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HE DBEAMS HZ COKES AGAIS. BY MAEY L. FEATHERSTONHAT7GH, "When the sweet sunshine softly fall! Athwart the golden grain, And gentle summer smiles once more, She dreams he comes again. The music of his laughter rings Around the homestead door, And through the swinging garden gate He comes just as of yore. And then a sound of sighing wind Breathes of the distant sea, Where on a ship through storm and mist Is driven ruthlessly. And there again the youthful face, But blanched by rear ana pain. As o'er the seething foam he looked And called his mother's name. Hie mother's name she heard it then, Though leagues between them lay Of trackless sands and an cry seas And -wreaths of mist and spray. She knew it when her darling called To her his last farewell; Upon her 6ad foreboding heart His tones distinctly fell. And though her gentle lips may smile, Her thoughts are far from home, Beside his lonely sea-girt grave Under the restless foam. And ever when the wind's low tone Sighs o'er the blooming shore. She listens to the plaintive sound And dreams he comes once more. IiAXE Geneva, Wis. A MiffiET. The Story of a Tragic Life Drama. ' . BY B. M. DAVY. CHAPTER V. FAIRLY BEWITCHED. An hour later, a cigarette my sole com panion, I was walking up ana aown a gTavel path of which I felt Bare a distant view could be obtained from the windows of No. 29. I grew restless and impatient. Daylight was fading before my ruse brought any desired result; but at last I saw a figure coming toward me rapidly. It was Edna Lynton. I flung away my cigarette, and raised my hat as she came up. She stood in front of me?her eyes cast 3own upon the path, her Angers interlaced?in a pretty, half-shy, deprecating ittitude I knew so well. There was nothing striking about the girl, as I have said; nothing to attract attention. But she had soft, winning ways, little gracefulaesses?if I may coin a term?that stole upon you unawares. "Mrs. Hargreave sends her compliments, and will yon favor her with your company between 8 and 9 o'clock, Mr. Dudley?" And this was spoken in the low, soft voice that had once been such swuet music to my ears; but now, the words jarred! "Edna?" I cried, impulsively. I was instantly conscious of my mistake. "I have not finished, Bhe continued, quietly, still without looking at ne. Miss Hargreave also Bends a message. If fou have anything for her, will you give **> W tUVi s My compliments to Miss HargreaTe, end I regard her request as a command. . . This is the answer to- the second message." I took, as I spoke, a sealed envelope from my pocket, but, before relinquishing it, added: "Miss Lynton, tell me?as a favor, I entreat you to tell ne?what has brought you here in this position?" "Best?far beet to tell him," she murmured, as though parleying with herself. Then she spoke out quite frankly: "Poverty, Mr. Dudley, brought me to it. ?y father's annuity died with him. I thought at first of being a governess, but there are already too many governesses . in the world, so I decided to be a confidential maid. I came North, hoping to be unrecognized." You have not ohanged your name?" "Why should I? There is no shame is what I do." "Our fortunes?or rather misfortunes? are strangely similar " % "Have you been unfortunate?" she asked, with swift, warm sympathy, allowing her eyes for the first time to encounter mine. * "The day after my father's death I awoke to the fact that I was a beggar," I said witn a little bitter laugn. ~i nave to work for my living, that is all. Yon see now how my case resembles yours " "Yon, a beggar?I, a servant!" She repeated the words twice, wonderingly and <freamily, and added, smiling sadly, "But rtrangers?strangers still." "Certainly not strangers," I hastened to ay. "On the contrary, I propose that we commence onr acquaintance from to-day on a new basis?that of friendship. Let ns be the best of friends." "Impossible, Mr. Dudley." . "It is not impossible." "Totally and ntterly impossible. Is it necessary that I should explain my reai eons*? Can you not see for yourself that any approach to friendship on your part will iuvolve me in inextricable difficulties? Even now I have been imprudent in talking with you so long. Your mes sages Bball De delivered, sir?at once." And with that she turned away. Standing where she left me, I watched her until she disappeared within the house. Poor little Edna! What a hard lot was hers, and yet how bravely she had set about battling; with the world! I admired the plucK?the spirit?of the girl. It was a hitherto undiscovered trait in her?an added charm to a character which once I had thought the most beautiful, most lovable on earth. Ah, Edna! Why could you not return the love I offered you in those happy days at Goldhurst! No woman will ever be to me what you were then. To no other can I pour out my heart's best love, for you had it all?all?and scorned it! I continued to pace moodily up and down the gravel path until the stars appeared, and a bitter east wind suggested return indoors. Then, aud not until then, when the keen air m?de me sniver. uiu x reconecc tee wenings engagement. My thoughts had carried rnetoo faraway. I went to my room, dressed myself*with considerable care?and, when the appointed time h id come, knocked at the door of No. 29. "Come in, please," said a voice. I entered. The walls were draped with rich tapestry. Oriental rugs covered the floor plants and flowers made the atmosphere heavy with their perfume. Mrs. Hargreave sat in a low easy chaii before a blading lire. She looked thin, fragile and somewh-t peevish as sha rone to receive me. "This is very good of you, mr. jl/uuioy, ouo o??u. "Not at all,*'I answered, warmly, tak. ing tbe comfortable chair she pointed to. "I consider it is," she siid, oracularly. I simply bowed again, waiting for her to proceed. "The nights fiTe very chilly; but what beautifal tires they keep up in the North," t she observed, presently. "I wonder if this struok you when you first came to Northshire as much as it struck me." Had she been making inquiries, then, concerning me? There was but one person who could tell her anything, and that was Dr. Gascoigne. I made a mental note of this. "I appreciate good fires, comforts, and luxuries of all kinds," I replied, evaeivelyv glancing around the luxuriously appointed room. "Are you musical?" she next asked, * probably noticing that my gaze dwelt foi a moment on the open piano and the heap of music on the floor. "I am passionately fond of music." "So is my daughter. That just expresses it?she is passionately fond ol music." "Miss Hargreave is well, I hope?" "She is better, thank jou?wonderfully oetter since we came here. But she is very excitable; one of those highly strung, impulsive natures that are a constant source of anxiety. Her father's death was a terrible shook to her. She has not recovered it. I sometimes fear she nevei will." "But the doctors?you have consulted T cnnn/icD?" T ftskfid fflplincr it in DVUiOj A OUj/^/vuv? ? " * ? - ?J . 0 a. ? cumbent on me to say something. ~mey are unanimous in telling me there is nothing but time for it. Time? and?diverting her mind. She has a 6plendid constitution; they alT say that.* "She has a magnificent physique " "Yes. You express admirably my meaning. She has a magnificent physique ?so had her mother. But oh, Mr. Dud* ley, a step-daughter is a terrible charge? an almost overwhelming responsibility.'' I could not, for the life of me, find a suitable answer, so sought refuge in si* lence, and sat staring at the fire, wondering what Miss Hargreave thought of the "message" I had sent her, and whether 01 not she would deign to 6how me the light of her beautiful presence. Mrs. Hargreave continued to talk, 01 rather to ply me with innumerable questions, every reply of mine eliciting from her a prosy dissertation, wherein she endeavored to expound her own views and theories. Occasionally, I feigned agree* ing with her, because this was easier than arguing on matters concerning which, at that moment, I was feeling the mo6t sum-AiriA indifference. f ? An hour passed, and I wondered how much longer this "durance vile" would last. So unutterably bored did I become that I was even contemplating flight, when a slight sound at the far end of the apartment attracted my attention. A portiere was drawn aside. Miss Har? greave stepped into the room. Heaveus! how beautiful she looked What a picture she presented standing there against the dark tapestried background. Her dress, of gola-colored brocade clinging closely to her, displayed the exquisite outline of her form. I felt that in her dark eyes, which were fixed oo me, lay an irresistible fascination?a power that impelled me to go forward to where she stood. "I am so glad to see you, Mr. Dudley Do you believe me?" she asked, while 1 retained her hand certainly longer than etiquette required. vrt-n? Vool" T whianArpri nrAB. ently, watching the rich color mantle is her cheeks; her looks, her manner, filling me with a strange, wonderful, pleasec surprise. Then, with a gentle pressure, she withdrew her hand. In the meantime Mrs. Hargreave had risen from her seat. She seemed scared and fiervous. "My dear," she began, "I thought * "Ah, you thought I had a headache and could not appear to-night, mother mine! But am I not the most contrary creature in creation? Wasn't I almost sure tc change my mind? My headache has flown, so has my somber mood. At this mo. ment I feel the gayest of the gay. Pooi mother! Won't even that assurance mak< vou smile! Ah, Mr. Dudley, you musi have spent a weary, weary hour! Mothei has been trying to imbue you with somt of her dreary ideas of life. Now yoc shall hear mine! Oh, what a merry world it is when all goes well! 'I'll dance and play?danoe and play;' " she warbled, with the freshness ana freedom of a bird. Then, flinging aside the fan of pea. cock's feathers with which she had bees toying, she aat down at the piano, and without prelude of any kind burst out in glorious' voice with the fine old song. Should he upbraid!" Never shall I heai it to my dying day without associating il with Georgie Hargreave and remembering that night. 1 felt irresistibly impelled to approach the singer, but Mrs. Hargreave motioned me back, laying a finger on her lips. Did she mean to enjoin silence? No fear, however, that I should break the spell bj speech. I stood simply entranced witi the bewitching Btrains, the complete nhnniinn. of the ameer?mv eaze riveted on the benutifnl, glowing face thai seemed all the while brimming over witl fnn.and mischief. Ab the last notes died away, however the harmony was broken by a sharp, sudden cry from Mrs. Hargreave, who hac sunk back on her'chair, and was pressing one hand to her side. "You are ill again, mother,"said Misi Hargreave, going and bending over her. "Never mind, dear. It will pass off,' gasped the lady, rising with apparent difficulty. "Excuse me, Mr. l>udley,' she continued, with white facc and trem> bling lips. "I am subject to these at tacks. They are nothing; Georgie wil tell you so. I will return presently." She then left the room through the doo> by which her daughter had entered it, ) raising the portiere for her as sne did rc My looks must have expressed concern' for when I turned round MiBs flargreavi said lightly, as, she threw herself on i couch: "Don't be alarmed, Mr. Dudley. I an quite used to mother's little attacks; the; are nothing serious, really. Only a catch ing of the breath. Do pray sit down ant allow me to thank you for getting me tha copy of the will. I was almost mad 01 first reading it, as you may suppose." "I hardly knew whether to let you hW-j it or not, Miss Hargreave, fearing yoj would be so terribly disappointed." "It was a disappointment?a cruel bio? ?at first. But now it does not seem t? concern me in the least that mother hat all the property that should by rights b? miue; for I feel I have gained somethini that outweighs it far in value." Hen she leaned forward very near to me, witl hands clasped on her knees. "What have you gained?" I asked. "You!" she answered; then 6at quitt still and silent with drooped eves. "A very poor substitute for a fortune, fear." I said, with all the calmness . could command. "No, no. indeed. It is more to me thai you c in think?than you ever dream of Do you forget tho dreadful life I lead-* so lonely, desolate?a prisoner, draggei about from place to place? But oh! thwonder, the marvel, that mother allow me to be acquainted with you! I can no understand her motive. She has one, yoi may depend; but I shall find it out." "Perhaps, after all, we both misjudge her. Supposing she is only anxious for your happiness, I suggested vaguely. "How little you know her! Ahl well, we will not waste time in talk of thil kind. I mean to be happy when I can, in my own way. Gome, my preux chevalier?my knight?you have done my behest, but as yet not asked for your reward!" "I will not ask, but take it," said I, and kissed trie red lips so temptingly near to mine. In a moment she had risen from the conch and was pacing up and down the room. Her features were strangely agitated; she seemed talking to herself. Yes, as her step-mother had said, she certainly was very excitable. "Surely I have not been nnfortunate enough to have offended you?" Baid I, followine her. "Offended me?" And, turning, she stood looking at me with wild, dilated eyes. "I was afraid," I began. "Is it possible that you can be afraid? Do I inspire you with fear?" "No; it is not that. You do not understand " And I took possession of! her hands, which she extended toward me. "It is vou who do not understand! Do you not know you have power to save me from ntier misery?degradation?perhaps from death?" "I?save you? For heaven's sake be calm?explain. Only tell me how I can do all this, and I will " "Love me!*" she cried, and a wave of orimson rushed into her face; her head drooped against my shoulder. I clasped her iu my arms, assuring her again and again that I loved her with my entire heart and soul. And it was true. At that moment,' carried away by the fascination of her beauty, her appealing helplessness, I loved her?madly. CHAPTER VL A 8TEPM0XHEB'S confideitce. Madly! That was just it. I was madly in love in every sense of the term. I had succumbed at once to the passion as many a better man had done before ? as many wui continue to do until the end of time. What was to come of it? I wondered, as I sat smoking in my room all through lift nmnll honrn. The eirl was at least as much in love with me as I with ber; of that I had not the least doubt. She was of age; I, my own master; none could say us nay. But, alas, the means?the means most certainly were wanting! Even supposing Mrs. Hargreave approved of me sufficiently to make her stepdaughter a handsome allowance, would my pride permit me to live on that? I ought to have v left for Coaltown by the earliest train on Monday morning, but, of course, under existing circumstances, that was out of the question. At 7:30, when I opened my door- I found a letter lying?a letter addressed to me in an unknown band. Tearing in open I read these words: . Dear Mb. Dudley: After what has occurred between my stepdaughter and yourself, you will scarcely be ear prised that I should desire an interview with you. Will you call upon mo at 11 o'clock? Believe me Blncerely yours, Mabtha Habgbeave, I wrote, agreeing tp call at 11 o'clock for the fateful meeting, telegraphed to the bank that my absence that day was unavoidable, and scarcely knew whether I stood on my heels or my head till I found myself entering the door of No. 29. Mrs. Hargreave only was in the room. She received me with a solemnity of manner for which I was quite unprepared, L AV* Mm?vtA?A^a nnaT. IDOUgD, CUllbiUCiUlg IUO 11U1WUUUI uut? ?>ected events that had occurred to me fttely. I nead not have been surprised at anything. When we were both Be&ted, "Mr. Dudley, "she began, "you would, of course, not expeot to near from me yesterday. I passed the whole of the day in prayerprayer for guidance, sir, and I think my petition has been heard." A dead Bilence ensued, during which I was intensely conscious that my heart was beating twenty to the minute faster than it ought to do, my countenance betraying sentiments which it would be better policy to hide; but I spoke no word. "You have told my stepdaughter that you love her," said Mrs. Hargreave presently. Now that she was coming to the point I was ready enough with a reply. "I love her dearly, passionately. But I fear?in one sense?Hopelessly. ~ "Why do you say 'hopelessly?' " "Because I have not the wherewithal to support a wife." Probably you have heard my husband died a wealthy man?" "i have reason for supposing bo, certainly." "And, naturally, you erpeot Miss HarI greave to be an heiress?" "Pardon me, Mrs. Hargreave. I will be perfectly frank with you. Hearing that Mr. Hargreave died nch, it would have been but natural for me to expect he had left his wealth to his only child. But it has come to my knowledge?no matter how?that everything was leit to you. if I understand rightly, Miss Hargreave has not a shilling; but that does not prevent my loving her. As to my own affairs, I will tell you in as few words as possible all about them." And I did. When 1 had ended, she said: "Thank you. I will be equally candid. I had heard something of this " "Ah, from Dr. Oaacoigne, thenl He is the only man to whom 1 have spoken of myself since coming to the North." "And you showed great discretion and considerable disoernment of character, Mr. Dudley, in making a friend of such a man." "May I ask how long you have yourself been acquainted with Dr. Gascoigne?" in* ?aired I, waiting witn peculiar interest or her reply. "I?I bad a Blight attack of illness a few days ago, and consulted him. In the coarse of conversation I asked if he knew yon. He said he did, and on my making further inquiry he spoke of you in such high terms of commendation that ?that She paused in evident embarrassment. It became my duty, obviously, to assist her. Almost beside myself with happiness, I did so thus: "In fact, having heard so much in my favor, I need not regard my case as altogether hopeless?" Here I must remark that never once while mtsing her explanation did Mrs. Hargreave look at me. She sat with her eyes fixed on the carpet, her hands folded, together on her lap. Occasionally she came to a dead stop, and sometimes her voice sank very low and trembled. [to'be continued.] the action or tne Tennessee mountaineers in breaking up by force of arms the odious system of convict lease-labor will be variously criticised. The State authorities claim that they "-ni T?n-oc+.;>'hliah t,hp. system Uliii UUU ?T UX V?? ? - in the very^ region whence it has been bo forcibly rejected. But they will think better of this. Every man who believes in the dignity of labor, and in the right of the workingman to protect himself from crushing competition, will sympathize with . the hardy men of the mountains who have struck a fierce blow at a barbarous survival of savage times. The North has "never been willing to adopt a system which has so marry repulsive features, and which is so manifestly contrary to the interests of free and honest workmen.. If Northern men, urged by greed, have now and then profited by the system, it must not be understood that their fellow-citizens approved their course. The South, where convict lease-labor has been almost exclusively employed, is gradually awakening to a sense of the barbarity of the plan. The rifle shots of the Tennessee miners, who believe in a free field for honest men, have sounded the knell of an institution which never had a single argument in its favor. Tiie Woman's Baking Company, Just incorporated at Chicago, will be a commercial novelty. It is made up of W. C. T. 17. women in and out of the windy citf, has a capital stock of $250,000, will use only pure materials, will have the work done by women, and promises to run the whole big establishment on business principles. If they can avoid strikes and keep out male cousins at the times when the ">read must be taken out to insure its being done to a turn, the enterprise should win hand over hand. GREAT HUNTERS. ' TO BE REPRESENTED AT THE WORLD'S PAIR. A Grand Display of Relics of Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett apd Other Mighty Nimrods to be Made ^ f- 1 H E suggestion <v W WlV/fl f\\ ?* Theodore ill tL V Roosevelt to the if M W orld's -Fair IIy. Commission e tb ^at t'iere should irvawMU v. disPlayed *n J/, I the grea t nationJll/x Itfcttx'mi 1\ ol pvViihition a Ji/ju. j&\ collection of ob</ wl'i' M ject6 illustrating > tbe history of iff/ Wvb ww\m -Ajne"ca lb meet'/// "//* IflftlWoWtt- ing with great favor among all whb have the huntsman's instinct in them. And in such a country as this, where almost every man can trace some drops of his blood to an ancestor who helped clear away the primeval forests, there are few indeed who will not feel the appropriateness of the proposed display and hope that it may be made worthy of the nation. Mr. Roosevelt is well ki'own ae a hunter who has not limited himself to the pursuit of the harmless anise-seed bag, which takes the place of the fox for the Anglo-maniac. He has laken big game in hi? time before the appointment to the Civil Service Commissionership set him on the trail of other kinds of beasts. He has made his suggestion to the World's Fair Commissioners in his capacity as President of the Boone and - mi.:. .?nn;?,f(nn UrOCKetX U1UD* IJild uigaun.av*wuj which bears the name3 of the two hunters whom every school-boy has envied, was formed at a little dinoer in Air. Roosevelt's house, No. 689 Madison avenue, this city, about six years azo. Carl Schurz, ex-Secretary of the Interior; B. H. Bristow, Senator Vest, of Missouri; Senator Manderson, of Nebraska, and several other men of prominence were among the charter members. Archibald Rogers, of Hyde Park, is Secretary, and George Bird Grinnell, of Forest and Stream, is Treasurer. The club has interested itself in securing legislation to pr.event the extermination of big game aud to promote a love of square sportsmanship. fAntelope head with crumpled horn; rifle ?? ? i _Jnn/ut fUn rvrrtn. oau, pOUCO ana powuer uuru, wivo iruc puuerty of a Ute chief?Prom Mr. QrinnelT* collection.) "It seems to me," said Mr. Roosevelt, in giving his views on the proposed exhibition, "that of all the historical American types the frontier hunter is the most characteristic figure in the country's history. Up to the war of 1812 he lived in the big forests of the Allegheny Mountains and in the valleys of the Ohio and Tennessee Rivera. Then as we began to push westward to the great plains the typical frontiersman became a ranchman or a mountaineer. He was a trapper or hunter in the Rockj Mountains or perhaps drove the old time white-topped prairie "schooners" ovei the old Santa Fe trail. He had a quantity of faults, but an equal number of stern and stalwart virtues, and altogether he was a man for the nation to be proud of. Nowadays the whole country is so settling up that the professional hunters and trappers have almost vanished. The last buffalo hunters came to an end in 1883, when the last great herd was destroyed. The hunters and trappers are now onlj to be found in out of the way nooks and UUrueia ui vug xiwwuivo "Our idea is to have first of all the characteristic building in which the frontiersmen lived. We must have the typical log cabins of the frontiersmen and also the big wigwams made of bark and skins. Then alongside tbe hunter's tent a genuine old prairie schooner or canvas topped wagon which was U9ed by so many thousands of settlers, wandering cattle men and Santa Fe traders. Horses and mules should be picketed near by. Everything should conduce to the renlism of the picture of that life wherein was developed some of the best and highest courage of our country. "If the authorities of the World'u Fair will allow, and I have no doubt 'tbey will, I'll import from my ranch in tbe Rockies cowbows to take charge of the exhibition and show the whole thing to the Fair visitors. Then we shall have all kinds of hor3es and packing gear in use on Western ranches and in the mountains. Also a fisherman's camp ?nf <fAntiprampn's dtJOTOUt I ; Wltu an out wo vi " ? _ a canoes, etc. The typical costumes of frontiersmen will be represented and his weapons and hunting rifles. I know where we can get Daniel Boone's hunting rifle and another that belonged to Davy Crockett, both weapons characteristic of the days when the long barrel flint-lock small-bore heavy rifle was the principal weapon of the backwoods men of the Wc3t. I have a rifle of Kit Carson thai would bring us down to the middle ol the century. We will have the rifles that have been in actual use on the plains for the last thirty years?the heavy, long-range Sharps that destroyed the great ouaaio nerds, and tne Winchesters, Remingtons and others, which will comnlete the chain that will show the developementof the hunter's weapon. "But the largest exhibition of all will be that of American game. We will have first-class specimens, magnificently mounted, of all the species native in this country and plenty of them. We will have one individual of every kind ol game, and a great collection of the finest heads and robes. We will get together the finest collection of hunting trophies ever seen. I know we can do it. "It has been my good fortune to shoot almost every kind of big American ! game. I will do whatever lean to assist in the success of the exhibition, and I am sure that from hunters all over the country will come such contributions as will make the display of the first interest and value." There is no risk in saying that thd huntsmen of the country will respond to this suggestion of the Boone and Crockett Club. Few of those who do not indulge in the pleasure of the chase realize how many men whose talents and wealth make them prominent find in this sport their favorite relaxation. It may be a surprise to many to learn that the Rev. Dr. Rainsford turns from his peaceful calling now and then to shoot big game in the Rockies, and that he has a notable collection of grizzly bear heads and other mementoes of adventure as wild is any healthy boy dreams of after a dinner of unlimited turkey and mince pie. President Seth Low, of Columbia College. is another nimrod and collector of Hunting tropnies. Austin Corbin has a remarkable collection of antlers, buflalo robes and Btu?Eed game of all kinds known to America. He is a great lorer of hunting, and owns a park in New Hampshire/ well Btocked with deer and another on Liong island. Austin Corbin's collection . of deer antlers is unexcelled. He has a lot of rifles, also, that belonged to tho ? early hunters and trappers of the West. Claua Spreckles, the Sugar King, has a grand collection of fine specimens of American game. He is expert with the rifle, and nearly all his collection is made up from the spoils of his own trips to the Rockies: He goes out there hunt* ing every year. Ex-Secretary of the Navy William C. Whitney has a lot of fine specimens of mounted game killed in his Western trips. He is greatly in favor of the proposed exhibition at Chicago, and has , volunteered to send any specimen desired from h:s collection. He also has a lot of old rifles and relics that belonged to frontiersmen in his library. Ex-President Arthur had one of the finest collections in the country, and Mr. Roosevelt has learned from a fnend of the family that it will be at the disposal of the Boone nnd Crockett Club for the fair. Mr. Arthur was a great sports (Dress of banter 1800 to 1840; old-fashioned backwoodsman; from a sketch taken in the Tennessee Mountains of a companion of Daniel Boone.?From Dan Beard's collection of sketches and historical objects.) man, and killed many deer with fine heads and antlers on his trip to the Rockies, and many a moose in the forests of Maine. Senator Manderson, of Nebraska, a member of the Boone and Crockett Club, has a collection of antlers and heads of different kinds of big game that is very fine. He also has a room filled with Indian relics ana mbiunu tunti&o uum old. pioneer days, with a mammoth collection of pictures, photographs and paintings of early scenes in the historyof our country. His paintings embrace pretty much all kinds of American game. Carl Schurz ha? a collection that is very choice, but not large. He has already suggested sending them to the ' Fair and strongly favors the proposed exhibition. It is Commissioner Roosevelt's idea that a suitable building should be set apart for this exhibition. The Boone and Crockett Club is willing to give, all the aid in its power?and that is considerable?and will bear such share of the expenses as may seem eligible. Birthplaces of Legislators. New York claims the honor of contributing more of her sons to the House of Reoresentatives at Washington than any other State, there being 41 Representatives who were born in the Empire State. Other States furnish legislators for themselves aDd sister States as follows: Pennsylvania, 38; Ohio, 28; Indiana, 18; Massachusetts, 17; Kentucky, 15; Virginia, 14; North Carolina, 13; Georgia, 12, Tennessee, 11; South Carolina, 10; Illinois, 8, Alabama, 7; Maine, Mississippi, Michigan, Maryland Missouri, 6 each; Connecticut and New Jersey, 5 each; Wisconsin, Vermont and Louisiana, 4 each; Arkansas and Rhode 1 Island, 2 each; Florida, California and Delaware, 1 each. Kentucky, and New Mexico were the birthplaces of two of the Territorial delegates. Foreign counties have contributed 21 members and 2 delegates. These are distributed as follows: Ireland, 9; Germany^; Canada, 3; Norway, 2; Sweden, 1; Greece, 1; England, 1, and Scotland, 1. One of the Territorial dele' gates is from the Isle of Man; another | hails from Nova Scotia.?Aeio York | I .Trent. The Latest. Mr. Raymond Lipe,who is an inveterate bicyclist, determines not to be deprived of his sport by the winter winds, and invents a bicycling-box.?Judge. "i- W. x- ',v U > 1 .* * I Another Grace Darling. The spirit of Grace Darling still sur. ( vivea, and the fact that "omen are cap- ( able of acts of physical bravery as re- j mark able as that of the famous heroine ( is strikiDgly illustrated in the case of ^ Hiss Blanche Hays, an English girl, who | has been awarded the honorary testimo- , nial of the Royal Humane Society for . saving the life of a Miss Saunders at , Oddiscombe last June, under, circumstances displaying unusual courage and MISS BLANCHE HAT8. presence of mind. Oddiscombe is a watering-place, and Miss Saunders, while bathing, got beyond her depth. The beach where the accident occurred has a sharp fall of three or four feet, and the young lady, being unaware of this, ventured outside the safety line. Her screams attracted the attention of Miss Hays, who was also in the water,and she at once swapa to her assistance. She reached the spot just as the unfortunate girl was about to sink for the last time. The latter had sufficient strength left, however, io throw her arms around the neck of her rescuer. Miss Hays was nearly dragged under by the added weight, but managed to draw her friend almost to shore when a fisherman came to her assistance. Miss Hays did not stop her good work here, but immediately set about to restore Miss Saunders, who had fainted from fright and exhaustion. Mies Saunders cannot swim, and undoubtedly owes her life to the promptness and pluck of the girl who now wears the medal of the royal society. The Bottle Knot Here is a knot that is both ornamental and unaful. It is one that is made with great facility, and is not only of an exceedingly ornamental character, as a succession of knots can be made on the same string and used as a braid, but is of considerable utility in* carrying a bottle or vase, as shown in the second figure. I THE BOTTLE KNOT, THE BOTTLE KNOT, AS TIED AND USED Afl USED FOB BE* IK ORNAMENTAL CUBING CORKS. BRAIDING. , If before the knot is pulled tight it is put round the neck of a vase or bottle and then tightened, it takes a secure grip so that either of these articles can fce carried. Then by tying a simple flat knot across the top of a bottle that is corked it prevents the cork from flying *sut. This is particularly valuable for catsup bottles. Philosophers are supposed to weigh well their words before giving advice, but, like common mortals, they frequently find that second thoughts are best. A lady recently /virion!tAri Pnnnt. Tolstoi as to how she could best dispose of her surplus wealth, amounting to about $200,000. "Burn it," replied the Count promptly. But in a day or two he remembered that riches are only a curse when improperly used and serve as many worthy purposes as evil ones, so he wrote to the lady outlining a plan for the expenditure of the money in charitable work. It is to be hoped that the eccentric Russian nobleman will not be so hasty in future, but think twice before giving advice. Dr. Keeley, the man who claims that he can cure drunkenness, has established a branch of his institute in Kansas. The experiment of providing an antidote for prohibition whisky is certainly a reckless one, and if it proves successful, the intrepid inventor may yet have the boldness to open au institute in Kentucky. No man or woman was ever created too good to do honest wopk, and those who shirk their duty are only sowing seeds of trouble. There is work to do everywhere, in the office, on the farm, in the store, on the ranch, at the bank counter and in all departments of life. The true philosophy and genuine happiness of life is only found in doing honest work. Solicitous Spouse?"What makes you 4ook so -worried lateij? You're not like tout self.'* Great Lawyer?"Weu,i m naving considerable trouble down town." Spouse?"Now you must tell me all about it.*' Lawyer?"Well, you see, I want to keep the office opea till five, and the office boy wants to close it at four, and we can't seem to arrange matters."? Boston Courier. The longest dav of the year at Stock* holm, Sweden, is%ighteen and one-half hours in length. At Spitzbergen, three And one-half months. At London, Eng' jland, sixteen and one-half hours, and at New Yorks about fifteen hours long. -1 i, H I i AD VICE TO CHILI H Thill, bewargl Hj Jar yenerabre TJncle Sam |B| [8 slow to -vrrath, but when he start* H Dot on tbe warpath flpfl [t takes a continent to hold him, Hj Be careful how jon get HH Sis dander np. Hfl Tis quite alittle trip around the Horn ro get in good position for a kick BH At tou, but if he undertakes the trip' SH He'll get there! jW And mark yon, Chili, H Phere is a bird?a large, tough, healthj* bird? B9 That has been known to fly |m From Washington to Africa & And come back home with both his talonflr BH full Of wool. It wouldn't take him very long to makeA flying visit anywhere In South America. He's harmless if he's let alone, but don't Throw stones at him Or poke him with yonr cane, for then . , He's dangerous. This tough old fowl st?l? roosts Upon the flag pole's topmost end. Below bim waves the Stars and Stripes. We call him, Chili, The American Eagle. And Sou'd better Not stir Him Up? ?Chicago Tribune PITH AND POINT. : . A fire-trap?The candle snuffer. Rules of the road?Surveyor's chain*./; Two things s woman always jumps at ?A conclusion and a mouse. Reputation may be a bubble, but he io an unwise man who bursts it. . A man nevei has so great a trouble aft when be has one he can't blame on any one else.?Atchison Globe. If a man thinks of a mean thwg to doj the first man he meets knows of a good way to do it.?Atchison Globe. t VniiT fricni] tnftv be the HOTll of hog.' pitality, but he Is not apt to forget that itisyour treat.? Galvaton Newt. "Mamma," said little Nell, "is it the J artificial rain that , makes the artificial flowers grow?"?Baltimore American. I don't believe the earth goes round, Despite what books declare? I'm sore it doesn't go round, because; I never got my share. ?Puck. Great men owe their fame to the little* . . ness of the rest of the world. - Fame is only a result of comparison.?Ttxat Sifl~\ ings. ' i A clear conscience may be a sore cure for insomnia,but what the country needs is a lower priced drag for this disease.-?},. Washington Pott. When a dog is in his own dooryard hoi i doesn't have to be very big to be bravej enough to bark at an elephant in the| street.?Bam'* Bom. This world is so crowded that yoti can't pat one man on the back without stepping on another man's toes when yon' do it.?Atchuon Globe. . Professor (about to have his hair cut) ?"Donnerwetter,how cold it is! Too! nrilT allnttr ms in IrOAn IDV bit flTl WAflf. T*il* ouwn MV ?w wvvy M?J . . v?i| _ -J,., you!"-?Hinkende Bate Kalender. , There is a difference between sittingi before the fire and thinkfag about doing! , good and going oat in the cold and do-' ing it.?Fort Qaixe* Chronicle. He lost? button from hit coat. She said he'd do her best: It took one boor, and then the found She'd sewed it to his rest. ?Clothier and Furnisher. When a man begins his remarks with the phrase, "There's no nee talking/' yon may as well settle yourself down to listen to a long iig\im&xxt.r^JndianapoUi Newt. The bomb-thrower, who tried to kill, Russell Sage is said to have been cool' when he entered tbe office. He certainly! was collected after he left it.Slates-' man. You laugh at your poor neighbor's troubles, but if their story were written! in a morocco-bound book you and your. Twntild rru ovc.r them.?Atchison' lauuij nwuiv* v.j -? __ T.. _ Globe. ' When a hungry lion becomes eham ored with the charms of a fat lamb he begins to regard all other lions as bun- I -gry thieves. There is a suggestion in A this of the.way a man in love feels.? I Atchuon Globe. I Timmins?"What a boor Vickars is. fl I d6 detest a man who insists on asking / about one's clothes." Simmons?"Been / asking you where you got that new over/ 1 coat?" Timmins? 'No. He asked ma 1 how I got it."?lndianapolit Journal* ( "What do we get from iodine?' / Inquired the tutor placid. I ' "I think." replied a brilliant youth, / "Tis idiotic add," The tutor frowned and said, "A-humf / Young friend, have you been talcing some?" f ?Pharmaceutical Era. Mudge?"What an aggravatinghabit Wickwire has of answering a question by asking another?" Yabsicy?"I never noticed it." Mudge?"Now, for instance, last night I asked him if he would lend me a sovereign. He didn't say whether he could or not, but asked me if I took him for a fool."?Tid-Bitt. A Clever Hone. This story shows the intelligence of a Kentucky roan, who was left in an open paddock fastened by means of a wooden hasp. This he learned in a few days to take out with his teeth and drop ? nnlTT to lmvp. it carefullv replaced by tbe stable boy, who displayed a wonderful intuition about discovering it. Finally, when it became plain to his^ horseish understanding that there was nothing to be gained by such 11 performance he tried the experiment of carrying it over to the other side of the fence and letting it fall into u neighboring yard. Now it so happened that his owner caught him in the act aud relentlessly went and fastened him in again; then o rlistanre he watched to see what would come next. As he had expected, the horse diligently loosened the stick again, but?now come* the queer part of it?instead of putting it iu any of tho old places he gave one dcdant snor: acd laboriously set to work to eat it up. If his object was the t^tul annihilation of the hasp there is no doubt he accomplished it fully. All of which goes to prove what a splendid disregard of splinters and a little ingenuity can accomplish.? Chicago Bishop Butler, of England, believed in the immortality of auimuls. I