The people. (Camden, S.C.) 1904-1911, January 05, 1905, Image 2
Jk Theory About
k
"Table Tipping,"
By Andrmw Lang.
was one* laying 1117 ban da, alone, on a little table wllch
apon. about (he room. No doubt I moved It, but I did ao "auto
matically." K did not, oonaclouely, exert any force. I aald.
"Ask the table a queatlon." and a lady remarked, "Where are
the watchea?" The table then tilted; the others used the alpha
bet In the ordinary way. 1 did mot know what waa tilted out;
but they told me that the measace waa, "The watches are in
Frank's pocket. In the children's room." 1 saked "What
watches?" and the lady said, **I gave two to Frank to take to
IM watcbmaker, and M doe? not know what hsrsias of them."
"No more do I," I Mid, and thooght no mora about It. Prank was a
Wr, a nephew of the lady; I scarcely knew hlaa by sight Two months later,
when I was In France, Fraak'a father, who had been present at the table-tilting,
wrote to tell me that I "was thadevfl!" The watches had Just been fjpond la
an old greatcoat of Frank's; in a drawer la the children's room. ? which was not
a room la the boose where the table was so well Inspired. Nothing else of the
sort ever happened to me. It was an "automatism." I did not know what the
table "said" till I was told, aad of the watches I knew nothing at all. I simply
do not understsnd the esse; bat "spirits" did not evenr pretend to be mixed up
In 1L The least inconcelvsble psychic explalnatlon is that Frank, who was at
school, "wired" on to me. without knowing It, a fact which he had forgotten,
and that I, without knowing It, made the table tile out the answer.
Frank at that time was a queer. Visionary boy, "sensitive," but to do
all this was rather out of his line. The sceptical theory would be that Frank
having heard the story, and accidentally come upon the lost watches, put them
In the place where the table said they were, "and the same with Intent to de
ceive." Btft I did not even know that -V.^re was a room in his faher's house
called "the children's room."
1
What Sympathy Is
? By Jinnie Payson Call. ? ?
O be truly sympathetic we should be able so to Identify our
selves with the interests of others that wo can have a thor
ough appreciation of their point of view, and can understand
their lives clearly, as they appear to themselves; but this
we can never do if we are Immersed in the fog ? either of
of their personal selfishness or our own. By understanding
others clearly we can talk ln^ways that are, and seem to
them, rational, and gradually lead them to a higher standard.
ir a woman is In the depths of despair because a dress
toes not fit. I should not help her by telling her the truth about her character,
?nd lecturing -her upon her folly in wasting grief upon trifles when there are
so many serious troubles in the. world. From her point of view, the fact that
tier dress does not fit is a grief. But if I keep puiet and let her see that I un
derstand -her disappointment, and. at the same time, hold my own standard,
?he will be led much more easily and more truly to see for herself the small
neas of her attitude. First, perhaps, she will be proud that she has learned
not to worry about such a little thing as a new dress; and, if so. I must re
member her point of view, and be willing that she should be proud.
From the top of a mountain you can see into the valley around about, ?
your horizon is very broad, and you can distinguish the details that it encom
passes; but, from the valley, you cannot see the top of the mountain, and
your horizon is limited.
This illustrates truly the breadth and power of wholesome human sym
pathy. With a real love for human nature, ? if a man has a clear, high stand
ard of his own, ? a standard which he does not attribute to his own intelli
gence ? his understanding of the lower standards of other men will also be
very clear, and he will take all sorts and conditions of men into the region
within the horizon of his mind. Not only that, but he will recognize the fact
when the standard of another man Is higher than his own, and will be ready
to ascend at once when he becomes aware of a higher point of view. On the
other hand, when selfishness is Sympathizing with selfishness, there is no
??cent possible, but only the one little low place limited by the personal self*
fah interests of those concerned. ? Leslie's Monthly.
Is Opportunity All
By E. S. Martin. . .
HANCB abounds, so do chances. Life Is not a speculation,
it Is a problem. Opportunity is one of its most persistent
incidents. It Is the stuff in the man that makes the differ
ence. It is character end energy and work that count. The
' man who recognizes his first considerable opportunity and
Improves it, may succeed so early and so easily that he nev
er develops what is in him and comes to disaster and dry
rot in the end. Or his early success, without absolutely
bringing him to grief, may restrict him ail hla dava. To
nu.e aomeming that is a little too good to drop and not good enough to tie
to. Is not an uncommon human condition. Mishandling of opportunity means
defeat, but defeat may be the most Invaluable discipline. Most of the strong
men have borne their fnll load of It. Think of Grant from the time he left the
regular army until the breaking out of the civil war! Think of Lincoln's early
life! Opportunity may skin her knuckles rapping at the door without the
?lightest avail unless there Is some one Inside who Is prepared for her com
ing. It Is what Captain Mahan calls "Preparedness" (and a bad word It is)
that makes opportunity valuable. Get "preparedness;" have It In the house;
Veep It In stock; get more of It and more, but lose no wink of sleep, nor skip
a meal, for any fear that opportunity may be knocking at the door, and you
may not hear her. If you are her man she will have to make you hear. Pre
paredness Is the bait for Opportunity. If you have preparedness you will
hear her knock, and have her in with all she has, but if you have not got
ready vou can do no moro than ask her to call again. ? "Opportunity and the
President" In the Metropolitan.
Music As Medicine
By Gustav Kobbe.
hat in several public Institutions music Is now regarded as
one of the most Important of the outside aids in the cure of
disease, that musical treatment is systematically applied
there and a careful record of the results kept, really Is not
extraordinary. The true occasion for surprise lies In the
fact that it has so long been neglected. For if anything Is
obvious, it Is that music, according to Its kind, excites, ex
alts or soothes the listener; and the deduction that from
tht~e emotional states there results a Dhvuimi rMctinn
obvlo". "o^ 'or in the administration of medicine, seems equally
The effect of music upon physical being readily can be observed In those
who make It a profession. In New York orchestral players are often obliged
to play a long opera rehearsal in the morning, at a concert In tbe afternoon,
?ad then at an operatic performance laatlng perhaps until midnight. A clerk
or average business man equally hard worked would be morose and on the
verge of pervous prostration. But with orchestral players the stimulating
effect of music seems to counteract the fatigue of overwork. They are a
cheerful and sociable lot. Here music seems a preventive. In caaes of lung
trouble singing lessons (under a really able teacher) usually result In great
physical improvement, due not only to the Incidental Instruction In proper
breathing and consequent expansion of the lungs, but also to the stimulating*
effect of music Itself. In fact an artificial emotional crisis, such as Is pro-,
duced when either Interpreting or listening to muse, results In a beneficial
physical react Ion .^-Good Housekeeping.
Paet Fulfilled After 40 Yeare.
An agreemeht made between friends
forty years ago wan kept yesterday
afternoon at tbe funeral of the Rev.
George Heacock. The Rev. J. Rich
ards Boyle, pastor of the Spring Gar
den btreet Methodist Episcopal
church, officiated, and the pact that
whichever of the two should die first
should have hla funeral services con
ducted by the other waa fulfilled.
Mr. Boyle converted Mr. Heacock
to Methodism In Maueh Chunk four
decades ago, at which tlma the agree
ment wm made ? Philadelphia Publle
?hooting With Horaeahoe Nails.
Horaeahoe nails kicked about tha
roads of the worlu by horses Innumer
able are far from the useless frag
ments we might think them. Ounmak
era tell ua there Is no Iron so well
fitted for their purpose as that derived
from horseshoe nails and similar worn
fragments.
I The nails, made originally of the
beat atuff obtainable, receive from tho
conatant pounding of the horses' feet
on bard surfacea a peculiar annealing
and toughening, making them a most
perfect aubstance for the manufacture
of Ua Inaat gun barrels.
KETCHIN* WOCti #
Tm awM food of ketchin' ride* ^ ^ ?
I Hke those tracks where I km (tnd
Without t-boidia' to the aide*
(Br maybe hold in' with ?m hand).
Though teacher says it's not refined
To go a-keichin' on behind.
I almost ?m walk to schooi.
Bo many wagons pass our place;
, My fav'rite one he makes a role
Of always leadin' me a chase, ,
An' then pertsndin' he's too blind *
To see me kctchin' on behind.
I've found there's just two kinds of men
What drive* the wagons in our town,
'Cause when I meet 'em, now an' then.
There's some that grab their whips or
frown,
Put some they nod'an' never mind
When I am ketchin' on behind.
I guess when I am rich an' great
An' own a truck an' grocery cart,
I'll alwavs drive 'am slow, or wait
So little chnns can get a start ?
( An' have 'etn huilt so boys kin find
A n'acc (fr ketchin' on liehind.
?Barrel Johnson, in Harper's Magazine.
A Double Find.
Cy C. ANDERTON.
H, stop. Jack! There Is
something beneath my feet.
A glove, perhaps. Look for
It, ?lear!"
The boy stooped down at
.??? s request.
"Well, I declare, Lily, it's a roll of
notes. Oil, what a fl ml!" cried Jack.
wliat a loss to Home unfortun
ate person! Let us wait awhile and
observe If anyone is searching for
them!"
?'Hush. Lily, or some paRser-by, who
has no right to this money, may ov?r?
iiear you and claim it. But the real
owner will go off and advertise his
loss. You're five years my senior, and
very hook-learned, sis, hut I know the
world far better than you do. especial
ly this great world of London. Why,
it wouldn't be safe to go to the nearest
kimp-post and count the money, or I'd
like to!"
So the young philosopher of fifteen
put that "find" in his vest pocket, and
buttoned his coat over it.
Lilian Huntley was a music teacher,
nnd two afternoons each week she
gave lessons to a girl who had no other
spare time. It was some distance from
Lilian's home, and Jack, who was em
ployed In an office, always called for
her upon these occasions, very proud to
be his sister's esccort.
"How late you are, my. dear children!
I feared something had happened to
you," said Mrs Huntley, who was peer
ing out Into the November dusk.
"We're all right." replied the son,
"though we met with an adventure.
But come in, mother dear, and lock the
door. Then sit down and count these
notes."
i She counted them, Lilian and Jack
looking on eagerly.
"Three of one hundred pounds, two
fifties, and ten of ten pounds each
five hundred pounds."
"It was Lily's luck, mother.**
"I don't know that it is such great
luck. The owner is sure to advertise
his loss."
"Well, lie can't offer less than fifty
for a reward, nnd that is something,
mother."
For the three following dn*'s the col
umns of the "Lost and Found" were
searched In several papers In vain.
"It may be some one very, very poor
In consequence," said Mrs. Huntley,
'"this sum being their entire savings.
Therefore, let us advertise."
So a few lines were drawn up to this
effect:
"FOUND. ? On the evening of No
vember?, a sum of money, which tho
owner can receive by giving a full
description and paring expenses.**
lint days, and weeks, and months
passed over, and 110 application was
made through the office of the news
pa per.
Yet Lilian and her mother gratefully
blessed that loser, for upon one occa
sion Sirs Huntley had a severe spell of
sickness? the little funds wer* low.
and a small sum was borrowed from
that store. Then Jack required an en
tire new suit; and lastly, by that
means, they were enabled to take a
small house In a better neighborhood,
letting two rooms to a respectable
young couple.
Yet each time the money was honor
ably returned Into a safely-locked de?k.
Four months went by, one April
evening. Lilian was returning from
one of those weekly music lessons,
arm-ln-arni with her brother. They
always exchanged n silent pressure ?f
the hands upon reaching that well-re
inemhered spot.
Two young gentlemen were In con
versation.
"I oug.it to know this place." ?aid
one. "for it was here 1 lost five hun
dred pounds, having shortly before re
ceived that amount, and 1 never
missed it until* next morning, when
many a league out at sea."
"Iteinember. this is not Arcadia, but
London, so more probably some loafer
picked it up and made for the nearest
public house. Hut I will leave you
ihiw. Mr. Mrnliam. I will call to-mor
row morning at nine o'clock without
fall."
"O .Tack!** "O Lily!" had been whis
pered by the brother and sister In the
shadow of a neighboring gateway.
"Call to lilm, Jack, or he will be out
of sight."
And Jack not only called, but seized
the slnmger'a arm.
"Mir! sir!" he cried, "your money was :
not lost; m.v sister here found It!"
"Is It possible that such rare honor
and honesty exist?"
If you will come with us. sir. to our
mother's home." said Lilian, "you shall
be convinced that In our case such a
thing was possible!"
"Pardon my abruptness," returned
Alan OraJiam. "I have only to look at
your countenances to see my error."
Mrs Huntley was watching for them
a* usual, 'or the dally Incidents seldom
varied In that quiet family. Hut as
Jack Introduced their visitor, she. In
F.rn, was surprised: then, quickly un
locking the desk, she laid the uotes
before him. Mr. Oraliam never counted i
the money, but a?ked >|rs; Uuatle/; to ;
replace it, pref?r aot
to take It that
He then tokl tMjKbout the time the
iwyiey was lott Hf recttwt a letter
front his iistertflp>ided la Ameri
ca, imploring hl2v cobO to her inline
dlately. Her ftpBband had been
thrown from hHTUn* and killed, and
between her det^ grief and terrible
shock she had sustained she was utter
ly prostrated. <>?]
He found the poor, broken-hearted
widow aeriously*#!. and though she
seemed to rally for a abort time, yet
she gradually aUk'and died, tarring
her only child, kittle girl about five
yesrs of age. to his care.
. "And now, Mrs. Huntley,** he con
tinued, "I win -venture to make a pro-1
posal. Will you take the poor little
wait as an inoditt of your pleasant
home, and allow this money, so for
tunately lost and found, to be my pay
ment for a few advance Y*
Then n discussion arose respecting
the payment. Mri Hunfley considering
a smaller sum. than he proposed an
equivalent, but. finally he gained hi*
point.
It was decided that Mrs. Huntley
and Lilian should call the next morn
ing and make little Nell's acqualntanco
"How do yon like our new friend.
Lily?** asked her "brother, who had re
turned from piloting their visitor to
the 'bus, en route to his hotel.
"Very much, indeed. Jack. And dur
lug your absence, mamma has sug
gested that 1 give up my out door pu
pils and become the child's governess."
Later iu the summer Alan Graham,
who had been traveling on the Conti
nent, returned. He* had heard from
Lilian that little Nell had suffered
slightly from the extreme heat; so. be
fore coming even to see her, he made a
trip to Dovereourt, and there arrauged
for Mrs. Iluntley, her daughter, and
their little charge to remain until cool
weather set in."
And when they met It was almost
like old friends, for he and Lilian had
constantly corresponded upon Nell's
account, the child always enclosing a
little letter of her own.
At the close of their week's sojourn,
Mr. Graham made his second trip,
bringing with him Jack, who perhaps,
was for the time the happiest mortal
in all that seaside resort.
Jack had to return to Monday morn
ing's business, but Graham lingered a
few days longer. Then these weekly
visits came to be a matter of course.
"And you think 1 have fulfilled poor
Elinor's desires, Lilian?" asked Alan
Graham, owe evening, during a sea
beach ramble.
"Indeed I do, Mr. Graham, and con
sider you to have been one of the kind
est and most devoted of brothers."
"And yet there was another request
my sister made.; I will repeat It In her
own words. 'Alau, you are now twen
ty -seven; why do you not change your
lonely, single life for one more home
like? Think you. Is there no dear,
loving girl whose sweet presence
would udd to your happiness? To
Nell we shall remain only a tender
memory; but to you she will look up.
with a child's love and duty, as to n
fsthctr. Will you not give her a moth
er. also?* 1 was constrained to prom
ise, though at that time there was no
one whom 1 loved, or, perhapi, who
cared for me; but now I have found
her! Lily? dear Lilyl will you help me
to fulfill my sister's last wishes? I
think you care for me? a littler'
"Not only a little, Alan, but very,
very greatly!"? New York News.
* ? Awakening of ChiMM.
"The awakening of the Chinese to
the superior merits of Western eivlll
zutlon has been flow, hut the Celes
tials are gradually having their eyes
opened," said Mr. Thomas Handcrs,
who lias lived in Pekln many yearn, to
a Tost report# at the Raleigh. "One
of the surest signs of the decay of con
servatism hi China Is that ere long
the croel practice of binding the feet
of the women Is to be abolished. Con
sidering tha great repugnance of the
-people to changing the custom of cen
turies, this Is a wonderful triumph of
modern Ideas. Heretofore Chinese wo
men of the upper class' were scarcely
thought elegant if their feet from toe
to heel measured over thirteen centl
raerres. This 1k hut little over half the
length of the feet of European women
of the class that prides Itself om deli
cate pedal extremities.
"The suffering and physical agony
that the women of China have borne
stolidly for generations through this
i custom of foot binding will soon be at
an end, and they will have feet pretty
much after the sort of the rest of the
daughter* of Eve. It is (Interesting,
however, to note that the agitation for
the reform <11d not come from the fair
*ex, but' from masculine philanthrop
ists." ? Washington Post
No ?ert*r, Needed to Ounl,
"Some people." remarked an employe
at Broad Street Station, "have their
own ways of doing things. The other
day a party of four persons arrived at
this station from one of the summer
resorts. They were laden with a mis
cellaneous nssortment of luggage, and
the head of the family hud an Immense
white bulh'.og. The luggage was so
heavy that they were compelled to call
upon the porters for help.
"When they reached the cafe door
they directed the porters to pile the
luggage in a heap on the tioor. Then,
their request being compiled with,
they placed the bulldog on the top of
the heap aud went Into the restaurant
and dined, failing to appear for two
hours.
"In the meanwhile the dog was 'mon
arch of ail he surveyed,' for none
dared k ? learer than ten feet of him.
"The ; rty finally took a train to
one of the suburbs."? Philadelphia
Press.
Vlr?t Aid la Wreeke.
The Pennsylvania Railroad has just
adopted a plan for the relief of pass
engers Injured in wrecks. All baggage,
mall and express* cars and Important
stations are to be equipped with
stretchers. Yard offices, shops, loco
motives, etc.. are to have "first aid
boxes," which are sealed tin boxea
containing six sterilised packets em*
bracing a large triangular bandage, an
ordinary bandage, two compresses and
two safety-pins. Surgeons of the road
will give Instructions to trainmen and
terminal employes regarding the hand
ling of atretchcrs and attending to UM
wounded.? The Pathfinder. ~ '
OUR. GIRLS AND BOtS
THE HICKORY NUT. j
A little brown baby, round and w?e,
With kind wind* to rock him, slept high
in a tree.
And be grew add be grew till, oh, dreadful
to say!
He tumbled right out of hia err die one day,
Down, down from the tree-top, a terrible
fall! ?
But the queer littla fellow was not hurt at
all;
And sound and sweet he lies in the grans.
And there you will find him whenever you
pass.
? Minneapolis Journal Junior.
A LOCUST'S BREATHING.
' Hold a loeust between your fingers
and watch tbe breathing movements of
tbe body. Prof. Packard says: "There
were tixty-flve contractions In a min
ute la a locust which bad licen beld be
tween the fingers about ten minutes."
How does that compur * with tbe num
ber of breaths you take each minute?
Insects of swiftest flight breathe most
rapldty.? From Nature and Science in
St. Nicholas.
STRAWBERRY FISHING.
"Moilie, Uncle Herman's fleld is Just
like the sea," said Millie as a gentle
little summer breeze swept over the
tall grass flecked -with daisies, and
made It bend in rippling curvcs like
the green seu waves with their white
caps of foam.
"So it is," said Moilie; "let's play
fishing in it."
"But there are 110 fishes, because it's
not a truly sea, only just grass."
"But we'll catch play Ashes," an
swered Moilie; "and, oh, I know what
they'll be? strawberries.'.'
So the two children made safe little
dives down under the green grass
waves. With happy calls, they told
of every sweet, ripe, rosy strawberry
fish that they caught. There were
plenty of fish. ~By and by they wan
dered into the very high grass. Millie
stood up. She could not see over it and
began to cry:
"We're lost, we're lost and can't find
our way out."
"Never mind," said Mollle, "I think
I can find tbe way."
So off they started. They must have
walked a very long distance, it seemed
to Moilie, but the grass was fctlll over
their heads.
Somebody walking along the road
saw two pink and white suubonuets
bobbing about in the grass.
"Hello, girlies!" lie called. "What
are you doing over there?"
"It's Uncle Herman," cried Moilie,
racing toward the direction from
which tbe sound came.
"We were strawberry fishing, nnd
got lost," said Moilie as Uncle Herman
lifted her over the rail fence.? Adapted
from the Mayflower.
BOYS ON A BUKXIXC SHir.
Five hundred boys from different
workhouses in Loudon -were put to
school to be trained as sailors on board
the training ship Co! lath. This great
ship suddenly caught tire r.bout S
o'clock one winter morning. It >vas
hardly daylight. In three minutes the
ship was on Ore from one end to the
other, and the lire bell rang to call the
boys each to his post.
What did they do? Did they cry, or
scream, or fly about in confusion? No;
each ran to his proper place. The hoys
had been trained to do it, and no one
forgot himself, nor lost his presence
of mind, but all behuved like men.
Then, when it was found impossible
to save the ship, those who could
swim, at the command of the captain.
Jumped into the water and swam for
their lives. Some, at the captain's
command, got into a boat, and when
the sheets of clouds of flame and smoke
came out of the ship at them, the small
er boys for a moment wera frightened
and wanted to push away. Hut there
wa3 one among them, a little mate (his
i:anis was William Bolton), n quiet
bo;\ much beloved by his comrades,
who had the sense and the courage to
say: "No, we roust stay aud help those
who are still in the ship." He kept
the barge alongside of the Goliath as
long as possible, and was thus the
means of saving more than 300 lives.
And there Wvre others that were
still in the ship ~vblle the flames went
0:1 spreading, and they were standing
toy the captain who had been so kind
to them all, and whom they loved so
much. In that dreadful moment they
thought more of him than of them
selves. and on** threw his arms around
his neck and said, "You'll be'burned.
Captain;" and another snld, "Save
yourself. Captain!" But the captain
said,. "No, boys! that is not the way
at sea."
He meant that the way at sea Is to
prepare for danger beforehand, to
meet It manfully when ?t comes, and I
to look at the safety not of oneself,
but> of other*.? Little Christian.
MAKING A TOOL CABINET.
*A very convenient tool cabinet that
will hang against the wall may .tie
made with two doors of nearly equal
size, so that there will be four Instead
of two surfaces against which to hang
tools. The body of the chest is thirty
inches high, twenty Inches wide, and
nine inches deep, outside measure. It
Is made of wood three quarters of an
Inch In thickness, fastened together
with screws and glue, aud varnished
to improve Its appearance. One aide
of the cabinet is but three Inches and
a half wide, and to this side the Inner
door Is made fast with hinges, so it |
will swing in against a stop molding
on the opposite side.
A small bolt on the door will fasten
It in place when shut In, and on both
sides of this door hooks and pegs cau
be arranged on which to hang tools.
Inside the back of the cabinet books
and pegs can be arranged also, for
saws, squares and other flat tools. The
outer door Is provided with ? wide
?trip, lo Mkf tilt pJtct of tU? lacking <
part of that aide of tlie cabinet, and
when the doora are closed In and
locked the appearance of the chest will
be uniform.
With a little careful planning and
figuring It will not be a difficult mat
ter to construct this cabinet aud the
doors so that they will fit snugly and
close easily. The doors will keep their
shape better If made from narrow
matched boards aud held together at
the ends with battels or strips nailed
across the ends of the boards. Two
inch wrought butts will be heavy
enough for the hinges of the doors.
Provide a cabinet lock at the edge of
the outer door.
On the inside of the outer door same
tool pegs cHn be arranged, and near
the bottom a bit rack is made with a
leather strap formed into loops as de
scribed for the tool rack. Under each
loop a hole Is bored ill a strip of wood
into which the square end of the bits
will fit, so they will stand vertically
and appear in an orderly row; for
chisels a similar set of pockets can lie
made of wood.? From Joseph II. Ad
ams' "The Practical lioy," in St. Nich
olas.
A "KOIJN 1> A BOl ?T" THICK.
Give another hoy a broomstick or a
somewhat lor.ger stick and tell him
to grasp it with both nat.ds near one
end. plant the other end fit-inly in an
angle between the wall and the Hour
and then pass entirely under the stick,
from one side to the other, betweec his
hands aud the wall.
If he attempts this apparently easy
feat Without knowing how it should
THE START OF THE TRICK,
be done, lie will be aimost sure to do
09c of tlirce tilings. He will stop and
give the . '.log lip, or let g<< tlic stick
and tumble on Ills nose, or, possibly,
bold on aud come down to the floor,
stick and all. because bis knees have
given away or his feet have slipped.
This is because be, quite naturally,
tries to pass under the stick with his
face toward the wall.
After lie aud the others have failed
in one way or another aud have de
clared the feat impossible, show them
how easy it is by doing it yourself.
But you must stand with your back
toward the wall and with your feet
rather far apart and ?well braced, and,
of course, you must bend backward
as your head and body go under the
stick. Your feet and the end of 1 lie
stick form a broad triangle, and if the
stick is long enough and (irmly
grasped there is little danger of either
falling or
The end of the stick should not be
very round and smooth, aud you
J'ASHINO UNDF.lt THE BROOM.
should always hold il and caution (lie
others to hold It. exactly perpendicu
lar to 1 lie lino where the wall moots
the floor, without the least slant to
right or left, which might make it slip
sidewise.? New York Kvening Mail.
The Hygienic Vnlu? of ftumlajr.
Sunday is not only a religions, but
ft hygienic institution. It is bcneflcient
In its nnen, morally and physically.
How workers should best spend the
Sunday is still a moot question, but
that It should bo a iinic of houl refresh
ment and recreatloji, n moment, as
Miss Corel II expresses it, "for standing
ami taking breath on the threshold of
another week," a season for thought,
for Intellectual enjoyment, for the so
lace of uature and the admiration of
Its wonders and beauty, 110 sensible
person will be likely to deny. Whether
motoring or card playing is the liest
way to attain these ends must be left
to each individual's Judgment.? Lady
Violet (Jrevllle, In the London Crap hie.
A C1*T?r K, <11 tor.
"Csn you tell me what sort of weatli
er we may expect next month?" wrote
a subscriber to the editor of a paper;
and the editor replied as follows: "It
Is my belief that the weather next
month will be very much like your
subscription." The inquirer wondered
for an hour what the editor was driv
ing at, wllen be happened to tblnk of
the word "unsettled." He tent In tlia
required amount next day.
9 Oar Defective Roa>1 Lawii
Since our National Government ha?
ahown such liberality in appropriating
enormous sums of money for rivers,
harbors, railroads and the building of
country itoads in our newly ncipiired
possessions iu which the musters have
but little luterest, many arc of the
opinion that Uncle Sam might well af
ford to lend some assistance to our
own people, "who pay all these ex
penses, by co-op era ting with the State,
county, township and individual con
tributors In the improvement and maln?(
tenancc of our common highways. By
this method the burden of expense
would be more evenly distributed and
no one would be injured, but all mate
rially benefited. To make this plan
effective, much agitation and educa
tion among the people will be neces
sary. Already considerable progress
has been made along this line through
the public press, the organization of
good roads associations and otherwise,
and as ?n evidence of the Increasing
popularity of this plan, resolution*
of approval are being adopted by many
State Legislatures, political cop voli
tions and by various Industrial and la
bor organizations in all parts of the
country. The result of this agitation
and organization on the part of the
farmers and business men of the coun
try has led to the more serious consid
eration of tills important question by
the law making powers, not only ??f
several States, but of the nation as
well. Many States have already pro
vided large sums of money for thv? bet
teuBcnt of their roads, and now tlm
general Government Is being appealed
to for assistance. About one dozen
bills were introduced during the l'lf
ty-eightli Congress, asking that one
half of the cost for the improvement
of the common roads of the country
be paid from the National Treasury, so
as to facilitate the delivery of the ru
ral rim ilk and the general traffic, and
none are meeting with more popular
favor than the one introduced by Sen
otor A. ('. I.at'.nier, of the Palmetto
State. Mr. I*atimer is a good roads
enthusiast, and does not intend t?? re
lax his efforts and energies in this di
rection until something lias been done
by the Nntioual Government to assist
farmers in the Improvement of the
common roads of the country.
Coat of Had linaiiii.
Good roads enable the farmer to
haul more produce with the same ex
penditure of liorse power, and also lo
horses and wagons. An abundance of
surplus fruits and vegetables are an
nually left on the farm to decay on ac
count of impassable roads, whereby
both the producer and the consumer
?re losers. Both pay the penalty for
bad roads. Such occurrences are by
no means infrequent in all parts of
the country, tlood roads also promote
social intercourse, enable the farmer
to take his family to visit his neigh
bors, attend church and to keep hi*
children iu school during all seasons
of the year. The inconvenience ex
perienced from the lack of good roads
is one of the reasons why so many
persons, particularly the young men,
become discouraged with country life
and leave for the city, and why so few*
give up the city for the country, ex
cepting for a temporary sojourn at
llhat season of the year when nature itf
at her best iu the country and worst
in the city. With good roads neigh
bors would be more neighborly,
churches more prosperous, and the
school districts would be enlarged, so
us to enable them to have better
school houses, better school teachers
Slid better schools.
Now that these facts regarding had
roads exist, no person denies. And
naturally the question arises, Can
these condition* be improved? There
are many ways in which this enn be
done, but to do it right everybody ad
mits that it can be done only by the
expenditure of money and labor, a* in
all other internal Improvements. The
most economical plan is not n I way a
the best and wisest to pursue. The
better highways the better services
they render, and greater will become
the value of property adjacent there
to.
California Oiled Road*.
Within jibe last Ave years the Cal
ifornia roadinakers have made rapid
advancement from the first period
when oil "was used simply to lay the
dust to a second and far more mo
mentous one in which permanent roads
are being constructed with it. The
oiled road costs about one and a half
cent per square foot, while aspbaltum
costs fifteen cents, and a powdered
granite road is nearly twice as expen
sive as the oil, where there Is the same
relative situation as to material. I'.nh
bcr tires are not injured by the oiled
road, as was claimed at first, and the t
surface does not soften ns asphalt
roads do, and Is not so easily cut up by
wagon tires. Indeed, it Is mid that
oiled roads are the most important dis
covery In roadmaklng for dusty conn- |
tries that has ever been made. Where
these conditions can bejuet a beautiful
Voad may be constructed, differing but
little in appcarance from an asphal
turn road, and having all its advan
tages without any of Its drawbacks. At
present there are about 1000 miles. of
these roads In California.? Country
Life In America.
?y'Yf* rift
Kflli of Bad KoiAl,
The people of the United Stales nre
becoming more thoroughly convinced
of the evils of bad roads. Good roads
are conducive to peace, prosperity nmt
civilisation, while bad roads are the
earmarks of poverty, Ignorance, super
stition and barbarism. The fact that
a great majority of our public high- t
ways are in a most deplorable condi
tion, Infinitely worse than those of less
progressive countries, Is quite appar
ent. Especially is this the condition
of afTalrs during the winter season,
when those llvtng in the rural districts
are compelled to use the roads In mar
keting their products and In the edu
cation #f their children.