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tumorous department. It Affected Them. The rain, which had come so suddenly and unexpectedly, was falling In torrents. Among the persons who had taken shelter under a friendly Madison street awning was a fashionably dressed woman. "I beg your pardon, madam," said a plainly attired man, considerably past middle age?, stepping up to her and lifting his hat, "but I want to offer you my sincere thanks." "What do you mean, sir?" she said. "Thanks for what?" "I never expected to see it again," he went on with tears in his eyes. "It has been nearly thirty years since"? "Silence wnai, sir; nuai aic jv? talking about?" "Pardon my emotion, madam, but I used to live in Salt Lake City, and"? "I have nothing to do with Salt Lake City, sir. I never was there In my life." "But I was. That was my home for many years. And when I saw"? "When you saw what?" "That hat of yours, madam. It brought back the old thrill. It's an exact reproduction of the great Mormon Tabernacle, which my eyes have *een aching, through all the weary years, to see once more before I die! My longing has been satisfied at last, and I thank you from the bottom of a grateful heart!" Again lifting his hat, he stepped forth into the pouring rain and strode rapidly a own i ne hucci, mi?uB > eyes as he walked.?Chicago Tribune. Worked Both Way*. "Old Jacobb Weatherly is a man of extreme regularity, and on the principle of 'early to bed,' etc., is the best guiding rule for a household, he insists that every one under his roof and authority shall retire at 9.30 o'clock," said Jacob Krammerer of Philadelphia recently. "As may be readily understood," continued Mr. Krammerer, "this rule sometimes proves irksome to the younger members of the family, especially to Charles. "Recently, however, Charles reached man's estate, and on his birthday Jacob gave him his blessing. 'I have no longer any authority over you,' he said, 'now that you are 21 years old, you must act as pleases you best.' "On the following Saturday evening, therefore, Charles returned home at 11.15 o'clock and rapped at the door. " 'Who's that?" said Jacob from the window. " 'Charles,' replied his son. " 'But why do you come home at this TVvn'* vAti Vnnur wp Inrk 11D at UVUt A/VIi V /vu .? ?. W . _ r 9.30r " 'Yes,' remonstrated the youth, 'but I'm gone twenty-one now, and can do as I please.' " 'Quite son,' said the old man, 'but so can I.' And the window went down 1 with a bang, and Charles was left to face the dark fact that twenty-one 1 worked two ways." i Returned the Souvenir.?"David Belasco, the playwright, was being congratulated on the success of his { latest play," said Simon B. Bernhelmer of New York, at the Arlington the other night "'Writing plays is perilous business,' said Mr. Belasco, thoughtfully. 'With every fresh play an author risks his all. Past triumphs don't count He who has written twenty superb pieces is Just as likely to be damned on his twenty-first as any tyro. " The public is critical and Just be fore it is kind. I remember once?' "Mr. Belasco laughed. " 'There was once," he resumed, 'a playwright who sat In the front row of stalls at the first night of a new play of his. The piece failed. It failed dreadfully. In fact, in the middle of the third act the entire company was hissed off the stage. " 'As the playwright sat, pale and sad, amid the uproar, a lady behind him leaned over and said: "Excuse me, sir; but knowing you to be the author of this play, I took the liberty at the beginning of the performance of snipping off a lock of your hair. Allow me now to return it to you."' "? i Washington Herald. A Supposabl? Case.?This story is being told on a Kansas lawyer. The lawyer was arguing a case before a judge and desiring to Illustrate by supposing a case, he did so, as follows: "We will suppose, your honor," he said, "that your honor were to steal a horse?" "No, no, no!" interrupted the judge, "not at all, not at all, sir." 'Tain't a supposable case, sir." "Very well, begging your honor's pardon," said the eager lawyer, with more zeal than prudence: "very well, * V> j??.n/valny thot T ahmilH Q t 1 a 111CI1, lliui A UIIVWSU Mbww ? horse?" "Ah, yes, yes," said the judge, "that is a very different thing, very different Mr. X. Proceed, sir."?Kansas City Journal. Cruel Woman!?The tramp narrated to a fellow wanderer the story of an Intensely tragic occurrence. "Yus," he said, "there was a bootlful lawn in front of the 'ouse, nicely kept, and It looked a real good chance for gettin' a bit of honest symperthy. So I walks In, gets down on me 'ands and knees, and starts chewin' the grass. Out comes as kindly-looking a lidy as I ever seed, and wanted to know wot I was doin". Told her 1 'adn't 'ad grub fer weeks, and was obliged to eat grass. She looked very symperthetlcly at me, and then said: 'My pore man. Come around behind the house. The grass is longer there!"'?London News. Too True! Too True!?The baby was being questioned playfully as to his senses. "What are these for?" touching his eyes. "To see wlv," he answered. "And this?" touching his nose. "To mell wlv." "And your mouth?" "Oh, to eat." "What are your ears for?" This was a puzzle, but after a moment he said with firm conviction, "to wash."?Delineator. Why He Lost Out.?Jack?I called on Miss Gotrox a few times last wlntrloj *n mobo Invo t.i her hilt failed. Tom?Wouldn't she stand for It? Jack?Oh, she seemed to be willing enough, but no man can make love to a woman successfully, when there is a cuckoo clock in the parlor.?St. Louis Republic. Ittisffllancous trailing. FUR HUNTING. The Trapper's Life and Description of His Work. Hidden away in many a narrow valley of the Rocky mountains or the Coast Range or in the vast regions of the far and little known north, lie the trap lines which each season furnish a I great part of the fur that serves tol protect civilized men and women rrom| winter's cold or to adorn their apparel. Early in the autumn, long before the drat snow has fallen, the mountain trapper moves into the lonely valley that he has chosen, fits up his old cabin or builds a new one, selects his trap line, and begins to prepare for his winter's work. There Is fuel to be provided and food; traps must be put in order or built, stretches provided, the signs of the mountains studied. Slowly the nights grow longer and the cold stronger, then some quiet evening the trapper hears a faint rattle of snow against the stovepipe or the hissing of flakes which come down his chimney, and he knows that winter has come?the time to begin to take his fur. As soon as the storm Is over he starts out, loaded with traps and bait As he follows his line he reads, written on the surface of the white mantle that covers all the earth, a hundred stories, each of which teaches him some fact about the winter's work. Here is where a deer has moved after the storm ended, there a fox was hunting for rabbits, grouse or mice, at another place are seen the great round footprints of the lynx. No longer now can the denizens of the mountains move about unknown; each one must ' leave on the snow a story of his wanderings, usually not difficult to read. The trapper works on through the ' winter sometimes fortunate, again un- 1 lucky. Perhaps there has been a \ great migration of some species of ( animal into the section covered by his line; perhaps an exodus has left the country bare of lynx or marten. It may be that a fisher?or worst of all a wolverine?gives him great trouble . by following his line, removing the . baits from his trap or eating the ani- . mals that have been taken in them. During the dead of winter furious storms sometimes rage, when it is impossible to go abroad; and the trapper . must lie housed up until the weather moderates. Then comes the task of . freeing the traps from new fallen snow, resetting them and beginning . anew. , The cold grows harder, the fur bet- . ter, February comes and March; the days begin to lengthen, the sun has more power, the snow settles. Sometimes the lone trapper feels that he would like to see a human face, but all the time his stock of furs is growing and he takes satisfaction in seeing It increase. At last the weather grows distinctly warmer; the snow becomes dirty and brown, the streams begin to carry floods of chocolate colored wa- j ter. and the trapper knows that his j Bzwi o/v? la Avoi> Put Ha Ho a o OWfcil ocaovii 10 vvvt* *-? u k iw*o ** o ^ stock of furs and the long and lonely t winter Is well paid for. f If It is in the far north, the Indian and his family have received their advances from the Hudson's Bay company and have started out for the trapping ground, which from time lm- I memorial has been a family possession and will be so until the white man? who respects none of the customs or g traditions of the old past?may Invade It and drive out the Indian. They Journey by canoe, all hands working hard for the general good. Many days' travel may be before them ere they can reach this ground, but when they arrive there the lodge Is put up and all arrangements are made for winter comfort. Provisions of deer or fish are gathered and since the weather is now growing cold are frozen and put up on scaifolds far above the reach of the dogs. Then when the time comes to set the traps the head of the family selects the line and he, his sons and sons-in-law begin the work. Much of this work Is still the providing of food, for unlike the white man the Indian does not carry with him a quantity of provisions; he lives off the country. The men kill moose and caribou and bears, the women snare rabbits and birds and both unite in catching the fish with which the lakes of that unknown country abound. It Is from this north land that come some of the best furs in the world? marten, beaver, otter, fisher, possibly even a silver fox, which when It reaches Its ultimate market may be worth $2,000 or $3,000. though the Indian will be fortunate if he receives for it $200. The little community is a busy one. Its two or three men and a like number of women and girls and of lit- s tie children all have their appointed a tasks. The question of food remains c ever present. Not only food for the a people but also for the dogs, which j drag the loaded sledge through the far-stretching silent forests, while the f driver moves along with them over the ^ surface of the snow upheld by his long s snowshoes. e At last the winter with its hopes c and fears, its joys and sorrows, ft over t past, the snow melts, the ice disap- j pears, the canoes, mended and loaded c with the family possessions, including t the winter's catch of fur. move off on their way back to the post where the j. advances of the autumn were received. There the furs are turned in, the Indlan pays his debts and let us hope ( has a good balance and the summer Is spent at various tasks until the x time has rolled around to another trapping season.?Forest and Stream, j 1 ? | c A WEIRD FOREST. Hindu Hermits' Caverns In Its Interi esting Depths. j Five miles south of Vaishakhare is < the village of Sonavle in the Ghat. ' From the main street of Sonavle if the t eye be turned to the south, right upon i the face of the precipice, and about i one-third of the way up, will be seen < a row of caves, with square cut i mouths, looking for all the world like 1 the stopping holes in some titanic In- < strument. Thither let us wend. At 1 first the path leads through rice lands i and pastures. But at last cultivation 1 ends, and we are on the edge of one 1 of the weirdest forests that the mind t can conceive. All along the foot of i this seven league precipice runs a belt ' of wood. I From a little way off a strange sound < is heard, like a wild continuous sigh. 1 One can almost imagine that he is on i the floor of the primeval sea and that ! the sigh is the beating of the breakers I on the cliff. But as he enters the wood ' the cause becomes apparent. In this I mysterious wood there is no peace. < On the sunlit plains which we have < just quitted the air is cool and still. But in ? this wood, although shadowed from the sun by the precipice, a close hot, fitful wind is always blowing or rather whirling up and down the deep carven hollows and rugged ridges; little whirlwinds suck the fallen leaves. They never rest, these leaves. In the west we are used to thinking of a fallen leaf as something small, fallen from something large. But in the east, where everything is upside down, a fallen leaf is a teak leaf, two feet long, fallen from a puny stunted stem. Beyond the wood is the cllft. The last few hundred yards are a real climb, up steps worn in the hard baked clay by the feet of worshippers. And so to the ledge in front of the caves. Beneath is the wood, and above the rock. It is not a natural ledge, but carved out of the precipice, so that the doors of the caves are a little way withdrawn. Besides this the precipice is in the form of a semicircle, that no ray of sun, even in the torrid days of May, can ever have fallen on the ledge. And in the wild monsoon whether the sheet of water running off the face of the cliff above forms a natural veil, shutting off the caves from the outer world. On each side are rows of cells and the central is a temple, with a shrine and carved pillars. The carving has been partially torn from the pillars, leaving the rough core. Who has done this thing? Not the Mussulmans. Oh! a tree, you suggest? No. You forgot; trees do not grow in caves. Who, then? Devout Hindus. Time and again has some cultivator come thither whose heir perhaps has been too long expected in vain. Hacking off a figure from the pillar and toiling down the slope again, he returns to his hut. Covering the figure with red lead, he stands It in a corner. After some days the heir is born. And the figure becomes the household god, the "dev." Some of the carving is already atrip ped from these pillars. Ana it ail win ?o unless the scions of the houses of "Sonavle" appear In the world when iesired. "The cells on each side of the main 1 :ave once held hermits. They drank the water that gathered in these cisterns and ate the grain that was i Drought to them by the temple visitors. When they had no grain they ' tasted or smoked themselves into insensibility. All the livelong day they sat and looked out, as we are looking ' >n to the stretches of rice fields far jelow, blotted from view here and i :here this February morning by smoke 1 'rom the rab fires, and listened, as we l ire listening, to the dolorous churn- J ng of the wind in the wood below. I rhus they sat on without bodily com- i 'orts and without passions, meditating < ihemselves Into oneness with the all 1 pervading Brahma, I The minister went and the mer- s ihants went and still they meditated 1 >n. But with the departure of the ] vorldly ones the visitors to the cliff j emple became less frequent. There | vas no grain to eat. One by one they ] ose and went to another place. They j ire gone, and the carving on the pil- ] ars Is going. Only the all pervading ? 3rahma remains and the dolorous :hurning of the wind in the wood and he dripping veil of monsoon water rom the cliff.?London Globe. SCALPING. ndian Tradition That Tells the Origin of the Custom. According to the Indian tradition, icalping arose in this wise: Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of rears ago, when all the Indians in the vorld were of one tribe and under >ne chief, there arose a dispute in he tribe as to who should succeed he old chief, who had Just died with>ut issue. There were two principal isplrants to the honor, each having i considerable following. The dispute finally ended with strife and var, and for the first time in the his:ory was "brothers' blood shed by irothers." The chief of one of the factions lad a beautiful daughter, and one of he bravest warriors was a suitor for ler hand. Her father consented to he match on one condition?that the foung brave should journey to the :amp of the enemy, many miles iway through the deep snow, kill the :hief. his rival, and return with some inmistakable token of his death. In ipite of the snow and the distance, he young man immediately set out >n his Journey and, after lying in am>ush for several days, finally entered he camp, boldly attacked the chief n his tent, slew him and cut off his ' lead. j Next morning the murder was discovered, and the tribe set off in hot )ursult. Little by little they gained ipon the fleeing warrior, who in his ir.xiety to elude his pursuers cast iway all his impediments, to his very clothing, retained only his stone knife tnd the trophy which was to win him lis bride. His pursuers gained rapidly until Inally so near did they come he could tear them on his trail. His grewome burden grew heavier and heavier, and as a last resort he whipped >ut his knife, stripped the scalp from he head of the dead man and, thus ightened of his load, reached his own camp in safety, presented to his chief he token of his prowess and was wed, imid great rejoicing to the damsel of lis choice. From thenceforth he was permitted to wear an eagle's reather in hts cup, and to this day the eagle's feather remains the sign of the successful varrior, the number he displays delending upon the number of scalps le has taken.?Chicago Record-Herild. Dickens' Characters.?Dickens beJtowed many of his fictitious names on eal flesh and blood personages, says in admirer of the famous novelist. Inieed he and David Copperfleld were lot far apart, so far as salient fea:ures were concerned. Tracy Tupman vas the happy counterfeit of a man ciamed Winters, who at the present | In.. t.'/vi.M Kft ?,L?1 fnt* . juxy r? uuiu uc ^/uuiiucu wi aucoicu iw? what is known in slang as "mashing." Paul Dombey was an invalid nephew jf the author, his right name being Harry Burnett. Dora Copperfield was i Miss Beadwell, with whom Dickens was in love at the early age of 18. Mrs. Bardell, who gave Pickwick the worst time in his life, was a scheming boardng house widow named Ann Ellis, rommy Traddles was Col. Froom TalPourd, formerly superintendent of Indian affairs in Canada. Miss Mowcher was a Miss Wilkes, Mrs. Skewton a Mrs. Campbell; the abominable Squeers was Wlliam Shaw; the lovely Cheeryble brothers were cotton spinners and merchants of Manchester; the fat boy was a true to life character, and so was Captain Cuttle, ane of the most attractive of all." GAMBLING DEVICES. t t Many Ingenious Ways Found In j Paris. ? The Frenchman Is an inveterate t gambler, and any and every occasion > for trying his luck at games of ' chance is sure to find him ready to J challenge fortune. For some years t nast the cafes of France have been 1 encumbered by automatic apparatus c of a more or less honest description, which, in most cases, are little less than artful devices to rob the public of their coppers. The public proba- J bly knows that quite well, but tne persistent confidence or hopefulness of the man in the street in his luck enables the makers of the penny in the slot machines to reap a rich harvest by trading on public credulity. I remember some years ago, on a j wet day, after lunching with some friends in a suburb of a Normandy j seaside resort, trying my fortune at t one of these automatic catchpennies. ^ I seldom touch the foolish things, c but it was too wet to venture outside and there was nothing to do but to ^ sit in the cafe. So I put a penny in a the slot, backed green and pulled the t lever. Out came two pence. I put the money in my pocket. Then I i placed a penny on red and out came (. flvepence. The game began to be not j only Interesting but profitable. c After two or three lucky shots, the c people in the cafe gathered round ? me and handed me their pennies a with the request that I would play j for them. I did so, and in most cases j was successful. I won for myself; put in money for the children of the t proprietor, did the same for the i maid who had served us, and finally as the landlord seemed to be looking a rather glum, I put in a penny for t him and brought out a sevenpence. t By this time the rain had cleared off c and I left the cafe. I have since reflected that such prodigal luck as ? was mine that day is not without c danger. It might have turned my f head, and if I had become a penny t In the slot fiend what a horrible end I might have come to! Happily I e was saved from such a fate and in c spite of my phenomenal good for- li tune in the Normandy cafe I have h never?or hardly ever?tempted the fickle goddess since. s But there are others. Go into any t of the small wine shops or cafes in q Paris and you are almost certain to see in a conspicuous part of the es- o tablishment the familiar automatic n tempter. They are of three kinds: 8 First, the apparatus which distrl- c butes counters?they are no longer r illowed to distribute money?In ac- 0 :ordance with the Intentions of the 11 ndivldual who regulates it; second, c that in which the skill of the player ^ seems to determine the result. I say c 'seems," for that Is only another 3 nethod of gulling the good, confldng public. In the machines of the q first type the player puts In his penay?that Is an operation that is indis- 0 pensable in all the apparatus. Then a fie turns a handle and wins or loses. p The machines are regulated In such r i way that winning and losing series * ilternate by turns. But the winning e series, by which the fortunate play- * jr obtains a counter representing 8 twopence, which he must spend on ^ :he premises?that Is where the wine ' shop keeper comes in?is much ^ shorter in duration than the losing series. The automatic man Is not in A the business for his health. Thus ^ pou may play a franc and not win t nore than one or two counters, say ^ fourpence, or you may lose. If you strike a bad series you may Dlay - r twenty "coups" at a penny a time md come away with a couple of two- ^ penny counters, which you must take jjut In liquor whether you like It or ^ not. ? In the second type of these me8 :hanical devices for cajoling the t public the player chooses In advance i color, or a card. One system, for example, consists of two clock faces in which are marked hearts, spades, :lubs and diamonds. You place the hand of the clock on the card you are Packing, put a penny In the slot, and turn the handle. If you have been e well inspired you win twopence or c threepence and the prospect of win- t ning three pence has a wonderful ef- t rect in stimulating the energy of the t gamblers. The result is that the tak- v ngs of these machines are very con- f siderable. A modification of this c system prevents even fewer chances t if success for the backer. It con- n sists of an arrangement by which the ii 'Joueur" backs one of three colors, e ind if successful, wins a penny, two- b pence or threepence. But the su- b preme attraction Is that the stake Is fi )nly- a half penny, Instead of twice w hat amount, as In the other ma- tl :hlnes. Nobody minds risking a c; talfpenny, especially as he stands to f' vin a counter, or even two counters, n vorth threepence each. So It often b lappens that a customer plays twenthree pence or sixpence. He has In eallty only one chance in four and b iccaslonajly his bad luck is aggrava- b ed by the appearance of a device p eading: "Persevere and you will nake your fortune," or, more iron!- p ;al still: "Beware of thieves." The third type of apparatus Is y me in which the player's vanity is 11 pandered to by the illusion that his ^ skill has something to do with the y result. After dropping his penny in p :he slot the player presses on a t( spring which when released sends a tnetal ball spinning around a circle s 11 a sort of looping the lop movenent. When it reaches the vertical a plane on the top it runs along and falls into one of five holes marked: ivon, lost, reserved, won, lost. If the ball falls Into the first or fonrth hole the player has won twopence; if its progress is arrested by the second or j fifth hole he has lost. If it tumbles Into the "reserved" compartment the player has to spend more coppers in getting it out, and trying his uck again with the released ball, rhe reserved ball is only released if the player wins, and it is amusing to see how people will spend penny ifter penny getting out the imprls :>ned balls, only to lose the lot at the 1nish. This apparatus is an excelent contrivance for the inventor, and ^ is It is a game of hazard?eh comjlen!?the law does not interfere. '' As to the profits of these tricky contrivances, those of the wineshop keep- ^ ?r, in addition to the extra drinks which successful players are obliged to purchase, vary from 10 per cent to 11 paratus. There are in Paris over 12,10 per cent on the takings of the ap- w )00 wine shops and 500 popular bars, ind the number is increasing every ri lay. In the populous quarters of the ^ :ity there is hardly a wine shop in which you will not find one or more of w these apparatus. An estimate which ? [ consider far below the reality places s' he number of automatic machines of :hls kind in the Paris bars and wine shops at 3,500 and their daily takings it 12 shillings each. That represents l sum of ?2,100 filched from the pocksts of the working classes every day, >r over ?760,000 a year. What Is vorse still, probably an equal amount n counters is cashed for needless irinks, so that those who participate n this unprofitable game are reduced o two unattractive alternatives, to ose their money or be poisoned.?Lonlon Globe. MASONS IN MOTHER TEMPLE. lessions Held In "Solomon's Quarries." at Jerusalem. "Solomon's Quarries," lost for ages md found by accident, are attracting ionslderable attention just now, esjeclally among members of the Maonic fraternity, say s a Washington etter. These quarries are under ancient rerusalem, and according to tradition, he site is the birthplace of Masonry. The Masonic lodge In Jerusalem holds iccasional sessions there now. In a report to the state department, rhomas R. Wallace, American consul it Jerusalem, gives some interesting acts. "I am informed," he says, "by Mr. ^oyd, one of the oldest American resllents of this country, that Robert dorris, of the United States, Drought tut a charter from the Grand Lodge - *- -* If/vn/lolAir H L'aniiau, clIlU Willi null!jr auuiiuoiuj, m English engineer; Charles Netter, i French Jew, and others, founded the loyal Solomon Mother Lodge, No 293, August 7, 1873. "Mr. Floyd was senior warden at the ime and later became master of the odge. "This lodge had the charter taken iway a few years ago on account of >ad management. Several attempts lave been made to procure a new barter, all of which failed. "These quarries, known as King Solomon's, have no seating or other onvenlences. Still Masons meet there rom time to time, notably during the raveling season. "The quarries are municipality proprty, and an admission of one franc Is harged. Masonic meetings can be ield at any time. The last one was leld less than a year ago. "I have been able to count up only eventeen members of the Masonic fraernity, though doubtless there are iuite a few more. "Reference is made to the discovery f the quarries, and it Is of interest to lOte that all records concerning them eem to have been lost, and their dlsovery was by pure accident. The stoy is that a certain Dr. Barclay was ut hunting and his dog disappeared n a hole under the north wall of the ity. As he failed to reappear the octor tore away the weeds and earth overing the orifice, until the hole was ufflclently enlarged for him to enter ii search of his dog. and thus the uarries were discovered. "I understand that some of the large lrcular areas common In the quarry re used by visiting Masons for lodge urposes. The length of time the quary has been lost is a matter of conjecure. Probably the entrance was closd at the time of the destruction of he city by the Romans, or from contant accumulation of debris. "As an indication of the length of Ime the quarry has been closed, atention is called to a find made by Mr. 'age, of the American colony of Jerualem, In the quarry many years ago. l small pottery lamp was discovered y him filled with dust composed of he dust particles that float In the air. 'hese particles would remain in the essel after falling, protected by the lm from disturbing currents. The lottery lamp Is one that was probably ised by the workmen In the quarry, t contained only the accumulation of lust atoms, and as It was about one nch In depth and was full, it will be een that ages must have passed to hus fill the vessel." MILLIONS OF PIGEONS. "wo Hundred Young Pigeons From a Single Tree. The passenger pigeon lays only two ggs, but seldom rears more than one hick in each nest. The number of hese birds was formerly enormous. In he early part of the nineteenth cen ury the ornithologist, Wilson, gave a wonderful account of them, writes rofessor Wallace in the Independent. )ne of their breeding places in Kenucky was a tract of forest land forty niles long and several miles wide, and n this space in April and May almost very tree was crowded with nests, ioth on the higher and lower ranches. As soon as the young were ully grown people came from the ,'hole country round and camped here, feeding on the young birds and arrying away sacks, or even wagons till of them. During this time the oise made by the myriads of birds, oth with voice and wing, was a conInuous roar like thunder so loud as 3 render it difficult to make one's self eard. The ground was covered with roken limbs of trees, eggs and young igeons, on which herds of hogs came 3 fatten, while high overhead birds of rey?hawks, buzzards and eagles? ere sailing about and seizing the oung birds from the nests. The counry people cut down the trees most laa 11-1 h riAotn nnrl .iavm Af imno crr\ f OftA cm n IV.II iicsin, ailU swiiiciiuico fewi *?vv oung pigeons from a single tree. The arent birds daily roamed the country 3 a distance of nearly 100 miles for heir food. Wilson describes one of hese great flocks on its daily excurion as being more than a mile wide nd of very great depth, in the air far bove gunshot. They flew with Irnlense speed?50, 60 miles an hour? nd the stream went on for several ours before it diminished in density, nd some hours more in straggling arties. He calculated, roughly, that his one flock, going to and from one reeding place, contained about 200,00,000 of birds, and this was only one ut of many such aggregations known t that time in the United States. Real Antique.?The collector of aniques stopped off at Bacon Ridge. "Good day, sir," he said, addressing lie postmaster. "I am collecting oldishioned articles and would like to now if I could find anything like that 1 this hamlet. Say antique mugs, for istance." Uncle Jason stroked his chin whisers. "Antique mugs? By heck, I know (ie very place where thar be two of hem, now." "You do? Here's a good cigar. Now here can I find these antique mugs?" "Why, down on Main street, in Hiim Spruceby's barber shop. Grandad Wieatly and Pap Simmons are in fiere getting snaveu ana, Dy necn, hen It comes to antique inugs, I reckn thars be the oldest in the country^ Hunger."?Exchange. WOMEN AS SOLDIERS. * b Were Once Reckoned Among Fight- a ing Strength?Mythical Amazons. From the nature of things women v soldiers can only be found as a class a among barbarians?up to this time at v any rate. The Dahomey Amazons ? made a poor show against the French, 8 but Burton had been much impressed 1 with them forty years earlier?and he was a Judge. The discipline was ter- h ribly severe in his time; he did not P doubt they were very formidable s troops. Relaxation of discipline ruined them. t The mythical Amazons claim a word n since Prof. Sayce adduced such striking evidence to suggest that they were the warrior priestesses of Hittlte invaders. Of the American Amazons it may be recalled that Humboldt thought the legend not impossible; and he had studied the original records. Very few who have written on the subject are thus qualified probably, but Mr. Alfred Wallace has shown us lately that Spruce, the great botanist, looked into the evidence carefully and formed a strong opinion that It war trustworthy. Much more interesting are the shield maidens of the Vikings. Would that we knew more about them personally. The historical sagas allude to them, but always, so far as I remember, in a matter of fact way, as to male personages. One of the very grandest poetic sagas Is that of the Shield Maiden Hervor, but even this takes for granted nearly everything we particularly want to know. She dressed as a man and Joined the Vikings. Presently she gained the command of her party?and the story opens, true in the main probably. The circumstantial account of the battle of Bravoll between Sigurd of Denmark and Harald Hlldltoun of Norway mentions several shield maidens who commanded troops. One even bore Harald's standard. All fought like heroes, or demons, and I think all died on the field, but It seems that they were only women who rose to command by daring and military genius. Is there any authority for the legends of Viking bands wholly feminine? The old Irish "Book of Lecan," says casually "for men and women went alike to battle in those days;" and the record 6f tribal obligations called "Hosting" reckoned women among the fighting strength. Moreover, the life of Abbe Odamnan of Iona tells how he, hearing of this dreadful practice, went to Ireland, called an assembly of chiefs and bishops and persuaded them to pass a law, still extant, entitled "Lex innocentium," which forbade the summoning of women to war. It seems likely, however, that they still turned out of their free will?Indeed the practice is not yet extinct, by all accounts. At the present day, in Europe, the Montenegrins and their hereditary foes of Albania include the women among their fighting force?or did at any rate a very few years ago?before Prince Nicholas had organized his army. All departments of supply were left to the wives and daughters; also the recovery and transport of the wounded. But when the fighting line was seriously pressed the women re-enforced It. Assuredly they would have followed the old custom, in spite of the prince's reforms, had Austria advanced Into the Black Mountain the other day.?Pall Mall Gazette. LIBERIA. Something About the Self-Governing Negro Colony In Africa. That the British colony of Sierra Leone, on the west coast of Africa, has apparently appropriated some 300 square miles of Liberia's territory, by arbi- | trarily assuming political control over j the country to a point twenty-five miles within the boundary line established by the Anglo-Liberian delimitation of 1903, is not likely to lead to anything more than a brief local unpleasantness during the readjustment. The French colony to the east, known as the Ivory coast, and that to the north, known as French Guinea, have striven from time to time to establish a kind of squatters' right to portions of Liberian territory, and many students / of political geography believe that at J no distant day the little negro repub- j lie, which was established originally i as an asylum of refuge for freed Amer- J lean slaves, is destined to be com- ' pletely absorbed by either or both of J its powerful neighbors. 1 Liberia has enjoyed the status of a ^ sovereign state since 1847, when its j independence was formally recognized / by England, France and Prussia The fl habitable region of the country is a J strip from ten to forty miles wide along A the sliehtlv indented shore line of 350 ] miles. The interior (hinterland) is to- ^ day the wildest and least visited por- 1 tion of Africa, with thicker jungle and I forest than is known to exist anywhere f else upon the continent. Liberia has I no harbors, and at the mouth of each * of its rivers is a sandbar which pre- vents the access of vessels of any considerable draught. Monrovia, the capital, named in honor of President Monroe, which is reached in ten days from Liverpool by monthly and bi-weekly steamers traveling thirteen knots an hour, might by means of break-waters be made a fairly satisfactory port of entry. ;j The governing class in Liberia consists of some 12,000 quasi-American negroes and mulattos, with whom are affiliated about 30,000 native born and native bred "civilized" Llberians. The wilder tribes of the interior, it is estimated, include about 2,000,000 descendants of the aborigines. The AmericoLiberian settlers keep to the seacouat and the mouths of the two most important rivers. r The rainfall averages about 100 inches per annum (Philadelphia 41, Pittsburg 36?the average rainfall of the globe being the same as the figures for Pittsburg, while the wettest place on earth, in southwestern Assam, has a rainfall of 610 Inches.) The rainy season begins in May, ending in November. The hottest month of the year is December and the coolest is August. The temperature sometimes drops to 56 deg. and sometimes goes as high as 105 deg., but as a rule the range is between 75 deg. at night and 100 deg. at noon. The American commission which has just visited Liberia to report upon conditions there is headed by a Phlladelphian. Dr. Roland Post Falkner. Dr. Falkner obtained his early education in the public schools of this city, was graduated from the university of Pennsylvania in 1885, and was from 1891 to 1900 an associate professor in the Wharton School of Finance and Commerce.?Philadelphia Public Ledger. ! Unforeseen Obstacle. "I have arranged everything." As she looked up trustingly into his yes, the young and beautiful girl's t< iand stole confidingly into that of her W storiished lover. "Everything!" he exclaimed. "Yes. dear. I went frankly to fath- s r and told him the whole story, how n k-e first met, who you are, and, Indeed, p .11 the circumstances; and he made a lot the slightest objection. Then I o k-ent to mother and told her the same hing, and she said that she was very ;lad. So, dear, there Is nothing more h o worry about." o He looked at her vaguely. Ii "Didn't you tell me," he said n loarsely, "that your father would o robably get mad at the first mention d f our love, and try to throw me downtairs?" "I think I intimated something like y hat." g "And didn t you tell me that your a nother would probably go off Into hys-1 T Everything LOOKS 1 if the water is softened ar creased by the addition of Lavai "H Soft an* i Woolens wash soft, fluffy and fresh do not fade, delicate fabrics are \ done in half die time. Use LA\ of soap, and to dean woodwc It's a big help. Get a package ,Uk far it at Qraeart and DrauitU la it and toe Taekattt LAVADURA CHEMICA [ T\ | Do You |1 I Know It | a ! ji I Requires 4 S ! f | j to 6 Years 11 I I p 5" to build a Stieff or 8Haw piano, f p ( from the time we place the lum- A tj I ber in our lumber yard* until I < ? the piano is finished? We air- y t i dry all our lumber and that is d one reason why our pianos are A u so thoroughly good. I p The Lumber j ?. In about two-thirds rf the pla- * ^ nos made Is In virgin forests Ti less than twelve months before \ ? they are finished ready to sell. I They are made out of kiln dried y t( lumber and this is the principal a ? reason they will not stand and A tJ are so unsatisfactory after a w a few years. One piano in a life- y a time is enough and if that _ ? piano is a 8TIEFF it will. f <; WRITE TODAY X CHAS. M. STIEFFII Manufacturer of the ^ Stieff and Shaw, the Pianos 5 h a sl with the Sweet Tone J a Is SOUTHERN WAREROOM. * 61 5 W. Trade St. X CHARLOTTE N. C. j C. H. WILMOTH, 5i 1 Manager. d Mention this paper. ? ^ TH^^ DARJ^ CORNER EVERYBODY WHO IS AN BODY WHO WANTS TO ] EITHER READ OR THEY THE "DARK CORNEP As descriptive of the conditions CORNER" Is all right; but as descrl tended to accomplish and the actual name is a misnomer. "The Searchl of the Gropers," would be a more c< too long. But don't gather the idea that 1 lecture that you are asked to read, of thrilling Interest from cover to co nr wnman has ever read It vet Wit! far out of proportion to the cost?O. W. S. GORDON, - If Those Who Are Unable to Bu Friends. srics and refuse positively ever to ?t me enter the house again?" "Something of the sort, dearest." "And didn't you give me to undertand that we would probably have to a leet clandestinely, and that In all robability we would have to elope nd take the chances afterward of the Id folks' forgiveness?" She smiled wlnningly. "Yes, dear; but Just think of It It as all been arranged so nicely, withut one of my forebodings coming true. m tideed. I may say that father and lother are both delighted. Now, the nly question is when to fix the wedIng day." But the young man shook his head. "I'm awfully sorry, to disappoint ? ? " V? - ooid "hilt T rwiigxaa T'<l UU, oaiu, MMV * OUV0O A U UCllCI o home and think this over. You are II a little bit too anxious to gret me!"? it-Bits. You Wash SETTER id its cleansing power ? a few spoonfuls of dura !h* Watt" without shrinking, colored goods inh armed?and your washing's /ADURA in dishwater instead rk, marble, porcelain tubs, etc. to-day and try it J Pat LAVADUKA In the water when yon hatha. Very refreebliy-aad ramorea pcraptiatton odors and dawtraf. X CO. Look Before ^ou Leap? The record of the Mutual Benefit ,lfe Insurance Company, covering a eriod of 64 years, shows that It haa iever failed to give each policy holder , square deal while living and his esate or beneficiaries the same kind of reatment after his death. Following ? one of the numerous incidents in its areer, and was related by Mr. Q. E. Slack one of the company's general , gents for the territory embracing St * iouls, Mo., at a meeting of the cornany* a general agents held In Chicao last month: "Many of our older agencies can oubtless duplicate our experience at he St Louis office several years ago, > rhlch I will tell as nearly as possible . | 3 the words of my good friend and artner, who vouches for its authenIcity: "Several years ago a gentleman apeared at the office and laid down hree policies?$6,000 'Class A,' $3,000 Dlass B,' and $12,000 ordinary life, on he life of his father who had Just led. He said he had read the policies, d nderstood that the first two were aid-up, and worth their face, but with a long-drawn sign; uuu uu> ther having lapsed several years be3re, was worthless. He had read the itter policy carefully, and being a A iwyer had Interpreted the terms cor- ^ ectly. (The Life policy was of the Isue Qf 1868.) A sufficient time havig been given to allow the lmpreeslon 3 soak in, he was given a Blank Proof f Loss, and the suggestion was made hat he include the $12,000 in his claim, nd It would be paid. He was naturlly perplexed at this, and the explaation being given, he said feelingly, for he was a half-owner In the lnu ranee), this Is very generous! He 'as promptly reassured on this point, nd it was made clear that the officers f the MUTUAL BENEFIT had no uthorlty to be 'generous' with the ompany's funds, but that it was an lustration of a very fair article of jstlce, and an exemplification of d trict mutuality." No other company In business would ave paid the policy voluntarily, under imllar circumstances. You do not need to know anything bout Insurance in order to get all that ; coming to you under a Mutual Ben- J fit contract ^ Look before you leap. It will cause )rrow and vain regrets if you leap rst and then look. SAM M. GRIST, 8pecial Agent. ^ CLOTHES CLEAldHo! W AM prepared to clean gentlemen's . clothes and ladles' skirts In a tboraghly satisfactory manner, at rea>nable prices. Work may be sent dt>ct to my home or left at W. E. Fer- I uson's store. _ Mrs. R. B. McCliAIN. THE DARK CORNER. I THE DARK CORNER, H THE DARK CORNER. THE DARK CORNER. THE DARK CORNER. H THE DARK CORNER. B THE DARK CORNER. 9 THE DARK CORNER. S THE DARK CORNER. THE DARK CORNER. B THE DARK CORNER. THE DARK CORNER. ? THE DARK CORNER. B THE DARK CORNER. B THE DARK CORNER. H THE DARK CORNER. B THE DARK CORNER. * YBODY AND EVERYBE SOMEBODY, HAS ARE GOING TO READ ft * 1 it portrays, the name "DARK iptive of the purpose it was inresults that It Is attaining, the ight of Truth on the Pathway ( )mprehensive name were it not t Is a dull sermon or a curtain Far from it The book is full ver. It's a love story. No man hout deriving benefit that was NLY $1.00 A COPY. - Yorkville, S. C. y Should Borrow From Their 1