which was weaving when
the sun went down is weaving when it
comes up to-morrow.
Count your resources; learn what yo i
are not fit for, and give up wishing for it.
Learn what you can do, and do it with
the energy of a man.
The essential difference between a
good and a bad education is this, that ?
the former draws the child on by making
it sweet to him; the latter drives
the child to learn, by making it sour to
him if he does not.
A tender-hearted and compassionate
disposition which inclines men to pity
and feel the misfortune of others, and
which is even for its own sake incapable
of involving any man in ruin and misery,
is of all tempers of mind the most amiable;
and, though it seldom receives much
honor, is worthy of the highest. , ;
An Animal Army.
Marvelous invaders are the lemmings.
They are near relatives of the shorttailed
field mouse, and are about five
inches long, with round heads, brown
fur, and bead-like eyes. Their home is in
the highlands, or fells, of the great :<
central mountain chain of Sweden and
Norway, where they build nests of grass
for their young. The lemmings are
spiteful little creatures when aroused,
sitting up on their hind legs and fighting r
with a will. Not only are they pugnacious,
hut extremely restless 'and
migratory as well; and every five, ten, or
twenty years they seem possessed by a
desire to see foreign land3.
Thereupon, they one and all leave their
settlements and start out in tens of
thousands, overrun the cultivated tracts
of land in both Norway and Sweden, and
'ruin the plants and vegetation. They 'J*
march only at night, pressing on slowly '
in one straight course, and allow nothing
to disturb them. Birds and various
animals follow and prey upon them; but,
notwithstanding this, they actually, increase
in numbers, gaining recruits as
they advance. Rivers are swum and hills
crossed, until, finally, the Atlantic or the
Gulf of Bothnia is reached.
But, still impelled by the same blind
instinct that has let it onward, the entire
vast concoursc plunges into the sea, ,
swimming onward, the little animalis
piling one upon another as they are
beaten back, until at titres their bodies '
have formed veritable sea-walls. Boat- ^ .
men returning to tlhe beach have found
their way obst?ucted by a struggling
horde that his just reached the sea. The
number of lemmings in these bands is -;v
beyond all computation, sometimes tne ~
march is kept up for three years before
the water is reached.?St. Nicholas.
Gems for Each Day of the Week.
All yellow gems and gold are appropriate
to be worn on Sunday, to draw
aown the propitious influences, or to avert
the antagonistic effects of the spirits on
this day through its ruler ana namegiver,
the sun. On Monday pearls and
white stones (but not diamonds) are to '<
be worn, because this is the day of the
moon, or of the second power in nature. v"
Tuesday, which is the day of Mars, claims
rubies, and all stones of a fiery histre.
Wednesday is the day for turquoises,
sapphires, and all precious stones which ')
seem to reflect the blue of the vault" of
of heaven, and that imply the lucent
azure of the supposed spiritual atmc^sphere,
wherein, or under which, the
Rosicrucian sylphs dwell?those elementary
children who, according to the
cabalistic theogonv, are always striving
for intercourse with the race of Adam, '-J
seeking a share of his particular privilege
of immortalitv, which has been |
denied to them. "Thursday demands ?
amethysts and deep-colored stones, a
sanguine tint, because Thursday is the-,
day of Thor?the runic impersonated
male divine sacrifice. Friday, which is
the day of Venus, has its appropriate '
emeralds, and reigns over all the varieties
of the imperial, and yet strangely the
sinister color, green. Saturday, which
is Saturn's day, the oldest of the gods, .
claims for its distinctive tailsman the
most splendid of all gems, or the queen
of precious stones, the lustre-darting dia^
mond, which is produced from the Dlack '
of Sab, Seb, or Saturn, the origin of all
* - i\aaa ? A*
V1S1DIC tnings, or mu "urreaii vt r
"Great Mother,"in one sense.?Literary
World.
Mr. Brewster's Little Mistake.
"Yes" said a man on the train, "he's a
?00(1 fellow, ex-Attorney General Brewster,
but there is a lot of blarney about
him. I know him well, you see?used to
visit at my house. Did I ever tell you >
that joke about him? No?. "Well, you
see, he had a great fashion of calling his
personal friends 'my dear fellow' and addressing
young ladies as 'my dear' in a '
pleasant way. We had a colored cook at
our house who wasn't handsome, but she
could beat all Dauphin county baking
waffles. One evening about dusk there
came a ring at my door bell. My library
was just at the head of the stairs. The
I cook answered the call. It was Brewster,
and in the semi-darkness he thougnt it
was one of the family. 'Good evening,
my dear; I hope you arc well,' and he
put out his hand for a shake. It was
too late to back out when he saw who it
j was. so lie kept right on. talked about
j the pleasant weather and the family just
- as though it was an everyday matter with
.him to shake hands with the servants,
while I liunjr over the balusters about
i ready to die." His urbanity and self-possession
were equal to the occasion, and
it tickled the girl nearly to death. Afterward
whenever she knew Brewster waa
to take dinner at our house we had waffles
and chicken that beat the world."?
Pittsburg I>i*])atch.
An old detective says: ''Inninety-nine
cases out of 100 in which men say they
have been drugged in whisky shops the
plain fact is that they have been drunfc."