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Bloodless Conflict T 8 o'clock, of a lovely night b, tnUlsuintuer, In one of the upper rooms of the prin cipal hotel at Mt. Desert, | atooA ii girl If raire and wonderful beauty, donning ner a^tpor cor Qie coming fray?ou imor whose breastplate was invisible, tvhose weapons were bidden, but none the Iqss impenetrable and keen for that. * Her maid bad put the finishing touches to a toilet of most artistic loveliness. Iler deep blue eves were black witb excitement and triuu.ph. Three night* before she had received * challenge?1:01 an openly-worded t^hallcnge. but fully und.'rstoow for all that. Of course she bad accepted, though her accept a oce was tactic, too; but she ami Jack Raymond understood It, and each other. No m jrt was nec essary. Tbey ro<]uired no witnesses among the world. She had met him only a week before. She had not known hhu ton minutes before she felt he was one of the few whose friendship she would be glnd to possess - nay. more, whom she would feel pride lu bringing within the scope of her power. Of course she would escape herself; of that she had no passing doubt. She bad .played with lire too long to fear its scorching now. She was already iu her twenty-second year, aud number less as were her victims, no one of them possessed a single trophy of; even, a momentary triumph. \vby. then, need she fear to add a fresh name to ?1 tly / > t ; j V Vou have a heart? I should like to 8 make 4t s|tf!" ? "Thll hlld been Ac challenge, spoken In low, earnest tones, heard only by herself and the listening moon sailing in its awakening beauty iu the ether above their heads. -Is It in youi sight so poor a thing you wish to make of it a toy?" she bad answered, flashing one bewildering glance into his down-bent face. it to me but for an liom and see tht use that I would put it to. You will net willingly, I know, but I mean to make the struggle for its posses sion." "You would glory in my defeat, then?" "Yes, If you choose to call It by that j name. Most women would call it vic tory, since for all so grudgingly given i I return to you tenfold.** It was a strange, a novel way of tooolng, and it held a fascination of Us own. Most men had approached her ns suppliants, carefully hiding their mode of attacl^jjpon the citadel of her af fection, Mjt she should bee and fortify " ""boldly asserted not only fet latighed to scorn her te lifa proud confidence that tfrt ^%ra * hlcb so lone had floated to ? freS Mveces of heaven would lower themselves iu obeisance before him. It was nonsense, of course. It was audacity unparalleled 011 bis part; but It was audacity most charming, and Ethel Marcos felt a Uttle premonitory shiver $n through her Teins, which would have warned her already of danger, bad she known or recognized It. Alas! her greatest danger was In her perfect security. She totscd a little triumphant smile at her cwn reflection in tlie mirror, and with It still lingering about the perfect pose-red Hps. rnn lightly down the ?talrs. At the foot ho awaited her coming. How sure she had beeu that ?he would And him there! "Do you know that our waits is balf flnlshed?" he asked, in low tones of! reproach. "Do you know that I have begrudged every moment of which you have robbed me?" "I have robbed myaetf equally," was the low-murmured reply. "Cannot tbat plead q>yH pardon?" "For What could yon sue at my hands I would not grant?" he answered. "Remember those words." she said. ??Some day I may remind you of them." The nefct moment they were in the merry mate of dancers. But thrice had they floated through the room, when the music ceased. Drawing her hand within bis arm, they stepped out upon the piazza. The moon wns almost at Its full. It ?mited Upon them most gracious wel come. He spoke no word, but she could feel the earnest gaze of his dark eyes fixed upon her face, compelling her own at length to meet them. What wonderful eyes they were! now full of strength, and tenderness, ?nd loving purpose! She felt hot blood rush to her cheeks ?a commingled sense of pleasure and of pain, yet the latter almost sweeter than the former. A faint glimmering pf prtwlble danger In this Instance of ?Hence dawned upon her; a faint breath from a flre with which she might not pluy. A little shiver passed over her. , Tire man saw It and spoke. ,M*Are you cold?" he questioned. "No," she said. "I am afraid it was a little tremor of cowardice. 1 fear, as a duelist, you are too strong for me." "I wish I might be. Suppose you !ay down your wcni>ons, then, and trust to my generosity?" "I prefer to trust to that and my food steel, too. How like a man, to wish the itlo&v of conquest without *thr bru|t df b|ttle!" ^ "No?foif mistake me; It Is because I know the battle will be so fierce and long that 1 wish to save us both the ?ears of many wounds " "Ah," Alio cfcplled, %l0i a Httlc. low trilling llugh. "Use Oils most wonder ful io?sJfleraftoH, I pray. tor yaurself. tiook at me!" upraising bet face, the moonlight failing full upon its almost flawless beauty. "Can you see any glgnt of former sears 1* "None!" he answered; "but, by the bearen above us. yon shall yet ac knowledge one wound, which, if it ( ieave no tear, is only because It refund to healr ? Again she shuddered, and again a pain, which yet was keenest pleasure, smote her heart ? V I The days glided on. The moon fulled and waned. A month bad passed since Jack Raymond had ffofag down the gauntlet, and she, with fearless fingers, bad stooped and 'incited it up. A month! but what had It brought to them both? No longer they jested as beforo?no longer they spoke of tri umph or defeat; yet each knew their blades were crossed, and they them selves in the hottest of the fight. August was Hearing its close. The pleasant summer was almost at an end. '?The winter soon will be here," said Et!ie'. as they sauntered together, late or.:>ilcrnoon. upon the cliffs, with the sea lashing Itself far below them into white.? impotent foam. ?44Are you sorry ?" "1 have not thought of it," he re plied. Tlie next moment the girl clapped her hands. "Oh, look!" she exclaimed. "The new moon. Let us wish!" An Instant they stood silent, regard ing the pale crescent far above them. "What was your wish?** she ques tioned. "That you would ordain that for me there should be no winter, but an eter U?l, glorious summer," he answered, enwir-stiy, turning and taking both her hands. It had come, then. She had seen It from afar; yet Its coming found her all unprepared to meet it. Her very soul was in chaos. She had lost the power to think or reason. "I?what hare I to do with changing the seasons?" she stammered, at last, with a littie, embarrassed laugh. "Ethel, do not trifle! Must I tell the wonderful fascination you have exer cistMl over me from the first moment <?f our meeting? Is the road to your heart so long, so hard a one. Uiat, after all my struggle, I have missed m> way V" ;>v How subtly sweet were his words! One moment she was tempted to up lift I lie lovely eyes and let him read bis answer; the next, she steeled her self against it. He had boldly prophesied thlirf%ay? not thus should bis prophecy be ful filled. Were he earnest, the future would tell It; were he jesting, the jest should not be at her expense. ?'Has the play grown monotonous, that you would ring the curtain down so soon?" she said. "What do you maaaPMfetMfced. "I-I have enj^tt sftmuStliat I nlmoat h^te -M ||gve It fc V she an *\ver#d. *Yo? a&a capital actor, Mf. K.'iymond/* ., ill? grasp tightened on her arm? his face grew very white." "Dare you tell me you have been only acting, Ethel? Unsay those words! I love you. darling! Have jrou no return for me?" Again she hesitated. Could It be love which was tugging at her heart strings love which tempted her to lay down her weapons, snd declare defeat sweeter than any victory? Not yet not yet! She looked up In his face; she fancied she detected a little glimmer In his eyes, stern and dark though they were. "Do you know what I wished?" she said, In answer to his question, and pointing to the moon. "I wished iny new dresses, on their way from Paris, might be a success. Worth is so apt to make blunders, nowadays. Let us go In, Mr. Raymond. It is almost tea time, and I am growing hungry." "Certainly!" he answered, haughtily, and in silence they returned to the bouse. But, that evening, Ethel looked for her friend In vain. On going to her room, she fonnd on her table a note. Hastily tearlug It open, she read these lines: "It 1s right tliat you should have the paliu of victory. Freely I accord it you. 1 staked all. and lost. You staked nothing, and won! I loved you?heartless, soulless though you are ?I loved you In the first hour we met. Cods knows I would have striven to prove It to you, even as I shall now strive to wrench It from my heart. Were you at my feet as I a few hours ago was at yours, I would turn your ' prayer to mockery, as you turned mine. My one earnest wish foi your future happiness is that your Parisian toilets j always may prove a success." This, and the signature, were. nil. | Once, twice, thrice, Ethel read and re read the cold, cutting words. "Were you at ray feet, I would turn your prayer to mockery, as you turned mine!" So soon, then, he had ceased to love her, and she?ah, In this moment her punishment had commenced. She had but meant to try a little longet. She had forgotten a man's dlg hlty, a man's love, are not always to be valued at a woman's weak caprice. She had thrust her bare, unprotected hands into the flame, and willed that It should not burn. Now that it had eatoti Its cruel way Into the flesh, she .could not wring them In impotent an guish, knowing that she herself had thrust aside the cool, healing balm which would have brought oblivion of any pain. All night aha lay with wide-open eyes, ftilly dtested as abe had thrown herself upon her couch, nmt the letter ?the first and only letter Jack had ever written her?tightly clasped In her fin ger*. Now and then a sob for ml Its way Upwnrd through the quivering frame. But no tears camel her eyes were dry and burning. Btrnnga! strange! In all her Hfe *he had known no want, no void. Now the future teemed filled with empti ness. I Where were her weapons? Shat tered and useless! Where her armor? already answered by a mocking lie. Ah. already his wounds were heal ing but here he^ifl?aI#- rightly, At would wear no sear, onff 1>i i aaaet huca would not beat ' v ?t last the daj dawned. She watched It break, wondering If any other heart In all the wide world waa aa leaden-welsrbta4gaa her ojnw He should she meet lnrn| Pride must t he I to he Jhc r.usptken J >%M nut deed! She aA her own aoul could keep their secret?aye, and would! But for the present a meeting was spared her. "Mr. Raymond went out at daybreak with the fishermen.** some one volun teered. "It Is a bad day. too, gray and squally.** She felt a sudden fear oppress her. ns they added this: but nonsense! no accident had happen??d all the summer on the coast. By 12 o'clock he surely would hare returned. She took a scat ou the piassa, where she could watch his approach: but the Ions, slow hours wore on, and ahe watched In rain. At 4 o'clock some one came to her and said: "There It* l?eon an accident. Miss Marcus. Hnv?* yon lizard? On* of the flshing-s:nnrks was overturned, and two fishermen and a gentleman drowned. WY fear it may be Mr. Ray mond.** A momentary blackness swept over her. but she conquered It. "Coil could not be so cruel!" she said, but she did not know that she had spoken. Sty heard abont her the buxz of In quiry, the bustle of excitement, but she sat still and white, as thoafh carved from marble. This?this was the end! Until this moment when hope had died, she had not known all that ha<l lived and perished with It. JHie day wore on. The night fell. Srtll she sat motionless, watching the sea. Her end of the piazza was de serted. A gloom hung over the hotel. The young moon shed Its faint rays upon her. as though It alone guessed her secret and gave her Its pity. "Alone?alone.'* she murmured, "for evermore! Oh. my love?my love!" Had her crj conjured up his wraith? From whence hod he sprung? An Instant before no one was in sight now he stood close beside her. She did not pause to think. She rose, and with one wild sob threw herself upon his breast. "Jack! Jack! Forgive me!" she cried. But It was no ghost which wiped away her tears and hushed her sobs with liis kisses. When they were calmer, ht toll her of his escape. One poor fellow, indeed, had been drowned: but he, with the others, had been saved by a passing craft, whose destination had been some little distance down the coast. But Ethel only realized that he was with her: for the rest she cared noth ing. "I?I shall never wear another one of Worth's dresses!" she said, at last, penitently. "Kv*h. darling! No rash vows," he answered, ?nce> more kissing the sweet lips to silence. "You shall send one more order, at least, ere many ?lays hnve sped, and that, my love, for the dress In which you give to me the priceless gift of your own dear self." ?Saturday Night. Kvery Town Should Advertise. In the oplniou of the Four-Track News, one of the first requisites of u I good business man, in this age of nier | cantlle activity, is that he should un derstand the art of advertising. The same rules that govern private con cerns should govern the business af fairs of cities. Every civilized town that has Industrial aspirations and hopes to grow and prosper, must needs let the world know wiiat It ha9 to of fer by way of Inducements. Manufac turing enterprises, educational institu tions, business and professional men are ever seeking desirable locations, and it is a noticeable fact that compar atively few cities and towns are at tracting them. This Is because many towns which possess good water pow er. good shipping facilities, good school and residential advantages, lack the life and enterprise to let the world know what they possess. They do not grow because they are unknown. They are like the drowsy merchant who doesn't think It worth while to adver tise, but prefers to sit and watch the spider* spin web* across his doorway. Every hew enterprise that locates in a town adds to the prosperity and bus iness possibilities of every dealer in the place, and every citizen who has his own good and the good of the com munity at heart should take a hand in getting his town Into touch with the busy, wide-awake world* Naw WtMliR Material. Welding a broken shaft, or even the ends of rails on trolley lines, is co.isid* ered of sufficient importance to require expert* at the head of the work, but if the new welding material, thermite, fulfUls all that fs promised, unskilled workmen may be doing this work In the near future. The thermite rail* welding process has already been ao cepted abroad, and 20,(MX) Joints have; been united by this system in forty European cities. The rail ends must be claned from dust and rust by a wire brush and then Slightly warmed. A mold Is then fitted around the ends and the thsrmlte Is heated In a crucible directly above the entrance to the mold, into which It flows as soon as the temperature rises to the melting point. The welding Is done automata eally by the thermite lts?lf. and thus the supervision of an expert welder it not required. In welding a heavy shaft the mold Is bnllt up around it and the heat applied to the crucible ns before, a process which might snvo valuable time on board ships. Aracale Katerp. The practice of eating arsenic Is very prevalent among the peasantry of the mountainous districts of Austria-Hun gary and France. They declare that the poison enables them to ascend with ease heights which they could only otherwise climb with ^rcat dl* tress to the chest REARING WILDFOWL the FUbJtvl | ticuttou and rial reurlif of saute ^ ^ (bd vrtfd fowl is qui? rare to take au iui ponam purt In tbe thoughts of Ameri can sportsuieu. It la time now (kit tbo matter should receive consideration, and tbat sportsmen all over tbe couu try should do their part toward push ing forward an Idea which ultimately Is certain to be generally taken up. and when taken up to greatly bvucflt those who use tbe shotcuu. As has already been said, wild ducks are artificially reared In various parts of Kugland. and ou a considerable scale. For example. Sir lticbard Ura ? bam. on bis estate at Netberby. In Cumberland, has reared 10.000 wild duck* in a season. Only 200 or 300 wild ducks are kept to lay, which they do chiefly in the woods, nesting in a natural manner. The remainder of the eggs are imported from the comi ties of Hertfordshire and Norfolk, from which iome 7000 or 8000 eggs, eft refill ly packed with hay in baskets in lots of aho'it 100. When they reach their destination, they arc given over to keepers and helper*, separated and set under licus. twelve eggs to a heu. Incubators have been used, but since it is necessary to give the ducklings to a mother to tgrood. there is no special gain in the use of IncubiUors. except tbat they arc koinetimes useful for weak young birds when first hatched. When the liens are setting, a large grass Held is selected, carefully fenced with wire to kc?ep out vermin, and the coops for the JOO hens are put out in tbe field. As each brood batches, the ducklings in baskets with the mother hen are earried to the Held, and each family is established lu Its home. The birds are fed four times a day, and are given water in*shallow pans for drinking, nut uot for bathing, liut when about three weeks old. shallow pools only eight or ten feet across are prepared, and in these the ducklings swim, wash and play. Much of the time of the youngsters Is spent bunt ing Insccts thiough tbe grass, and as they grow older they are more and more disposed to neglect their moth ers. Karly in life they are fed largely on wetted corn meal, and later eat the whole corn. When ubout six weeks old tbe young ducks are removed from the field to the places where they are to be permanently. Three of these duck homes are on streams that run through the estate. One is almost in the centre of a wood. About a hundred years ago large res ervoirs were constructed at Trlng. and these have always been frequented by wild ducks of various sorts. It Is only about fourteen jenrs ago that artific ial rearing of ducks began there. The eggs used are gathered on the spot, and somewhat after the method recently described in Forest and 8tream, as used by Mr. Georg* Corwln, at Chautauqua Lake fifty or sixty years ago. An area of water, iharshy ground, nnd water plants is inclosed by a netting. Wild birds are trapped, and, haviug had their wings clipped, nre turned loose in the enclosure. The eggs laid are gathered and set under hens, and when the broods are hatched they are taken to their field as already described. At six weeks old the?e birds are taken to the waterside, and there are still kept In an inclosure. They fly at from ten weeks to three months old. The success had in rear ing the wild birds is extraordinary. About ninety per cent, of the eggs hatch, and the birds do not seem to be troubled by any epidemic or disease of any sort. The success obtained In the cases mentioned has led more and more own ers of estates to go into the artificial rearing of wild ducks, and there prob ably has not been a time within a cen tury when inland wild fowl shooting in Britain was so good as it Is to-day. The shooting, except that already de scribed as from "gazes," Is largely from what are called "butts"?another form of blind similar to what grouse are shot from?and the shooting Is what we In America would call "pass" shooting?that Is to say, at birds flying overhead. What has been done in England can be done in Acicrlca, and undoubtedly will be, when anybody Is sufficiently Interested in tbo matter to take it u;> in earnest. For a number of years a few persons In various parts of the United States bare been rearing wild ducks and geese for use as decoys.* tho speclcs chosen being chic.ly mallard, the dusky duck, and the Canada g0S3C. At present an engineer In 3t. Joseph, Mo., Is engaged In bveef-lcg wild mallard ducks, which he sells as tlooys. Such examples chow the entire feasibility of engaging In the artificial rearing of wild fowl on a large scale, and nothing rure Is roqulrod than an orpansion of what hac already bcou put In practice to enormously increase tin wild duel; supply cf tho United State. Wo be lieve t'nut tho artificial rearing of wild fowl on Ctnte r.m' National reserves will some ilay give the gunners of the United States shooting lor.iewhat like that of old times.?Forest and Stream. Forro*? Cabinet M?n In Srnatf. fhe L'nitoil States Senate will harp among Its member*, when Philander Chase Knox Joins It. Ave former Cabi net officers. They nre: Senators Tel ler, of Colorado, who was Secretary of th# Interior trader President Arthur; Alger. Secretary of War under Presi dent McKlnley; Proctor. Secretary of War under President Harrison, and Elklns. who was Secretary of War un der President Harrison. Iflwllot of Attltnnl* Por Food. "In the selection of animals for meat, health should be given first considera tion," writes J. E. Simmons. "No mat ter how fat an animal may be, nor how good its form, If It Is not In perfect health, the best quality of meat cannot be obtained."?What to Ent. he cMwero visit. ?r m Uaad at lag Aajrhsv. Sir. 8toggin likes to spend his sum ?w vacation . In souie quiet country place with his wife and children, where be cua get good country fare nud de cent boating and fishing The farm of liis cousin, says the Chicago News, just answers that description. It naturally follows that Mr. Stoggin and bis family have been hospitably entertained there for several seasons. Of course the cou sin was cordially invited to return these visits, and when Mr. Stoggin re ceived word that his cousiu was com ing he was really pleased. "We must give him a good time.** he said to Mrs. Stoggin. "You know, he told us that he hadn't been in Chicago for tlfteen years, aud tbeu only stayed overnight. 1 guess he'll want to see about all there Is to be seen. And." he added, "by the time he gets through he'll Ifcnow more about Chicago than ! do myself after a lifetime spent here." lu the course of a few days the cou sin arrived and received a hearty wel come. lie came on the even ins train, and was conducted to Stoggiu's house, where a good dinner was spread, with candles ou the tables and the solid sil ver in use. The evening passed pleas antly. Before they retired Stoggin touched ou the subject of entertain ments. | "Now. Jim." he said, "what do j*ou think you'd like to do to-morrow?" "We-ell. I duhuo. exactly." said the cousin, doubtfully. "I've got to be at the office myself.** continued Stoggin. "but Bessie. here, will be glad to take you round. What do you say to the stock yardsV" The cousin smiled. "1 vaine here for a change." lie remarked, simply. "How about tli ? Museum":" *'I don't know as 1 care about It." said the cousin. "The Art Institute, then?" suggested Stoggiu. "Ilow would that strike you 7" "Pictures, ain't It?" ?'Yes. They've cor some good ones." ?'Well, uo. unless Bessie 'wauts to go." "No. I wouldn't have you go on my account." said Mrs. Stoggin. "We want to give you a good time." said Stoggin. "Now. I don't supj?ose you have seen the public library, and " "See here. Thomas." said the cousin. "If you want me to have a good time, don't you entertain ine. I never was much of a hand at sightseeing. It tuckers me clear out. ' 1 didn't come to Chicago to see the sights; I come to have a visit with you." lie stayed a week, and except that he went downtown one afternoon and bought some toys for the children, he hardly stirred'out of the house. Mrs. Stoggin declares that it was a great disappaolutmcnt to her not to get a chance to see something of the city. Conquer Ins Cap" Hut terns. Captain Eells.of Boston, has obtained permission from Congress to build a lighthouse on the outer side of the out er Diamond Shoal, off Cape Hat terns. He is to operate it for one year; the Lighthouse Board is then to operate It for four years; If it is then approved J by the Secretary of Commerce and La- ! bor. the United States will pay Captain Cells $*90,000 and take the structure. To thirty feet above high water ttie base may be built in any form: above that point the tower must conform to | Government specifications and have a circular steel mast with a spiral stair- , way. Captain Eel Is* plan is to con ! struct a steel base, somewhat bell shaped, alnmt sixty feet high and sev- I enty-tive feet in diameter at the hot torn, with double walls, the space b?? J tween these varying from tlfteen tc j four leet. to be tilled with masonry tc ' give the caisson a draft of about twen ] t.v-elglit feet. When completed thf caisson will be towed to a position where the water is about thirty feet ' deep. It will then be sunk, the spacr between the walls tilled up niul the sand in the centre drawn out by sue tiou pumps. When the bottom Is well j sealed the structure will be sunk unti' its bottom is thirty or more feet deef In the sand, men working in an all chamber as if sinking au crdii.ar," bridge caisson. On the base thus fixed th? s:rvr structure will be erected, masonry rx tending at least ninety feet above the oxtreme bottom, and the steel work rising above that for another ninetj feet or more. The lighthouse will be equipped with a lens of the first class a siren or steam whistle and a wlrelesi telephone apparatus, besides a tele phone system conneetlng all its rooris If the terrors of Diamond Slioals an ever to be conquered. It seciis a 3 If Captain Eolls" would b? tlie t icct suc cessful scl:cm.\ Typewriter! Against "TLe typewriter lias destroyed t'-if goh'.en future that we foresaw for oui business," cakl a inanv.faeturer cI pens. "If tno typewriter's Ueld of r.se fulness kce.?s on enlarging tliere wil scarcely bo any uee?l for pens fiftj years ber.ee." '.'lie uia:i sighed. ?'When I entered tlie p?n trade I; r.i.v Lcyliorvl. It 8:emed," la* sal J. "tliay this, above all trades, was one destini'i' to spread. In my dreams 1 saw tin whole world, educated at last, writing with pens of uy uiakc. "TLien the typewriter cane. I sneered at It In the beginning. ? called it a toy. But to-day It will d? everything a pen will do. It will mak< out bills and cheeks, address envelope! of every shape, make en.iics in al sorts of boohs. "Wo pen makers are berri JJlng ti suffer from the typewriter'* advent Our business, instead of enlarging healthily, is shrinking a little, like i man whom consumption bus attacked We are shutting down. We are laylnj off hands. "It Is easy to see that the day wil when pens will be used only f<? polite oorrcspondence and fof the sig nature." A llliih Itanirp. It Is claimed for Mile. Carmen Svlvn an eight-year-old singer, who made h"j ilrst appearance In London, England the other day. that her voice In* out of the greatest ranges of nnj llvnif singer and rises to the top A!mo I'ottl's roii'o did not go beyond the t<?j 1>, 2kll*s Kllen Hoach Yaw's goes to to| K, and M1?* l'dith llclu.i can rc?;?,; | the toy V, THE barber*3 shears* with mm Ki^H m Om mt tha !?< Tooli ?( HI* Trad*. Mr. Gllminerton took notice of th* fact that in the course of trimming his hair and beard the barber used three different sized pairs of shears. "And why so many?" he tsked. "Why." said the barker, "simply for greater convenience in the work. I could do it all with the same pair of shears, but 1 can uo it easier and bet ter with three pairs of shears, each best suited for the particular part of the work to be done with It. "Now. tbese heavy shears." he con tinued. as he held up the largest pair. "I use for the rough work: that is. the heavy .7ork on the top of the head where the hair is thickest, and where the slippe of the head makes the work all plain sailing. "There such shears can be used to advantage; but for the back of the head, and around the neck and the ears, where there are more and shorter curves to cover, smaller shears are bet ter and also handier to use. And then in trimming the beard 1 use smaller shears still. "These shears with which I am now trimming your beard. I have had for fourteen years, using tlieiu continuous ly. all the time, and for some years now on beards alone. They were an inch i longer in the blades when I first got them, but they have lost that in re peated grindings. But they are per fect shears for my use. and 1 would not part with them, half worn out as they are. for twice what they original ly cost. "How much do barbers' shears cost? Two dollars a pair, and they are not very large, either. So you see bar bers' shears are rather costly. They must be of the tinest material and per fect^* made and adjusted in order to make them serviceable and adapted to their work. But. expeuslve as they are, and supposed to be all good and fine, they may really differ greatly in quality or character. They vary as much, in fact, as razors do. "Of two pairs of shears of the same make and grade and same shape and size bought at the same time, one pair might turn out perfect shears and the other not nearly so good. One pair might need to be ground every two weeks, and the other might cut per fectly for a month or more before need ing grinding. "So on the score of economy, as well as because of their greater comfort and convenience in use. a good pair of shears over the shears that get dull and must often be put out of commis sion for repairs, is something highly to be prized. The good shears, less of ten ground, last longer to begin with, and then it costs less to keep them in order. "The barber keeps his own razors in order himself, but when his shears need grinding he must send them to a grinder, and, to put it in figures, it costs twenty cents for the grinding of a pair of shears. So the difference in the cost of upkeep between two pairs of shears, one good and the other poor, may amount to dollars In the course of a year; certainly a consideration of im portance. > "And so, taking everything together, the barber?who becomes attached to the tools of his trade. Just as the men of any other craft or culling becomo at tached to theirs?may easily come to have for a good pair of shears, that he has long been accustomed to. a feeling of decided attachment, as 1 have, for Instance, for this pair that I have had since I began In the business, the pair with which I am now trimming your beard."?New York Sun. Japaiiene Man Power, Tho present war in the East Is prob ably the only instance of a great cam paign between civilized nations in which one of the combatants has re lied almost entirely on man power, instead of horse power, for transport, the whole of the supplies of each Jap anese division of infantry being car ried by as many coolies, or porters, as there are lighting men. The Japanese porters are mainly men whose phy sique is not judged to be good enough to entitle them to tight in the line of battle, though according io modern European notions theirs would be con sidered rather the more arduous task of the two. But the Japanese have shown up till now that their choice of means has generally been correct, and it Is not likely that they have made u mistake in this case. They know their own people, and for centuries human transport has been the occupation of u large class of their unskilled labor. The litter, or rick shaw, has been adopted, in Imitation | of their method, even In Simla, the I governing city of India. By a simple I mechanical contrivancc they have also j greatly facilitated the work of bear i ing burdens. A bamboo is carried on | a kind of pad over the shoulder, and the load, carefully balanced, is sus pended to each end. The carrier thus avoids one of the greatest sources of fatigue, namely, the effect of picking up 'the burden when it has been laid f.owu to rest, for by merely raising tho bamboo and putting his whole body under it, be lifts It with the least p >s sl'jle effort.?London Spectator. Cntombed In ? Corner-Stone. There 13 nothing especially impres sive in Itself about the practice of put | ting cjlns under the foundation stone of a new building, especially If the de nomination of the coins la r.iodest. Yet, this harmless prat tle? Is the shadow of an older tragic custom. The money stands, theoretically, for the ransom of the human being, who, by ancient .sup erstition should have been burled In Its place. Otherwise, It was held, the building would not stand tiriu ami en dure. There was a time when this pnrtlr-u lar kind of human sacrifice had a vogue extending to most parts of tho world. Even in England skeleton* have been found embedded In the buses of castle walls, and there Is re cord of one German fortress at tho building of which a child was bought from Its irothcr with hard cash and . walled In to the dlnlon tower?the un- j nntural mother, according to the story, looking oti the while. Efllgies of hu- I man beings are still used in some port* j ?f Europe as harmless gubstlttitos, i and In remoter and more ruthlest j places the old custom crops out fr?m time to time In all Its grim reality.? 1 Jiew York Ticcc?, ? - ?* witwhumor o/THE DAY VoUleroai. There was once a pair o! youna beaux \\ ho sported the loudest of cltaox, And the noise that thev made i'ut t!ie sea in tlie shade. By the sound of the serjtv, 1 suppesux. ?Pennsylvania Bunch BowL By Way of V*rl*ty. ilcl?ne?"So they are finally <H rorced. How about the child?" Percy?"Oh. the child got the custo'v of the mother. 1 believe."?Tuck. A Kindred Lin*. -Ots Is a putty good argument for ? sliippitf subsidy." "Are you interested In dat subject?" ?'Sure. I'm interested in any ole *cl?eiue to get soinetiiiu' for uothln* Puck. And Something More. ?Dickey, if you had twelv ? marbles, and Tommy shonld take half of them, ho*.v muuy would he have?" "He'd have six of 'em. ma'am, an* d.' wust Uckin' 'e ever got in his life, t'rowed In."?Chicago Tribune. A Siipponrilly Ooml Authority. i*he Literary Lady--"Hannah. that cake you m:uic was positively unpal a table. I never tasted sucli a mess." Ilannab?"Yes. ma'am. I was ?juite sure it would be. ma'am, i made it from the recipe in that cook book you wrote. ma'am."?Cleveland Plain !?I er. Not In Hit Llnr. "They have a bright clerk down here at the drug store." "Why. what's the matter?" "I went in and asked for ten cents' worth of collodion to paiut shingles with. 'Madam.* he said, 'we don't keep house paints here.' "?Brooklyn LifA Living t'i? to It. Mrs. Gossipp?"Do you think that young man who calls on Agatha three times a week lias serious intentions?" Mrs. Piuktea?"He ought to have, judging from his occupation. He ed its a column called 'Something Do ing.* "?Cincinnati Commercial-Tri bune. Ilxd DiflVrent i:<>ii?t>ii?. -I'm afraid you can't graduate this year, after all." said the high school professor to the Sweet Young Thing, who was sty in Greek or soim'thim;. "No." she replied. "I can't. The dressmaker simply can't yet my dress linlsheil in time?isn't it too !>:? "" ? Cleveland Lender. w'ork ? N?*r?->??lty. "Work." remarked Tired TiuioU;>. "is tie bestest thing wot is." "Since when tild youse fall in love will work?" asked Hungry Henry. "I alters loved it." replied T. T. "Why, ef it wasn't fer work, how'd tie easy marks git money tetl give us as woi'ks 'eu, huh?"?Chicago News. Comnirndntlou. "Do you consider Buskin a great ac tor?" "No." answered Mr. Stormlugton P.arnes. "lie speaks very admiringly of your performances." "Buskin is not a good actor, but he is a remarkably line critic."?Washing ton Star. Conri?p Information. "How can I go to Jones' grocery store. sonny?" "Wby. go down past Jimmy Bailey's barn, turn a round the corner of [teddy Johnson's pigpen, go up past Swipe Mull lean's corn crib, down do alley dat Johnny Rriggs lives on. cross de street where Danny O'Rourkeis home is. so down a block, an* yer right there."? New York Journal. A FlnMrrlnt C??mt?nri?r?n. "So you you are a i.eglectefl geniusV" 'Till sure of it." said the solemn cit izen. "Perhaps you hive hidden your light under a bushel?" "No. it isn't that. Rut you must bear In mind that the slar Arcturus, which is really manj times as large as one win, does not produce as much of a public Impression us a bicycle lamp."? Washington Star. An It Often If n|>ppn*. ?'Yes." said the hungry looking mail, "I'm willing to do anything." "Ilow does it happen that you are out of a job In such n time of peace, plenty and prosperity as this?" "Well, you see, there was a strike." "Oh. And you lost?" "No. we won all right, only they gradually discharged all us fellows who'd gone out." "I see. The operation was success ful, but the patient died."?Chicago Record-Ilera Id. In Mrmorlwot* "Rather handsome youug widow, isn't she?" "She's more than rather handsome. I think she's ore of the handsomest women In town." "Too bad she has such poor taste." "I can't agree with you If you think she has poor tartc." "Every one of her diamonds Is noth ing more than paste." "Oh. that may be so. She probably wears them In memory of h^r bin* bm d. lie wai a bill poster."?St. I'aul New*.