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A CHARACTER [ " PARADOX. I tl i ii Jack Bowdoin's Conversion w and How It Came About. w ti BY CLAY M. GREENE. h PSAPTEE U.?Continued. And the astute Mr. Sampson made the following entry in niB euDBcnpuon t? t>ook: "Mary Clarissa Bowdoin, cash $1,000." y "And now, Parson," said Jack,"there's jomethin' else. I want to learn to play n the organ by note, and you can put me b< on the right road to It." U "How so?" "Nobody in Aspen but Miss Charles a ; knows how to teach it, and a month u ago you wouldn't let her give me a lesson." b "I was afraid that any connection with you-?" y "Would give her * bad name, that's g( It. But I'm different now; I'm a changed man. I go to church twice every Sunday. I sent to Chicago and t>; had an organ brought to my place, and every night I play church music to the <j, boys." t< "Mr. Bowdoin, you surprise ?e!" "Yes, and you can bet a stack o' blues 1 surprised the boys, too! Wby, you r< hear me, Parson, just give m* half a ii show, and I'll have that there church v o' yourn chock full o' religious gamblers. " y "That would indeed be a most desir aDie victory or tne xrutn over em. -w "Well, if it wouldn't, you can break p me! And you can help bring it about." jj "Do tell me, how?" Mr. Sampson wa9 p now becoming interested. h "Why," replied Jack, with much c warmth, "by writin' a note to Miss Charles tellln' her she must teach me h iow to read notes. Then the boys gl won't get tired o' the old tunes." b "Do you ever pray with your friends, Mr. Bowdoin?" This was something of a staggerer to ]? Jack, but, as he expressed it in his n thoughts, he had "made the bluff, and must play out his hand." S "Well, no. "Xou sge, I haven't got the b hansr o' Dravin' lust vet. and ji I had, P, ' they wouldn't understand it. So I j? thought J'd better get at 'em first) throilgh the inspirin' music o' the organ. | ai . "Yes, I think I do. The idea is novel, ^ and ought to prove very effective. I will write the note to Miss Charles." a "That's right, Parson, and let me de- ^ liver it." ^ The note giving to Miss Helen Charles her pastor'6 permission to accept Mr. a John Bowdoin as a music pupil, "for religious reasons," was duly written, and Jack, seizing it eagerly, arose to go. t< "One moment, my friend," 6aid Mr. y Sampson. "Have you a Bible?" a "Er?well?no. You see, I loaned it e to a friend o' mine that's goin' to be n hung." d . "Take this then, "handing Jack a small Bible, "a6 a gift of uffection from me, 0 end with it my blessing." And the man h of ?od pressed the gambler warmly by tl the hand. n v As Jack passed out of the parsonage g with the precious note in his pocket and e< the Bible in his hand, he found himself K "a; 3 *? ? A mutton a RDV. V Buireu uy XUUOt uiai vmvwvuw. U eral contending forces seemed to 'wrangle in his breast. He was deeply moved by the 6oft speech and tender manner of the benevolent old pastor, j] and within his heart of hearts there h was just a tinge of remorseful rebuke n for havibg lied so tremendously to the t worthy man. b "I can square it though," he thought, "by makin' it come true. I -wonder how g It'd work? I wonder if the Bible forbids <v gambiin'? I'll read it to night and find d out. * t By this time he had reached the Hop- c kins cottage, and his musings ceasod. t For the second time he stood at the door, and rang the bell. It was opened t "by Helen Charles heiself, and before r she could recover from her surprise at f finding him again in her presence, he c had placed Mr. Sampson's note in her ( hand t "Here's a letter from the parson, c Hiss." i "For me?" t "Ye6, he told me to fetch it to you." j She opened it and began to read. He \ thought he noticed a look of pleasure on j her handsome face, but said nothing un- ( til she had folded the sheet and replaced t it in the envelope. 1 "Will you learn me now, Miss?" , "Yes, Mr. Bowdoin," she replied, .smilingly, "most willingly." j Hecai'l nothing for a moment or two ' but looked into ner race with eyes full *j of earnestness and gratitude. Then when he had stammered out a grateful b "Thank you, Miss, I'll never forget this as long as I live," she saw two great tears tremble down his cheeks ana fall at her feet. Noticing, too, his embarrassment at this involuntary exhibition of weakness, she came to his rescue. j "Shall you be ready to begin at once?" "Any time you say, Miss." "Now?" "Yes, Miss, if it wouldn't be too much 8 UVU UiC. "I have no instrument at home, but if 11 jou have no objection -we will go over to 3i the church." p 80 they -walked silently down the hill r together and entered the church. This guileless, innocent girl, whose soul bad b never yet become tainted by a single a impure .bought, sat trembling beside p the professional outcast, who had been s cradled in the lap of vice, nurtured into rl mtnhood by the fruits of sin; whose f whole career had been one of outlawry r and crime. And there in the little organ loft, with no listeners save the rafters *, and the pews, the Vulture took his first B music lesbon from the Dove. t t CUAJ'TEK III. E 3e?ore thg evening fell, the lesson 8 wa6 over, swb we Tar:0 announcement s that it was so fell like a cloud over the Bpirit of the pupil. The new atmosphere e In which for two hours he had found ( himself made him feel as though he t would never tire, if it could only con- t tinue on and on forever. Helen had t B?vid nothing to him that was net in the ( line of instruction, and yet her every ( word sent a thrill of fervcr and delight \ through every nerve. She spoke in a gentle, almost friendly tone, yet he would not for worlds have dared to ask her a single question, lest the sound of | kis voice might break the spell she had { east about him. Bhe was 60 close to %iia at times, that ner snouiuer urncnea CIb. and lie co^cl feel her sweet breath j upon hi6 face?but he vrouJd rather have ( plunged hie hand into a scathing furbact than defile her virgin form with j bit unholy louch They were Elysium, ( those two hours i*j the organ loft; they were freighted over and over again with the delicate seiibe of purity, and the delightful comfort that iiab its birth in ! peace and rest. And she? Be it. by no means sup os-ed that she, too, was not. impressed py the novelty of her position; that per girl's heart was not stirred by a '. jlepth of sentiment she had never felt ; Delore. She knew that tbu man by hor j liue was an apostle of sin, one whom men ieated auU goo<J bjqu ghufln^d. , he *new xobtb tsw frenoar? nana e imired, as it flew over the keys of t rgan, had more than onee be iained with a fellow-creature's blot nd yet she neither feared r lunned him, but, rather, felt her6< rawn to him, If not by the grandc f his passion for music, at least le hope that hers might be the he] ig hand to drag him out of the pit hich he had chosen to pasB his life. "Must you go 60 soon, Miss?" Ja sked, earnestly, as she announc lat the lesson was over. "Yes, they will be expecting me ome." "When can I have another lesson?* "Hie day after to-morrow." ""TCTiy not to-morrow?" "I should be afraid that people inlg ilk." "I see, I see," he replied, 6adly. "A ou don't know, Miss, how I thanky >r takin' this interest in me. wi lust I do to make myself good enoug j's people won't talk when tliey see )gether?" "Our good pastor gave you mankim tost useful manual to-day. That v :ach you everything." "Will it, Miss? Then I'll learn it y heart." "And you may tell me how mu ou've read at our next lesson. Nc ood-evening." And she offered him her hand. He looked at her for a moment lank surprise, and then said: "No, Miss; you don't know what you oin'. My hand ain't pure enough >uch yours?not yet?wait." "I will ta^e it now." He seized her hand eagerly, thou jverently, and for the first time in 1 fe used the name of the Deity oth< ise than in the framing of an oath. "God bless yer, Miss; God bl< er! " Then placing a bank note in her hai 'ith the remark that he would rati ay as he went along, he left her ale i the loft, descended to the churi a6sed out into the Btreet, and wall) astily in the direction of the "Lit asino." After he had gone, Helen examin erflretfeeaand gave vent to a 6crearn arprise. it -was a one-nundred-dol! ill. Arriving at his place of business, Ja as received with shouts of drisi lughter, which continued for 6ome n lents. After it had subsided, he spol "Well, what's the matter now?" "Ha, ha, ha!" laughed a burly gai ler, "we've got yer now, Jack; we' ot yer dead to Yights! Ain't we boyi "Yes, yes. sure!" from twenty throa "why, wliai are you driving a1 sked Jack, with flashing eyes, for ad begun to divine their meaning. "Why, we watched ye this afterno nd seen ye sneakin' into the chui ith that yaller-haired young heifer [opkins'." Jack's pistol was out in an insta: nd his face grew livid with rage. "Now, listen to me,every one of yer! on't explain, because this is no pla > di;ag her name into. But let me t ou this, and you all know I never gi warnin' but once. If one o* you m ver dares to speak that lady's name ly hearin* again, by God, I'll kill h ead!" There was a lull in the room, and ne made any attempt at a retort, foi ad long been a well-established fi aat when Jack's pistol wa6 out ever stopped to bandy words. Aftei lance about the room, to 6ati6fy hi elf that his threat had produced the < Lred effect, Jack turned coolly to 1 ead employe. "How's the 'game runnin', Shorty?" "Fust-rate; we win three th .u6and. "Let her go!" ejaculated Jack, che y. "You don't need me, so I'll ome and do some readin*. Go< ight." And, leaving the saloon,he w< o his room at Mrs. Brown's boardii ouse, sat in an easy chair, took fr is pocket the Bible given him by 1 iampson, and began to read. He < oured the entire book of Geneeis, lered his supper, and spent the n tour in eating, smoking, and mus: iver the strange history of the cr ion?read for the first time. "Six days!" he queried. "How co V/vnr T'vo rrnf n rnn.lt beh uai uci ^ ? ay bar that was blowed open and a 1 ouna inside. Professor Smith said t ouldn't a been made in a million yet 3uess I'll have to ask the parson ab liat." He passed into the second sti >f Bible reading and did not pau66 ie had completed Exodus, when he mother cigar and then continued eading. It was not an inspiriting p ;ime to a man of his tastes, but he nembered his promise to Helen ) ;lung to his ta6k with stolid pertinac intil the little clock on his table str -wo, when he undressed himself i Tent to bed. "There's one thing I like about Bible," he mused before going to sit ThATe's not onejwprd.in itjiein dea axo banY, arid so the old game g( ight on just the same as ever." Early next morning he was awaker y a loud knocking at his door, and ! leepy "Come in!" wa9 followed by 1 ntrance of Sheriff West. "Hallo, Sheriff! What's up?" "1 subpoena you to serve on a jury.' "What jury?" "There's a crazy woman at the Co' louse, and we've called a jury to < ide a6 to her insanity." "What the blazes do I know about anity?" "Nothing?neither do the doctors. 1 t's the law, and you've got to oor 'ou're called for 9 o'clock, and It's hi + TW\TX7 Cn 11TTT7 linl " A T1H epresentative of the law disappeared Jack growled out a grotesque cc ination of expletives and hurled th t the laws of the country whioh ct elicd a tree and independent citizen it uj.on a jury against his will. But ressed himself, swallowed a cup of c ee, and betook himself to the cou oom. As outlined by the Sheriff, the ji rere to decide upon the sanity or unity of an unfortunate woman, i he case was easily disposed of. It \ i manifestly hopeless one, ani \vith irgutLsenr, 6ne was pronounced msa tnd the Judge committed her to state asylum. "Gentlemen," 6aid the Judge, a: ijgning the commitment, "tlicro is >ther phrase ot this case which is n: ouching. The woman is entirely ou neans, and has left a very young el otaliy unprovided for. Much as 1'ourt regrets such a course, it m iommit tha ltttle unforr.unate to the p louse." Jack's aympatheic chord was touc it thiB, and rising quickly to his feet, iddreesed the Judge, most e&rnes >ut with an entire absence of respect lial dignitary. "Hold on, Judge, that's not right!" "What's that! Are you address :his Court, 6ir?" retorted the Judge, v lignified severity. "That'B what I'm doing. Judge Strc [ say it's not right! That poor he lin't a fit pla^-e to feed hogs in, let al luman beings, and worst of all a li ;hild. This may not be respect ludge, but it's business, and you ki t n better'n I do!" "What other course would you e ;e*tv" "I don't know. Thunder, Judgo, my business to make trouble, not keep people out of it. You've jxot u li ily?why don't you take the liuie home yourself?" "Abein! Ah?well, that would be Lot fit her uyt q! Uj.e Question." k. i I "Say, Jet's nave a looR at the kid, will he, you?" en )(j . The child was produced?a girl about l0ji 6 years of age, with a delicate face, ejf every line of which was tinged with traces of apparent refinement. A murky! inur of admiration passed through the court-room, and every eye was turned upon Jack Bowdoin. Ho looked at the ! child, held out his hand to her, and she ^v' ran to him as though she had known him always. "Judge Strong, do you mean to tell at me that you've got the heart to send this poor little thing to that slaughter i house?" "You cannot teach me my duty, sir!" "Yes, I canl You bet, I can! You're a good Christian, they tell me, and I'm ' nothin' but a gambler and jailbird! But n(j I've got somethin' inside this here ou Dreast o' mine that I wouldn't trade for lat y?ur Christianity at odds o' ten to one! pjj Do you know what it i6, Judge Strong? *Ug It's a pity, and I offer to take the little ' 'un myself and give her a home." - - * A-J iLU j'g A burst 01 appiau6e greeieu una rill speech, and the Judge administered the usual perfunctory rebuke. Then, turnall ing to Jack, he 6aid: "I would be willing, Bowdoin, to grant icjj you adoption papers for the child, could I be convinced that you are the proper ' person to care for her, which is doubtful. in "Well, give me a chance; that's all I ask. I can't take care of her myself, re but I've got the money to pay some one to who can. Judge, what do yer say?*" "My child," said the Judge, "do you wish to go with this gentleman?" gh The little w.aif climbed upon Jack's ate ^ ^ ^? ?? S ? ve THE L1ITL.E WAIF CLIMBED UPON JACK'S KNEE. 5f ts. ;?" knee, threw her arms about his neck he and no6tled her tiny face in his breast. "The child is placed in charge of Mr. on John Bowdoin, pending the considera ch .tion of the issuance of adoption papers." al : Cheer upon cheer greeted this decision ' of the court. No attempt was made this at, time to quell them and the Judge, in what appeared to be pantomime,declared ! I an adjournment and withdrew. .c? Stock in Jack Bowdoin as a result of ell this touching proof of his goodness of ive, heart had risen 200 per cent, in the estiec mation of the good people of Aspen, in The story spread like wildflre, and as he in: passed down the street with the child in his arms he received congratulation* no and friendly 6miles from men who an : il hour before would not have spoken to ict him. One prominent citizen, who had he twioe attempted to have him indicted for a keeping a disreputable resort, approachm ed, and grasped him warmly by the le- hand. iiis "Bowdoin," said he, "I have done you wrong, and I ask your pardon, lour action regarding this child proves you " everv inch a man." ,.r- *"frhy, mars all rlgnt, Mr. Hastgc ings," replied Jack, modestly. "I only )d- done what any one with a 60ul ought to mt do," ig- "Not at all," asseverated Mr. Hastings, om with much warmth. "Judge Strong klr, claims to have a soul, and has provideo ie* for its salvation by close attention to or? what he assumes to be the duty of a est good Christian. He has been in error ing ' You taught him that duty to-day, Jack, ea- and are, at heart, a better Christian than he." uld "That's what I want to be, Mr. HastI-'J T'rr, o+ii/^vrlri' Anf thfl nnmhlnft. I LIU lU^D, UiiU A U1 OWUUJ lu VUfc vuv vvmovu-w Isb tionsnow." hat "Continue as you have begun, and irs. vou will succeed, my boy. Good mornou* mg." And they shook hands again and l6e parted. tiU "It's a comin'," thought Jack, as he 1H trudged up the hill towards Mrs. Brown's with his burden of sunshine. "It's a us* comin' sure. I may not get to be such re* a crackin' good Christian, but I'll be a in<^ square man, and that'll see me fixed ity comfortably when the end comes." ucl Here his reverie was Interrupted by a ^ tiny little voice from ihe direction of his right shoulder: th? 'Where are you taking me to?* lfn "Hello, little one. "Why, I com? >e? pretty nigh forgettln yer. I'm a takln' yor to Mrs. Brown's, where I live, and |0(j 6he'll be a second mother to yer." hia "I don't want Mrs. Brown. I want he J00-" "Oh, I'll be there to see that she treats you right. But I say. You ain't ? told me yer name yet; what is It?" UTT.l N neieu. urj The sound of that name went to his ie- veI7 80U^' ant* **e a thrill of love that went to the very tips of his fingers jn. and sent the blood to his face. He placed her upon the ground, brushed oack her matted curis, ana Kissed Lei reverently upon the forehead. n?- "That settles it, baby; all the gold in *lf- these here mountains couldn't get you the away from me now." ' "What's your name?" she'asked. >m- "Well, you'd better call me Jack, I rcckon." >m* "I don't like that," 6he said, pouting1 ly; "I want to call you papa." he He clasped her impulsively to his heart, arid kissed her again and again, irt- "So you shall, my little darling, and the man never lived that was as good a ury papa as I'll be to you." in- "What aie you cryin' for?" rod "Crvin'? Why, them ain't tears. I'm vas so full o' joy and happiness and suncut shine that some of it's got to leak out, ne that's all! But I see Mrs. Brown on the stoop. Like enough 6he's worryiu' cause I'm so late to breakfast. Come, ami I'll introduce yer." an- lio be comisced.i lost l.Pj CUSTER'S $1500 CHICK. iiid | Drawn in His Favor the l)ay of the MnssalU?* ere and Never Cashed. OOI Tlie tragic death of General Custer and his . gallant men at the hands of the Sioux Inhed Jians iu th? massacre of the Little Big Horn , he was recalled at Bismarck". North Dakota, by tiy. the forwarding to Mr.s. Custer of a check fol fur 41500. drawn to the ord<r of General Georg* A. Custer in 1876. The check is dated June 25, aud stoned by B. L. Smith, at that time Assistant Paymas ith ter u Arm-V* ^ was 011 ^UL(i 25, 1876, ' that the massacre took place. The check is still unpaid and, soiled and '?? tattered though it be. constitutes a valid U88 ciaim against the Government for the amount one represented upon its face, which was no ttle doubt intended sis part payment of General juj Custer's salary. 10W I Where the check has been all the33 years no one knows, least of all Michael Francis, who found it on a street in Bismarck last)FebiUS" ruary and who retained it until now. When Francis picked it up the bit of paper was it's almost legible as when it was drawn, but to three heavy creases in it showed that it had iim. beeu carried in a pocketbook. It has evidently been under shelter somewhere, and the chances are that it was mis, laid last February and swept into the street, wiiere it was found by M.r. Francis. NEW FASHION FAD. b6 HUGE BELTS EIGHT INCHES DEEP WOKN BY WOMEN. Will Make Stout Women Shorter and Slim Ones More flraceful?Latest Hints In Millinery. THE belt of the antumn girl is a fashionable monstrosity. It is the most conspicuous arti- / nlo nf )ipr raimfint. RftVS the (2 ^ > u - I V New York World. English women are ' < prone to belts, and Americans are Anglomaniacs by nature, therefore they are following the fashion with a vim set by their sisters across the water. The big stores are exhibiting many new and very striking designs in belts. The ingenuity and originality is surprising, and one wonders what next may seize the feminine fancy and deplete the feminine purse. , Some of the most elegant belts in quality are made of firmlv woven silk elastic, the surface being of satin finish. These vary in width from five to " eight inches, accordingly, as one's physique demands curtailing or enlargement to produce the desired ef- pa] feet. They can be had in colors and i are fastened by elongated clasps and ? novel buckleB conforming to the depth ma of the belt. These are worn with em- am pire gowns to produce the short-waist Th characteristic of this style of dress. wh <D- ? ? ~ .'Ir. aIaa^'a^tt if. novTni'fe fit uy rtJUBUU U1 HO Ciaoutvivj AW ^VA?U4V? V* of the free and graceful motion of the mc FALL FASHION NOVEL^^^ body, which is an additional advan- art tage to women who affect the wearing wL of the belt plf Qold and silver spangled belts are pit universally popular and are worn with ly. the more pretentious gowns. One wii seen in the shops is fashioned of silk of webbing and is thickly studded with gr< the metal disks. An attractive rhine- J stone buckle or one of imitation jewels fal closely resembling the real is the th< proper fastening. Buckles play no apj unimportant part in the disposition of of the belt and odd hooks are a feature, fea There seems to be an earnest effort ly on the part of Dame Fashion to revive th< the peasant girdle, and the various in- sec novations 6he is making are but step- th( nine stones in this direction. is | r?? With cheviot or wood fabrics of a in heavy order leather belts, either suede shi or kid, may be worn with propriety. th< For a silken bodice and crepon skirt choose a metal belt. If your dress is o: some soft material, which hangs in ] graceful changing folds, make yourself da: bewitching in a seven-inch girdle, of which cives you apparent length of cos limb and a svelte figure. Much in- ma dividuality may be expressed by the an young woman who pays attention to he: the minor details of capricious styles fac and whose fancy has opportunity for by display in collecting her belts for falJ pii wear. Fancy may run riot with her sty better judgment in this instance, but ' it is permissible. tei Belts are pretty, and, despite any an no tllA AYlvififtbilitV of ^UU(I1UTW0J vw .mv ?? y wearing them from a hygenic standpoint, are going to obtrude themselves upon us wherever opportunity is offered. They are becoming to most women, and for that reason alone they will assume the right of way. No young womon is in the swim unless she numbers three dozen belt buckles in her collection. Belts are more necessary now than ever before, for basques are an obsolete fashion, and all bodices terminate at the waist line, which fact makes the introduction oi'girdles imperative. All women i agree on the one point, that belts tend ( to make a stout women less emphatically so, and slender women like them because they realize the proportions 1 * ? 11 - ---- ~t ??..q I uetween lilt; Sl?.2 U1 tuc nmuu ana hips. HINTS IN MILLINERY. The Napoleonic craze is about ended and the Dutch bonnet is a thing of the past. The majority will be glad of this, for it was only the small mi* I nority who could becomingly wear aD I either. The principal tendency of ,*j I the new hats is toward higher crowns, and they vary in outline, to be designated as thj "'Pierrot," "jampot" and jr< "pottle" crowns. The first is point- y ed, the second flares, and the third widens from the crown to the brim. Re' The low crown and flat brim of the summer shape will not be entirely P'j abandoned either. Many of the new shapes show crowns of silk plush, with brims of braided *? ! effects or of felt, and in the new imported walking hats are seen "puttie" I crowns and wide, rolling brims made lei entirely of the silk plush, with a se- sa vere trimming of a flat crown-band, ; mi with loops and quills at the left side, wi Among bonnets, the Bhapee seem to somewhat larger than of late, and ?? i 'I MSIAN HAT WITH BOW OF CAE MINE ] 3ATIN III EBON AND BLACK AIGRETTE. i ] my show open crowns of wijeil jets ( 1 beads, or Oriental embroideries. r\r>A avtx olco monir Kflonfifnl tun-noa , CIO MO MiUW AUMUJ WMUV?<U? DW^UVWJ | ich never go oat of fashion. Bat all headgear the toque requires the ist careful handling, and only an 1 ik\ ' v NEW SEVEN-INCH BELT. ;iste can give it that certain touch iich keeps it above the commonice. Flowers must find no resting ice on the toque, and feathers rareThe trimming must be simple, th knots of ribbon or velvet, ropes grass and wisps of aigrettes, or ag? sssive looking quills. Few flowers are noticeable on the I models, but what there are take 3 form of poppies aDd roses, which pear in velvet silk, and the prettiest all which are made entirely of others. Then again, roses are closeimitated with taffeta silk, cut on 3 bias with rolled edges. Lace is a sondary factor with new hats. In 3 way of ornaments the preference given to cut steel, while jet comes second. Fancy feathers of all ipes and colors predominate, yet i ostrich tip wili ever hold its own. A SMART AUTUMN COSTUME.' Lincoln-green Amazon cloth, with a rkish plaid silk, with bright touches color, composes the smart autumn stume here shown. The dress is re irkably pretty and most stylish as indoor toilet, and the effect may be ightened by an eight or tea inch ling of the plaid, inside the skirt or a little balayeuse of the plaid, iked out at the edges and pat in ghtly full. The skirt is cut from a fluted pat n, which is not excessive in width, d yet gives a very fall appearance, AN AUTUMN COSTUME. cl hns no uarts rouna tue u>p, aiongh it fits perfectly to the figure, le bodice is mute ou ft fitted lining, t in four parts only, viz., the two jnts, each with two darts, and the ] o backs, necessitating a seam down e centre. This centre back seam is nwed and boned, and the top faced just below the bust line with the aid, and the front darts are also wn and whalebone inserted, and ey are then faced with plaid, ready r the plain material. Balfonr, the British Parliamentary ider, who is an enthusiastic golfer ys : "Care may sit behind the horse* nn; she never presumes to walk th the cftddie." greatest babe living. [Jnique Dally Lire of the Infant Efelr to Great Britain's Throne. The greateBt baby in the world is aow about one year old. The name if this baby is Edward. He is Hip Royal Highness the Prince Edward of fork, heir to the throne of an empire in which the snn never sets, and he is low cutting hie teeth. His Royal Highuess lives either at fork House, St. James, London, or at tVhite Lodge, seat of the Tecks. A lescription of his personal appearance s now on file in the royal archives of he Tower of London, and he has been photographed 109 times. These devils are not trifles. They are a part >f the history of the British Empire. The Prince has bine eyes. His hair ,s not scanty by any means, and he is rather fat, as will be seen from the acjompanying pictnre of him, whioh is the' one hnndred and ninth of His Royal Highness, and the very latest. He has a nnrsery of the most severely plain character, and, althongh his little life is ono long uninterrupted ceremony, etiquette requires that the plainest of baby accessories shall snrround him. He is under the tutelage Df one Mme. Bnika, whom all England knows &i the confidential companion of the Princess" May before her marriage. This Mile. Buika has naturally an enormous responsibility. His Boyal Highness is already a General, a Colonel, a High Sheriff and i patron. He is a Keeper of the Seals and an Imperial Usher. He is already antitled to put Q. C. M. J., C. C. L S. [. and ever so many other letters after bis name, and he is *a member of the House of Lords. When the baby awakes in the morning he holds a levee. The royal code says so.* His Highness will be attended by the lady in waiting, who takes his commands. This means that she will wash and dress him. He must never have anything on him that is red?anything, that is, in the shape of clothing. His attire mast be invariably white. This is because he is a Prince of York, and there is a royal rule connected with the Wars of the Hoses that forbids his assumption of the red nntil he is five years old. He may not wear black shoes until he is three, and in public a sash must inwaTi'ohiir Vio nmnnd hifl waist. Under I no circumstances is he to be addressed, even playfully, by anyone except hie parents. Queen Victoria herself is not at liberty to say "yon" to him. It I must always be "His Highness seems well," or "His Highness sleeps." In fact, it is His Highness this and His Highness that all the time. Only a blood relative may hold him | in her arms, with the exception of Mile. Baika, who has received a royal patent for the purpose. Even the physician who attends him must receive a royal patent before beginning to physic this babe. Every artiole of attire he wears must bear the royal arms worked by hand in silk, and He may not wear the same article twioe in succession. It must be washed before it goes on again. His Highness travels by special train. He has six equerries and a gentleman usher of the black rod. He receives invitations to all royal and state func- 1 PBINCE EDWABD OF TOBK, AGED ONE YEAB. tione, and is always represented at them by one of these equerries. On ntate occasions the Prince is arrayed in cloth of gold. His head is covered by a crown of starched and gilded linen. He is then carried by a royal lady in waiting. That means that whoever carries this babe must have royal blood in her vei.ns. Another curious thing about the Prince i3 that no more than four per sons may be in his nursery at any one time. nri .Mirul in rnva] robes the w tieu uc jo aviuiu ? peers must kneel to kiss his Land on entering his presence. Of course no hats may be worn in his presence. In York House Mrs. Gladstone had to take her bonnet off before entering his nursery. When H. R. H. is asleep a flag floats from his residence. When he is awake tne flag is tuken down. When he leaves his home the flag is hung out of the window of his nursery. Another unexpected thing in the life of the Prince is the extreme, publicity of it. He is perpetually being photographed, and tne photographs are thrown broadcast all ov?.r Euglaad. Wheuever he goes the fact of his coming is proclaimed. Lots of people congregate about his two homes - .1 AfarJo. to get a glimpse or mm ;?uu moiselle Buika carries him out in lier arms to the coach in the most public manner. This liberality and publicity are in accordance with the timehonored custom of the British royal family to bo as free with the people us possible. Belligerent Female S;?ider, Tfce female spider is always larger than the male, and, if accounts be true, is of a rather peppery disposition. When the husband becomes obstinate and will not obey orders, the loving wife eat6 him up lo get rid of I him, and 6eeks a more obedient spouse.?Philadelphia Record. Switzerland, with a population vi' 3,000,000, averages 650 suicides annually. Only Denmark and SusOny make a more extensive use of wbut ie supposed v. l>e the right to die. j J J i / i vv- mwm* WOBDS OP W1SD0X, Success excuses means. No legacy is so rich as honesty. Dress is the table of your contents.1 By searching the old learn the new*1 A pretty woman never forgets her- 5 v self. , VM* The wounds made by a friend never ' i heal. ..,3 All the gestures of children are j graceful. We are often able because we think we are able. No woman cares to know why she loves a man. The truest self-respect is not to think of self. Creditors have better memories . '<j than debtors. - .s No one expects that his grave will ^ be neglected. No man can have a good head and s Ml badstomach. > When the heart speaks glory itself -ujSj is an illusion. Laws that we dislike we should nevertheless obey. Regret is vain unless it teaches to ' avoid cause for it. He that does good to another does , -A good also to himself. There is a good deal in becoming discouraged in time. There is even a happiness that makes the heart afraid. A good man will hate a lie, no matter how white it looks. A man abuses his stomach mora fx than he does his enemies. $ Dreams of wealth don't come true as often as work for it does. A wife loves a new bonnet quite as . well as a husband loves a good dinner. 3 Qood intentions never die?which may be one reason why they are so . /-M | seldom carried out. When you hear a man talking about <3 having the best wife on earth, it is ? 'Jj good time to watoh how he treats her. 3sg The Oregon Dentist. "When I was traveling through Southern Oregon last month," said Attorney W. W. MoNair, "X found - 'W mj self in a small village and with a . large toothache. I found the local dentist, with his whirligig engine that vj resembled a small lathe, at the' livery J$J stable clipping a horse. ' 'Do yon treat teeth?' I asked. . 'gffl '"Course; what do you suppose I'm here for ?' he replied in a nettled - ^ "'Well,! have one that needs at- ;'j tention.' j "'Want it pulled or plugged?'he " 'I want it treated. How do you treat teeth that are aching?' "'Pull it er plug it' . " 'I think this could be saved if it J had proper treatment' * "'Want it plugged, then. What is . $} it?jaw tooth or knawer?' and he tried to-force a finger that was covered with dirt and horse hair into my mouth. .;?|1 I had grown a trifle suspicions of him, ' ?* so I thought I would find out what jd eort of work he did. /Jj " "Do you do bridge work?' I ; asked. " 'Not since I been praoticin*. I did build a bridge across Cow Creek 1 when I was ranchin', but I mostly coafine myself to draggin' fangs, doctor- ^ in' horses, and barberin'.' "JL/U JUU CYCi uauoj/iouv ivuvu +Z39 " 'Say, I tried that onct, but she J didn't work. 01' Bill Bobi'son had a tooth that was aohin' an' he wanted it prilled. 1 got the wrong tooth. > I M tried to put her back, but Bill hoi- jB lered an' cut up so that I thought I'd ' |fl try to transplant it. I sawed off the snags and riveted it to Bill's plate o* I \! falee teeth, but she wouldn't work. :j The first time Bill bit a bone with it the tooth swung around on the rivet ] an' he bit a hole in the roof of his 1 mouth as big as a hazei nut.' ''^3 "I concluded not to have my tooth 1 treated. The dentist was sorry, and 1 told me that 'if it was holler to heat a J knittin' needle hot an' poke it in the V tooth, or hold a chaw o' terbacker in 1 my mouth.' "?San Francisco Post, < .J X Remarkable Toad. . 'J j In Surinam there is a remarkable loadlike creature, the female of whicb carries her young in a series of cells in the thick skin of the back, which ; assumes a strange honey-comblike ap- % | pearance. When this lady toad is car- ^ rying her nursery about with her, she is a very repulsive looking object. Single handed she would be quite unable to cope with the important question of placing'eggs where they will .-/j. be most favorably disposed for hatoh- ! ing, and for this she has to rely on tho good services |of h?r mate. Soon after the eggs are laid they are taken ; up by the male and pressed, one by 1 one, into the cells in the thickened skin of his partner's back. There they grow until they fit cldsely to the hexagonal form of their prisons, each of which is closed above by a kind of trap door. v?j| After a period of some eighty-tiro 1- i. days tue eggs reaeu men iu?i uciuopraent and produce, not tadpoles, but actually perfect little toads. The reason of this is that the tadpoles, which require to breathe the air dissolved in the water by means of their external gills, could not exist in the cells, aud consequently this stage of development is passed through very rapidly within the egg. In due time the young toads to the number oi eighty or 100 burst open the lids of their cells, poke out their noses and make their entrance into the world, jf The mother toad rubs off the remains of the cells against any convenient " stone or plant stem and comes out in a brand new spring suit.?Knowledge. A Pitiful Case. AtTopeka, Kan., a few days ago a : V3 man buried bis dead child in the back M yard and wa6 arrested for the offense. | The preliminary trial developed the f i fact that the father was unable to find employment, and that when the child < died tb<3 family was starving and the a. entire, housahold possessed but forty cQi.1;8. The court decided that no crime had been committed and the body was removed to a cemetery. The Poor Commissioner furnished tne family with a small quantity of provisions until the heart-broken father could find work.--Journal of the Knights of Labor.