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 Abbeville Press and Banner. PUBLISHED WEEKLY ? AT ? ABBEVILLE, S. C. "There isn't much difference, to the Philadelphia Record, between family 3ars and the vials of wrath. ' The man who lives altogether for bimself, muses Ram's Horn, couldn't do anything that would pay less on the dollar. i A Boston woman is going on the Btage to get rid of the blues. By .passing them on to the audience, probably, sneers the New York American. The Philadelphia Press says: Two Chinamen were arrested in Mott street, New York City, for fighting with their fists. Even those who decry all forms of pugilism must be gratified by this notable sign of improvement in the manner of conducting a "tong war." It is not only an intellectual but rather a religious and emotional idea. It appears first in men like St. Francis with a prophetic sense of a nobler state of being. From them it is communicated by the beauty of their example rather than by argument, to other men; and perhaps when it has become a matter of course in all civilized human beings we shall find that it is of practical valur> and it will attain to a scientific justification. The president of the Carlisle Indian school, writing in the Red Man, calls attention to the fine record of graduates of this institution. He says that of 570 graduates more than half are earning their living "in competition with whites away from the reservation, and have forever been eliminated from any so-called Indian problem." Carlisle is an industrial school and Its way of solvingthe Indian prob?lem is admirable. The trained red man is pretty likely to be a good citizen. Rudolph Spreckels, of San Fran. cisco, says that he intends to devote the rest of his life to a "movement to restore the purity of American politics and American business." He thinks that both politics and business here are in a bad way, and he expects t to have a hand in forming a nationwide association of reformers. "The organization is under way," he says. "Men of the same mind who have been fighting the thieves all over the country are drawing together. In September we will be ready to announce the personnel of the army that we intend shall clean up the politics of this country." If we have any belief at all In a 'difference of moral faculty between ourselves and the animals we must recognize that we are, so far as our , powers over nature will permit, overseers of other forms of life upon the earth, not merely for our own advantage, hut for the good of the universe, philosophises the London Times. We cannot deny that the struggle for life exists and that we must take part in it and do our best to destroy those forms of life which are hostile to ourselves. We cannot go so far in respect for life as to found a society for the prevention of cruelty to bacilli. But at the same time our respect for life is a sign of our triumph, however imperfect, over the struggle for life; and the greater this respect becomes the more we are nr>or? <innc(>i(Mie nf tho nrnmi<5<s nnrl si?r WUWU1WUW V* V?V ? -CT nificsnce of all life and the lcso we are beasts involved in the blind waste of nature. Very slowly and Imperfectly this sense of the promise and significance of all life grows in The character of the modern newspaper is one of the signs, and also one of the factors, of this the dominant quality of our time. A celebrated case, or a great crime which Is brought to the attention of hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions cf people, may have a decided influence for good, contends the New York Press. The very fact that so many people talk it over at the same time has great social significance. People get together over their newspaper and think and discuss the social and ethical nature of events of human TV?fl / ! iic*eionf ILUpUl laxiVC, i ug niuw v?a celebrated case brings the people more closely together in judgment and in forms of morality and taste. It has the value of the forum. It is an etchz^nge of ideas and fcclingr about events of general human importance. Of course, it is quite true that crime, divorce eases and all the rest often receive frivolous or crudc treatment. And such treatment is undesirable, just as any incomplete, imperfect or unthinking treatment ol anything is unideal. We need improvement in all things, and in our press we need as psychological, ar; serious, as well based discussion of the celebrated case as possible. Instead of eliminating the publication of the facts about crime and its discussion, we need to make our treatment of this subject more thorough ami more intelligent. 1 o-roioioioioioioioioioioio ! 2j! Tl i 21 Road to Gr j oj o % i ? By Dcroth I ?it Author of "Gectrgie," "1 O * ? *\_ Copyright, 100S, by J. D. L1PPIXCO s. * ??? ? ? ? < i oioioioioioioioioioioioio CHAPTER II. 3 Continued. i "Shall we go into the garden and j look for your niece?" she said pleasJ antly. "I wouldn't interrupt Audrey j in one of her really enjoyable mo! ments for the world, but if you are waiting for your niece?" She led Miss Green through the wide, modern hall to the garden, by a side door. "Mr. Bromsgrove's coming," she I whispered as soon as they were alone. ! "The new vicar. I saw him through ! the window. I can't endure the man. He gives me the creeps, and I was : glad to escape. Isn't this a pretty house? Extraordinarily advanced for Malinder, You know we still look askance at l'art nouveau in Malinder. Those chests are rather fine, don't I you think? You'd never guess that j they were not really as old as they look. And that spinning chair! Audrey would love to spin, she says, j I wonder?" There was something : a little bitter and malicious in her I voice, and yet, looking at her little, j dark, lovely face, Greenie could not j bring herself to believe that it was ! a mean or spiteful one. The girl j looked soured, disappointed, bored, but certainly not mean. At the end of a long pergola, up ! whose bare wires the Crimson Rambler rambled, slowly it seemed, and I most unwillingly, they met the two , girls; Audrey sparkling and excited, i Tormentilla flushed and bright-eyed. : Greenie, as she shot a glance at her, was glad to see how pleased and in: terested she looked. I "Do you know, Greenie," she said, ; as they walked down together afterj wards, "that this kind of thing is an absolute revelation to me?" "What Vinrt nf thine'"' Miss Hreen : isked sharply. She obviously distrusted Tormentilla's thoughtful ; woods. j "All these people living their lives in Malinder with nice little at-homes and garden parties, and dinners and j all the rest of it. I never realized J that there could be anything between j the deserving poor ?and us. It was ; horribly narrow of me. Of course in books?and one must have seen them | walking about. But one never realized that they existed. Mother?" "They don't exist to her," Greenie said. "I am sure she would prefer that they didn't exist to you. My conscience pricks me, Sandy, when I remember how strongly she will disapprove of the intimacy?" j "They're rather nice," Tormentilla said softly. "And my happiness is much more important to you than h6r disapproval, isn't it? Besides, all ! men are brothers?you've often told ! me that. And Mrs. Cogwheel's house j is charming. The tea-table silver i was Queen Anne, wasn't it? And ! rfauch prettier than Aunt Rasping; ton's, and the old oak was quite as beautiful?" I "Only a good deal of it was humbu;?t" said Miss Green drily, "and the Raspington oak has always been at Raspington since the house was built. There's four or five hundred years' wear between them, that's all." I "But doesn't it seem queer to you? i j'm awfully glad to find that Malinder Is full of interesting people and interesting lives, besides the shops and the suffering poor. And I might never have known." i Miss Green looked as if she devoutly wished that she never had known. | "Already," Tormentilla said, tactfully changing the subject, "I have found one way of being useful. Aiirlrnv tnlri mp thp sporpf" sorrow of lier life yesterday, and I am going to cure it if I can. I assure you ( I have strong hopes." i "Crossed in love?" Miss Green asked sarcastically. i Poor Tormentilla's face flamed. | Her eyes filled with smarting tears, but she said nothing. | "I mean," said Miss Green hastily, i "that she looks such a pretty, happy, ( spoilt girl, and her troubles are al; most sure to be purely imaginary. ' Sandy dear, you know I wasn't thinkI ing of?" "I know," said the girl, trying to j smile. "Greenie, life won't always j be such a desert, will it? You always 1 say that clouds will be sunshine to; morrow, and I've never known you I to saj anything that wasn't true, so 1 ; must believe you, mustn't I? That's | the best of never lying; you do get ( believed at important moments. And ! poor Audrey?well, it was a confit dence. you see, and I promised to be | as secret as the grave. She's very j lovely, isn't she? And terribly like . Doily Avhen she's happy?" "She's not at all the kind of girl I I admire." Miss Green's voice was ! cold. "No^v. that Invplv dark rreri i ture with the little hat full of rosebuds?" "Mrs. Jack Standring? I didn't i see much of ber. Audrey says she is rather a dear, but dreadfully quarrelsome. She doesn't get on with her husband." i Here Miss Green laid down her em broidery with some agitation. ! "Sand.', 1 must beg of you not to allow yourself to be dragged into these unsuitable discussions." 1 Torine-nUlIa laughed. "I'm nineteen." siie said, "and full i o? common-sense, and I won't gossip if it distresses you. but 1 thought perhaps?you never can tell?I thought if I got to know her better I might bo able to help her too." Miss Green gasped. Her advice wi-s recoiling upon her with vcii, geance. "May I ask," she snid firmly, "if you propose in your youth and ap! palling ignorance, to try to act as , peacemaker between that young ; woman and her husband?" "1 may have opportunities," she murmured. "And did you see that nasty, sleek clergyman?that Mr. lOIOIOlQIOIOIOIOIOiOIOIOIC HE J? fetna Green j! o ?? 0 ea Deakin, rhe Winking I'.ing," Etc, ^ Z 0 TT COMPA K r. A11 rioht* reserved. ? IGlOiOlOIO'lOIOlOIOlO 0 I O 10 Bromsgrov?\ the man who gat a: those people into trouble at Greer rose, the man who father said had gift for finding out things? I'm gc ing to watch him. He shan't upse everybody here if I can help it. Whe a wolf comes to shepherd sheep?ot I expect I shall have lots of oppoi tunities." And poor Miss Green could onl hope that she never would. But there the conversation endeq and the next day Tormentilla too out her bicycle and rode down alon to the Cogwheels'. She found pretty Audrey in th drawing-room. "Mother is at the Helpful Endeax or, with Miss Cotton," she said softl] "She was so sorry she would miss yoi 'Dearest,' I said to her, 'Torirentill is coming'?you'll let me call you h your beautiful name, won't you? An she was furious with the 'Helpful' fo happening to-day. But you'll wait t see her, of course. Do stay with m as long as you can, because I'm in th most broken-hearted state." The little catch in her voice melt^ j Tormentilla's tender heart. "Has there been anything new? she asked quickly. "And I reall i wouldn't cry here, if I were you, be I cause the servants will see you whe 1 they bring tea in. Won't you?coul I you wait till afterwards, do yo think; when we are in the garden?" Audrew dabbed at one eye with little flimsy handkerchief. "I will if you like," said she wisl fully, "but it's a cruel, cruel world. She shook out. her pretty, frilly sk'irt Her gown was as pale a pink as th exquisite flush of her cheek, and he bright hair caught Tormentilla's eye bringing at once an vtnwelcome mem orv. She was a girl with tfie grac of spring. "If only Michael were different, Audrey said sorrowfully. "Perhaps you wouldn't have falle so much in love with him if he ha been," Tormentiila suggested fori! liantly. "You sometimes find ou that the most glaring faults wer quite?quite endearing when you'v lost them forever." Audrey dropped her eyes. "It isn't tint," she said softly; "b is perfect, of course, in my eyes, have put him on a pedestal from th first. But my father can't be e.xpecl ed to be so blind to his faults as am, can he? And then, even if h wasn't a black sheep, he is quite pooi Father is extraordinarily mercenar at heart, although he is so kind. H won't hear of my marrying a ma who can't keep me in comfort. H will look upon the total absence o prospects as an iron barrier. It seem rather paltry, doesn't it? And Mi Standring, Nigel?the eldest brothei you know?is so comfortably off. it' nothing to father that he's a vegetal ian and all wool and every unpleasan fad you can think of. I said t mother only the other day, 'Dearest I said, 'would he like it himself? And mother quite saw. Sometimes feel I would rather die than marry man who lunches so persistently on bean and a brazil-nut. Yet I can' disobey father." "You can go too far with obe dience," Tormentilla Eaid quickly "and it's your own long life you'v gol to live afterwards, not your fa ther's. Why doesn't Mr. Kenworth get some work to do?" Audrey sighed, "He doesn't like work very much, she said; "he's been in several situa tions already, and they've none o them exactly suited him. He's s often the round peg in the squar hole, poor darling. He was to be a engineer, but the early-rising?sis you know, or worse?tried him dread fully. And then he went in for chem istry, and he couldn't stand th fumes. You couldn't expect him tc could you? He seriously thought c taking up medicine and looked t father to help him on, but the es aminations are so frightfully stiff tha hp knew from the first it was quit hopeless and didn't waste his time o them. And, as I said, he's had seA eral posts in Malinder, but?well, h was born on a Friday, and you kno^ what an unlucky day that always is. "I see," said Tormcntilla tboughi fully. "You'll have money, I su; pose?" "Oh, no," said Aulrey softly; " am quite penniless." "Then who'll have your father money when he dies?" "But he isn't going to die." Audre looked up with a shocked face. ' shouldn't like to think he would evt die. Please dor.'t suggest such thing." "Everybody dies some day," sai -Tormentilla sharply, "and it would I much more sensible if your fathe gave you a <jood comfortable dot an let you marry your own love no\ than spoil your life,, and hoard up h gains. He'd be quite sure that yo weren't wishing for his death thei vnn kpp." Audrey sat up and studied her an ' mated face with some interest. "I'm afraid you have unusual! strong opinions, haven't you?" slashed anxiously. "Mother thinks rather a mistake?you don't min j my saying so, do you??in a youn girl to have strong opinions. I sai to her only the other day, 'Dearest I said, 'Tormentilla is so downrigl and sincere, and she has ideas?real! she has,' and mother said. 'The lei | ideas a girl has before she's twent; I five, the better.' And that was vei biting from mother, wasn't it?" "Look here," said Tormentill sharply, "do you love him?" "Oh, of course. I dream of hii incessantly, and I can think of notl j ing else. I am miserable when don't see him, and wretched when do. If that isn't love, what is It?" Tormentilla told herself doubtful! > that the same disease would naturaTTy [ show different symptoms in different minds, and she spoke hesitatingly. "I thought that when people who i loved each other were together they | were always gloriously happy," she ventured. "I've always heard so." J Audrey sighecl. i "Yes," she said: "but that's only at | the beginning. That's before they quite know, I think; and the feeling 1 gradually goes when they are absoi lutely sure. Then, you see, they real' ize so deeply the awful tragedy of ! life without each other, that they 1 can never forget it for an instant. And there's something about love which makes you quite certain that only the tragedy can be yours. Like a Romeo and Juliet, you see, only quite different." ! Tormentilla's experience found a n grain of truth in these vague senti]' ments, but she pursued her theme. "Do you love hira better than anything else?father and mother art? y worldly wealth and trifles like that?" she demanded. '' "Oh, much!" said Audrey. "That's the pity of It, as I told mother. 'Not e wisely, dearest,' I said, 'but too well.' " e "Does he love you enough to take you without money?" Audrey looked shocked. "Of r" course!" she cried. "I've always told '* him that my face was my fortune, a and he quite realizes it. The first ^ thing he ever told me was that ho * uvea me xor mysen hiuuk. "Then, why not marry him?" 0 Audrey looked sharply up. "Marry e him?" she said. "But. how can I, If e father?" "Never mind your father," said ' Tormentilla abruptly. "Run away." ? "Run away!" Audrey's eyes lit up. y "Yea, :run away," Tormentilla pursued doggedly; "if you really con? sider the world well lost for love an all that kind of thing, prove it." u "It's a perfectly fascinating idea," Audrey murmured admiringly. a "Elope." Tormentilla was quite carried away by her enthusiasm. "You are twenty-one. You can do as you like. Take matters into your own hands. Your father is too fond e of you to hold out long, I'm sure, and r your mother is always kind. She'Jl plead your cause when it comes to the point." e "It's a beautiful thought," said ? Audrey dreamily, "to miss the wedding and the dreadful cake and congratulations and presents and all the superficial flaunting show, but I'm afraid it will never occur to Mi" chael." Tormentilla rose impatiently. e "Make it occur to him!" she cried. 6 "Next time he asks you to marry him. tell him you will. If he asks when, say, 'Now.' That's all." ? "But it wouldn't be quite nice, would it?" murmured Audrey in her ~ flower-like way. * "Oh!" Tormentilla strode across the drawing-room and opened anf other window. "You do have your ' rooms hot," said she. ' Do ycu mind y if I open this" I think t can talk better in the fresh air." 'Please do," said Audrey. "It's so ? charming of you to be so candid. I've always admired it from the very beginning. I jaid to mother, 'Dearest,' I said, 'Isn't it splendid to find a girl ' who is so sincere and yet nice as s well?' And mother said, 'It is in" deed.' But won't it be rather draughty if both the windows are D, open at once? Mr. Bromsgrove was saying only yesterday that fres'a air j same straight frdm heaven, but that a a draught was most dangerous." Tormentilla turned from the wint dow quickly. "Do you dee much of Mr. Bromsgrove?" cried she cifri ousiy. "Yes." Audrey's eyes fell again. ' "He is a great favorite with mother and father. And sometimes I am afraid he comes rather too often. It makes one wonder what he comes for. And Michael is so horribly jealous. It is natural that he bhould be, of course, because, you see, poor darling, " he isn't the same persona grata In the f house." 0 "Do you like him?" Tormentilla e put the question like a challenge. n "Yes, quite; but only as a friend. naturally. He is so clever, isn't he? " So much depth of character. 'Still, waters run deep,' I said to mother e only the other day, about him. And mother said, 'Yes, indeed.' " To be continued. o it The Boat That Nature Built, e Man makes the largest sea-going n vessels, but nature constructs the ' smallest. This, a species of jellyfish, e is found only i.n tropical seas, and it w has a sail. That part of the fish that is subt merged resembles a mass of tangled >- threads, while the "sail" looks like a tough membrane, shaped like a 'I shell, and measuring quite five inches or more across. The jellyfish can 's raise or lower this sail at will. Knowing seamen avoid contact y with this curiosity of nature, for the 'I reason that each of the threads cora;r posing its body possesses the power a of inflicting a very painful sting. This sting enables the jellyfish to defend d itself from porpoises, albatrosses and )e other natural enemies. . }r It may be added that this odd little j creature has no other means of locov motion aside from its sail. When js' seen skimming along the surface of u the water it closely resembles a j child's ~oy boat, giving no indication whatever of a living creature in search of fooa.?Harper's Weekly. ly Population of Cities. Ie Tn 1S01 there were in Eurnne nnlv twenty-two cities which had more a than 100,000 inhabitants. J r.c-se lR were London. Dublin, Paris, Mnr~ seilles, Lyons, Amsterdam, Berlin, Hamburg. Vienna, Naples, Rome, Milan. Venire, Palermo, Madrid. Earce' v lona, Lisbon, St. Petersburg, Moscow, 3S Warsaw, Copenhagen and Constan'Jnople. Two only of these cities had * more than 500.000?London. $50,000 and Paris. G*!0 )00. Naples caiae 'a third, .with HO.,000 an 1 Vicuna fourth, with 230,000. m i I Sone two thousand Servian woI men have been practicing with rifles several months, v. iih a view to heJply ins tbe soldiers iu case ol war. New York City.?The little dress that is closed invisibly at the back is one of the favorites of the season, , and this model includes that feature as well as an exceptionally becoming arrangement at the front of the body portion. The side portions are cut with extensions that are lapped 1 over onto the centre, and this centre J can be made from tucking, as in this Instance, or Ifrom any pretty con- 1 I trasting material; or it can be made to match the body portion embroidered or braided, so that the model is susceptible of many variations. The skirt is straight and box pleated, and the closing is made for the entire length at the back, consequently laundering is a simple matter. Pale blue linen is the material in astro. Leu aiiu 111c nuui 10 mauc num tucked white lawn, but all-over embroidery T.ould be pretty used in the same way or the dress made of the linen throughout with the upper portion of the centre front braided with a little white soutache would be exceedingly smart and attractive. Among thinner materials lawns, batistes, chambrays and the like are all appropriate. The dress is made with body portion and skirt. The body portion consists of backs, side-fronts and centre-front. There are tucks laid over the shoulders that give breadth to childish figures and the various portions are joined on indicated lines. The sleeves are cut in one-piece each, gathered into bands. The skirt is laid in box pleats that are pressed flat | and the body portions are joined by means of a belt. The quantity of material required for the medium size (six years) is four ,and three-fourth yards twentyfour or twenty-seven, three and threeeighth yards thirty-two, or two and three-fourth yards forty-four inches wide, with five-eighth yard eighteen for the centre-front, one and one-half yards of edging to make as illustrated. 'in iiii inn | Empire Night-Gown?The nightgown that is cut low at the neck and made with short sleeves i9 the best liked tor warm weather wear. This model is dainty and charming, yet perfectly simple. The trimming is arranged to give the Empire effect, which is always becoming and attractive, and does not involve any additional labor, for the gown is a plain one, gathered at theupperedge. Fine nainsook makes this one. Day of the Tuck. Tucks are highly in favor, from their broadest, including pleats, to their finest?the pin or hair tucks of long memory. Fine underclothing has always rejoiced in quantities of these wonderful little tucks, which, on the better qualities, are made by hand, although it seems impossible that anything so large as human fingers should make anything so small as these tucks. .Lingerie Hats. The Charlotte Corday is fast gainj ing ground for the lace liugerie hat5?. I in this tvDe of headgear Chantilly lace, either black or white, is used over silk linings, and a bunch of flowers ptaerally ornaments the side. Outdoor Costume. The long, Y\I1 jabot and rabat give j a beautiful touch to the outdoor costume. Since the coats have deep lapels the raliats may be unusually long. They should be made with light materials, such as net, nainsook or very sheer linen aud lace. I . j Bell-Shaped Sleeves. The newest sleeves are slightly nore bell-shaped. Five Gored Shirred Skirt. The shirred skirt that is drawn In it about knee depth is one of the smartest and prettiest of the season. This one is adapted to almost the entire range of thin materials, for it is charming made from foulard and f>ther thin silks, it is beautiful for chiffon, both silk and cotton, while it Is lovely made of the fashionable nets and. it is, indeed, adapted to every soft finished material that can be shirred-with success. It can be made either in walking length or with train, so becoming suited both to formal and informal occasions, consequently extending its usefulness in aenniteiy. f or me uana mat confines the fulness any preferred trimming can be used. In this instance the skirt is made of embroidered marquisette and the band is of heavy lace, while there is a' pretty ribbon bow at the left side, but veiled effects are greatly in vogue and a casing could be applied over the under side of the skirt and ribbon or silk of contrasting color inserted to give a perfect effect; or lace could be arranged underneath transparent material to produce the fashionable veiled result. The skirt is made in five gores. It is shirred at the upper edge and arranged over a fitted girdle that keeps it perfectly in place. It is shirred again at knee depth and the trimming band arranged on indicated lines. The closing is made invisibly. The quantity of material required for the medium size is seven yards twenty-one, twenty-four or thirty-two, four and one-half yards forty-four inches wide, with one and one-half yards of banding two inches wide, and one and one-half yards of ribbon to trim as illustrated. The width of the long skirt at the lower edge is three and three-fourth yards. ' ^ Bating Suit, With Separate Dart Fitted Bloomers?The bathing suit always follows the general trend of fashion, and this year the one that is j made in Russian tunic style is a favorite. Here is a model that is graceful and becoming, yet perfectly simple withal. The blouse and skirt are cut in one, held at the waist line by th6 belt. The closing is made at the left side, and the tunic extends just to the knees. The Sash. Among other trifles of dress that j have gained in importance since the J opening of the season is the sash. | Special ribbons in weaves as soft as j chiffon have been brought out for these sashes. Illusion Silk. One of the pretty new silk and cot- j ton materials is illusion 9ilk that ; comes in all colors for street and ; evening wear at remarkably low j prices. Flowers For Hats. Flowers in many shades of color I are frequently used to encircle the j crown, or sometimes to form it. Or | again a pompon of flowers shading from the deepest to the lightest tones forms the only 'rimming of some of the hats. Saslies on Lingerie. Sashes again on lingerie gowns is the latest order. They encircle the waist, are knotted at the side and hang down in ends reaching nearly to the hem of the skirt. MA'S CULTURE CLUB. Ma's goin' out to lectures now; she don't play cards no more; She listens to professors talk, and say?m bridge is a bore; She's payin' dues and has to wear the best things that shl's got; ' Ma calls it elevatm', but pa says it'? tommyrot. She went to hear a Harvard man at Woodruff's yesterday: When Da got home last night he asked i, "What did he have to say?" Ma tried to think and then she said: 'T don't exactly know The title of his subject?it was interesting, though. "He spoke about the comet and?oh, I remember. now? /? Of life on Mars?I couldn't quite eatcb what he meant, somehow; He had a lot of charts and things; his talk was full of thought." Ma calls it elevatin, but pa says it'* tommyrot. ?Chicago Record-Herald. "What drove the lady exchange editor crazy?" "Reading of bargain* a thousand miles away."?Cleveland Leader. Maude ? "That girl 1b a lifelong friend of mine." Ethel?"Dear me! And she doesn't look a day over forty."?Boston Transcript. Do you know that if a woman has half a dozen rings on her fingers her back hair requires an awful lot of ad justing??Woman's Life. "Hare you read my last poem?" asked the amateur versifier, and the weary critic answered involuntarily,. "I hope so."?Woman's Life. Fair nature is the sweetest bard of all! Once take a walk with her you'll never doubt it. There is more poetry in spring's glad c?fl' Than all the stuff the poets sing ab<Wt itKnicker?"Small fruits are reported ruined by the frosts." Mrs. Knicker?"How lovely! Then we shall have only big berries in the box."? Judge. "In England one person in every thirty-seven is a pauper." "Gee! Are the ultimate consumers as scarce as that over there?"?Chicago Record-Herald. "What kind of a fellow is Griggs?"" "He's one of those chaps who can do anything." "How dellgntlul!" "Yes,, but he likes to tell of it." "Oh!"? Boston Herald. Softleigh (timidly)"Do you be- . lieve in the mind cure, Miss Sophy?"" Miss Sophy (meaningly)?"Yes, when the cure has something to work on."" ?Baltimore American. , "What kind of a crossing did you have?" "Wretched," said Mrs. 'Punctilly; "stayed In our stateroom all the way over and not a single person, called on us."?Buffalo Express. There -was a young lady named Fitch". Who heard a loud snoring, at which She took off her hat, ana found that a. "rat" Had fallen asleep at the "switch!" "Don't you wish you had Aladdin's wonderful lamp?" said the imaginative boy. "No," replied the practical youth. "I'd rather be sole proprietor of a city full of gas meters."?Washington Star. Nervous Lady (on her first ocean voyage)?"And, captain, what In the world would you do if your crew suddenly mutinied?" The Captain (smll ingly)?"Simply write a 'Help Wanted?Male' ad., and hand it to thewireless operator."?Puck. Y~ "If you look about you," said the ominous acquaintance, "you will see the handwriting on the wall." ''The "" handwriting on the wall doesn't worry me," replied Senator Sorghum, "so long as they Jon't go rummaging into my private memoranda."?Washington Star. Nurse?"Doctor, the patient rallied a little last night, and shows unexpected strength this morning. He says he won't take any more of that vile medicine."' dr. Kallowmell? "Dear, dear! We'll have to do something to get him out of that condition."?Chicago Tribune. Strange Catch by Maine Fishers. It is about as near a sea serpent as anything that has ever been brought into Portland. Some of the fishermen have called it a king herring, whatever that is, and some have called it a king smelt. It was caught by Howard Winock, a member of the schooner Selma's crew. Looking at the fish from all sides and top and bottom it is very evident he is a rare specimen. It is attenuated as an eel, for from nose to tail fin it measures about four feet and is no thicker than a man's wri^. A sharp pointed wide dorsal fin runs ?~ or*/1 +Vio orhnlo hfldv is HI Ulig kiiC uauA. ouu >. -w.w v about the solor of a smelt. Then there are some wicked looking jaws, with big sharp teeth, opening about four inches when stretched to^tbeir utmost. The fish looks as if be might be capable of great speed through the water as well as capable of great destructiveness.?Portland Press. $2,000,000 For Children's Teeth. A singular benevolence was lately promised to the city of Boston, v Thomas A. Forsythe, a wealthy resident, proposes to give $2,000,000 to care for the teeth of the children. He plans to give every child from the time of its first tooth until it shall arrive at the age of sixteen, the best dental service possible, without any charge. His .purpose is to construct a building, quipped with every appliance known to modern dentistry and manned by a corps of dentists, who will render the best professional service to be found in the country.? Christian Herald. A Snake in H?s Hair. The hair of the Indian yogi or religious mendicant owing to long years of neglect becomes matted together in a fashion more easy to imagine than to describe and certainly could not be brushed out. It is of very ^reat length and when allowed to Sang down trails on the ground. One night one of these yogis was sleeping under a tree when a snake wormed its way into his tangled coiflure, and he had quite a difficult task to get rid of it in the morning.? Wide World Magazine.