North Carolina Newspapers

"j?he Chronicle. J The aggregate debt of all the colonic! it Australia is $213 per Lead of the pop alationor $683,000,0001 ( It has been decided that electricity lr not dutibie. The question came- up through the organizing of a company tc manufacture electricity on the Canadian lido of Niagara Falls with the idea Belling it to American consumers, j - According to Judge it cost . the. tax-; pajers of New York State nearly half a minion aouars iu mu uiuiuw. e rally the cost is about a hundred thou iand dollars. 4 'This seems unfair," addf Judge, ."when it is remembered that it cost the murderer the price of a hatchet to dispose of his victim. - j , ' . i Switzerland keeps the 600th birthday of her Confederation next year. In 1291 tho "Forest Cantons" Uri, Schwyz and Unterwaldea formed the first league for mutual support and protection, againsl the House of Ilapsburg, and thus led to the foundation of the Confederation. The chief festivities Are to bo held at Brunnen, on the Lako of Lucerne, the jpot where Swiss independence was de clared formally some years later. ' " A fXr InTfnrm a ri onrnrirr1 Til 8 MD- au x'- - gregation on a recent; Sunday by making the following announcement: "Ncarlj W 1 V. A I V w v wealthy or well-to-do, rithough no one Wnnld think a from an rnsocction of. tht collection plates, which are burdened principally with nickles. 1 would re mind you, brethren, that the collection plate is not a nickel-in-tho-slot machine, and that a few bills would come in verj handy in the work of. the thurch." j Tht American Agriculturist notes ;tha1 "twenty-five separate agricultural insti tutions in Great Britain receive Govern ment aid for the purpose of assisting it providing general agricultural teaching, special practical instruction in dairj work, lectures oa forestry, and the car s rying oa of agricultural experiments. Scotland alone receives for this purpose an annual Government grant of nearly 9000, distributed among eleTen institutions, oi which the" University of Edinburg re- - receives tho largest appropriation, ol 2200. This looks rticavunish to Ameri- cans, for most of our States give ixnore for such purposes."' j . The Boston Cultivator is of the opinion that ."altogether the best way to board hired men is to hire thosu who ore mar ricd and pay them to board themselrcs. It mav cost more inmonef.but a married man in a comfortable tenant house, with garden and pig-pen of his own, will work, more steadily, be always on hand when needed, and will take generally more interest in his work than a man boarding in the house, and calculating to work only one season in a place. . wherever ha ' stays. It is quite true that the hired man who is married may save more money ii he has a good wife and a good garden. But the farmer need not regret that. He ought rather to rejoice in any prosperity that his tenant may achieve. If after a few years of working hy the month in a tenant house hq wishe3 to buy the hou3oj and garden attached, it will be still morel . to the farmer's benefit to sell U to him The lack of most farmers is good, efficient) hired help. Ho better way to Becure thiaj Z' be devised than to build suitable houses and sell them with small pieces o land attached." .- Thomas Btevens says ia an article ia Scribncr that railways are needed ifor th .commercial development of Africa. II -l 1 tV.l 4 1- Al 4. ti. ll inland waterways easily accessible tp commercial exploitation from without would i equire a system of railways aggrt . gating, perhaps, 2000 miles in length The chief lines would be around tie Livingstone Cataracts, on the Congo j from Vivi to Stanley Tool; a line from the coast to the Upper Niger; the long talked-of line from Suakim to Berber, and a lino 500 miles long from Moitv Isosa to tuo v ictoria xtyanza. Thav; four lines would absorb about ll)C miles of the 2000 estimate. Minor lines " would connext Lakes Kyassa and ' Ta'a f gtmyiki, take the place of the' Stcwirt Hoad around the Murchisoa Cataracts, . ca the bhire, aad overcome the diSctil ties at such points as Stanley Falls, ahd the cataracts of the Upper' Nile system. A length of forty-miles would be te liuuca Mire, a dozen raile3 al Lahore, and at various pomU lcnrzths of railway varjing from near 200 miles be - .j AiiiaiiTiKa ia a couple of inilc3 r.round some of t.-; I- " t; .. : -. . vc ; -Ac in Of TO A LITTLE DnoOK. Tcure not bo bf as you were then, - tilitle brook! - I mean those hazy summers when Wa boys roamed, full of awe, beside ' :Yur noisy, foaming, tumbling tide, Acd wondered If It could be true -, '' t That there were bigger brooks than you. D mighty brook, o pearleaa brook I : AJl up and down this reedy placj , ' - , Where lives tho brook, t ff ane-led for tha furitive dace? Tie redwing-blackbird did his best . T make us thlak he'd built his nest hnng it In a secret sbot . Far from tho brook, the telltale brook! id often, when the noontime heat : Parboiled the brook. ! We'd draw our boots and Bwinz our feet Upon the waves that,' in their play Would tasr us last and scoot awav: And mother never seemed to know What burnt our legs and chapped them so But father guessed It was the brook I And Fido how he loved to swim The cooling brook, : . henever we'd throw sticks for hir i ad how we boys did wish thattre ould only swim as good as he Why. Daniel Webster never vrn . ' Recipient of such great applause . ' ; As lido, battling with the brook t ' But once O most unhappy day - I For you, my brook i Come Cousin Sam along that way; And, having lived a spoil out west. Y here creeks aren't counted much at bast, le neither waded, swam, nor leap, - . Jut, with superb induTerence. stent ' Across that brook our mighty brook ! (Thy do you scamper on your way, You little brook, ' . ? s When I come back to you to-day? is it because you flee the crass That lunges at you as you pass, 1 as i in playful mood, it would Tickle the truant If It could, ' ' . j i ou chuckling brook you saucy brook I JOrls It you no longer know ; You fickle brook fThe honest friend of long ago? rTbe years that kept us twain apart xxare coangea my race but not my heart wany and sore those years. rid vet i I fancied you could not forget That happy time, my playmate brook ! Oh, sing again in artless glee, ' My little brook. The songyou used to sin forme : ." The song that's lingered In my ea - Dowouungij inese many yean; , My grief shall be forgotten when - - I hear your tranquil voice again ' .v: And that sweet song, dear little brook ! f-ujm Field, in, Chicago Xetcs. A' LAST CHORD. 0 -y -j f - fc woman of thirty-six, ws humming mer rily as she went to and fro in her dining room, and giving the last glance, the careful housewife's glance, to the family table. Whatever the season mieht.be. there was always a bunch of flowers tar enliven the board and testify to the deli cate touch of woman. ' t Suddenly Madami Lanirelot stoDned. as she recognized her husband's step, and he had hardly entered the room when she exclaimed; "What is the matter? You look; un set." , r- ' I have reason to! be, darlincr." he re plied, when a man hears at tho same moment of the failure and the death of his only brother " . . You brother, oh. mv boor dear!" cried Madame. Hismarriasre. as vou know, was an unfortunate one," continued the husband, 4 'he was an artist in heart and soul, and forgot everything in his lore for an Italian lady, who had a madonna-like face and wonderful muueal talent. Her dark eyes bewitched him, and in spite of ray entreaties, and our father . opposi- tion, he mamed her. He was utterly incapable of managing his business, and was made reckless by tho death of his adored wife. Yesterday, in despair, he took his own life, and on mo devolves the task of settling his affairs in an hon orable manner. I must do this dear, for he was a Langelot." , . . rse," was the reolr. t "it is your duty." - ' - - , . There is somethincr else. said. Mon sieur Langelot. slowly, and his wife,' startled by hb , hesitation, exclaimed anxiously:. .' - ' "What do you meant" "My brother has left a' son, he is twelve years old, but delicate and de formed, and will never bo able to nrovidc for himself." ; i "And you think it is our duty to adopt himl" i . My dear " t "You are perfectly rieht ." cried the; young woman, kissing her husband! fondly, "how good you are, dear I Bring the poor boy home, and he shall be our, Clairetto's elder brother." ? ! And thus the orphan's fate was settled by these two.simplo loving souls. ' .' Monsieur and Madame Langelot, who had been married twelve years, idolized their only child, j Clairette 'was three years old, a frail, dclicato little creature',! highly nervous, treated liico a queen, and. somewhat despotic as spoiled children usually are. . , , j In a few days Lucien Lancelot arrived, at his uncle's home. He was painfully deformed pale add delicate, and of his! mother's radiant beautv had inherits nothing except the large dark eyes,which! Illumined his thin face with their bril liant flashes. , Close against his breast hq pressed a violin,' his dearest treasure. - A At sight of this stranger the little Clairette began to cry and sob cohvull sively. Her cousin looked timidly at the fair-haired and gaily dressed little creal tore for a minute, then rabing his instrni cent, Eaid softly, J "Listen, the violin will sing to you r ilo r.'.t cry." . 1 i ...1 L.j v.: ; ; I:..-; - ;- tl-t'a Lovr moved v.-o:: Ir '. tl... fci,;:. 1 CI a r-v vet ten J:r l:- f ' 1 toothed the child' farg, aad "sho was silent.' 'V' ! '-'I -' X- : .-. "More, morel- 1 8ing again,., pretty music!" cried Clairette when, the player stopped, and she clapped her little hands in glee. ; ' ! . '. ; . - , So the wonderful violin . played on, seeming' to speak words of enchantmef and showing - plainly -what poor hunchback had received n3T his maternal inheritance.' Fjom that day a tended af. fection unicr'the Iwo children, and tho years passed oh. Luc'en has become a man, and is asso ciated with hi3 uncle in business. v He is a most valuable assistant, being .gifted with extraordinary intelligence. He has not neglected his musical talent, and has had the best instruction. Do. you know, my boy," said, his uncle, 'that you will some day be a great composer, our pride and glory VI ' ' My only glory ," replied ! Lucien, softly, "is in knowing that Clairette is pleased with me." , . He speaks ' the truth, poor fellow; his whole happiness in life depends upon his cousin s smile. She too, the! petted sensitivo child, is and has become a lovely now grown up woman, bhe loves her cousin with trans sincere affection, and prefers to all other music the air first they met, he played for her when s so that in the family the melody is ajways called "Clairette's Bong." It is a composition worthy of a master-musician, and since drying the child's- tears, has become the souvenir of her earliest joys. ;; j s ; What happened next was inevitable. One day Lucien acknowledged to him self that he loved Clairette, and called himself a fool for daring to raise his eyes to the daughter of his benefactor. True, aha was his cousin, but how could he, the poor hunch-back, hope to marry the beautiful blooming girl? He concealed his grief within his heart, and the violin, his only, confidant, wept and sobbed for his hopeless love, j . ! Claire Langelot, a gentle, affectionate girl, treated Lucien as her dearest friend and counselor, confiding to him her ! in most thoughts. One day she artlessly told him of her love for Ilaoul Darboz, and then in a sudden burst of happiness, exclaimed: j : ' "Here, Lucien, takes your violin and play C.'aif ette's Song. for me 1" - . ; .Ah. what bitter irony that was ! The instrument was forced to sing her happy love, under his martyred fingers! r ; j: A little later, Rioul and Claire were married. Lucien played the wedding march.' ' It was his own com position, and all through the music a mystic strain was interwoven by the master's skill, and filled the vaulted edifice with its tender melody. - The bride started when she recognized her favorite air, . ; Poor dear cousin," she thought, i "it, is all for me that he is playing." At the wedding breakfast they awaited the musician j impatient to congratulate him on his new composition, but he did not appear, j "An artist's caprice," said- Uncle Langelot. "I'll wager that he is busy writing out his latest improvisation.". Clairie was grieved at Lucien's ab sence, but that evening she and her hus band set out for Fontainebleau, which (waa the first stopping place of their wed ding tour. . On arriving at the hotel near the grand old forest, the young bride sat looking out of the window to enjoy the view and the scent of the fir trees. Night fell, jcalm and quiet, the trees were rustled, by the caresses of the breeze, a sweet perfume came from the forest, and the only sound was a soft in definable murmur that seemed like the breathing of nature. , " " Claire turned to Kaoul,' saying : .'!.'' "Do you know, I am anxious about Lucien. Her maybe 111, I did, not see him, even to say good-bje," j Ilaoul clasped her in his arms as he re plied with love's jealousy j "Forget him and every one, my wife, all your thoughts now belong to me," and bcneatli the blue sky where ' the golden stars were sparkling, she forgot all else in the embrace of him to whom sho had given her heart. Suddenly there arose on the still night air a soft strain of musio that sounded like a sigh, a lamentation, and Claire, roused from her ecstacy of love ex claimed: ; ( ' , "Hark! iThat is ClairettVs Song. Dear Lucien i I know that he has come to celebrate my happiness, to play for me on my wedding-night. But, ah, how sad the music sounds." "You are dreaming my love,'? said Rao'ul, as hd closed the window, "I did not hear any music." .. She listened ajain, but the silence was unbroken and once more she forgot everything but her love. At dawn the next day, in a pathway near the . hotel there, was found lying across his broken violin, the dead body of Lucien Langelot. The brief lament of .unspoken! hopeless love had floated, up for a moment to the young bride's ear, but the last chord from Lucien? violin had awakened, only the birds of the forest.- The Epoch, - " t The Broom-Corn District. . Coles and Douglas Counties, in Illi nois, produce half of tho broom-corn grown in the United States. The soil of these counties which is strong, quick, and rich, is; well adapted for the culture of the brush. Fifty years ago the teri ritory embraced by the two counties was a great swamp, full of large ponds and was called "socKern" land. Just what "sockcm" means in this connection nobody seems to know. In later years the swamps and! ponds were drained by means of large open ditches and miles of drain tile. . This drainage left an almost inexhaustible soil. . Broom-corn is sup posed to exhaust soil more . than any vegetable that grows in that climate, but there. i3 a field near Bushtonin Coles County, owned by I. YT. Sain, tbit thb -oa produce J it3 fcrty-ni: v.'"-;-j crcp cl irocra-corn. Joe, the Worm i Han. Joe rierce.the "only worm merchant. died in this city a few dsys agp. J oe was well known on the water front. RS sto?e was a portable bucket and gunny sack. place of business - was nearly sJways open, for Joe slept but little. He had no partner but a diminutive Scotch terrier that was constantly at odds v with the whole world, and his only stock m trade was worms. . ' ' Four years since Joe, who ' had an in terest in pure " politics, determined to register as a voter. The vKegistrar's clerks subjected him to a close cross-fire of questions because his mien was sus piciously humble and his garb seedy and worn. . . - . . ' "What . is your business?", he was finally asked, and, drawing himself to gether, Jos-answered in all seriousness: "I am a worm merchant." . He was passed, and the story of his tilt with ; the commissioners . traveled through the mazes of the water front, and honest Joe was thenceforth known as "the worm merchant." " It was ten years ago that Joe appeared on the water front and inaugurated his enterprise. He took up his stand at the corner of Clay ahd East streets, with his slimy wares concealed in a bucket.bear ing the advertisement in prominent let ters made with shoeblack: "Wirms, Fresh an Gud." ' "You?ve spelled that wrong, Joe," remarked a sailor to him one day. Never you mind," was Joe's reply. " Wirms is worms, and I people as wants 'cm knows where to get 'em." . . y Late at night, when noisy revelry reigned high in . the brilliantly lighted saloons along Bast street, Joe would go down to the wharf and push out through the muddy water in a small boat. - Next to au asphaltum cover Joe was the next best friend to the terodo-strickea piles, for he searched diligently for the long, wriggling' things until his gunnysack was almost alive with them. Next morning he would take up his position on East street and wait' for customers. Nearly every lover of the rod patronized him, and the superstition spread space that Joe was a sort of piscatorial mas cot, and that his worms were "sure to fetch." , He contributed by his thrift to the support of his " mother and sisters. When the hews came that he - was dead the whole water front mourned his loss. San Francisco Chronicle. i An Opportune Thirty Cent3. ! "I had a most extraordinary piece of luck last Sunday," remarked a young broker to a Tribune reporter a day or two ago, "and for it I have been thanking a kind Providence ever since. I invited a girl cousin to go down' to Long Beach for the afternoon, take supper there and return in the early evening. After we started I discovered that I had somehow brought only 2.90 with me. I had one railroad ticket j but with another required, ; two suppers, car fares and ferriage, fig ure as I wanted, I was just about twenty cents short. It was one of those horri ble cases of imiling and joking without, and a sort- of .whited sepulchre within, wondering wildly how to pull through. We reached the beach, and Iwas re volving the plan of throwing myself on tho mercy of the ' clerk and offering a check, when we stopped in our stroll along shore to examine some shells and seaweed, when blamed if lying right at my feet wasn't thirty cents a quarter and a nickel. - ; : "I stooped down and picked them upT in a hurry. - C What have you foundr asked my companion. . v K 4A little silver,' I said, carelessly. " Oh, how lovely. How much?' " Only thirty cents,' I said, as though I was disappointed at not finding a bag of it. ' I wasn't disappointed. Never was so happy in my. life. It "was just enough to pull me through, and I reached home with ten cents, but I tell you it don't do to lean oa your luck like that everyday," iTst York Tribune. Why the Dayats Hunt Heads. Many Dayak tribes of Australia ara still addicted to head-hunting, a prac tice which has made their name notor ious, and which but lately threatened the destruction of the whole race. -It is essentially a religious practice so much so that no important act in their ; lives seems sanctioned unless accompanied by the offering of one or more heads." The child is born under adverse influences unless the father has presented a head or two to the mother before its 'birth. The young man can not become a man and arm himself with the mandau, or war club, until he has beheaded at least one victim. The wooer is . rejected by the maiden of his choice unless he can. pro duce one head to adorn their new home. The chief fails to secure recognition un til he can exhibit to his subjects a head secured by hi3 own hand. No dying person can enter the kingdom beyond the grave with honor unless he is accom panied by one or more headless compan-. ions. Every rajah owes to his rank the tribute of a numerous escort after death. Popular Science Monthly. Kn Electrical Biding School. . It is said that an electrical riding school is shortly to be equipped in Paris. This intention is doubtless attributable to the success which attended the open- ing ol ue eiectncai nuing scnooi in xiice last year. Here, it will be remembered, wooden horses were used, and propelled round tho ring by the power of electric motors, - There was a series of rings,on which an equal start Was made, but the relative speed of the horses depended on the radii of the respective ring3, those inside, of smaller circumference, being patronhjed by the steady-going and older individuals, while the delights of rapid locomotion were secured to the riders oa thet outer circles. At the same time the rider could reduce the speed or stop in stantly by means of a controling arrange ment. .This refinement of the primitive merry-go-roursd created cvdtq a furore ia iC3, and it -;en.i3 not icbaDle that bcrcr? Icr.- it mil Und 'iU Vrav to thil NEWS AND NOTES FOR WOIIEN. Miniature pins are the rage. Aliondonj fad "is gold-kid shoes for evening. v-i : '. , The myrtle, blossom is - the Austrian bridal "flower1. ; ' : : ; V ' , .' ' : Hani Tjlavinar is a very picturesque and artistic accomplishment. V i' A combination of black and yellow is very much in favor now. l.: : " ; j ; An East Boston woman ha3 organized a United Order of Odd Ladies. 1 Fashionable sunshadss for the country and seaside are of unbleached silk. Black underwear has come to bp con sidered an essential to a black toilet. There is a rumor' that the hair is shortly to be worn in nets down thejback. ; A large, full white -veil, dottedj with black,' is the fashionable one without a hat. .- . V h . The Spanish jacket' is an excellent de- vice for remodeling stained or faded corsages. . Miss 3Iary Libby is the only woman ; chiropodist in London, and sheLhails from America. i f.ittlft mrW dresses are madd much: shorter at tie waist than they hav$ been for many years. : i -The Princes3 of Wales is considered to be one qf the finest amateur piano players in England. - ' " Black satin, divided into inch by hairlines of whiter is neat for ladjes house dresses.. : checks iderly Shade hats of colored horse hair are trimmed with- ribbon bows, long pins and a" feather pompon. ; r Mrs. Davis, -wife of the Senator from Minnesota, has made all her own 'dresses since she was ten vears old. Female typewriters nave appearea in the Government oflices jn Lond.on and are said to 'give satisfaction. . ,: Black velvet necklets are worn J cut on the cross fiom piece velvet and fastened in front by1 a small jeweled pin. J . t . Mrs. Maty E. Beasely, of Philadelphia, : has an income of $20,000 a yeir from her invention of a barrel hooping ma chine. J r When the juice of acid . fruits has touched colored cottons a perfect restora tion will be accomplished by the use of ammonia, j ' Wigs used to be confined to oldj women who had lost their hair, but are now worn by young ones who have plenty of their own. What is known as "linen thread" em- broidery is rapidly increasing in fashion- able favorl simply because thinsrnewf" ' some- fashion to have bamboo furni ture for tne country houies made from Oriental designs, with no two pieces ex actly alikej. j , The real Leghorn hat 'shouldj. not be bent, twisted, caught up or turned up in any way, a fact some young women seem to have forgotten. r Mrs.-U. 8. Grant is rarely see outside of the family" circle. ; Her eyesight lias become very poor and her health is somewhat broken, i ' j . Round waists are the capricp of the season with the Parisiennes, but' they are not short, being made as long as the wearer's figure will permit. ; - .The firs application of a hair dye. to the head of a votary of fashion c Dsts $5. The retouches," which follow from time to time, are made for $1. - ' v Hats foi: autumn are either ve: y small or very large. Aa is usual in the faU, fruit of different kinds is used as trim ming; iowever, clusters of ostrich tips ire much jmore stylish. ) A y ounsr Russian lady named Olsra Loubanowski has made a bet to ride on horseback) from St. Petersburg to Odessa, a distance of 1500 kilometers. : Numer ous heavy wagers have been made on the attempt, -I.'''' ' ' One of the pretty California heiresses is Miss Grace McDonough, who will in herit a fortune of 3, 000, 000 from' hex mother. She is a tall, stately girl, with a haughty manner but a sweet and at tractive face. : ; . , v Young! lady travelers use dark ging ham made in tailor fashion. The gowns are usually cut with a double-breasted basque, a small revers collar open at the throat, ahd have moderately large mutton-leg sleeves. . ; . ;:: '',;':'. Buttons are 'out," and not only are bodices jclosed invisibly, but are "made without 'any visible seams, the material being cutvon the bias and so drawn on the carefully fitted lining that there are no outside seams save those under the arm.' '. The very latest Parisian fad in wraps is . the marabout cape.s . The marabout feathers are strung on fine silk cord and woven like a fish-net the fluffy feathers filling up the meshes. As yet .there" are only a few samples of these capes in America. , -' J','r;v:i-.; ;r .-A" Velve in combination with other ma terials will be much Used during the autumn and winter. The usual, combina tion is ah underskirt, sleeves and collar of velvet : occasionally, however, it is used for the' back breadths, the sleeves and collar. .' : " , Figured dress goods are no longer.in the lead although the most improbable and bizarre , combinations are the vogue. Three or four different materials in one costumej of colors which have never been, supposed to have any relation to each other, arje used.' :;; : 'fi' .;. -j ',f-.t The fashionable light wrap for the fall is inj the still popular cape styje, con sisting of a flounce of black lace applied to a narrow, deep yoke,' the points of which reach below the belt, front" and back. The yokes on new models are variously decorated - Mis3 Courtney Walthal, daughter of the Senator from Mississippi, is described as by all odds the prettiest young woman in. tha Senatorial circle at Wcihir-tcn. Ehs is a rctito brtinctts Xtiih. a. well-' c. r cc ,' - ''KNEi: DEEP! KNEE DEEP" VSneexdeep! knee deep I" I am a ciJ ' ' ' esain! ; - '-- I hear the cowbells tinkling down the Iar ?, The plaintive whippoorwills, the, distant . vcall, ! . ' " ' ' Of quails beyond tha hill where night-i';- . :. hawks fall : . . From lambent skies to fields of golden grain. I hear, the milkmaid's song, the clanking chain ,' . . Of plowman homaward bound, tho lumber ing wain, And,'-down the darkling vale 'mid rushes - , tall, 1 ' . ' .. ' - ,: . . ::: "Knee deep! knee deep!" ,; - We're ail a ! home John, Wesley, i little Jane . i :. .' Dead long ago.! and the boy-soldiers twain " That sleep by purling stream or old stona wall ' . ' ' . In some far-off and Unknown grave we ro ; ail r. ; i-o-- ; ' " . A.t home with mother! heartache gona and '. pain! - ;, "Knee deep! knee deepT Henry J. Stockai-d, in the Cosmopolitan -4, - ' " ' - - ' IIU3I0R OF TIIE DAY. Goes into tea without being-asked MUk. . Society leaders are in the swim every where but at 'the seaside. PucJc. Arbitration gives two parties, the halves of a pretty stale and bitter loaf . Pud. "-j ' r', " !- : i Ladies change that found . in the pockets of husbands at night. jJonton Courier. j ';; - ' It may be i said of a man who invests in a quarry that, his lot is a hard one t- Some 'men, stand on principles, others trample on them. : The latter, naturally, make the most noise. Silver. is sold in France by the "kilo." In . this country it comes in quartz. Commercial Advertiser. A man must necessarily have a sharp eye in order to past a piercing glance. Binghamton BepubUean. "s ' 'A good lathering is the first requisite Ol a goou. suave.: ' a umu txic ucu thing for . a bad shaver. " New York Herald. 4 Do you dictate to your typewriter?"" . 3' 3 ' 1 A. T ! 3 -A . A USeO. TO aO SO, MJU.i X UiIUCU net ojjv now she - dictates " to me.v Boston Courier. There is reason in all things. Few never call their -wives 'old hens"; until they-; became broilers. Commercial Adr tertuer. " . . Dedhed .iBayi doctor, -what kind of medicine will cure my cold?" Doctor Smart "The kind I prescribe." - Ymi- lee Blade. - An uptown man recently 5 una, al- family and has not sines-been foui though his ; nqse: turned xw.-PhUadel-phia Times. If money could be borrowed as easily .as trouble, the world would be full of round-shouldered people. Indianapolh Ham's Horn. V Waggin' Their Tongue3. "Did you ever know that a wagon spoke?" "Yes, E heard one complain about being tired." The Bostohian. 'Will you -love me when I'm old?" sang a maiden of uncertain age. "Will I?" murmured a crusty old bachelor. "Do I, - you mean?",- Washington JStar. Youll be a President, perhaps, : . If well you run life's race." r ; v ; : 'l'd rather be," the boy replied, - : "The. man who plays first base." ' ' ; ' ) ; Washington Post, ; The new assessor is a very honest man." "You don't say b! What- has he been doing?" 4 'Why, he told me he often- taxed his own memory." West Shore.' ' ' '. -"Judge," said the prisoner, who had robbed an art store, in a pleading tone, "there ain't any law to prevent a man's taking photographs, is there?"- Chicagc Tribune. - - - n. lit 1 4.1 wuuiu -a iiur aruuuu iuc iuuuu x the! siffn -bf rain." - Bride (sweetly) 'And a ring around a woman's finger ia lhe; sign- of- Groom (sadly) "Reign." Jewelers1 Weekly. : Miss Amy "Now I'll sing you 'Only a. Lock of Her Hair. " Young Dolley (after she has made several false starts) "You don't seem ; to have the right key for that lock." -LippincoWs. Susan (reciting)1 'Half a league, half a league, half a league onward " Fa ther "There, Susan, that'll do. We don't want any pf that baseball nonsense in this house.! 'Boston Transcript. : If progress now so fresh and fleet, -; i Keeps on, it's just as like as not r- We'll take our baths, and shave, and eat v -1 Iy putting nickles in the slot. -S- l - ; Washington Post . First Citizen (at" a street row) "Is that, man lying in the ' ambulance one of the : fighters?" Second - Citizen "No, he jwas passing at the time and tried to stop the fight. : There go the fighters walking off now." Boston Herald. ' 'No," ! said Professor Feelem, the smineni. ; pnrenoiogisi, mjr iumiu does not yield, a life full of sunshine, as many suppose, T tell you;" and he wiped away a tear. "I've felt some pretty hard bumps in my life." Ligh 1 'Are you a student or a practicing physician?'; asked the- young woman of the vouncf man who had been known as "Doctor" ' since last June. "Neither, he said, with a depth of disappointment which she could not fathom. Washing t. Ion Star, j . . -; . Mr. tChugwater (explaining matters to visitors) -"3Iy wife is generally well, but she is suSering to-day from rheuma tism, influenza, toothache, a score thumb and an inflamed eye. In her case it never rains but it pours. Mrs. Chugwater (ex plaining matters also) V1 don't- make any fuss about it, though. .1 aa not like? my husband. lie never pains, but he roars." Chicago Tribune. Prima Minister Crisjri, of Itj, It:-.:;in rcrc:ut;:--r- c.;'. - tl'zt-; 7 .