Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

THE ICE OF j iWhite, immaculate, storr.i* Lonely sea beyond seaa. Prom the ice of your farthi Re-echoes your challcr&e They have sought vou wiil In despair they tiavc sen .And for answer?the crash The shiver and silence ol You have wooed them, aro You have prisoned them You have drawn them, bet And their bones lia a-ble Is your diadem, gemmed w Irom those far-flaming fi But the sign of a Tyrant w Overthrow and destroy a Oh! imperious, pitiless regi Snow-panoplied hills thai Are those silent impassabh But guarding a bosom of Or is it the radiant duty Of your rapturous heart < That crimsons with curren The dark span of your de Through the long voiceless Your virginal, slumberini Do you dream of the sunlij For the voice of the sout! Oh! mysteries never beholc By the ages, we questior For the ultimate answer w In the mist-woven mantl. By your star-vestured beau Iii the wake of your moo By your perilous silence tin \Ye follow the call of the ?Margaret f Tuie Old Si > I Ey DAVI n. ? ;No one would have thought, looking at his benign face, or listening to 'i; * the calm and measured tones of his voice, that the wind of tragedy had .' ' once swept across the old schoolmas' ter's life. When the beginning actually was, nobody seemed exactly to know. The place without the old schoolmaster v... ' would have been inadequate, incom/ plete; in fact, altogether inconceivable. , f, . . .. Those who had been his contempor... aries had died out one by one. and the only one who remembered the .coming of the schoolmaster in t^e far back days was Captain Drew oi the White House, where he had lived vw * for seven and fifty years. The schoolmaster had arrived in ? ? winter, dropping down suddenly from nowhere, a tall, slender, dark-eyed man, with youth in his step, but experience and sadness on his face. It was long before the advent of the School Board, in the days when education was for the few, and not for the many. The'Loaning was glad to welcome the pale-faced stranger, when it was discovered that he had store of knowledge-classical knowl edge, too, which he was willing to impart at a modest fee. These were the davs when sreat men were cradled in village homes, and trained in unpretentious schools 'by men who loved learning for its 'iown sake, and imparted that love to ' 'others with thoroughness and care. There was no standard then save i love alone, and the few for whom . books had the immortal message went ' 'out when the time came to deliver that message to the world with all the power that was in them. Of such men, whose names are now upon the roll of history and of fame, the old schoolmaster had trained not A few. His pride in the gallant boys who . passed through his hands was only equalled by their affection for him. Indeed, he had a singular power of winning hearts, and many wondered bow it was that one so gentle and yet so strong, so 'fitted in every way for the making of a home, should have elected to walk solitary through life. The school was a broad, low building of the black whinstone peculiar to the neighborhood. It stood in an j ample playground in which a few sparse trees that had survived the hard usage of many generations of Loaning boys made some slight shade in summer, and broke the force of the moorland gale in winter. The schoolhouse was hard by, a small, low, picturesque, though highly inconvenient dwelling, embowered among green, its outside a picture at which many paused to look. Here the old schoolmaster had lived for nearly forty years, ministered unto for three parts of that time by one Christina Fellows, a capable serving woman of the better sort, who alternately mothered and ruled him and hoped to ciose his eyes in death. Christina had a hard face and did not wear her heart on her sleeve; but she had had her tragedy, too, and had peritably been a brand plucked from the burning by the schoolmaster's beneficent hand. Accused of theft in her previous place she had been set adrift and might have gone under had not the schoolmaster taken her, without a character, when the hand of every man and every woman in the parish was against her, and she had literally not a pls.ce wherein to lay her head. She had repaid that Christ-like act with a life-long devotion, but even Christina knew very little of her master's inner life. ! "Gie him buiks," she would say; "he's a terrible man for buiks. If il ||jjj wasna lor me ne waa reaa nissei iniu gj| his grave." BES The School Board and all its newfangled ways, which in fulness ol jH^^tiiEe robbed the old schoolmaster ol H^^fthis official position and placed hirr |g| on the retired list, was the main obH| ject of Christina's hatred and conP|| tempt. It was noticeable that froir wS the day when the schoolmaster gavt g||j up his active duties to another and ; |gi younger man he perceptibly declinec MM both in health and in spirits. Hap ?91? * r.?i liim 4A m. Lpuy ior uiiu mcj suuucu linn i *> main in the little house, which die not meet modern requirements 01 satisfy the aspirations of the nevi schoolmaster, who wished everything up to date. This was a very happj thing for the old man. Dig up th< old tree, root and branch, and then Is small chance of its safe or success' ful transplantation. THE NORTH, beaten benches, 3 beyond ken, ermost reaches, ' a to men! , d l worship and wonder; t t forth their breath? _ ] of your thunder, : deato! s used them, and quelled them, t fast in your floes. _ raved and repelled them, acn on your snows. . ? s 'ith star-flowers ' ^ elds of the sky, hose powers A nd defy ? s ons? t entice? h i legious ^ ice? a t jf delight t t of beauty solate night? twilights that darken a z plain, ^ht, and harken b iiwind again ? y ten ^ i and wait ithholden h s of Fate. t ity still haunted, ns, we set forth? 11 daunted, a North! t r Ridgely Partridge, in Harper's Magazine. ^ t E jhoolmaster. ! t F ID LYALL. | | ^ The old schoolmaster and Chris- c tina dwelt together in their green ? bower with a perfect understanding, ? though in all these years the veil was never once lifted from the old man's heart and life. a At the very last, It seemed as if r fate had relented and determined to make late amends. It happened on a h bleak day in winter when the lower- t ing sky seemed to breathe out threat- 13 enings, while the scudding snowflakes presaged the coming storm. ^ The Loaning moorland was very s bleak on such a day, and the few pas- >' sengers in the village omnibus, which plied from the station in the afternoon, were glad of the shelter of the n old leather cover, kept for hard s; < : iyioder; ~~ L c E may grasp virtu jLlidl V*C*011S' H we embr t00 violent a desir* J "A man may be both too mu ? excessive in a just action. I ha's dice the opinion men had of hii J be devout beyond all examples ? I love temperate ?nd moderate zeal, even to that which is gooc does astound. "Those who attempt to reg theology and philosophy, will h J There is no action so private tha and jurisdiction. They are best censure and curb their own libc T "There is no just and lawfi + temperance and excess is not to the truth, is not man a misera J is scarce, while in hi? natural + the power to taste one pleasure man must be contriving doctr: ? the little he has; he is not yet + arts and study, he augments Seigneur De Montaigne. < weather. There were three passen- f< gers only, one an elderly lady, richly o though very quietly dressed, and wearing a thick veil over her face. t< When she lifted it at the inn door a to put a question to the landlord v there was a haunting sweetness in her tl expression, and a dignity in her hear- b ing which instantly commanded at- h tention and respect. s< She asked for a room, and for some b light refreshment, and gave her name tl as Mrs. Grantley. About an hour g later she walked through the falling snow along the village street in the ij direction of the school, and turned in n at the sratewav of the old schoolmas- s ter's house. The daylight was fading n as she lifted the latch of the wicket h gate, and at the very moment Chris- C tina Fellows happened to be at the a sitting-room window, for the purpose c of drawing the blind after having lit o the cheerful lamp. b "There's somebody at the yett," a she said curiously. "A leddy, an' I r dinna ken her. She must hae made a mistake." s The schoolmaster, deep in his book. ^ returned an absent answer, and Christina hastened to the door to interview the stranger, and, if need .s be, put her in the right way. f "Yes, Maister Thornton lives here, t an' he is at hame," she said in no S little surprise. "Will ye step in?" The invitation was not very gra- s 1 eiously given, but was instantly accepted. Christina preceded the vis- o itor to the sitting room door, which 1 she flung open. t "Somebody to see ye. sir," she said c ; excitedly; then, her curiosity getting ^ the better of her good manners, she stood still to watch the effect, and if . possible get a clue to the stranger's business. The schoolmaster rose quickly to his feet, and came forward smiling ; benignly, blinking a little as the . I lamplight shone full on the eyes from which he had removed the reading ^ glasses. Then Christina Fellows be- ? j held a strange thing, from which she shrank with the secret shame of a * strong, reserved nature incapable of any emotional display. t The strange lady, with her veil f 1 ' ? Art 1 ] j inromu UclL'ft am; Utl & v;cI nat aj? j ; aglow, spoke the schoolmaster's name t i innocents of tenderness, and laid her s 1 two hands on his shoulders. c "I've come at the long last, Tom," ? . she said. "Thank God, it is not too , I late." a p Then Christina, in a "mortal panic, i r not over sure that she had heard or c ; seen aright, closed the door in haste, r r and retired wringing her hands to ( i her own domain. "Mercy me, Sic on- c i gauns! I wonder wha she is! It's j . hardly decent, but I maun wait or I > , see.". . i -v She felt, however, as if the end ol .11 things had come. The schoolmaster's face flushed, nd he took the hands from his shoul!er and held them close, then stooped o kiss them, and she drew herself a ittle away. "I know everything, Tom," she aid nodding and smiling, too, I dei hough her voice naa an unsteauy lote. "I have known it only three lays. In that time I have traveled even hundred miles, praying God ca' hat when I came to the journey's end fta should find you able to hear me i peak." I by i (IV "It is wonderful, Mary, wonderful," ie said, speaking like a man in a ream. "I never thought that you ' nd I should meet in this world, hough I have long been certain about wj. he next." . She made a gesture of fine scorn. ^y "I know of the lies that parted us, nd of the noble part you played to Be? ave the good name of a man whom tei ou thought I loved. He won me by r hese lies, Tom, and you bore the <ja runt. He was not even honest in lis death," she said, and her voice an ook a tense note of scorn. "If he ad been I should have found you ho ong ago, and so we might have had . few more years together. It was a Jhrist-like act. You practically laid ^v own your life, not for your friend, tjj( iut for your enemy." 0f "Nay my dear," said the old schoolnacfor miiciriv. "it was done for ou." "Well, but it was not wise nor well lone for any of us, for I have had a lard life. But, please God, we shall lave a few days of happiness and leace together; for since I find you an lone in this little house I will never ;o away again." She spoke like a woman who had I *s ounted the whole cost, and whose uest was ended absolutely. She laid frc er gloves on the table, untied her ab onnet-strings, and pushed it, with a ittle thrill of laughter, to the floor, ^a nd the lamplight on her bright hair evealed not a trace of gray. , "You have kept your youth, Mary," to e said, tremblingly, for in a moment he gulf of the years was not only i j ridged, but utterly swept away. Look at me, a broken old man!' ret, if it pleases God to give me the 011 weet of your friendship for the few wa ears that are left, I will give Him hanks." mc She only smiled again with a deep, lysterious sweetness in her eyes, and wi at down by the hearth as if she had he * Jy VTION. : ? xm e so hard, till it becomes J; ! j0T ace it too straight, and with o ch in love with virtue and be <? re known a great man preju- < wt 3 devotion, by pretending to i thi of others of his condition. ? natures. And immoderate ? I, though it does not offend, i Z' ;ulate the manners of men, * ave a saying on everything. ^ tu< it can escape their inspection jja taught who are best able to jrty. o ill pleasure, wherein the in- ?> or be condemned; but to speak .ble creature the while? It ? condition, for him to have . i, pure and entire; and yet, ine and precepts to curtail wretched enough unless by ^ai his own misery."?Michael ? cai ? ne hii Dund the place that was her very I wn. Later in the evening an interview aok place between the stranger lady nd Christina Fellows, an interview of rhich not only appeased the ire of f0i aat somewhat hard-visaged spinster, jnj ut spread out a new vista before 0r er bewildered eyes, a message was ent to the Haws Inn, and the lady's jnj elonglngs were forthwith brought to ja: tie schoolhouse, and the new era be- de* an. Da It made a great talk in the Loan3g, it being freely rumored that a 0f lysterious rich relation had suddenly j pu wooped down upon the old school- | t.h< laster and was desirous of carrying i an im off to her castle in the south. | Me Ihristina, for her own amusement, I nd to add to the dignity of the oc- I te! asion, assiduously fanned the flame ' loi f village gossip, adding a few tit- I Sjg i + ? a# Vts-sM Anm rr\ onnfootnra fr* fha I ..: its Ul HCi wnu 1UUUU1UV.I.VI.U WW VYi; stounding. sum of the schoolhouse omance. pa But all Loaning imaginings fell far yo hort of the actual end of the story, jn rhich presently shook the place to th< ts very foundations. , SU! One fine February morning the mt choolmaster and his guest departed c]a rom the Loaning, being accompanied o the station by Christina, who bade ch ;ood-bye to them in tears. [ 0f Two days later this announcement be et the county by the ears. wt "At Edinburgh, by special license, be; n the 10th inst., Thomas Bradbury thi 'hornton, to Mary Caxton, widow of SD( he late Sir Charles Grantley, of Jarth Castle, Pembroke." ? British Veekly. ga Is Dangerous as Nosing About Stills. Some years ago a Chicago doctor lad a lot of walking cases of conumptives, and wanted to make sure hey got pure butter. So he sent Tip nto the butter cellars there to look f or information. After going into m( wo or three in the same block and isking to see. smell and taste, Tip be- . j ;an to think the butter merchants | m, vere acting queerly, and about that j ime a young fellow came up in but- j j. er and egg garb and said, "Say, i uq ricnd, you was just back in the boss* j ilace looking for butter. Now I can j ell from your talk you're from the | j^e same place as I am, but this bunch I qc lown here takes every stranger for a I spying inspector. Let me give it to I ***** ntroio-Kf r-nminc rinxxrn horc* n n fl I \J U ouaib'^l VUUJUi;, UW..M ?.V. V v. sking questions about butter is about is dangerous as nosing about stills mj lown in the mountains. It's this way. chi rhey're all selling fake butter, law ra" )r no law, and if any of them get :aught at it the Butterine Trust pays ill fines and expenses. And a man mi vho beats up a spy gets well paid for mc t."?New York Press, bii OUSE DESIGNED BY .K CHRISTOPHER WREN Famous Mansion in Belfast Suffers Damage by Fire, Losing an Ell. Since the fire a few days ago, whict stroyed the ell or back wing ol! the Iward Sibley residence, at Belfast 2 attention of the public has beer lied to this grand old mansior inding back from High street, witl wide spreading lawns surrounded fine old trees, says the Kennebec re.) Journal. It is known to but few, however it this structure was designed b) ne other than Sir Christophei ren, the famous English architect to also designed St. Paul's Cathe^ al. The mansion was built in 1842 the late Judge Joseph Williamson Augusta. It came into the pos^ jsion of Timothy Thorndike, Quar master in the Twenty-sixth Maine igiment, in 1873, and later to hii ughter, Mrs. Edward Sibley. The house is handsomely furnished d is frequently the scene of societj airs, Mrs. Sibley being a charming stess and entertaining royally. The main house stands practical^ ;act, although somewhat d.amagec smoke and water. It is one o1 ? show places of the city and on< which all are very proud. WORDS OP WISDOM. Reform is always headed fo:.* reacn. It isn't safe to make love, even t( engaged girl, for she can break ii A man's idea of indulging his wif< if she will spoil him. The longer a man can stay awaj >m his family the more he can li< out how he misses them. If there were no telling of lies we'c ve to disbelieve the truth. A man starts out expecting to ge h and ends up thinking he is luckj keep out of the poor house. >r One good deed can deserve anothei ong time without getting it. The more money a man will spenc flowers for his wife the less he wil .nt to spend on necessaries for her. A woman can forgive her husbanc >st anything if nobody else will. A girl is awful smart to be crosi th a man so as to make him thinl is the one. The danger to a girl of being pret is she thinks she's prettier. The reason a man bets is so h< a brag if he wins and forget t( rntion it if he loses. The good investment is for the fel v who lets you have it for some o! ur money. A woman spends her money foi .of c)io wants! a man for what h( inks he wants. A little cold nerve will get a man i ;ger reputation for ability than i ad full of brains. Money doesn't give a person vir ss, but it makes people act as if h< d them all. A man might be able to spend som< his own money on himself if h< d no family. The kind of popularity a man buyi spending money on people h? uldn't sell for one cent on the dol A woman is an exceptionally gooc i'd player when she deals her part r a poor hand and doesn't blam< ii for it.?From "Reflections of i ohelor," in the New York Press. Japanese Floral Calendar. The Japanese are extremely fonc all flowers, and they have there e made a calendar from them, giv ; to each month a favorite blosson leaf. Thus the pine, the emblem of last I prosperity and life, belongs tc pi 11 arv Tto hrnnrhAS are used tc corate all houses on New Year's y. To February belong the blossoms the plum tree, which stand foi rity, and the beautiful blossoms 01 2 peach tree, to which young girls 2 compared, are associated witt irch. Next the cherry blossom, the mosi loved of all flowers, is held to be lg to April, and to May are as ;ned the gorgeous clusters of th( staria. The iris flower, to which is conv red the strength and beauty ol ung boys, belongs to June, anc ly has the glory and perfume ol 2 water lily. The flowering hibis 3 tree attaches its beauty to th( )nth of August, while Septetnbei .ims the exquisite azalea. The royal flower of Japan, th< rvcnnthprrmiri. which forms a nan the crest of the imperial family longs to the month of October tile to November is associated th< autiful camelia, which blooms ii 5 gardens even in the mi 1st o: dw.?From the Housekeeper. A Comet's Tail. The tail of a comet is composed o s, existing in a highly rarefied ion ;ion. Little particles of electrbnt] lied corpuscles, or ions, are be>nj stantly given off ut enormo if sed by the sun. Each meteorite ir 2 comet's head is surrounded by it: rn rarefied atmosphere. When one these little ions strikes one of the jlccules of gas in the comet's at )5phere, it carries it off with it tc m the tail. The electrical charge ikes the gas luminous, and i: is b} is light, and net by reflected sun^ ht, that the tail is made visible tc A comet's tail, therefore, seem: be merely a very extended aurora Frnm William H. Pickering's "The iturn of Halley's Comet," in t'a< ntury. Nora's Nerve. Mistress (in awed voice)?"Nora r husband is just raving over those ops you sent up. He says they are >v, and ho is acting like a wild in-" \ The Cook (placidly)?"Thin shure ltn, if he is acting like a woild >n, raw meat is just the food loi n."^Cleveland Leader. I : J&TJZIms. i New York City.?Simple as this i frock is, it can be made in a numbei i of ways. In the illustration is shown 1 one of the new ginghams piped with : striped material, and the dress is m&de unlined, worn with an oper . neck and short sleeves. There Is a body lining Included, however, which :an be made in one with the gown or quite separately, and used as a guimpe, and when treated in this w,iy it can be worn or omitted as occasion requires. When the dress is made unlined as illustrated, it is especially ! > well adapted to washable materials { and there are numberless charming and attractive ones included in the 5 new output. When the lining is used I it becomes adapted to wool fabrics of a simple sort. It can be made with short or long or with double sleeves, [ Just as illustrated, however, It is pari ticularly desirable, for it can be worn f without the guimpe on a warm day, WHO 11 ou a cuiu uj-kj. The dross consists of waist and skirt, which are joined by means of a belt. The waist is finished with an ' oddly shaped revers-collar and in" eludes simple plain sleeves that are r open for a portion of their length to ' allow effective use of trimming. The 5 guimpe is a plain one with long, plain 1 sleeves. It is finished with a standing 3 collar. The quantity of material required J for the ten-year size is five and three* eighth yards twenty-four or twenty} seven, four and a quarter yards thirJ ty-two or three and a quarter yards 7 forty-four inches wide for the dress; ' one yard thirty-six inches wide for } the guimpe. 3 > Fringe on HntP. i Fringe?narrow silk fringe?is used to edge a new straw hat, and very softening is it to the face. The bows of ribbon, which are the sole trimming, are also edged with the | same narrow fringe. [ Tan in VTogne. Tan footwear ispromised tnc great, est vogue that it has ever had, and it 1 will, of course, come in some start ling new shades, all the way from champagne to ochre. 1 Derby Silk. > One of the new silks, quite similar 1 in appearance to the popular rajah 1 is called derby silk. It is silk and 1 cotton mixed. Waistcoats. The waistcoat, which never fails to achieve a large measure of popularity, has gained a revival. In its latest guise it hangs weli away from the figure. 1Waists to Match. It is noticeable among well-dressed women that the waists either match the skirt exactly or at least blend with it. Drapery a Feature. Drapery is still a commanding fea ture. It is quite the thing to wear something loose, that may be called a wrap, though it is more an evolution of the scarf. Suede Waistbands. One of the newest fashions in waistbands, for morning wear, is of softest suede or kid, fastened with a buttonhole and large, flat button. New Styles. Curious as it may seem, the predominating influence at work among the new styles are those borrowed from the fashion of the 1870's and '80's. Monograms For Street Gloves. A new fad has crept in with the girls who can be sensible, that Is to a certain degree, where fashions are concerned. These young women, who don't believe that jeweled bracelets will keep their wearers warm or their hands a lovely ivory \yhite, unreddened by the cold, have ceased to remain elbow-sleeved girls any longer, and are making up by wearing mono* grams on their heavy street gloves. The letters are of silver, and, having a substantial little pin attached, can be transferred to different gloves. i A "smoke-blue" broadcloth suit ; has a natty little coat that Is a clever modification of the Russian tendency. The skirt and waist are in one piece.^ Stomach braid and seTT-covered buttons form the trimming, while the yoke is of "sjA)ke-blue" dotted m H i It is estimated that there are 300,* 000 inhabitants of the polar regions* one person to each ten miles of area. I For headache, bathing behind thd ears with hot water often proves of immense benefit, , There are 270 active volcanoes 14 i the world, many of them being com* 1 paratively small. Italy has more theatres In proportion to papulation than any othefl country. fv; Dean Swift would have been called a "muck-raker" had he lived to-day? Hia "Drapler Letters" forced change In the Irish currency. fi *1 The Hungarians have a proverb, "King Matthias Is dead," whichi means that justice is no longer done. Matthias, son of Hun?adi,i; was a model king, who ruled from 1458 tdi 1490. 4 The Passion Play at Oberammer*gau dates back to the twelfth cen? tury. It was made permanent li^ the sixteenth, when eighty per cent,' of the town's population died of the plague. The survivors made a vow if the plague were stayed to perform the play every ten years. Dr. Carl Webber, still practicing In New York City, performed In the first operation for appendicitis. [. . At this time last year the steel car builders had orders for 60,000 cars. This year orders have amount^ ed to 180,000. ^ In proportion to Its populationmore people earn a livelihood by sea} faring in Norv/ay than in any othetf country. Britain comes next. i ' When Peter the Great visited Eng^ j land he went to see Evelyn at thq1 I latter's home in Surrey. In hty | honor Evelyn cut a new road for th? i monarch through the forest. f Edgar Allan Poe was the first mat* to formulate the rules and theory of : the short story. ' i .V I Farquahar, the dramatist, was the son of a clergyman. When he was expelled from Trinity College, Dub< . lin, he became an actor and soon de< voted himself with success to writing plays. The modern collar known as thd Piccadilly is supposed to be named after the London street of that titled The street, in turn, was named, it 14 said, from the turn-down collar wori| in the time of James I., called "pic* cadillies." ' :--v> * jj One of the strangest libraries ii< the world was that of the late Mad4 I ame Kaessavow, of St. Petersburg, | it consisted of 18,000 volumes, all bjl women. ' J ? r 1 Among the clocks of Versailles Jq one of great interest Historically, iu? it belonged to Marie Antoinette, tha hapless consort of Louis XVI. It 14 a musical clock. . ^ < Many African tribes count snak^ flesh among tht> delicacies,- and Jobn, Ward says that with the Australian natives "a dish of snakes is a much esteemed luxury." ^ The practice of cutting the claw? 4 of the more ferocious animals of the London Zoological Gardens has re-i cently been greatly facilitated b? chloroforming the animals. ? I Of coffee the United States is the ??-!/> ? ix.iuof (inrnnmor fiprmanVi WUT1U O iaig^av vwmwwmv. | ? w Netherlands, France, Belgium and Austria-Hungary being next in the order named. Of tea the United Kingdom is the world's largest conV sumer, Russia being second in rank/ the United States third, and Australia and Canada also Important consume ers. An Artist's Criticism. Falguiere, the scluptor, tells a cap* ital story of Henner, the great artist, who, although he lived in Paris all his life, never lost his Alsatian peasant accent or his country manners. But Henner was a very keen critic and had a clever way of showing his dislike of wordy enthusiasm. Fal< guiere, whose talent as a sculptor known all the world over, was vefy fond of painting, but he did not paint "f particularly well. One day Henner 1 w? in his studio, and Falguiere showed him some of his pictures. I <<ntViinlr nf this One?" W 11 aL uu JV/U asked Falguiere. "Suberp!" said Henner, with his Alsatian accent. "Marfelous!" "And this one?" "Broditchous!" "And this one?" I "Suplime!" . ' Then the old man picked up a little bust which his friend had just finfinished: "Ah!" he said. "Now, dat's | good!" I j "I never painted alter that," Falguiere used to say.?M. A. P. Some Big Corn. Ears of corn measuring twelve Inches in length were grown this year on the farm of Dr. T. J. Dodson, four miles east of Manguni, Okla. One of these ears contained 998 grains. Maize grown on this farm was the . I largest ever produced in the country, ' : ?Rrpeders' Snccial. ! \ I , ' i I Spoiled a Story. I Tattered Terry?"I'm a newspaper (nan, but I can't get a job." i Lady of the House?"Indeed! Why; iiot?" Tattered Terry?"Yer see, I saved a train from a terrible accident once, ahd all de editors have been aors on we ever since.":?Puck. A