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Impressions Ma Qe *'/' p* by the Big Treeur] By Stewart Edward White. T HE public at torse, I Imagine? meaning by that yoa and me. and oar neighbors ? harbor an Idea that the Big Tree occur* only as a -remnant, 19 scattered little groves carefully fenced and piously visited by the tourist. What would we have said to the infor mation that In the very heart of the Sierras there grows a thriv ing forest of these great trees; thst it takes over a day to ride throughout that forest? And that it comprises probe bly over (,000 specimens? Yet such is the esse. On the ridges end high plsteeus north of the Kaweah Hirer Is the forest I describe; snd Of that forest the trees grow from fifteen to twenty-six feet in diameter. Do you know^what that means? Get up from your chair and pace off the room you are ia. If it is a very big room* Its longest dimension would just about contain one of the bigger trunks. Try to Imagine a tree like that. It must be columnar tree, straight and true as the supports of a Greek facade. The least deviation from the perpendicular of such a mass would cause It to fall. The limbs are sturdy like the arms of Hercules, and grow out from the main trunk to themselves, as is the case with other trees. The column rises with a true taper to its full height; then is finished with the conical effect of the top of a monument. Strangely enough, the frond is exceedingly fine, and the cones small. When first you catch sight of a Sequoia, it does not lmoress you partlcu , larly, except as a very fine tree. Its proportions are so perfect that Its effect ts rather to belittle its neighbors than to show In it* true magnitude. Then, gradually, as your experience takes cognizance of surroundings ? the sine of a sugar-pine, of a boulder, of a stream flowing near ? the giant swells and swells , before your very vision, until he seems at the last even greater 'than the mere statistics of his inches had led you to believe. . Perhaps the most insistent note, besides that of mere size and dignity, is of absolute stillness. These trees do not sway to the wind; their trunks .are constructed to stand solid. Their branches do not bend and murmur, for they, too. are rigid in fiber. Their fine threadlike needles may mstch the breeze's whisper, may draw together and apart for the exchange of confldences as do the leaves of other trees, but If so, you and I are too far blow to distinguish it. All about the other forest growths may be rustling and bowing and singing with the voices of the air; the Sequoia stands in the hush of an absolute calm. It is as though he dreamed, too wrapt in still- great thoughts of his youth, when the earth itself was young, to share the worldlier Joys of his neighbor, to be aware of them, even himself to breathe deeply. You feel in the presence of these trees as you would feel in the presence of a kindly end benignant sage, too occupied with larger things to enter fully Into your little affairs. This combination of dignity, immobility, and a certain serene detachment has on me very much the same effect as does a mountain against the sky. It Is quite unlike the impression made by any other tree, hovever large, and Is lovable. ? From "The Mountains," in the Outlook. The Complex, Not Me Simple Life By ? F\ R. W." A LL this talk about the simple life strikes ecikcs of ** a little out of time and place at present. "Omnia vanitas" is the de spairing cry of the old man whose future has faded into disap pointing reality; of a decadent civilisation that has drained the cup and has lost all faith in the "worth-whiteness" of life. It is the cry for rest. Cynics were in place In the last act of the Roman Empire, but what use for them has this age? Above all, what use for them has Amer ica, that looks with eyes of faith toward the future, and girds itself like a vig orous youth about to enter the race of life? Let us hear rather the praises of the complex life. Is not all evolution the proper growth from simplicity to complexity? Should the amoeba or the nolusk be held up as an improvement on the human frame, or barbaric sim plicity as a pattern for civilization? The careworn man, distracted by bulls and bears and margins, by political mad social aspirations, may be a fool in philosophical eyes; but I should say rather, glory to this man of ambition who toils ceaselessly for a higher posi tion, social or political. Glory to the strenuous worker, the martyr who aacriflces happiness and ease to ambition and hence to the real progress of the race. Is it to him, or to Diogenes in his barrel that we owe what we have attained? * It is easy to give up hope In our civilized complexity, to cry "All Is van ity/' and to sigh for rest. But to toll on with unshaken faith ? I? there no nriArit <n The Secret qf Yankee Success By T. P. O'Connor. I M that place called Monte Carlo every time the wheel turns and the ball rolls Into its place it marks a fresh condition of the game, an absolutely new chance which has nothing whatever to do with anything that has gone before or is to appear in the future. Each spin is the year one of the bank. Therefore the bank xvh'iS. America has appreciated the year one, and that fact has not been unconnected with Yankee success. You will And that a man loses money as n rarmer, a mechanic, a book canvasser, and suddenly lises to wealth as a builder. The pes has found the hole at last. An Englishman, unappreciative of the year one. would have been chained to failure by the precedent of centuries. He would have argued that he had always been a farmer, that his father wa,s a farmer and his uncle a dairyman. Therefore it was plainly Impossible that he could ever make njonev as a builder. In conclusion* ho would have quoted you that falsest of all false proverbs. "A rolling stone gathers no moss." I say "false" only In tho English application of the ancient proverb. For otherwise it is an up-to-date motto enough. The rolling stone of today remains polished and fit for business. The stationary stone Is liable to accumulate such a quantity of moss that It Is only fit for a cushion ? to ba sat on by all and sundry. There Is in America today an exemplification of the principle of the year one i.i a newspaper proprietor with somo eighty thousand pounds rt year to his credit. Until he was over fifty years of age he was a farmer, and not a very efficient farmer at that. Then he started his paper, and away he went on the road to success. How many of our farmers could change their trade after fifty? Living a Lie. Those People Who Dress op Live Beyond Their Means By O. S. Marden. D RESS1NQ or living beyond one's means Is nothing less than abso lute dishonesty. If you are trying to do what you cannot afford to do, you are living a lie; if you are wearing clothes that you cannot afford, they are perpetual witnesses against you. They are labeled all over with falsehood; your Jewelry, your carriages, I your furs and your costly gowns tell mo that you are rich when you live in ? poverty-stricken home and whan vonr nmthn? to obliged to make all sorts of sacrifles to enable you to make this false display, you lie Just as surely as you would If you should try to deceive me by your words. Tho consciousness of being well dressed, and yet owing for It, of riding In carriages which one cannot afford, or of patronizing expensive hotels and restaurants which ono cannot by any stretch of imagintlon or sophistry afford, Is destructive to all rcspect, to truth and honesty and to manhood' and to womanhood. You cannot afford to wear lies or to eat lies any inorc than you can afford to tell lies. There Is only ono possible result upon character of falsehoods whether acted or told, and that Is porpetual deterioration arid demoralization. No one can live a lie, or act a lie, without being dishonest. When a man sacfllces his honesty he loses the mainspring of his character, and he cannot bo per fectly honest when he Is lying by frequenting costly hotels or restaurants by Wearing expensive clothing or by extravagant living when he cannot afford it ? Success. Fuji Was Out. There Is In Japan a great ?now capped mountain called Fuji, which Shlntolsts worship, and whioh nearly ?11 tourists make It a point to visit. Dr. Oliver O. J. Schadt, president of the People's College in Philadelphia, lately returned from St. Petersburg and the Bast, relates* that an Ameri can woman who recently toured Ja pan was asked if she had visited Fuji. "Well, yes; in a way t did." answer Mondei. That love l? dead I krfow not who tc r.nmr For venture now. I sometime* think, In hU ml ,Of inv own wlf. you are the one tc tlame 'I'hut love Is dead. The ros* for mo will never he n* red. Now thnt Wl vcpntnte; no more the *nme Tlio pomp of Hummer on the hills b? MprcAd, Thut love ?* dead. Ard *r"l of shove enjoyment row wlllelatm The noon of night, whon dimmer over head The silver crescent hides In mlat, foi shame Thst love Is d?-ad. ? AJonio Rlo?, In Ln'i llipilM. / * ed the woman. "I called to ate her one afternoon but ahe happened ta bo out." A Tennessee churcfi has taken out an Injunction to prevent certain of Its members from Installing an organ in the church. Nt>w If .It will tune out an Injunction to prevent the soprano from Insisting on ringing a aolo every Sunday all will be well, thinks the At> lanta Journal. World's Sugar Production. The total production of sugar throughout the world Is about 2,000. 000 tons per annum. Of this quantity nine-tenths aro afforded by the sugar cane. 2fi, 000.000 tons of which are re quired to produco the above quantity of cane suRar. The total value of the sugnr In the cane, It' It. could l?e ex* tracted, would bo about $200,000,000. but one-hnlf Is lost In tho process of manufacture. Aomo men are so busy solving ths labor problem that they have no tims wQ oarn thslr own living. W Jm/ id bugles played; ear*. and tears. ? Every day, eTerr^di^Bettinj your back 'And alt your reward forever not quite A full bit* Of bread for your babies. Say! In the beat of the day You might be a hero to head a brigade, , But a hero like her? I'm afraid! I'm afMidf It might be very feasible to force a great reform. To saddle public passion and to ride upon tha atorm; . I It might be somewhat simple to ignor* thft rdkr of wrath. Because a necond shout broke out to cheer |ovQg vo?r path. But he who, alone and unknown, is trqa ? To his view. Unswenred by the crush of the mutton-browed Biatting crowd, Unwon by the flabby-brained, blinking, cast. Which he sees Throned and anointed. Say! At the height of the frar. You might be the chosen to captain the throng; But to stand all alone? How long? How long? ? Edmund Vance Cooke, in Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post. I A Strange Temptation, t .1 14 By Sidney J. Murray. I T'S all settled. Kit," cried > a slim, beautiful girl, in a ? hard, despairing voice tliat 1 she ' lierself knew was strange; "no more poverty, and no ? more pinching. We've lind our share mid enough of it, aud now we'll have 110 more." The speaker drew off her gloves leis urely, and held her hands to the ruddy blaze. ? She looked wondrously beautiful an ?he bent there, her eyes a thousand miles a'way through the glowing coal, and with the firelight playing around her aquiline nose and perfect iips. And as she stood, her sister watched her in the gathering twilight, and thought she never -saw her look so beautiful, nor yet so truly strange. "Oh. Mabel, have you really accepted the darling old millionaire at last? How truly delightful!", Kitty jumped up from the sofa and clapped her hands, her face express ing intense delight. Oh, how beauti ful to have Just as much money as you want, and everything you can set your mind on It! Truly, the prospect was grand, and Kitty laughed with her seventeen-year-old laugh, and danced prettily with all the abandon and Jol lify of seventeen years. She completed the circuit by halting at her sister's side, who still gazed into the firelight, with her face filled with an odd mingling of love nnd bit terness. Kitty knew full well what was passing lu Mabel'* mind, and she, but yet seventeen, could not feW. or had not lived long enough to feel, what It was or what it meant. And yet she was Just a little somber. Just a little depressed, as she put one hand Into her sister's and the other round her shoulders. "Poor Mab!" she said; "how sad you look !" < "I have reason to bo sad." responded Mabel, with a short, hollow laugh; "I've chosen the road that's to be mine till death!" A catch in her voice that was hot natural to Mabel caused Kitty to draw her closer and comfort her as best she could; and ns she thought of nil It meant, and nil It would bring to them both, she burst Into a reckless laugh that became seventeen years so ?well. "You have chosen just what I should ??wenlth. Oil. think of it. Mabel! Think what our future will be when you are mistress of Mr. Johnson's lovely mansions and fortune! Hut 1 knew j ou d do it, Mabel. I knew vou would. It's Just what I should have done myself." "Don't, Kit. don't." pleaded Mabel, In a voice so strained and sad that Kitty looked up alarmed: "you don't know what you're saying, and you don't know what you mean. You have never been called upon by stern neces sity to sacrifice your own true love, who Is ail the world to you, to marry an old man's millions." "No. I haven't," replied Kitty, quick ly, with all the determination of her experience, "but If I had to I would. I shouldn't hesitate a single minute between the young love without a dol lar. nnd millions? and especially if the owner of the millions chanced to be ?uch a fine-looking man as Mr. John son is, and you know," she went on, coloring a little, "he is really hand some, Mabel, and he Is only forty. I wish It was me he was going to marry, and not you." A smile overspread Mabel'* features, and she laughed outright. The Idea of such a charming slip of loveliness an Kitty being the wife of a middle-aged millionaire! It wns too absurd. "Anyway," continued Kitty, feeling that something wns expected of her in extenuation of her conduct, and pout ing a little, "you should take it more happily. It isn't light not to." And then, as Kitty turned to the tea things on the table, the hunted, pained ?Ok swept back fnto Mabel's pale face, nnd she sighed heavily. "IIow thoughtless she Is," she mur mured. "and cruel. It seems a light tiling, this, to give up niy love for pelf for her sake. Yes." she said, half savagely, "for her sake, not mine. If it were not for her his money would have been as dirt to me. 1 know what poverty is. but the bitterness Is swec! compared with a life without love, without him. And he comes here to night. and, Oo l forgive me. I must tell him." and a shudder shook her frame. "Mabel," cried Kitty, ns lightly and ns happily ns though ill-starred loves had never come her wny, "tea's all ready." and then Mabel tried her best to look pleased nnd happy, and told Kitty what happened to her In her ca pacity as daily governess, nnd Kitty had some new story to tell of dear delightful Mr. Johnson. "I>ear. darling Mab." thought Kitty, as hor eyes rested fondly upon her sis ter. "I've never had a trouble yet bless her dear old heart, but what she hasn't helped me out of It; and now she's going to lift us right out of tho worst trouble of all? tbis horrid pror ?rty." And later, ?when Iliu1olf Turner, Ma bel's handsome, manly lover, came upon the scene. Kitty ran off to spend her evening with Ada Brown, who had the flat below. "Poor chap," thought Kitty, commls eratlngly, as she saw the hopeful love light in his eyes as he rested his gaze upou all he loved in the world, "you'll be sent away to-night, I know; I'm awfully sorry for you, but, after all. it can't be helped. What is love, any way, when It means everlasting prov erty? She'll forget all about it when she Is Mrs. Johnson. Why, it'll be just like fairyland after this!" And pretty Kitty, worldly because she had never felt the fire of love, went off to Ada Brown. And those two? They remained to gether. with all they both loved, in that small room. She had kept him hoping on for weeks, trying to decide the bitter struggle that raged in her breast. Now that it was all over, she knew her course, and he was to hear it to night. ?, How she told him she knew not; a dull clutching held her heart, and she was conscious only of those words which would keep them apart for ever more. As through a curtain that seemed to hide from her the fearful wrong she wrought, she saw his face become deadly pale, and his eyes darken with u strange despair. "And this is the end!" he said. In a low. hoarse voice that sought her heart, and stilled it; "this is the end I dreaded! These are the last of those enchanted dreams that kept me for you, and you for me ? crushed beneath the feet of the womaa I worshiped, the woman I loved with all my heart and soul, better than life itself? ruined and scat tered by you M "Don't, Rudolf, don't reproach me," sh<j solilted. "I don't reproach you, Mabel; why should I ? According to the world, you have done wisely. You have chosej) what is worthy of beauty such as yours? and what matters it that you have walked over one man's blooding heart to gain it?" II is answer was her sobbing and her quivering frame; and he rose. CouUl she lose him like that? ??Rudolf," she said, "it is for Kitty's sake? not mine? don't, oh, don't judge me harshly." "For her sake! What of mine?" he said, with a hard, cold laugh? uml he was gone. The next day the millionaire's be trothal ring, a magnificent circlet of diamonds and rubies, glistening on Ma bel's lovely hand, and, urged by her fiancee and Kitty, she consented to an early wedding. Mr. Johnson was a constant visitor at the little flat, and Kitty, whom he treated as a petted sister, was never tlrvd of expatiating at great lengths on his charms to Mabel. She thought he was absolutely tire most delightful man she had ev<r met, and how stupid it was of Mabel not to fall in love with him! Mabel smiled when she listened to these extravagant comments, and, ex cept when alone, contrived to keep her face so bright and so radiant, that it was little wonder Kitty only half gue-^ed what a sacrifice Mabel was making. The days rolled on, am" It was Just a week before the day appointed for the wedding, that Mabel, while on a shop pirg tour, came upon an old friend of he/ schooldays. "And do you know, Mabel," she snhl at parting, "that Rudolf Turner is seri ously 111 with brain fever. They tell me It Is some love trouble. Poor fe.'.ow. 1 hope he gets over It." .Mi that evening and the nert morn-' In:: Mabel was lost In her own dismal thoughts. It was late In the afternoon when she suddenly-' sprang up. and. white and resolute, flung away her sewing, the light of passion firing her eyes. "Kitty, I can't and won't stand it an hour longer!" she cried; "Rudolf Tur ner is perhaps dying, aud he Is mine! I am going to him." I "Mabel." said Kitty, "are yoti mad?" ! "I have been, but I'm san > once ' *>iore! My heart is Rudolf's, and he ..lone shall have It!" She wrenched away her betrothal ring, and threw It. Into her sjpter's inp. "There!" she said; "give it back to Mr. Johnson, if he comes, and tell him the marriage is not to be." And. before Kitty could find words, she was alone. Long after, when Mabel returned, her face held such exquisite happiness that Kitty started up In wonder. "Oh, Mabel, how happy you look! I know you r.re now." "Yes, dear, I an. happy, and so is Ru dolf: and he will get well, and then " Hut she bethought herself of what she left behind and her face (lushed with pain. "I>Id he come? Poor boy!" "Don't be sorry, Mab," returned Kitty, very demurely, and ;wlth ? d<*p|y fll kwt you h] }fl Ut jBj&ty flui uttflv, I ? toSKPi".* r?piW*ltty. slm* | ply. There were two weddings a little later from the tint, ciul. Immediately after, Mr. Johnson presented Mabel with a check for ten thousand pounds. . "Will you have It?" he asked, "as a wedding gift from j*our brother and alster? Kit says it includes both love and pelf."? New York Werkly. The proposed bore-hole twelve mifes deep has brought out the objection that the great pressure of forty tons per square inch would cause a viscous flow of rock material, making the feat impossible. The IIou. A. C. Parsons replies that this idea can be tested | by subjecting a piece of quartz rock to a pressure of one hundred tons per square inch in a close-fitting cylinder having a small hole through its centre. | This pressure is that expected at a depth of thirty-eight miles. The value of evidence has been tested experimentally by M ile Marie Borst. I Iler subjects were twelve males and twelve females, and within a period of six weeks there were shown five scenes from daily life, which they were after ward required to describe in writing, and about which they were then in terrogated orally. Statements under oagt were required. The results show that accurate evidence is rare, that evi dence improves by practice, thai the evidence of women is more faithful and complete than that of men. but thnt one-twelfth of the sworn state ments are incorrect. The bioscope of De Gasparls, which constituted a late striking exhibit in Naples, i? a microscope of very long focus, the rock-mounted tube contain ing a system og achromatic objectives and an eye-piece of wide field. The magnifying power is somewhat noro than twelve diameters at a distance of twenty Inches. The new Instrument gi\es revelations that are marvelous, as It shows the actions and emotions' of such creatures as ants, spiders and files in their ordinary undisturbed life, gives wonderfully clear views of the doings of aquatic auimals, and enables the medical man to peer into the larynx and other body cavities as never be fore. It opens a new era in the study of nature. Museums of language will be of grent Importance to the future historian. The Idea was suggested in Vienna six years ago, but has only recently tnken shape, although it has alreadj' resulted in a collection of <400 phonograph records on durable metal. The purpose is to record the languages of Europe, and e\ eutually of the world, the music of the different countries and speeche* Of notable personages. The co'.lcetlon now embraces the Slavic, Servian, modern Greek, Portuguese and Brazilian lan guages, with songs and dialects of na tives of India and of Arabians and Be douins. An expedition under Dr. roeeh has peuetratert New Guinea to repro duce the speech of the Papuans. An extraordinary use of the same sleeping quarters by diurnal and noc turnal animals is recorded by a natural ist of Ceylon. Barberyn Lighthouse Island, thirty-five miles south of Co lombo, is inhabited by day by fruit bats or flying foxes, and at night by crows, and at sunrise and sunset may be seen the curious spectacle of two immense (lucks (lying in opposite direc tions across the strait separating the Island from the mainland, the flying foxes at a greater elevation than the crows. The cross migration lasting nbout half an hour, is attended by great chattering of flying foxes anil cawing of crqws. .Ambnsrador Af?y?r and King Victor,' Itoman society has suffered a double loss lately in the appointment to Paris of both the British and American Am bassadors, until now accredited to the Quirlnal. Mr. George von Lengcrke Meyer, tho Transatlantic representative, has won golden opinions for himself here as a sportsman and an all-round "good fel low," being a favorite with the King and a great friend of the Duke d'Aosta. Ills motor car is one of the best known In Itome, and so far has never killed any one! One day he took the King out in it, nnd feeling that law as well as majesty was at bis side, kept well within the speed limits. His majesty ?aid nothing at first, ami then intl mated that they were taking some time in arriving. Mr. Meyer made one effort to escape responsibility and hinted that If they outdistanced the royal bicycl ists the King would be without protec tion. "Not at all," said King Victor, , drawing a small revolver from bis pocket, "with this I can defy any one:" The bicyclists arrived half an hour after, draggled, worn and out of breath. Mrs. M fryer may be said to keep open house. The Brancncclo Paloce seems made to show off her charming person ality and the delicate beauty of her compatriots. It is an embassy at which society oxpccts-and Is never dis appointed? to meet youth and beauty, seo the lotest thing in gowns, admire the most gorgeous jewels, eat the sea son's greatest delicacy nnd dance the newest dance.A-Itomo Correspondence In London Pali Mall Gazette. Canned Milk Preferred. It was her first vlsif to the country, i Mie never before had' been out of Chi cago. Everything she saw was n fresh dfilight. Eve In the garden could not have found it more novel. The cows especially Interested her. At milking time slie clung so closelv to tho hired man that to free himself ho gave her a cup of nefv milk, warm and frothy from the pail, fche to0k n deep draught. Then such consternation was pictured in tho pretty, piquant face that her mother cried: "What Is It, Dorothy?" Oh," she sobbed In disgust and dls f.TSlST"-. 7. <lon,t ,,kc i Its horrid. I like mllkmnn't milk."*- I Chicago Record-Herald, ) OUR. GIRLS ANDB013 * " BOT WEATHKJL ? I It's tsx-timc when it freezes, it't oojr-timt when it snows; The Youngster is the one whose lot is OipLiint when it mows. It's rough on rheums t ism, Ant! it seriously annoys The dignity of grown folks, *? t ' But it's pretty good for boys. It's iust another instance When nature makes it plain That in the mighty seheme of things There's nothing made in vain. Bo let's forget our sorrows In a fellow-being's joys. The weather's hard on grown folks. But it's pretty good for boys. ?Washington Star. A BUCKET RACE. Tlere Is a now pastime for the days when it is cold enough to cull your skates out. An old broom nnd a bucket are nec essary for each player. The buckets should be filled to the brim with water and set iu front of their respective owners. The object Is to push the filled buck ets of water a Riven distance across the ice? the player who succeeds In traversing the distance in the quickest time wUm, providlrjr '*? retains more HOW THX XACER8 APPEAR. water In his buckct than the other*. But if he spills more than does the boy who comes in secoud, then the order of finishing is reversed, and the second boy in point of speed wins. A rule can be used to measure the amount of water remaining in the buckets. If you are giving a skating party and want to introduce some novelties, you will And the bucket race will make a lilt as one of them, as well as affording the slower and more careful skaters a chance to "even up" on their speedier ajul more careless friends.? New York Evening Telegram. ?*; LITTLE PETT5. Some time ago a consignment of hom ing or carrier pigeons left Sau Fran cisco for Auckland, New Zealand, to be used in carrying communications between Auckland and the (.rent Har rier Island; and among the Utile feath ered messengers was a bird named Pete, which belonged to me. Pete was always known as a wise fellow, his in telligence at times causing people to marvel. But Pete was a tramp; that is, ho could not be depended on if sent on a long trip, often loitering on the way to hunt food or to play, per haps staying out hours when he should have been absent only minutes. So l'ete was shipped away to b:? used as a loft bird? one which stays at the home loft to attract returning messengers. Well, he went this time because he couldn't help it; but his cunning played a line trick on his new owners. This bird was taken 2000 miles by land to San Francisco; 2080 miles by water to Hawaii; thence 22 lo miles by water to tlio Samoa n Islands; thence Woo miles by water to Auckland? in all nearly 8000 miles, and? now Pete is at home again! The homecoming of this bird is little short of marvelous, and this is how he accomplished it. Watching care fully for an opportunity to escape after landing at Auckland. Pete took to bis wings, and finding in the harbor the vessel which bad carried him so far from home, he radiated from its masts In every direction, searching for a fa miliar scene or object, which, of course, he could not llnd so many thousand miles away from bis American dove cote. However, lie stayed near the ship, perhaps thinking it would return to America; but when the vessel Anally steamed out, headed for Australia In stead of the United States, Pete de serted his perch and struck out straight toward his home laud. So It happened tlint the Lucy Belle, on old-fashioned sailing vessel laden with lumber from the Samoan Islands, when three days from Christmas Island, was boarded by an almost exhausted stranger, and the stranger was nobody in the world but j Mr. Pete. As the old sailor Is a very superstl ! tlons being, l'ete was welcomed amid cries of wonder at encountering a hom ing pigeon In the middle of the Pacific Ocean and was allowed to ride wher ever he chose on shipboard. Tho bird was kindly treated and fed, and one day, during a storm which frightened lii tn and drove the little tramp to shel ter on deck, It was discovered that he carried a small tag on one leg, bearing a number ami his name. He was placed in nf box with slats for bars, and in this condition arrived in San Francisco /Bay with the Lucy Hello, Just as huppy at sight of land as any member of the crew, who considered him a mascot, ?The story of the Lucy Hello's mascot soon spread among the slilprolk along the wharves, and in a few hours Pole was identified as having been shipped some weeks before for Auckland. Then it was that the people understood that the crafty fellow was homeward bound. All this Is wonderful enough, but the fact that Pete reached home unaided over 2000 miles of land route Is, per haps, only less wonderful, Bu\ he did. lov It was argued on the I. ucy- Relief a bird possessing a l>rain wise enoi. to figure out an ocean voyage eol reach his houie on. land; antl aft some debate the sailors, seem fastened a little story to Pete's W reciting liis adventures s? fat; as knoi to them, and turned him loose. H< the dear little wanderer ins wl home he alone can tell. It took Pete nine days to lrnrel '2<KM> miles, in covering which, course, he must have stopped ofttenj for. if he could have gone stralgl home, the distance conhl have be made in thirty or forty hour*, who had sent him ott to Australia h<( not the slightest idea that he was fhid side of the equator or of the work when, one morning not lor.g ago. Ml IVte quietly hopped down from tb< home loft and, without any fu<< what ever, joined his males .-it :: J't^akfal of com, wheat and crumirs! Now, what ilo you think <>f him? lie will never be sent away a gall for there is not sutllciciit money a| tht disposal of any one man to secure liim If you know of any girls or hoys wh?. are discontented at home, show then this story of IVte. who ?o loved htf. humble al>ode of rough hoard and bar* straw that he outwitted cunning roe! and defied the risks and hardships Ot an 8000-mile journey over sea and lan< in the effort to return to his lioiue.^ St. Nicholas. A ri*il*<tolptitB Oaltant. f i There Is nothing that astonishes woman so much as meeting a man wh C takes her at her word. A certain ver Impetuous young woman, living In tl> suburbs of this city, experienced th un!?iue sensation when she attend* a musical*? given by a friend and m' a specimen of the too literal male. Si was about to leave the house wb? her hostess called after her: "Oh. dot; tlihik of going out on such a stbril night alone. Mr. G. will be glad to | with you, won't you, Mr. turnil to a gentleman at her right. "I>ellgtl ? ed," said the would-be escort, beamit on the young woman, and he sljpp^ ? 011 bis overcoat and stood ready wit? ' hat and umbrella in hand. "Oil, pleat don't bother," sr.id the protesting gl t "you know I am quite accustomed 1 going out alone; I am not the least b afraid. I nearly always leave here ur. escorted." "Oh, well, if that Is th { case," said the stupid man, "I don need to go, then. I would not think 4 interfering with your lifelong habits. And without giving the iudependes. young woman a chance t<> avail hM *elf of his escort he threw off ids ovePr. coat and joined a pretty blonde at th# end of the hallway.? Philadelphia llecord. ? ; I?- I 11?? Doc Lull; licit, c I The proprietor of Third avcmut sto owns a little black Uitu-n that eul / vales a habit of squalling on 1 haunches, like a boar or a kangaroo) ami thc!i sparring with it< foivpawd, at 11 it li.ul taken lessors from a pugilist. A gentleman took into ; lie store the other evening an enormous black do& hall' Newfoundland. half collie, fat, good-natured ami intelligent. Tile tinjj black kitten, instead nf no'.tiug at OUCf for shelter, retreated a !'. \v paces, *a( erect on its hind less, and "put lists" in an attitude of d. !i.i nee. Thq contrast in size betwceji tin- two \fai immensely amusing. 1' ivinindt'd on? of Jack the <!iant Kill -r preparing t<j demolish a giant. Slowly, and without n sign citabllily. the huge iiog walked as his chain would allow him. n gazed intenily at the kiiicti ami it? o posture. Then. a* (I;.- comicality of the situation struck him. h.? turned head nml shoulders around to the g| tators. and if animal ever laughed the world thai dog as ur?dtyi didj then and there. He neither barked growled, but indulged in a low chuck] while eyes and mouth beamed wlt| merriment.? New York Telegram ^ of r j as / A Patriotic "Mutiny.", *'? "Crow mutinied. Proceeding to inoutli," was 1 ho signal of the Britl steamer Kiiwitldcn read by the It out 111:111 at the Lizard tin1 otlief aft?fl noon. On arrival of the voftfcel at Kalm< tlio whole of the harbor police, as as tin? town police, had mustered ileal with tlio mutineers. O11 hoar< the Kuwiddcn, however, tliey as<| tallied that the whole ??f the flrei>; seven in number, and :ili Bridal had merely refused duty. The Knwiddeii left Newport on 1 day, bound with coals for La' Pli When two days out the tireineu pectcil that the destination of tin sol wan not La Plata but the Far Ell] and that the coal was intended for Baltic tleet. They t hereupon 'reini further duty, but untlerhiok to coal' tires if the ship was put back to nearest British port. There wa?' violence. Asked why I10 signalled such alarming messnne t ?? the Lizard, captain replied that he thought, b( New Year's hay. the authorities not be on the alert to receive less ho frightened thein.? Lo) Chronicle. (itoyf* Not ? Necr-nilty. "This thing of wearing gloves to', your bauds warm." said a rony-fi policeman, "is about the biggest fj 1 know of. There is nothing In i| have been a cop for twenty years, 1 I have never worn a glove, wlnte. <M1iiimcr, except when the rule*) of department compelled me to do bo, then I did it under protest. Oil hinder the free circulation of the blj and that mokes your hind* cold, face get used to the cold, anil , better In frosty weather than at other time, and so will the handi you let thein aloue."? New York 81 \ -