Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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TUK l iCDGEU: QAFFNEV, S. C„ NOVEMBER 18, 3 THE GREAT MUSICAL CRITIC. On '4 on » HailTu ith time the nlghtinKale, whoso singing her p’-nises sot tho forest ringing, ron^-ntcd at a eoneert to appear. Of course her friends all Hooked to hear And with them many a critic, wide awake To pick a flaw or carp at a mistake. Mio sang as only nightingales can sing, And when she ended There was a general cry ofBrava! Splen did!” While she, poor thing. Abashed and flattering, to her nest retreated, t^uite torrilied to lie so warmly greeted. The turkeys gobbled tliMr delight. The geese, Who had lieen known to luss at many a trial, Gave this one no denial. It seemed as if the applause wonld never cease. Bnt ’mong the critics on the ground An ass was present, pompous and profound, Who said: ‘‘My friends, I’ll n<.t d:;*>ute the . honor That you would do our fl: tie prima donna. Although her upper notes are very shrill And she defies all method in her trill, Bhe has some talent, and, upon the whole, With study may some cleverness attain. Then, her friends tell me, she's a virtuous soul But—but”— ‘‘But,” growled the lion, ‘‘hy my nr me, I never knew an ass who did not strain To qualify a good thing with a but!” “Nay," said the goose, approaching with a strut. ‘‘Don’t interrupt him, sire. Let him proceed. The ass is honest. That wo all concede.” ‘‘I was aliout,” said Long Ear, ‘‘to remark That there is something lacking in her whistle— Something magnetic To awaken chords and feelings sympathetic And kindle in the breast a spark Like—like, for instance, a good, juicy thistle.” The assembly tittered, but the fox, with grav ity. haul to the lion, winking, ‘‘Our learned friend, with his accustomed suavity. Hus given his opinion without shrinking; But, to do jpstioo to the nightingale. He should inform us, as no doubt lie will. What sort of music 'tis that does not fail His sensibilities to course and thrill.” “Why,” said the critic, with a look potential, And, pricking up his oars, delighted much At reynard's tone and manner deferential, ‘‘Why, sir, there's nothing can so deeply touch My feelings and so carry me away As a fine, mellow, ear inspiring bray." ‘‘Ah, yes!" the fox returned, without a pause. ‘‘80 far as you're concerned, vour judg ment’s true. . You do not like the nightingale because The nightingale is not an ass like you.” —E. Clark in Youth's Companion. MISS IIASCOM'S CLUB. ‘‘Betty Baseom was here today, ” said Mrs. Miller, looking up after she had finished counting the stitches on her knitting needles. Mr. Thonms Miller laid down his newspaper. ‘‘What did the princess royal have to say for herself?” ho asked. ‘‘Elizabeth is a missionary of culture, Tom.” Mrs. Miller laughed. ‘‘She thinks our lives are narrow, so she’s going to start a club—a woman’s club. It’s to be literary—we’re to read and enlarge onr minds and write papers. It’ll be hard for us at first to write papers, and may rie, who, with her high spirits and defi ance of all rules, pervaded the town like a whirlwind, and when Bi tty heard that Dell had dubbed her Qu* on Eliza beth and was making some bets on the subject of the new club she held her chin in the air and said: ‘‘1 shall draw the line at Dell Rob- ef:s. I just simply can’t stand her.” Betty, tall, slender, self conseions and patronizing, with her head held high and dressed in the prettiest of gowns, was the presiding spirit of tho occasion. Fortified with much previous study of a neat little volume of parliamentary rules for women, Betty steered her elub safely through the preliminary difficul ties of organization, and her ‘‘slate” was quite successful. The whole ticket was triumphantly elected, she being, of course, at the head of it. On this point she had been somewhat anxious, as pro priety seemed to forbid her nominating herself, but Mrs. Miller came to the res cue, that good lady being resolved to see the plan carried through intact. She had her innings when, in an inter im of the stupid parliamentary busi ness, a lively discussion arose as to the subject of the coming year’s study. Mrs. Sayles, a little woman whose grammar was not as good as her intentions, said she thought it would be so nice to study art. especially art in its relation to the home. A momentary silence followed this suggestion, and then Mrs. Miller re marked in her pleasant way that per haps a little preliminary course of his tory would be advisable before embark ing on so large an undertaking, and Martie Graves answered quickly, with a little flutter of embarrassment at the sound of her own voice: ‘‘Oh, Mrs. Miller, we girls are so tired of studying history, and it's so hard to remember. Don’t you think poetry would tie lovely? Why not have a Browning club?” ‘‘We should all like to know what our president thinks about it,” said Mrs. Miller, with a benevolent smile at Betty, who had with difficulty restrain ed herself while the others were talk ing, and now began eagerly: ‘‘Oh, don’t you think that wo all need something uplifting and broaden ing, something that will take us away from ourselves and our little daily tasks (“I wonder what hers are,” whispered one girl to another) and will give a wider horizon? Now, I know one book that will repay months of study. It is a book that I always go to when I am happy or when I am unhappy, and there is something in it for—for anything, ’ ’ she concluded in coufu ion, not knowing how to end her light and just catching the next whisper, ‘‘Is this to be a Bible class?” ‘‘The book I mean,” she continued with dignity, "is the‘Rubaiyat’ of Omar Khayyam, translated by Fitzgerald.” A blank silence prevailed for a mo- l meat, but Betty, the enlightened, had be we’ll bo afraid to try, but Miss I not expected familiarity with the Per- Thompson, being a schoolteacher, will f obably lie able to do something, and e and Betty Bascom will begin and show us how. “I’m sorry for that child, ” she re sumed, in response to a growl from her husband. “John Bascom and his wife have brought her up as a sort of queen, always let her have her own way and taught her that she was way up better than anybody else in Liberty Center. It's going to be real good sport to watch her, Tom; but, after all, I’m sorry for them.” ‘‘Miss Betty” meantime was in the first ardor of a new enterprise. Garden House and Betty’s own wardrobe show ed how carefully she had studied her “Life,” and she sat in the most approv ed attitudes among the most billowy cushions, with her very correct little tea table at her side, waiting for the other figures, male and female, to step out of “Life,” sit in their chairs, sip tea out of her cups and talk gossip with archly lifted chius, or lean over her in stylish i attitudes of devotion. But the people of ; Liberty Center didn’t care for tea—in | fact, to most of them it was a nauseous ■ dose, aud when they came they sadly j failed to harmonize with tho stage set- : ting. Betty began to realize with dismay that, though she had acquired all the machinery of living, there was really no ; occasion to set it going. Her father, j while most indulgent and admiring, still wanted his breakfast at 7 o’clock sharp and still insisted on the presence of his wife and daughter at the early | board. Dinner must continue to be at 12 o’clock aud tea at fl o’clock. Mrs. Bas- com, in most things us clay in her daughter’s hands, firmly refused to alter her own habits, which, indeed, required | no alteration, being the simple, suitable ways in which she had been brought up ! by a gentlewoman of the past genera- 1 tion. In despair she took to philanthro py. She would do a great work; she would enlarge the narrow, sordid lives j of the women she saw about her. This was just at the opi ning of the era when a woman’s elub was to bo as much a part of every village as the church or the schoolhousc, and Betty planned a club of which she was to be the guiding spirit. It never occurred to her that any of these plain neighbors of hers were al ready reading a little in their quiet way. They hud not been to school in Boston. Tho women of Liberty Center debated within themselves and with each other the propriety of accepting Betty's invi tation and allowing themselves to tie patronized by her, hut on the day fixed lor the first meeting they all assembled —some because of a certain half con cealed, respectful admiration for the glories of the “Bascom home,” some out of frankly expressed curiosity to see the new doings at “Bascoiu's,” some because they liked the idea of a club, no matter who started it, aud the rest be cause iu Liberty Center • invitations were not so plentiful that they could afford to refuse one. The one jierson rendered even a shade more consricuous by her absence than she would have bccii^iy her presence was Miss Dell Rob* erts/viut uuUmed daughter of the prai* sian poet. With the calmness of superi ority she contiuui d: “Perhaps you are not familiar with it,"and she opened at random a book that lay on the table beside her. “Let me read you these few Hues: ‘‘Come, f'.ll the cup, ami in tho fire of Hpring Your winter garment of repentance fling. Tho bird >f time has but a little way To flutter -and the bird is on the wing.” This didn’t seem quite appropriate, and Persian names, difficult to pro nounce, confronted her in the next quat rains. She turned the leaves somewhat confusedly. What were those lines that were to convince her hearers that this book was indeed what they needed for intellectual and spiritual inspiration? Shu tried again: ‘‘Yesterday this day's madness did prepare Tomorrow’s silence, triumph or despair. Drink! For you know not whence you came nor why. Drink! For you know not why you go nor where.” Now, Liberty Center was a prohibition town and a center of religious ortho doxy. The temperature fell, and Betty, self absorbed as she was, saw that her club was not yet ready for Dinar Khay yam. Closing the kook, she said with an air of tolerance that, much as she ! personally loved tho “Rubaiyat,” she' would not wish to have an undue share of influence in deciding on the work to \ be done, and that they must all express j their wishes. Mrs. Miller, always ready at a difficult moment, moved that each j one should come to the next meeting j armed with a topic written on a slip of j paper, from which it would be easy to 1 select by vote. This plan had been ac cepted with enthusiasm, and the ex- ' haunted clubwomen were more than j willing to adjourn to meet again a fort night hence. Then came Mrs. Bascom, followed by her maids carrying little tables, aud the good things for which the house was famous brought the meeting to an end with great eclat. Betty sat at her tea table and made tea, which gave her some satisfaction, even though no one drank it. Only a few days after tho first moot ing of the Woman’s elub Betty received the following letter: CiiicA..w, £epi. iu. j Miss Elizabeth Bascom: Dkak Madam—It may surprise you to re ceive a letter from a stranger, and I will be gin by explaining to you who I am. I have for many years been an exile from my native land and have traveled extensively in Europe, A 1 ia and Africa, making a profound study of orb-ntal languages and literature. I have es pecially devoted myself to the atudy of the “litil.alyat” of Omar Khayyam, that wonder ful poem tliut one can never study enough, ! and have lectured on it with much succetw both in F.ngland and in this country. You I have doubtless h<-ard of me, as my name ia well known among oriental scholars, of whom, I take it, you are one. Now, my dear Miss Bascom, you cannot hide your light under a bushel, and an item in the newspaper of your , irity has been copied widely enough to meet my eyes. From it I learn of your noble effort in liehalf of culture and of woman, and of how you have endiotvored to share the sweetness and light of the “Rubaiyat” with those j>oor •laves of ignorance. Would you like to have ma address a meeting of your elub? Pray drop me a line at the inclosed address, and I shall tie with you at the appointed time. It would suit me best to speak to your club on the Zlst. I am very truly your friend, Mks. H. Emii.t Hi'NiiKRr.ANP. Withuatcookultiug her parents Belt; answered ♦he letter with enthusiasm, warmly inviting Mrs Sunderland to come to Liberty • 'enter cm the evening of the 20tb, promising to meet her at the station and convey her to her own home. Mrs. Suud rland replied prompt ly, and, the arrangement being eonelud- ed, Betty casually mentioned the matter at the dinner table. Mr. Bascom re marked that Betty was certainly strik ing out in a new field iu getting a mis sionary woman iu the house, and Mrs. Bascom said doubtfully that she was afraid the visitor would prove to be a queer kind of person, but their daugh ter had them well in hand aud neither the father nor mother made any serious objection. That the function might be invested with all due pomp and circumstance the place of meeting was hastily changed from Mrs. Miller’s to the Bascom’s bouse, where the best bedroom was got ready and the fatted calf was killed. On the appointed evening Betty and her father drove to the station and welcom ed the distinguished guest. Peering ex citedly through the darkness, Betty could only discover that the personage was tall and slender, but her voice was rather disappointing. One would have expected the years of foreign residence to soften in some degree its sharp Ameri can tone, but in that respect Betty was perhaps a trifle less exacting since she was afflicted with a high voice herself. When she saw tho visitor in the lighted house, she was enchanted. Mrs. Sunder land was decidedly an interesting and extremely handsome person, with beauti ful, wavy, white hair, a rich complexion and dark eyes, partly hidden, however, by gold rimmed spectacles. In spite of the twang she spoke iu a slow, meas ured way, and with tho broadest of a’s. She walked, too, in a stately way, but with now and then a suggestion of youthful springiness. Altogether she seemed to Betty a fascinating bundle of contradictions. At the supper table she even succeeded iu'pleasing Mr. Bascom, but Mrs. Bascom looked at. her with doubt in her eye, and did not fail to see certain odd tricks of knife aud fork. As if with a subtle recognition of the one critical instinct among them, the guest once or twice glanced furtively aud half dcprecatingly at her host* ss. It was but a flash, iud, so far as Betty and her fa ther could see, all was going well. When they wont up stairs for the nigl”, Mrs. Sunderland peeped into Betty’s room, exclaiming: “Ah, the charming maiden bower! Let me come in. Miss Bascom, and see the nook where you sit and dream of Omar. Would you be shocked, dear, if you saw me yielding to tho habits of the orient?” Drawing a cigarette case from tho lit tle bag suspended at her waist, she took out a cigarette, ■which she proceeded to light. Betty wfk«, on the whole, pleas urably excited by this performance, though she would have considered it vulgar in a native of Liberty Center. “But I must put you near the fire place so that tho smoko will go up tho chimney,” she said hastily. “Papa is a perfect antitobacco fiend and can smell it a mile away. Now—I don’t believe it can get out of this room. ” They sat there for an hour or two, Betty becoming more aud more enchant ed with her new friend. Next day the club assembled in full force. Tho guest, seated in a chair of state and holding a bouquet of beauti ful, long stemmed roses—Betty’s gift— seemed at first strangely embarrassed for one so accustomed to address an audi ence. “My dear friend, Edward Fitzger ald, told me,” she at length began, “that he loved to hear me read the im mortal quatrains. That was shortly be fore his death, and it always gives mo a sad pleasure to read them. I seem to be communing with tho great Omar and the great Fitzgerald. Listen!” With an impressive wave of the hand she began to read. Verse after verso she read in a droning voice and then launched into a discourse that seemed to Betty to have a haunting familiarity. She tried to think, but could not get a clew. Mrs. Miller, however, who had sent for books and prepared herself for this intellectual treat, sat np straight and fixed a keen glance on the speaker. Her expression becamo one of perplex ity, and she closed her eyes for a mo ment as if the better to search her mem ory. Tho lecture was a short one, and when it was over Betty, anxious to show her lion off still further, begged for some of the travelers’ tales with which she had been entertained over night. Thus entreated, the guest began a story of thrilling adventure, but when only half way through Mrs. Miller’s at titude of indignant remonstrance over came her. To the horror of the compa ny, the gifted lady appeared suddenly to be attacked by a fit of insanity, for after stopping, hesitating, swaying to and fro for a moment, she burst into a loud fit of laughter. For an instant she struggled after self control, then broke oat again, and leaning back iu her chair gave herself up to the paroxysm. Betty rushed to her with a glass of wa ter. but Mrs. Bascom sat, a picture of disgust, and Mrs. Miller, waving Betty away, went up to the sufferer and took her firmly by tho hand. “Stop a minute,” she said. “I know yon, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself.” “Oh, Mrs. Miller! Oh, Mrs. Miller! It has been such fun.” But she stopped laughing and rose t<J her feet. “I meant to go on a little longer,” she said, “but Mrs. Miller was poo much for me, and I may as well let you all into it now as any time.” She pulled off the glasses and the beautiful white wig and i^ood revealed —Dell Roberts, Betty’s lifelong antago nist. And that is the reason why there was • long hiatns in the history of the W’o- man’s club of Liberty Center. When itr meetings were resumed, Mrs. Miller was president, vice Miss Elizabeth Bas- oom, resigned.—Anno Pierson iu Chi cago Record. THE HALF CENT MAN. HOW NEW YORK'S POSTOFFICE GAVE HIM HIS FIRST START. II« Received 85,000 That He Ilidn’t Ex pect - It Watt Hi* Share of an Extra Profit the Firm .lluile by Foilowiiiif One of Illn SiiRee*UonH. Tin* biggest, liest and most expensive ly furnished house in the town of Win- terport. Me., is owned and occupied by David Hcagon Smith, a big, blue eyed Yankee, who started out as a poor boy and earned his money and his reputa tion among tho granite quarries of Pe nobscot bay. Though Mr. Smith was always generous, giving liberally to church and charity, he has been known among his friends as tho “half cent man” for nearly 550 years. Beginning as a drag tender, young Smith worked his way up, aud in 1870 was appointed general manager of tho quarries on Dix island, nine miles south west from Rockland. At that time the Dix Island Granite company, for which Mr. Smith worked, had just taken the contract to quarry and cut tho stone for tho New York postoffice. Stonecutters and blacksmiths received $3.50 a day for eight hours’work, the United States paid the bills, and every body connected with the work was pros perous. The first set of pay rolls that was made out came back from Wash ington for revision. At $3.50 a, day a full day’s wages came out in even change, and so did a half day. The trouble was in the fourths. A quarter of a day’s pay was 87’ 2 cents, and three-quarters of a day was $2.62 , ; j, and while the government is honest it cannot and will not countenance the splitting of cents iu the wages of any body. When the matter was explained, there was a solemn meeting held iu tho com pany’s office, which was attended hy C. P. Dixon of New York, the company’s treasurer; Alfred B. Mullctt, United States supervising architect; two fir three congrcssim n, including James G. Blaine, and a small army of local bosses. Mr. Mullett proposed to divide the frac tions equally on the quarters, giving the quarter of a day man 88 cents aud the three-quarters of a day man $2.02. Mr. Dixon was about to accede to tho idea when Mr. Hmith broke in, ridicul ing the idea of a great nation like the United States haggling and wriggling over a little matter of half a cent a day. His argument prevailed, and, Mr. Mul lett yielding, the pay rolls allowed quar ter of a day men 88 cents and half a day men $2. fill. The workingmen gained both half cents and nobody was injured. The New York postoffice, costing more than $7,000,000, was completed iu 1874, and the new Philadelphia post- office iuid courthouse was started the same year and finished in 1877, so near ly 5,000 skilled mechanics had continu ous employment for seven years. Under the terms of the contract the company received 50 cents a cubic foot for the granite employed in the two structures and had a commission of 15 per cent upon the gross cost of the buildings. When Imth jobs were done, Mr. Dixon called Mr. Smith into his office aud pre sented him with a check for $5,000. “What is this for?” asked Mr. Smith, who had always drawn his pay at the end of every month. Instead of making an immediate reply Mr. Dixon put an other question: “How much is 15 per cent of one- half a cent, David?” “Three-fortieths of a cent,” replied Mr. Smith. ‘‘And how many three-fortieths of a cent are there iu $5,000?” This puzzled Mr. Smith for a time, and Mr. Dixon laughed. “Are there 7,000,000?” “No, sir.” “Are there 6,500,000?” continued Mr. Dixon. “Yes, sir, and a fraction over. ” “Will, David,” resumed Mr. Dixon. “I have made a few figures for myself and have learned that your talk to Mul lett, which gave me both half cents, has earned me about $10,000, and I think I ought to divide. That’s your half on the check. ” The following spring Mr. Smith went to Winterport and Imught the old Treat homestead. Tho place originally cost about $510,000, but had fallen into de cay, so Mr. Smith was able to buy it for $5,000. Since then he has fixed it up and beautified it so it is one of the finest estates on the Penobscot river. When visitors call and praise the home stead, Mr. Smith says: “Yes, I like it. It was bought from a commission of one-hulf of 15 per cent on half cents, but I guess it is good enough for me. ”—Boston Globe. Rig; IJi'ti I “Big Ben,” so calL'l nft*»r Sir I>u ) j:\rain Hall, who was tLe first commis- | sioner of works when the order for th€ clock was given, was cast iu 1856 at Norton, near Stocktou-on-Txes. From the north of England this enor- nmus bdl, weighing hi tons, was con- i vc-yod to London by sixi, where it had, on a small scale, almost as adventurous n passage as the Egyptian obelisk which now graces the Thames embankment. : Once or twice during the voyage, indeed, | it was feared that it would send the j vessel bearing it to tho bottom of the ! ocean. Not very long after the clock had been placed in a temporary position at Westminster—on Oct. 2 5, 1S57—and while it was being rung, as was cus tomary for a short time at 1 o’clock on Saturdays, it was noticed that it had a cracked, uncertain sound. On a minute examination with a lighted candle a crack was discovered tc extend from the rim about half way up ; the side. The catastrophe to an instru- . meut which cost £3,348 raised thoques- ! tion as to who was to pay for recasting ! it. Tut* founders repudiated responsibil- | ity, declaring that too heavy a clappet i —it weighed 12 cwt.—had been used. The authorities, however, placed ot record that it was “porous, unhomoge- neons, unsound and a defective cast- ing.” Be that as it may, Big Ben was bro ken np and recast at a ccstof £750. ID weight was 155 tons 10 cwt. 3qr. 15 lb., its diameter 9 feet and its height out side 7 feet 6 inches. It was rung fer the first time on Nov. 18, 1858. Alas, iu less than a year after this the new bell ceased to strike tho hours, having become more seriously cracked than its predecessor. The crack, which was inside, was 3 inches iu extent. For aliout three years afterward the hour.- were struck on the largest of the quar ter bells. The experiment was then tried of turning the great b» 11 round, so as to present a fresh place for the hammer or clapper to strike on. With a light ham mer this experiment proved so far satis factory that (hiring tho years that have elapsed the fissure does not seem to have increased, aud it is possible when the wind is favorable to distinctly hear it iu most of the suburbs booming out the midnight hour.—Loudon Mail. NoTelty In Cloth Frlnting. Cloth printing, so managed that tho two sides are of entirely different pat tern, is among the recent achievements of the dyer’s art. The two faced effect is produced by first dyeing the entire fabric through and through of a single color. The goods are then finished in the usual fashion. They are afterward passed over rollers, which are engraved with fine lines running diagonally in both directions. A careful adjustment of the pressure of the roller carrying the dye is made, thus preventing the color from striking through. The secret of success iu this lies in the careful adjustment and in the accurate regulation of the quantity of color applied. There must be just enough to go half way through the cloth, but no more. The results aro very satisfactory and will be particular ly pleasing on heavy fabrics, as by this means they will give tho effect of lin ings ot different colors from tho outside. —New York Ledger. RARE EDITIONS OF BURNS. The Treasure* Gathered by » Hootch Fl®- ri.t In \Ya*!,iiiK;ton. Not Ling ago, when new material for the Henley edition of Earns was being eorght at home and abroad, a certain modest Scotchman, living in tho United States, had an original manuscript litho graphed and sent to tb» - iblishcrs. In making acknowledgment of hisoour. on p.i,..: -506 of the third volume, recent ly p Mi .hed, they write him down as Mr. W. R. Smith of Cincinnati. Thera can be nn reasonable doubt that a Mr. W. R. S:ni*h does reside iu Cincinnati. Peril:: .Mi ■m. Jut the Air. Everybody Bays So. Cascareta Candy Cathartic, the moat won derful medical discovery of the aft**, pleas ant and refreshim* to the tn«*c, ec: eeutly and (lOMitlvely on kidneys, liver mid bowels, cleansing the entire sysn in, dispel colds, cun* headache, fever, tiabltual constipation and biliousness. Please buy and try a box of C. C. C to-day; i0, 25, Mi cents. Hold ami guaranteed to cure by all druggists. Lost Mines and bprings. There is a tradition in New Mexico that many mines once freely worked have been lost. There is another tradi tion that many springs have also been lost, and it is understood that the losses of both mines and springs were brought about by the Indians. New Mexico is supposed once to have been much more attractive than it is now. The Pueblo Indians arose in revolt on tho first full moon iu August, 1680. When they had driven the Spaniards down into old Mexico, they set to work to change the conditions so that there should be little temptation to reconquer New Mexico. This idea inspired the filling of mines which had been opened and worked dur ing the former Spanish occupation. The Indians, with great care, destroyed all traces of many mines, it is said. This is not so surprising as what they did to tho springs. It is tradition, and the statement is commonly accepted as his toric truth, that in their labors to ren der the country as uninviting as possi ble these Indians suppressed numerous springs. Such results were accomplished iu an ingenious manner. The Indians dug down aud cleared away the dirt until they found the crevices of tho rock through which tho water came. They took the fibrous hark of a specie* of fir tree and tamped it into the crev ices. As tho material becamo watel soaked it swelled until it plugged. Nothing remained but to throw back the dirt and to give to tho surface the general arid appearance of the surround ing com try. This was not a temporary expedient. It resulted, according to the present theory, iu tho permanent de struction of many sources of water. To this day tho appearance of slight moisture often stimulates a search foi oue of tho missing springs. Occasion ally these searches are successful. The earth is removed, the crevices are found, the bark is picked out and the water, after more than t” o centuries of being turned back, resumes its natural flow. —Topeka Capital. W. K. fc.niih who possesses an original Bums manuscript resides and for 43 years has n sided in Washington city as superintendent of tho botanical gardens. At present, furthermore, he is president of th^-jiociety of American Florirts, aud for of** a generation he ha-; In m wide ly kuswu in tiiis country as the friend of many distinguished men. Ho has ul- ways been at home to them in his little red brick cottage, which nestles well hidden just under the white majesty of the cupitol and at jieace iu the green plant world of its own. The treasure of this homo, as it is tho pride of his heart, has long been his Burns collection, which lillg a small room apart from his general library. How interesting this collection is may be inf: rml from his own statement that it contains 200 separate dated editions of Burns out of the (500 editions which he says have been published throughout the world. To this treasure house of hi* beloved poet he expects to add other vol umes, to be obtained from the Mitchell library of Glasgow, which leads all others iu Burnsiana. The odVction with which he still plans for the further en richment of his hoard is a passion that began in youth. The first shillings h«' ever earned, ho says, were captured at a village school examination. In the dreadful presence of the dominie and the minister the class had been called up to recite, member by member, stanza iu turn, Gray’s “Elegy”* They soon stuck. “You go on with dux,” com manded the dominie. Go on with it he did, and two shillings were laid in hi* palm for tiiis feat of memory, where upon he took to his heels and spent his prize for his first volume of Bobbie. Among his rare editions he reckon* one published at Alexandria, Yu., ia 1813, during the war with England. Only two copies of this, he says, am known to be in e.vistence. Another is the first American edition, another is the second American edition, to which belonged the Washington copy now own ed by Representative Cabell of Illinois aud held to be priceless. As to the final disposition of his Burns library, he thought at one time of sending it to a Masonic institution in Kentucky, owing to his friendship for tho lute Senator Beck of that state, another ragged Scotchman whose portrait hangs on the library wall. He lias since thought of leaving it to Princeton college out at regard tor the late President McCosb. But his preference is to have it housed at last iu Washington, in a room that he would like Mr. Andrew Carnegie t(» build for it there instead of the ono the millionaire is understood to have offer ed to build in Pittsburg. It would be a pity ever to have the collection removed from Washington, where it is so often visited. When Craibe Angus wanted the loan of it for the Bums celebration at Glasgow, Mr. Smith declined to send it, being loath to disappoint his Amer ican visitors. In this connection ha quoted with some feeling a remark ouco made by a niece of Burns, “A Scotch man always begins by finding fault with my unde, but the Americans— they never find fault with him.” A Scotchman must come to this country, insisted Mr. Smith, to find out what it means to love the poets of Scotland.— “Chronicle and Comment” in Bookman. Wise Mirth. There is a saying of Chamfort which many serious minded people, under the pressure of care and work, would do well to lay to heart, “The most thor oughly wasted of all days is that on which one lias not laughed. ” it lias of ten been said that only they who take life with profound seriousness can be really humorous, for they alone perceive those fundamental contrasts which make humor possible. Mr. Ford has laid tho country undei lasting obligation by correcting tho im pression that Washington never laugh ed. Deeply se:rious as he was by nature, and retired and noucommunicative a.- he was in largo companies, no man could appreciate and enjoy fun of any good kind more thoroughly than the great leader when with his intimates. It is true Emerson hated to laugh, but his radiant smile was better than ktugh- ter. Carlyle, on the contrary, mbs given to earth shaking laughter—a kind of Berserker laughter, not without under tones of pathos running through it Lin coln’s love of stories, both iu the hear ing and the telling, was a safety valve for oue whose tremendous burdens fell on a temperament deeply tinged with sadness. —O u t look. Mure Like the Foot. Canvasser—You are tho head of the house, 1 presume? Dixmyth—Your presumption is quite natural, but you’ve got another guess coming. Canvasser—Beg pnrdon, but I don’t quite catch your drill? Dixmyth—Well, 1 have to foot the bills, and as my wife says I’m always kicking you can draw your own conclu sions. —Chicago News. Wild Pigeons In Nebraska. A recent report from Nebraska stated that a flock of from 75 to 100 wild, or passenger, pigeons had been seen in that state. This will he interesting news to those who remember the birds when they flew iu countless thousands liku dark rivers across the sky during the spring migrations. Some grizzled old trappers, who regularly followed the flight of pigeons and netted them bjr thousands per week, have for years gone on hoping against hope that the flights of pigeons had merely been diverted from the old routes and that the birds would some day reappear iu all their former numbers. This idea, of course, is erroneoun. The pigeons are not haunt ing inaccessible sections of the country. They have been destroyed. During tho early autumn of 1887 I shot a lone pi geon, a male of that year, near the city of Eau Claire, Wis., and a few days later I saw a flock of perhaps 25 birds flying low near where I had shot tho single one. In March, 1894, while trav eling by train near London, Out., i taw four pigeons flying east. The day was very mild, with a warm rain falling, and the pigeons passed in plain view from the car window. It was just tho sort of day we used to deem the best for pigeons iu the long ago when one gun could bag more birds than a man could carry.—Ed. W. bandys in Out ing. Why H* Was Welcome. “Here, Harry, is a dime for you,’* said Mr. Harper to the little brother of the oue he loves. * ‘ Have you ever heard Miss Bessie say anything about me when I wasn’t here?” “Oh, lots of times, ” replied the sweet child. “And what does she say, Harry?” “bhe says she’s always glad to have you come here when she’s feelin all wore and tired. ” “And,” continued the del ghted young man, “does she ever explain why she likes to have me come at such times?” “Yes. She says you’re so easy she oau go to sleep aud still keep you jnnisa in.”—Cleveland Leader.