TRI WEEKLY EDITO WI.BRE .. A 6 90 ETABLISHED 18~4 4
MY LITTLE BOY-BEAU.
It is hidden away with the keepsakes
-- of summers and winters ago
A love-letter yellow and faded
&nd creased, from my little boy-beau.
'The envelope reads, "To my dearest,"
The pages are tattered and torn,
S Tbe childish handwriting is blotted,
But it breathes of life's roseate morn.
The little boy-beau he Is sleeping
Where his regiment laid him to rest,
In a uniform buttoned and braided,
With a flag and a sword on his breast.
:But it is not the dashing young soldier
In sabre and sash that I see,
3at the little boy-beau with his ringlets-1
He will never grow older to me.
8lnce, a girl of eleven, I found it
Slipped into my grammar one day
The years with their raIns and their roses
Have rapidty glided away.
Lovers and hearts they'ainve brought me,
Tears and my portion of woe;
But never so pure an affection
As the lovo of my little boy-beau.
-alinna Irving, in .Tudge.
A AUNT PREBES STORY.c
~0
AM willing to con
fess that I would
have married Gus
% Waters at a word.
He was the sort of
young man a girl
instinctively likes
and trusts. Perhaps
this is not the kind
of feeling the story
books call love, but
- Ifancy it is just as
. good.
Gus was good
looking, with strongly marked fea
tures, rather tall, and well built, and
when he chose to be'well dressed made
a good appearance, and never looked
ill, however old his clothes might be,
when about his ordinary work. He
did not depend upon his clothes to
command respect.
He had a calm, confident air, and
could express himself concisely when
he needed to assert authority. That
is what a woman likes-to have a man
able to deal with men and not be
I urned aside from his purpose or make
a mistake. He was a good talker with
a fine, coy humor, not putting himself
rw.rd to be amusing, but easily
00 t diaing his own. Like most strong
men, Gus was hard to provoke to a
quarrel, though in his school days he
had his allowance of fisticuff encoun
ters.
Yes, I will admit I would have mar
,- ried Gas had he asked me, though I
did not think he was in love with me
xor I with him, I did not believe he
ould fall desply in love with anyone.
* Perhaps I wastoo reserved, or feared
tahow a decided preference unless it
n &rat, theagh other girlJ
agne wTe e devoted
1toHattie Tinde. I had other
j mirers, and if I was not as hand
some as Hattie, mere beauty is not
eyerything. There is no denying that
Hattie was the prettiest girl of our set,
and she was pretty without having to
care for her complexion or wear be
coming clothes. We girls qll knew
she was intolerably selfish, and won
dered that the young men did not find
Aher out. But beauty ;hides a great
many defects of character and if a girl
only pretands to be kind and sympa
thetic she is supposed to possess all
the angelic qualities.
* One day Robert Carpenter asked
me to marry him. He proposed in a
blundering,, roundabout way, so
clumsily that I did not know at first
what he meant. He made me almost
* as confused as himself, and whether
----.- I said yes or no I do not now recollect,
but he went away smiling, so I con
clude he thought himself an accepted
lover, and I had a ring which I put
away in a box, undecided whether to
wear- it or give it back.
I don't think I expected that Gus
would hear of this and come forward
as Robert's rival. He did not, at any
rate. When I met him he simply
said:
* "Well, little girl, so you are en
gaged to Carpenter. Ho is a good fel
low, but you are young. You should
have waited a little longer."
"An engagement does not mean
marriage," I replied, somewhat
sharply.
* - "No, but I think it ought. It keeps
-many young men straight to be en
gaged, but they ought to feel confident
:that the girl's heart is fixed upon
* them."
"Perhaps the girl's heart has little
to do with the matter nowadays. She
has to consider other things."
"Yes, I suppose so. But the heart
is not to be ignored."
This was about all that was said
:nothinig to suggest that Gus was jeal
ous or likely to enter the list for my
hand. Nor did I expect it, though
gossips reported the contrary.
Robert was impatient to be mar
?ed, but I was not. He accused me
of being cold and of not reciprocating
a i passion. Possibly all men in love
are apt ,to act childishly. I found
Robert's attentions wearisome. It
Smight be said that he would be cured
of them by marriage, but this is a
painful experience to look forward to.
One evening we had a quarrel. He
accused me of secre. admiration for
Mr. Hayes-that I held him off hoping
Gus would come formard as a suitor,
and added, as a final rebuke, that he
and Hattie Trude had been married
the dg before. He showed me a pa
per with the marriage notice printed
in it.
T was so angry at the accusation
that at first I told him the engagement
between us was brokenl. Then he began
to plead for himself, expressing such
sorrow at his hasty words that gradu
Sally I relented. After all, had I
treated him rightly? At last I agreed
to marry him at once. It was becomn
- ing the fashion .to plan a half elope
ment and save the expenseand pub
licity of a regular wedding at home.
I consented to marry him the next
After Robert departed I looked for
he newspaper containing the notice,
mt could not find it. He had had
everal in his hand, but .the special
,opy he had taken with him. I donot
inow what prompted me to write a
ioe of congratulation to Gus and dis
?atch it by my brother Ned, a lad of
:welve. I mentioned having seen the
aotice in the paper, and said I was
sorry he had not contided in me.
It was after 10 o'clock, and I retired
to my room. Half an hour later I
beard Ned coming up stairs. He
stopped at my door.
"Did you see Gus?" I asked from
within.
"Yes. He's down stairs. He camo
back with me."
"What does he wants"
"He wants to see you, I guess."
"What for."
'He dida't say. Probably wants to
boow your overshoes. Better go
down and ask him."
I went down. He didn't want to
borrow anything. On the contrary he
wanted me to give him some thing to
keep-my hand, my heart. He said
th% notice of his being married was a
confounded fraud-that Robert must
have had it inserted in a few copies of
the paper by special agreement-it
could be (lone if one was willing to pay
for it. He was in quite an excited
frame of mind, and I hardly knew my
usual placid Gus.
"Of course, when you were engaged
to Robert, it was not for me to make
any attempt to win you. I thought
you knew your own mind, and had
decided that I was not the sort of fel
low you cared to marry. But this
trick gives rie a right to speak. Am
I too late?"
.Naturally I told him he was. That
if he had cared for me in that way he
ought to have come forward long be.
fore. Now that my word was plighted
to Robert, and I could not think of
breaking it, though he had acted in a
most despicable manner, in a manner
to make me ashamed to think he wa1
my plighted lover-and so on.
To which Gus replied:
"All right, little girl. If you think
so, I had better go and give him the
worst licking he ever had in his life,
even though they do send me to jail
for it. But you won't care."
"I shall care."
"Then we'd better get married at
once, early to-morrow morning. How
early can you be ready?"
I ought to have resisted longer, but
I didn't. I consented to be ready at
any hour that he should name-and I
was-and we were married.
And that is all there is to the story.
Paper Handkerblies Now.
A curious and in some ree. a.
nti may be
q Ti i~ ideas isa
16o red by the recent introduction in
to the English market of the paper
handkerchief of Japan. The Irish
Textile Journal, which devotes a lead
ing article to this weighty subject, in
stances the fact that,so long ago as 1.^32,
some Chinese visitors; to the west, af
ter they had discarded their handker
chiefs, experienced the satisfaction of
seeing the occidental "barbarians"
rsh forward to pick them up and
carry them away as curios; but we
have got a long way beyond that kind
of thing now.
The enterjprising Japanese, among
whom, it is perhaps unneccssary to
observe, the use of paper hindker
chiefs has obtained for centuries, are
now laving these articles down in the
English markets at sixty cents per box
of 100, or say, seven cents p~er dozen,
and when we learn that the laundry
price for washing handkerchiefs is one
cnt each, or twelve cents a dozen, it
becomes pretty certain that the Japan
ese manufacturer will in this particu
lr become a strong rival, not only to
the British laundry woman, but to the
British manufacturer also. The Jap
anese handkerchiefs are described as
being of a very flue quality of paper
How the Italian Saves.
The Italian working man, at a wage
of $1.25 to $1.50 a day can always
manage to put some portion of it by,
even if he has a large family. A cor
nr of his chest is his first "savings
bank." If there is no chest, he cars
rics it about with him in a greasy
pocketbook, or with fear and treme
bling hands it over to some good
friend who keeps a shop, to hold it
until it amounts to $5 or so. He
guards it jealously, r. ike many of
the easier-going Irish p ^ nts. No
old china ieapot on an uppbe elf, no
old stocking is a fit receptacle. After
a bank account is started small sums
followv it, and when there are several
hundred dollars th a man looks around
for a chance to invest.
He buys real estate most frequently,
unless he plans to use his first money
in setting up a small shop of his own.
Real estate is the poor Italian's dream.
Only New York real estate is not
usually what he is looking for. His
purchases are most frequently made,
Italian authorities say, in one of the
towns on the outskirts of New York,
Paterson being, for example, a popu
lar place. He begins with a large
mortgage, and sets himself the task
of reducing this, and seldom does he
fail to make a payment.-New Yo rk
Tribune.
Side Views on ILife.
Practice sometimes makes a perfect
nuisance.
It isn't so much what a man has
that makes him happy as what he
doesn't want.
It is always better to be right than
to be consistent.
The average man has a poor foun
dation when he stands on his dignity.
There are three things the wise man
keeps on good terms with-his wife,
his stomach and his conscience.
Some people who don't claim to
know very much make better use of
their knowledge than others who
think they know it all. -Chicago
TALIS OF PLUCK
AND ADVENTURE
Besieged by Lions.
ION-HUNTING is dangerous
enough when the hunter's
health and strength are of
the best. Bat an inveterate
sportsman does not regard conse
quences, and the author of "Sport in
East Central Africa" gives an account
of a foolhardy adventure which he
seems to have enjoyed. He was ill
with fever in a little settlement of
blacks but since lions were in the
neighbiood he must needq insist
upon having the carcass of a boar
placed as biit not far from his hut;
and although his legs were too weak
to allow him to walk a dozen steps,
he had himself propped against the
door-jamp, and laid his double-bar
relled rifle across his knees.
It was nearly 1 o'clock, he says,
when the lions gave notice of their
whereabouts. I heard the heavy
grunting sighs of three or four of
them as they moved about in the
scrub twohundred yards away. Then
followed a series of rashes, as they
leaped down the bank of the creek
and lapped noisily at the water.
Next came a terrified voice from a
neighboring hut.
"White man, we are going," he
said, and the "boys" rushed pell-mell
from their shelter, some passing in
front of me, others behind me, mak
ing for a grove of trees.
Scarcely had the first of them got
well outside the huts, before it seemed
as if a lion were right among them, as,
with deep, savage grunts, it dashed
past my but, bounding through the
scrub in close pursuit.
Suddenly a yell rang out from the
darkness, and I was convinced that
one of my blacks was being devoured;
but 1 was too weak to stand, and was
powerless to act.
After some further noise and con
fusion, I heard a lion treading over
the dead leaves near by. Then came
a prolonged muffled sound, half roar,
half moan, uttered in a deep voice,
which under the circumstances, I
recognized as profoundly musical.
Then there was a heavy but silent
footfall as the beast walked to the
back of my hut, and thrusting his
nose among the thatched grass.,
sniffed loudly, till I could see the
lghter stalks stirring with his breath
and hear the rustling, when he en
inerdtoos ot the wAttM
' Each inistant I expected thE ha
structure to collapse, but luckily th
beast forebore to take a mean advan
tage, which would have secured m;
destruction. I should have fired, hai
I not been afraid of setting fire to th
but.
At length the brutes cleared out
uttering deep growls. They had de
stroyed one hut and pretty muel
ruined two more, not to speak o
smashing the hut next to mine, whic1
contained.all my stores. I could hea
them there, making a terrific noise
snuffing, grunting and snarling, break
ing sticks and clanking metal, whi!
every now and then one wvould lea
down the bank into the water an
then come tearing back, breathin,
heavily and growling low. Yet not
whisker hair did one of them show 11
the firelight in front of me.
The excitement did me good. Th
next morning I was up and about i
pajamas and an ulster. Not one c
the boys had been injured, althougl
one had had a marvellous escape. Th
ions were close upon him as h
reached a tree. He sprang at
branch, and in his terror seized th
leg of another black who had cla'm
bered up before him. Fearing 1cs
he, too, should fall into the lion'
maw, the other fellow kicked his le;
clear, so that the unfortnnate fugitiv
fell to the ground, uttering the yell
had heard.
Why the nearest lion did not seiz
him, I cannot say. The boy explaine<
that it merely growled as he scram
bled to his feet and climbed up an
other tree as fast as his black leg
cold shin. ____
Brave Children.
Probably one of the youngest hiere
on record is Leonard Webber, age<
five years,who has just received a cer
tificate of honor from the Royal Hu
mane Society for saving his three
year-old brother fron. drowning. Th
Philadelphia Times tells the story.
The children were playing with othe
boys upon the edge of a pond, whe:
the younger Webber fell into th
water. The others, frightened, tool
to their heels, but Leonard, withou
the slightest hesitation, plunged il
and rescued his brother.
Quite as remarkable was a cas
which comes irom a remote corner c
Russia, where a boy of nine years act
ually had the temerity to tackle
great, gaunt wolf that had assailed;
tiny playmate as he lay asleep.
The rescuer seized an axe that ha'
been left by a woodman, and gave bat
tle to the wolf, which, finding itsel
thus attacked, promptly scuttled oi
to the wood.
Russia has been the scene of muel
youthful heroism. Some years ago
while a peasant woman was sittin
with her little daughter, aged abou
eight years, at supper, the curtain
which divided the living-roomi i:
which they sat from the adjoining bedi
room caught fire through the explo
sion of an oil lamp.
The mother sat still, not knowin;
what to do, but her daughter, child a
she was, pcssessed more presence o
mind. Seizing a knife, she climbe<
upon a chair, cut down the blazing
curtains, and then smothered tha
flames with the hearth-rug. In tw<
minutes the fire, which might havy
aevewpeu inzo a veriable confla-a
tion, was extinguished.
Woman Who Defied a British &ruay.
An event that is, on the same scale,
unparalleled in history was that pro
vided by a woman of noble race, tUe
Ranee of Jhansie, who stood at the,
head of her own troops and twice de
fled the British army; she. on the sec
ond occasion being so desparately
wounded as to be carried off the field
supposedly dead.
When the terrible conflagration of
the Indian mutiny was thought to be
almost extinguished this woman-who
was singularly handsome and, in the
European sense, still quite yenng
fanned the dying flame among her
own subjects in Central India, giving
every active direction for the defense
of her city of Jhansie, but hb? fiery
and intrepid spirit brought Ot very
fiercest and most bloodthirsty of the
mutineers throughout whole prov
inces to her aid. Sir Hugh Ros.e,with
a British force, made a most memor
able speedy march in order to inter
cept the hordes rushing to her ban
ner, and when he came before her city
she sent out messages of insolent de
fiance, declaring that she would have
him murdered, as she had ordered
other Britons to be massacred.
With her own hands she helped a'
the guns, while furiously urging on
her men, and when the place wai
magnificently stormed and taken at
the bayonet's point, she escaped,
wounded badly. But she soon rallied
another army, and when she was
again defeated at Suhejnee she fought
in the first line like a veritable fury,
and was mortally wounded.
Faced an Army Single Handed.
Our modern military annals
crammed with the names of heroic
private soldiers-have one, and only
one, record of a private who, to save
his native comrades, says Tit-Bits,
literally faced the fire of a whole
army, and obtained a well deserved
commission for the unprecedented
feat.
During the Indian mutiny it-was
sonaetimes in battle almost impossible
to tell our loyal native allies from the
revolted enemy. At the relief of
Lucknow, Private Howell, of the
Thirty-second Foot, was near a loyal
native regiment that had, through too
great impetuosity and mias-enoeption
of orders, got to a position where it
was mistaken for the enemy, .and ttie
whole advance of the British army,
amid the smoke, poured into it an
awful fire, killing great numbers of
men. At thiS moment, Ho ell, who
saw that the men exposed ere para
lyzed -with astonishm d fear,
rnshed'forwa som in
shako at the point of his
his right.
Hundreds of bullets from his
comrades whizzed past him, two M
them cutting one sleeve of his tunic
but the daring deed served his na
pose, for the British officer sawha
was intended. No soonei had th
"cease fire" sopurd? than the men
to be the moment after again in th
1throes of battle, sent up a magniffeen
rcheer for Howell.
Single-Handed Fight Against Five Ben
Papers 'ust received from Sout
,Africa relate an exciting single-hanide
jcombat between Gunner Harvey, 1I
M1. A., of Norbury, Staffordshire
nephew to the Mayor of Newcastle
and five Boers. After the battle c
Graspan, Harvey left the British esm
Sin company with a comrade to reliev
Sa soldier who had been wounded
SFive of the enemy suddenly appede
Sand halted about eighty yards froi
SHarvey and his companion, levele
their rifles and fired. Harvey's com
Spanion fell dead. Upon this Harve
Sdeliberately knelt down and fired
-killing one of their number. Th
tBoers then commenced running tc
~ward him, and as they did so Harve
fired again, and stretched another ou
dead. He then drew his revolver an<
fired, wounding one of the Boers ii
the side. The remaining two closed
upon him, clubbing their rifles.
iHarvey then drew his sword an,
waited for the attack. One of th
-Boers dlealt a crashing blow at hi
breast. Harvey sprang asidte, avoidin;
the blow, and quickly recovering hizx
self sprang at his opponent, dealin
him a blow with his sword, which a
Smost severed the man's head from hi
body. Simultaneously the remainin
-Boer raised his rifle and sent Harve
staggering to the earth. He was upo
his feet in an instant, his swor;
whirling in the air, and before hi
foe could recover Harvey struck hir
dead.
Workcman Stuck to is Post.
Albert Murphy, a young man, en
ployed as iron molder by the Gould
at Seneca Falls, N. Y., came near be
ing burned to death on a recent aftei
noon. Murphy, having a quantity<
fbell metal in his ladle, poured it int
a kettle under a scaffold, above whic
the men washed up at quitting time
1A quantity of water had leaked fro,
above into the kettle which Murph
d (id not ree. As the metal went int<
the kettle there was an explosion, an
the liquid metal was thrown upon hin
~setting his shirt and hat on fire an
burning him terribly from the hips t
the crown d, his head.
Although suffering untold agonies
Murphy stuck to his post and handle<
the ladle despite his burns until th
entire casting, which was a valuabl
one, had been distributed in th,
molds. He then fell over unconsciou
and was carefully picked up by hi
fellow-workmen and carried to th
office, where medical aid was sum~
moned.
fHis eyes escaped injury, but hi
face, arms, and body will be disfig
ured for life. The burns at first wer
thought to be fatal, but his ;f~n
)is now regarded as eertain. 1
hero of the fondry. J
ERA OF THE DIME NOVEL
THE RISE AND FALL OF BLOOD AND
THUNDER LITERATURE,
Little as It Is Generally Realized, the
Dime Novel Has Had a Considerable
Influence on American Letters-Dates
Back to the Year 1860.
TH E close of the century is
witnessing the extinction of
what has been popularly
known as the "dime novel"
(writes Firmin Dredd, in the March
'Bookman). Very curiously, readers
are coming back to the position they
occupied about forty years ago, and
the books which are commanding wide
sales to-day are what are known as
'high-priced novels. And yet the dime
novel has played so prominent a part
"in the general literature of this coun
try that the story of its genesis, its
development, its evolution and its
final degeneration, is rich with inter
est. Little as it is generally realized,
,the dime novel has been a consider
able factor in American literature.
The dime novel dates from the y
1860. Shortly before, the firm of
Beadle & Adams had began a series of
1publications intended for lower mid
'dle-class consumption. This serief
,was made up of books on eti
quette, on letter-writing and oth
subjects of equal moment and impor
tance. The dime book of etiquette,
for instance, purported to be a guide
tto "true gentility and good breeding,
.and a complete directory to the usages
and'observauces of society, including
etiquette of the ball-room, of the
ievening-party, the dinner-party, the
card and chess-table, of business, and
tof the home circle." It did not differ
materially from the books of similar
;nature that are published to-day.
'These books had an enormous circula
tion, and despite the ridicule which
one humorously inclined may see fit
to heap upon them, undoubtedly had
a serious and real educational value.
Early in the spring of 1860 Mr. Or
ville J. Victor conceived the idea of
the dime novel. At his suggestion
the Beadle series was begun, and
Mrs. Ann S. Stephens, then one of
1the most popular and widely known
of American writers, was asked to
contribute the inaugurative story.
For "Malaeska, the Indian Wife of
the White Hunter," she received two
hundred and fifty dollars, a consider
table sum for a work of its length at
that time. "Malaeska" was followed
iby "The Privateer's Cruise," by
,Harry Cavendish; "Myra, the Child
of Adoption,": another of Mrs.
Stephens's romances; and "Alica
Wilde, the %aftsman's D ghter,"
Mrs. & Mi'r.
novel there speedily
ag stanof writers who com
ined a knowledge of the popular
taste, dexterity in the working out of
conventional plots, and an industry
ithat was simply amazing, --Wtha
[rev-W iMA s-m'" udred dol
t1ars was the price paid for one of
these novels, which contained on an
pverage twenty-five thousand words,
jand which was produced by its
author in a week or ten days. In ad
'dition to the professional novel-spin
a~ers of the time the dime library drew
Jon a number of newspaper men, who
h found in this a way materially to in
iIcrease their incomes. In the autumn
of 1860 the first story ever written by
~Edward S. Ellis, afterward so popular
~ s a writer for boys, found its way
'into tue ofice of the dime library.
It was called "Seth Jones, or, The
~Captive of the Frontier," and before
it appeared as the eighth number in
the series it had been advertised with
aaskill and ingenuity very rare at a
time when the art of advertising was
-still, in a measure, in its infancy.
Several weeks before the day of pub
~'lication, guttersnipes bearing the
~ simple legend "Seth Jones" were
-placarded on walls and fences all over
the city. A week later these were
followed by other gutteranipes, on
which was printed the query, "Who
is Seth Jones?" A third guttersnipe
Sanswered the question, and proved re
~markably effective in bringing about
for the book an enormous sale.
eDespite the literary inadequacy of
these pioneers among the cheap popu
lar novels, they were entirely whole
p {ome and far removed from the vicious
'ess and the brutality which mark their
~successors in the later 'seventies and
~ early 'eighties. These romances were
~often extravagant in plot and crude in
treatment, but they were primaiily de
sindfor household reading. Proba
~ bly none of the writers of these books
,was more successful in commanding a
wide circle of readers than Mrs. M. V.
Victor. The fourth of the stories
which she contributed to this series
attained a sale which makes most of
the records of book sales of the pres
gent day appear insignificant in comn
p arison. This was "Uncle Ezekiel,"
the story of an alleged typical Yankee
gand his exploits at home and abroad.
SIn the United States the book within
h short time reached a total sale of
two hundred and seventy thousand.
aIn England the sales reached two hun
dred and eleven thousand, a total of
four hundred and eighty-one thousand.
SThis, however, was surpassed by "The
Backwoods Bride," of which five hun
dredi and fifty thousand were sold, and
S"Maum 'Guinea." The last named
was a story of negro life, which, ap
pearing at the time of the war, actually
Srivaled in popularity Mrs. Harriet
]3eecher Stowe's "Uncle Tom's
sCabin."
SThe success of this series in a few
. ;ears brought many rivals into the
s -ield. George Munro, who had been
a-bookkeeper in the employ of Beadle
- Adams, began publishing himself
books along the same line about 1865.
sA few years later the sta'd orange
- covers of the original dime novels were
'~eplaced by covers of gaudily colored
design. The typical dime novel of
, 187(' is very interesting as showing the
cruit of, nthe antor meinits of the time.
3nt the cheap novel of the early
eventies was only a step in the whole
cheme of evolation. With the great
ometition came a marked decline in
he quality of the material. Each year
ihowed advances in outright sensa
ionalism, until the culmination was
-eached in the typical shocker of re
-ent memory.
WISE WORDS.
The borrower runs into his own
lebt.-Emerson.
A slight debt produces a debtor; a
eavy one, an enemy.-Publius Syras.
'Tis strange- t true; for truth is
3lways strange-stranger than fiction.
-Byron.
Not o' what s bor with im, but
ilso what e acq ir s akodthe man.
-Goethe. &
Do tha c is ssigned to
thee and ca st t pe too much
or dare t o . so 4
Courage! Up y e When
ye do tire, he will b bo you and
your bur am a hrford.
-ature veu to men one tongue,
bu two eAlhat we nay-iar m
ot .rs twic &.T uch as we spea
ictetts.
e is dew in one flower ot
in nothl bpcause o t p
an takes ita',iwhile r c oses
- f and the drop ran cher.
Debt mqjes every mpta
tion. It a man i pect,
places h' au the mercy trades
m3n an e ants. He ca not call
himself hi n master, and it is diffi
cult for him to be truthfal.-Smiles.
Let the millionnaire take his mil
lions to the slams and say: "There
is a wrong distribution of the wealth
of the world. You have not got your
share. I 've to each of you his share
of my mill s."-Andrew Carnegie.
Th erviceable, safe, certain,
re ive, attainable quality in
every and every pursuit, is the
anliw a tention. My own inven
0 0 agination, such as it is, I can
rosthtthfully assure you, would
n r have served me as it has, but for
the habit of common place, humble, pa
tient, toiling, dradging attention.-.
Charles Dickens.
Dangerous Pitfalls in Arizona.
Carious but dangerous freaks or
nature frequently found in the desert.
of Arizona are called Sumideroar by
the Mexicans and Indians. They are
masked pitfalls of quicksand that oc
cur in the dry plains and are covered
with a treacherous crust of clay that
has been- spread over them in ine
particles by the wind,and baked dry
by thesun. - --
The peltiar j rop eso
retain all the moisture drained into
them after the infrequent rains, and
allow it to be filtered to 1
depths, so that a orse or j
cow eep that once steps upoi
t at deceptive crust instantly sinki
out of sight beyond hope of rescue
The Sumideros are on a level witl
the surface of the desert. There is no
danger signal to mark them and thei1
surface cannot be distinguished by
the ordinary eye from the hard cla:
that surrounds them. They occui
most frequently in the alkali-covered
flats, and are often fifteen or twent'
feet in diameter. Sometimes thea
are only little pockets or wells that
man can leap across, but the longes
ole has never found their bottom. A
stone thrown through the crust sink:
to unknown depths and no man wh<
ever fell into one of them was res
cued. They account for the mysteri
ns disappearance of many men an'
cattle.-Chicago Record.
Earth Originally Was Intensely Coldi.
As the terrestrial mass was ver:
cold (233 degrees Centigrade) whez
separated from the sun, it follows tha
what heat we observe in the interioa
of the globe must have arisen from
the shrinkage of its original volume,
says Professor T. 3. J. See, in the At
lantic. Unfortunately we do not know
the dimensions of the nebular earth
but it will be reasonable to assnm
that it did not surpass the dimension
of the lunar orbit; and with thi:
rough approximation, it is difficult t<
see how the internal temperature oi
the earth can have exceeded some
thing like 1000 degrees Centigrade,
Moreover, it prob~ably does not in
crease after a certain depth has been
reached, but then remains essentially
uniform througrhout the interior ol
the globe. Contrary as it may seen
to old theories-like those of Laplace
and Poisson, who assigned to th<
primitive mass a temperature of mil
lions of degrees, there is no evidence
that the temperature of the earth evel
sarpassed the melting point of lava
ad of the more refractory rocks. The
retention of the terrestrial atmos
phere is direct evidence that the
primitive heal was ve:y moderate.
For if the heat had been very great,
the kinetic theory of gases shows3 that
the molecules of our atmosphere wouli
have been driven off into space.
Too Swift For the Juggler.
The man who did a juggling act at
the Park Theatre and concluded his
performance by tossing a number ol
apples into the audience for people to
throw at him while he made an at
tempt to catch them on a fork held be
tween his teeth got all that was com-'
ing to him the other afternoon. The
irst apple tossed out fell into the
waiting hands of a young mau well
known in this city for his athletic
prowess. It took less than a second
for him to send the apple flying
toward the juggler and th4~ force in a
well-developed right arm was behind
it. The juggler saw it coming but
wasn't quick enough to get out of the
way. The apple caught him plumpi
between the eyes and was shattered in
to a thousand pieces before the actor
kne- ...ha stqck 1im .-Wm-c-ter
THE MRRY SIDE OF LI
STORIES THAT ARE TOLD BY TIE
FUNNY MiN OF THE PRESS.
The Point of View-Never Neglects a See
clal Duty-A Plain Distinction-WeOI
What Is a Flame For?.-Germs of Oi
Age.Detained at Ulome, Etc., Ete.
When on the curb you w alting stand
And see the gripman wave his hand,
And pass you by,'you rage In VaiL
In anger at his rude d!sdain.
But when you're safely fixed [aside
And some outsider wants to ride,
You smile and hear his pleading call.
And somehow do not are at all.
-Washington Star.
Never Neglects a Social Dair.
"Don't you observe any social
duties whatever?"
"Certainly; I decline all my invitz
tions."-Chicago Record.
'CO
Well, What is a FIme Fr?
Willie Ligbteoat-"I hear that Mr.
Perry married an old flame."
Maud Smith-"Yes, and now' that
flame has to light the fire every morn
ing. "-Jadge.
Germs of Old Age.
"Doctor, I wonder if rm not get
ting old?"
"Q iite possibly. The bacillas of
old age is very prevalent just now." -
Detroit Journal.
Detained at Home.
Mrs. Maggins-"Are you going to
the Paris Exposition this summer?"
, Mrs. Buggins-"No; I can't ge*
away. The cook wants to go."
Philadelphia Record.
Easy Method.
Johnson-"Jackson, how woul-.lyou
get into society?"
Jackson-"Oh, if I felt like it, and
'hd the clothes, and was invite i, I'
go."-Indianapolis Journal.
Rushed.
"fou seem to be very busy, Miss
Dorothy?"
"I should think so. rm doing so
pany things for so many peoplo thaw
I can't do anything for anybody."
teries of Life.
Dibbs-"A - ought to- kWaa
when he's got e
Jibbs-"We m .!
got enough work,
whef 'g
"Gladys was silen, 'bat Earo!
could read her answer in' her- fede '
Extract from an up-to-date -novI,
chapter xii., page_144.-J'ndgc.*.:
Slow Methods.
He-"If there could be any slower
amusement than playing chess by mail;
I should like to know what could be."
Him-"They might use a messen.
ger boy instead of the mails."-Ia
dianapolis Press.
A Trade Ia Itself.
Citizen-"See here, Il give you i
dime, but I believe you asked mas for
money only yesterday. Why doa't
you learn some good business?"
Able-Bodied Beggar - "I have
learned one, sir; I'm a re-touchor."
Life. ____
Withdrawn.
"Where is your 'big gun?' " asked
the powdered matron who had com-3
late to the military ball.
"Ho went away a little while ago in
a disappearing --carriage," exph iae'l
the master of oeremonies.-Ghiecto
Tribune. ____
A Wonderful Womnan.
Mr. Hoon-" Your aunt Almira is a
emarkable woman."
Mrs. Hoon-"How so?"
Mr. Hoon-"Why, haven't you no
ticed that when she hears that a widow
is to be married she doesn't count on
her flagers and then wag her head
solemnly? Most remarkable old lady
I have ever seen."-Judge.
A Quick Choice.
"How did you like those two poem's
I sent you?" asked Willie Wishin3
ton.
"There was a long one and a sh->ri
one, wasn't there?" asked Miss Cey-.
enne.
"Yes. .Which did you prefer?"
"I haven't read them yet. Bat I
am sure I shall like the short one."
Washington Star.
Dler Ectort.
"A lot of women love to get tozcern
and talk over a great mass of imprac
tical subjects," said Mr.Blykins, "an I
then go home and leave the world u.
better nor wiser than it was befor.
"Yes," answered his wife, wit!,
serene amiability, "sometimes wotne!
do so. But they didn't get up tha~
peace conference at The Hague soini
time ago."-Washington Star.
I~ard to UJnderstand.
"Did you say be had studied nm
si?" said the gentleman with the
long hair, when the soloist had eeu~- -
eluded.
"Oh, yes, indeed!"
"It's very remarkable!"
"His voice?"
"Yes. If he has studied music I
can't understand why he should per
sist~ in trymg~ to sing. "-Washington
Star.