The Dillon herald. (Dillon, S.C.) 1894-????, July 14, 1910, Image 3
pf ? *
THE 9)
The world from the darkness aw
i Swung into the light of the n??
Each actor at once advanced to And
the ploy win on.
From the heights of heaven, fror
Onlookers follow the drama of
But how it will end, is there one
k t Shall Right or shall Wrong, fr
Receive, when emerging from de?
The final applause when the tit
Tragedy, nnywav, howe'er it goc<
And the Play goes on.
Arrayed lor battle, vast armies i
With pomp and splendor, proi
Moans of the downtrodden rise t
Groans of the serf and the sla'
Still tyrannical might and the lu
Still the rich oppress, as in ag?
Still the poor are grinding in mi
And the Play goes on.
Th# rvnir <rnn? hp udf U Ki- -???
f -v The fool sella his soul for n ba
n L. Men love and men hate: angels ^
Over hearts that are breaking
There are births, there are deatl
Go down to the vale, where thi
There is joy by the cradle and gi
And the Play goes on.
And ever the watchers will hope
While the wonderful drama of
Till the curtain falls and the lijrl
And the play :s done.
?James L.
^ i f"T*11l I til QB ' r*J '' st s 3 hi cm
! Mrs. Glenfiel*
v.1
3~M
I l*/r HC:XN forr
NkOB ? ! si .i' i BBD amBB
"It's no use talking," said Mrs. 1
Glenfield. energetically. "Poor? Yes, ! di
I dare say he's poor; but so am I | bl
poor. I need the money for my rent,
and this is six weeks he's behind. Go
to his room, Ernestine, and take the M
bill; it's high time the money was
paid." s:
Mrs. Glenfield was a sharp-nosed, it
long-featured matron, whose face, a
originally pleasant enough, had
grown sharp and acid with years of bi
weary struggling to make both ends ni
meet. A widow who keeps a New T
York boarding house has plenty of bi
opportunity to look on the shady hi
side of things, and Mrs. Glenfield. sc
somehow, found herseir growing misanthrop'cal
as she grew older. lc
Ernestine, her oldest daughter, "I
took the proffered slip cf paper,
somewhat volnotsnllv
.?.Mv?uuvi,<, uUU ? CU I SiUff" I
ly upstairs with it.
She was a slight, small creature, j
with 1)right brown eyes, hair of soft|<"r
chestnut hue. and arch, pretty fea-| ?i
tures." If Ernestine Glen field hadjti
been the petted daughter of a rich
man, her natural advantages set oil J
by swan's-down, silk and jewels, the
world would have pronounced her a
beauty. As it was, with fate and for- hi
tune against her, she even was remarkably
pretty. w
She knocked softly at Sir. Harney's n!
doQr, and a dejected voice answered: lc
"Coma In." n
Ernestine pushed open the door w
and entered.
Wallace Harney sat at the dingily- it
covered table, his head resting on his
hands. The handful or sullen-lookIng
red coal glowed like a vindictive di
eye from the socket of the grate. A
pile of papers, loosely tied together, r:
lay on the table, close to his hand, sl
with an open note, containing the n
"respectfully declined" of some great
publisher, who had never taken the
trouble .to read Wallace Harney's s*
carefully written manuscript. c<
Mr. Harney was a young man, probably
thirty years of age, but he felt ^
much older. He had been fighting Et
destiny all his life, and up to the
present moment he had had the worst r<
of the encounter. No wonder that he
felt almost inclined to despair. s'
He started up, however, at the
light sound of Ernestine's footsteps f<
on the worn carpet. e<
"Miss Glenfleld!" a
"You used to call me Ernestine," "
he said, half laughing. "What makes s<
you so ceremonious now?" |a
"I don't know," he said, vaeuelv. I
pushing the damp hair from his hot
forehead. "Did you want anything
of me?"
* Ernestine colored and hesitated?
then she laid the hill on the table
close to the inexorable editor's note.
Wallace Harney sow It, and his cheek
grew as scarlet as her own.
"Mamma wishes?that Is, she
hopes?'' hesitated poor Ernestine,
who was a very bad hand at deceiv1
ing.
"I see, " said Mr. Harney, " 'your
money or your life'?that is the fashionable
formula nowadays. But If
you happen to have no money, what
? then?"
"I?I am very sorry," s^id ErI.
nestfne, meekly.
; \ "I do not know why you should
be," said Mr. Harney. "It is six
r.wjeeks since I have paid your mother
\ Sfnything. but it is not because 1 have
uot been working hard."
"Mammp's rent cane due last
\ week," said Ernestine, feeling as If
every drop of blood In her body were
turned to liquid fire, "and?oh, Mr.
><4 Harney. I am so sorrv!"
(The 1 fist woids broke from her
lips as she saw the pained look of
Mortification in the young author's
face. Involuntarily she put her hand
in her pocket, and drew out a rustling
/ twenty-dollar hill.
"Uncle Jason gave It to me for a
new dress," she said, "but my old one
\ is good yet?black silk always looks
well, you know, no matter how long
you have worn It. Please, please. Mr.
Harney, take it."
He pushed away her soft little hand
almost Irritably.
"Ernestine!" he cried, passionately,
"i am not yet fallen so low as to
take your little capital."
* ?
LAY.
i depths of space
e-made dawn;
bis place,
n the pits of he'.l,
Life;
' can tell?
om turmoil nrd strife
ith struggle throes,
got u won?
laas by;
id nation* appear;
o the ?kv.
re smite the ear,
st of spoil;
>s gone;
lis of toil,
ful sneer;
uble to wear;
veet>, devils jeer_
witii shame or despair.
as: the knight and the knave
e dank graves yawn;
fief by the grave,
or doubt.
Life goes <>n,
tits are out,
Kluerd.ee, in The Theatre Magazine. J
CT3 n e-TT ?. .t M - .?-* -r-s r jirjm u-31 . 3 ?i
Vs Boarder* 1j
r
K8T C;ravi:S. fl
am RX9?EscaoaBC3i7
"But you will pay me back some
ly," she urged, stll holding out the
111.
"I would rather r.ot risk it."
"Then let uie give it to you. Oh.
t. Harney, please!"
He looked up in her face with a
trdonic sort of laugh?the soft, pityig
light in her eyes seemed to strike
new chord in his heart.
"I will not take it, Ernestine; but,
slieve me, it has done me just as
inch good as if I had spent It all.'
ell your mother I cannot pay her
ill, but che is welcome to my poor
"longings here. They will sell for
>mething, at least, when I am gone."
"Mr. Harney," cried Ernestine,
ioking up with wistful surprise,
fou are not goi^S away?"
- i es.
" Where?"
"To the river, the railroad track.
iy lonely, desolate place, where 1
121 end a life that has hitherto been
I no use to myself or any one else,
lat I can see."
"And leave me?"
"Ernestine, St cannrf be possible
\at you care for me."
"Eut 1 do* Wallace," she owned,
ttlf laughing;, half embarrassed.
S'ow take my advice; it may be
orth something, even though I am
othing but a girl. Wai?_ a little
inger, trust in Providence, and relember
that there is one, at least,
ho cares for you."
"Ernestine, my little darling. But
is of no use." he faltered, dropping
le soft palm he had taken. "Hush!
tere is a lcncck at the door?more
uns, 1 suppose."
It was a letter which the little ertnd
girl threw into the room as if
le too, fully appreciated Mr. Harey's
social and financial status In
le establishment.
"Miss Tiny," she cried, tartly, as
lie did so, "your ma wants you to
>me right down stairs d'reckly."
But Ernestine, for once in her life
isrespectful of the maternal behest,
ooped to pick up the letter and hand
to Mr. Harney before she left the
iom.
"Perhaps it is good news," she said,
xiiling archly, and then went away.
Mrs. Glenfieid was all impatience
ir her return down stairs; she wanti
to send her to the dressmaker's
bout a dress which was to have been
one, and wasn't done. And the con
.-itMii-e-sincKen aame of sewing-silk 1
nd scissors sui down at once to put
nrooMtntavMVitKdii
"I AM FOR ANTI-Ti
:: ?CHAI
2" As one of the Justices ol
Court. Charles E. Hughes will
Oil Company and the Americai
combinations and whether the;
? Federal Anti-Trust act. For
captains of finance have been v
n on these two cases, so thai
whether to go forward or bac
J* or strengthening those already
9 In a speech he delivered at
100U. Charles E. Hughes showi
22 he stood on the subject of trusl
mm "We do not want anythii
business enterprise. We don't
22 terfere with investments to
We don't want to make it dill
?2 ment. But, on the other hand,
mm to'' uuyliody or for any set t
other people front ItMviitg perl
*2 We want to end discrimination
mm "1 ant for the anti-trust r
combinations by which people i
22 Ket to markets and by which i
ucttiiii; alone. I Ix-lli'ii. in <i?
of inuking it absolutely iniposs
25 those measures which are take
competitor in this country.
mm "There are two ways of lo
52 One way is to see how much >
of and how much you can gath
in every possible way, beating
gripping and squeezing the last
of them; that's one way, and it
25 way is to go through life witl
ability, if you have talent to
? capacity to launch a new ente
25 1" >'ou have capacity for any gr
are the responsibilities upon yi
22 tunity to be of service to your
2? "We are nil together here
mm ourselves up in classes if we I
22 K? down together. We wa
are all together."
I
ob tfae finishing touches, and so it wai
quite dark before Ernestine again
reached home.
"What do you suppose has hai>pened?"
said Mrs. Glenfleld, meeting
her daughter at the door.
"I don't know," said Ernestine.
"Becky has broken another piece out
of the china set. I suppose."
Mrs. Glenfleld shook her head.
"Mr. Harney has gone."
"Gone! Where?"
"The dear knows?I don't. Pa!d
his bill and gave Biddy a quarter for i
herself, over and above. And he has !
gone." I
Ernestine's cheeks flamed up. and I
then grew pale. .Gone! after what
she had owned to him that very morn- 1
ing. Gone! without leaving any fare- 1
well word or message for her! Well, 1
it served her right for so far forgetting
her womanly reserve and maid- 1
enly dignity as she had done. And '<
poor little Ernestine went moping '
about the house for a dr..v or two, <
looking the mere shadow of her for- !
mer self.
At the end of three days Mr. Harney
came back.
"Are you glad ;o see me. Er- <
nestine?" 1
"I don't know," the little damsel 1
answered, demurely. "! dare say j
mamma wit" be very happy to hear 1
how you are getting on." i
"1 should like to see her," said Mr.
Harney, and Ernestine went to cul!
Mrs. Glen field. <
"1 have come to ask a great favor
of you. madam," he said, as the wornlooking
hoarding house keeper came
into the room.
Mrs. Glenfleld shrank into herself,
as it were.
"If it's lending money?" she began,
rather dubiously.
"But it is uot," said Mrs. Harney,
with an amused sparkle In his eyes.
"It is a much greater favor than that.
I want you to give me your daughter,
Mrs. Glenfleld."
"But you cau't support her," quoth
the downright widow.
"I can, if two hundred thousand
dollars will do it, I have a brownstone
house ready to receive her. and
you. too, if you will honor us by being
our guest."
Mrs. Glenfleld stared at her visitor
as if he were speaking the Sanscrit
language. Ernestine uttered a little
cry of astonishment.
"it is true," Mr. Harney smilingly
asserted, turnine to tho un-] Vnn
remember that letter you save me?
It was the legal notification of the
death of a distant relative, whose
very existence I was almost unaware
of. I was his only heir, and his decease
has made me, all of a sudden,
a wealthy man. Ernestine, you owned
that you loved me, when I was a poor
man: you will not withdraw your
precious heart now that I am unexpectedly
rich?"
And what did Ernestine answer?
We leave the reader to guess. But
Mrs. Glenfield's boarding house was
closed at once, and the pearl of Ernestine's
beauty is properly set at
last.?New York Weekly.
Liettcr Censorship.
In Russia one letter in every ten
passing through the post is opened
by the authorities as a matter of
course. Indeed the postal authorities
of every country have experts who
have raised letter opening to a fine
art. Some kinds of paper can be
stea'med open without leaving any
traces, and this simple operation is
finished by reburnishing the flap with
a bone instrument. In the case of a
seal a matrix is taken by means of
new bread before breaking the wax.
When other methods fail the envelope
is placed between pieces of wood
with edge projecting one-twentieth of
an inch. The edge of the envelope is
first flattened, then roughened and
finally slit open. Lafer a hair line of
an un^ wuiic uiu is apiiut'u unu ine
edges united under pressure.?London
Chronicle.
RUST ACT" ' H
RLES E. HUGHES. :
t the United States Supreme J*
decide whether the Standard
1 Tobacco Company are illegal
y shall be dissolved under the 2*
more than a year the great
raiting for the Court's decision
t they can safely determine
kward in creating new trusts
in existence. * a
Blmira. N. Y., on October 23, mm
id clearly and pointedly where
.9. He said: J*
ig which will interfere with
want anything which will in
give opportunities for labor. ?
ftcult for men to find employ
we do want to make it difficult
r? unite together and prevent mm
ectly fair and just treutment.
i in business.
ict. I am against the unfair
?re deprived of their chance to
nde]H>ndent.s have a hard time
i policy tliat has been adopted
ible for secret agreements, for
n to put down the independent ?
uniug ill llllll^h 111 mis worm.
rou can deprive your neighbor
er in for your own enrichment
people down by grasping and JJ
: drop of blood you can get out
is a very poor way. The other
h the notion that if you have JJ
run a business, if you have
rprise and make it successful, JJ*
eat matter, why all the greater
ou because of the great oppor
fellow men.
in the world. We cannot split
try. We have to go up or we
int to realize that in society we
!
PrpiCURErAN'S,
POTATO SOL'P.
Wash, peel and cut four medium
sized potatoes into small pieces, cover
with cold water, salted, and cook until
done. Have ready a pint of milk
scalded in a double boiler, together
with a tablespoon of minced onion
snd a little celery or celery seed to
flavor. Take the potatoes from the
[Ire, turn off the water and mash,
rhlcken the milk with a tablespoonFul
of flour, then add to the potato
and mix. Add a tablespoonful of fine
minced parsley and serve with erackprs
or croutons.?New York Tele
;rnm.
RICE AND TOMATOES.
Rent together ope egg arrd '>alf a
npful of milk. Stir in a cupful of
boiled rice. Add a teaspoon fill of
butter and season with salt and pepper.
Let the mixture simmer for a
few minutes: then drain tin rice, line
a dish with it. wash it over with a
beaten ess and put it into the oven
until firm. Strain half a can of toma?->es,
season with salt, cayenne pepper
and half a finely chopped onion.
Stew for twenty minutes. Then stir
in a tablespoonful of butter and two
tablespoonfuls of bread crumbs. Let
simmer until thick and pour into the
centre of the rice moid.?New York
Tribune.
MACARONI AND CHESTNUTS.
Peel and boil a dozen bis; chestnuts
and pound them to a paste. Season
with a saltspoonful of salt and put
them into a saucepan with two oupfuls
of boiled macaroni, chopped; two
tablespoonfuls of butter and one large
onion peeled but not chopped. Stir
the whole together until well mixed
and heated: moisten, if necessary,
with a little milk. When perfectly |
hot. remove the onion and put the I
macaroni and chestnuts into a buttered
baking dish, cover with bread
crumbs and grated chc-e?e in equal
quantities and brown in the oven.?
New York Tribune.
STEWED RAUDIT.
Wash and soak the rabbit. Wipe
it thoroughly dry and divide it at the
jojnts. Sprinkle it thickly with Hour.
Place in a stewpan with two heaping
tablespoonfuls of butter and three
or four thin slices of ham. Pour on
little by little a quart of gravy.
S*ew the meat over a slow fire for
two hours. Season with half a tea
spoonful of salt. Add to it the rind
of half a lemon, cut into small bits.
A quarter of an hour before serving
stir in a teaspoonful of rice flour that
has been mixed with two tablespoonfuls
of mushroonr catsup and a half
teaspoonful of cayenne pepper.?
Eoston Post.
PLAIN ONION SOUP.
This is wholesome and "tasty."
Slice two or three large onions and
fry yellow in butter or clarified drippings.
When soft add three tablespoonfuls
Hour and stir until cooked
and frothy. Now add slowly a pint
of boiling water, stirring until smooth
and slightly thickened. Have ready
three potatoes boiled and mashed and
add to them a quart of milk that has
been brought just to the scalding
point. Put the potato and onion mixture
together, season with salt and
pepper, let it get hot. then press
through a strainer into a hot tureen.
Sprinkle over the top a little parsley
minced fine and a handful crisp croutons.?New
York Telegram.
A small camel's hair brush will
quickly and without irritation remove
a cinder or other foreign substance
from the eye.
To clean a pot: Put one-half a tea
spoon of soda in it, fill with hot
water, let stand half a day or over
night, cleans very easily.
The arrangement of a mirror so
that a child can see itself at play will
oftentimes prove as amusing to a
child as a playmate.
When sweeping a room which has
a heavy old-fashioned dresser in it,
remove the lower drawer and sweep
under with a whisk broom.
If you wish to prevent raisins, citron
or currants from sinking to the
bottom of your cake, have them well
warmed in the oven before adding to
the batter.
When you fry fish, and the fat gets
boiling hot, before you put the fish in.
sprinkle a little salt on the bottom
of the pan; you may then turn the
fish without breaking.
Afttfr you have washed lamp chimneys
tie paper bags over each chimney.
Be sure the bags are clean before
you put theilS on. Pin the bag
tightly around the bottom.
For quickly cleaning silver, put in
kettle one tablespoonful of potash,
eight quarts of cold water. Dissolve
potash. Put in silver. Set on the
stove and let come to boil, then take
off. Rinse well; wipe.
When you place irons on the stove
to heat, put' a brick over the fire.
The brick is used as a Iron stand. It
will save many trips to the stove and
hack; being hot it l.eeps the irons
warm much longer than a common
stand. As each fresh iron is placed
on the brick, it renews its heat.
I
\
Si " I afri II Mr fill 111!' i
v
- *or
M3^b* rou
V Chil
PORTRAITS.
When Thoinps.cn takes inv photograph
there's always such a fuss.
My dress must be so stitT and clean, my
curls 1 must not muss.
And when we reach the galler, we stay
a dreadful while!
lie puts a clamp against my head, and asks
me please to aiml".
lie stands me up. and "poses" me. and
tries this way and thnt:
Then mother says sheU like just one with
muiY and eoat and hat: ,,
Aud then she starts to fix my hair in quite
another way.
And I get cross and crosser, 'cause 1 want
to go and play.
Rut now an artist's painting me. and that's
t he worst of all:
I'd rather have a tooth pulled out, or go
to make a call!
Why, even Thompson's gallery 1 shouldn't
mind a bit;
For here there's no: a thing to do but
sit ? and si: - and sp !
?Annie \\ illi? .McLullougli, 1:1 !?t. Nicholas.
T-ITTLE IJKSSIK'S WISH.
Bfssie and 1 illio were awfully lonely.
Their tnatnnia had cone from
home the day before and left them in
charge of a very aged aunt. And
this aged aum ?hv name. Aunt Maltha?
would not aln?." Bessie and
Billic to make any noise while at
play, for she said "children's noises,
cats fighting and dogs barking drove
her clean distracted." So, you will
readily understand that Bessie and
Billie could not enjoy their play verj
much while their mamma was away.
"We can play in the attic." wills
pered Bessie to Billie, as they sal
very quietly in the sitting room aftei
breakfast. Aunt Martha was sittin;
there also, darning a very long ant
very heavy woolen stocking. "If \v<
want to play gliost or fairy up then
Aunt Martha can't hear us."
"What are you whispering about?
asked Aunt Martha, turning he
sharp eyes toward the eorner when
the six-year-old niece and eight-year
old nephew sat like tortured lilt!
mice, fearing to move lest the old ca
might gobble them up. "What ar
you whispering about? Can't vo
speak aloud? Nobody is going to ea
you! Come, who was doing the wliis
poring? 1 dislike to hear whispers
they tickle my ears like a feathc
wigging about in them. One onl
hears sounds and can't make out th
words."
"1 whispered to brother that w
might play in the attic," confesse
Bessie. We won't bother you. Au:i
Martha, if we're up there."
"But it's as cold as the North Pol
up there, child." said Aunt Martini
' However, a smile of agreablenes
played about the sharp corners o
her mouth as she said this, for th
truth is she thought it a good idei
for "the vexatious youngsters" to pla;
somewhere a long way from her. Shi
had not been a child for sixty years
and had forgotten all about the!
needs and desires. But, if you wan
to play there for half an hour, why
go up and do so. But mind, no turn
bling down on the door, or shrieking
or laughing too loudly."
"I'd like to stay till mamma come!
home," whispered Billie to Bessie, a:
they crept along the hall toward th(
stair. And up the steps they wenl
like little culprits, fearing lest theii
tiny feet might make a noise to dis
turb the aged aunt below stairs, whe
was communing thug to her stocking:
"Children are a dreadful bother. 1
am thankful I don't have to put uj
with 'em very much longer. Theii
mother ought to be home some tim<
to-morrow. And she, silly woman
thinks those two noisy, bad-man
nered little brats are angels. If the:
run and scream like wild Indians
she laughs and says: 'Bless m;
babies! Just see how happy they are.
Babies! Ugh, six and eight! Ough
to be put at books and work ever;
hour of the day. They fool away val
uable time playing with toys am
reading foolish fairy tales. So fey
people knew how to raise children
Hard as It would be, I'd like to tak<
those two children in hand and shov
iucn jj*xrciiL2> wiitti migai uc maue o
them."
Meanwhile, Bessie and Billie hat
reached the attic, closed the door tc
keep inside all their noise, and openet
their mouths and cried, "Goody
goody! It's so nice to get away Iron
Aunt Martha!"
"What shall we play?" asked Bil
l!e. "Shall we play ghost?"
"Ugh, no! It's so scary, brother
The attic is so dark and I'd get sc
frightened I'd hide and cry. Let's
play fairy.''
"All right, sister, let's play fairy,
Who'll be the fairy?you or I?"
"You be the fairy, brother, and
play 'at I'm a little girl what's lost in
the big forest, and, ar.d 'at I'm crying
for my mamma."
"All right," said Billie, "I'll play
that I'm in a tree and when you come
along under it I look down and see
you crying, and I'll ask you, 'What's
the matter, little girl?' and you must
say. 'Oh, I'm lost in the forest, and
can't And my mamma. And the bears
are about, and a big snake is undei
the boulders, and I don't know where
to go. Oh, please, good fairy, help
me.' "
"Oh, that will be such great fun,"
cnea Bessie, clapping her handB.
I "And now, let's begin."
Bessie walked along beside the box
dropped down upon the floor, and bej
gan her pretense of crying. "Ah, little
girl, what is the matter?" asked
Billie. "Car 1 do anything for you?"
"Yes, good fairy, I'm lost in the
forest and a big bear wants to eat
fc ^f^a t , a, * _'.1b - fr'Ai Wfr*.
finp ___ v .
t me, and a big snake wants to bite my
J big toe. And I can't find nay matumu. 9
Will you help me, good fairy?"
"Yes. make a wish, and I shall
grant It," replied Billie.
"Well, good fairy, I want my dear
mamma. ' replied Bessie, and her
voice trembled a bit as she said this,
for she voiced her dearest wish iu
very truth as well as In play.
Billie waved his wand, saying,
"Wave. wand, for luck. \Vav~ wave,
to help those in distress Wave,
wand, and keep the bear from eating
her. Wave, wand, and strangle tho
snake before it bites her big toe. '
Wave. wand, and find her mother for
her. for that is her dearest wish."
"Ah. bless my babies, what aro
tin y doing in this cold ai'.ic?" And
| to the supreme delight of Bessie and
! Billie their mother came into tho
attic and had them in her arms, kissing
and hogging them nn'il they
could scarcely get their br-nth. And
when at la t tliev could supuk. Bessie
I
said. "Mamma. Billie made the bestI
est fairy in the world. "le brought.
I von to mo, my dearest w?Wash"
i inston Star. 'V.
TIIR OTTRH
In the Washington Zoological Park,
j down next the beavers' quarters, are
' two otters. People going to the brook
1 during the day must content themselves
looking at the otters, for the
beavers sleep all day. and do their
work after sunset. The otters are
1 always out. playing like kittens. Of1
i ten the visitors call them beavers.
: but they would never again do so it
' they could contrast the two animals.
- Their point of closest similarity eon2
sists in spending much of their time
in the water. The otter is darker
brown and is a much more slender
r animal. In fact, with its thick whise
kers, it looks not unlike a cat as it
tiwi m e n Unn u- U It 1 ?? ???*
e water, says the Churchman,
t When it drags its body upon the
e hank one sees that the leas are shortit
er than a rat's, and the tail, which is
t broad ar.d stroma, is flattened more
?- like a beaver's. It is unlike the beaver's
in tapering toward the end. for
i' it does not nceJ to use its tail as a
>' mason's trowel, as the beaver does.
In reality the otter is a very distinct
creature, not like any other anc
imnl. It is found all over the world,
d and is much alike in all places. The
t points of difference are not unlike the
difference which exist between men
e in different parts of the world, being
l. mainly variations in color and si~e
s They are much prized by trappers i
f their fur, those of Labrador and Ci.ue
ada being especially beautiful,
a Once there were a great many oty
ters in England, but the little creae
tures were too fond of fish to please
i, the fishermen, so otter hunting with
r dogs became a fashionable sport,
t Hounds especially trained for that
, purpose hunted down and brought the
- otter to bay, and they were killed
, with long spears carried by the hunters.
In India and China the animal's
? fondness for fish has been turned to
t good account. In the former coun;
try it has been taught to drive fish
t into nets, while in China the otter is
r allowed to go into the stream to catch
- fish and is then drawn out by means
> of a rope held on shore. This is a
very satisfactory way of getting fish.
t as the animal never eats its prey un>
til it reaches shore, and thus it is ser
cured in a perfect state.?Newark
; Call. _
' CAMPING.
* A week or two before the Easter
vacation a friend and 1 decided it
' would he great sport to use the first
three days for camping somewhere.
( The best place we could think of near
the city and yet away from "civillza'
tion" was a small island a few hunj
| dred feet from the shore of l.ong Island
Sound, just south of New Ro?
k ehelle. By good luck a cousin of mine
' who camps out in summer had a tent,
two cots and cooking utensils, which
k he was glad to let us have. In the
way of food we took a dozen eggs
carefully wrapped, soma bacon, lard,
and canned iacuts and vegetables.
| We also took our rifles along, four
hundred bullets and fishing tackle.
' On the first day (Monday) we ar?
1 rived at New Rochelle at about 9.30
o'clock, and soon had our outfit
stored in a good sized rowboat which
belonged to my friend. In fifteen
minutes the boat grated on a small
' sandy beach of the island we were to
' occupy. After fastening the noat we
found a good place for the tent, set
it up and found a safe corner for our
supplies. Tho fun we had for the
1 next three days would nearly fill a
1 book, and therefore I cannot say
: | much about it. We shot at targets
and floating bottles, caught flsh and
had them at our meals, and ou the
' whole had the time of our lives.?.
George Cooper, in the New York Tri?
1 bune. *
1 Robin's Xcst in Railroad Van,
J In a fold of the canvas covering
of the Great Eastern Railway deliv!
ery van at Billericay a robin has built
1 her nest and laid three eggs. Nest
and eggs of course go the rounds
with the van for about ten hours
daily and the bird returns to the nest
when the van reaches the yard agala
at night.?Westminster Gazette.
More than 4 00,000 persons eml?
I grated from this country during ths
' year 1907. This is a much smaller
i number than shown by the prjvior.9 \
: l ear.