'i
V-.'
Official Organ of Washington County.
FIRST OF ALL THE NEWS.
Circulars extensively In the Counties el
Washinztcn, Martin, Tyrrell md Esaafort
Jobf rinting In ItsYarious Branchas
THE . ' I JSfCV : i ff'l ' ' ' I NKXCl.L.I.KXX:
MIL ferine ISmfnlfMir fem ! ADSDIG MEDron-
I m it IV J I I I I 3 I E I lEil I B. 1 IB 91 131 I Et 11 -Y I Jl Iff I B. 41 IB a I K 91 IKS - I H SJ m i II I -91 X7 I K i I E SI I 3 I I a ' 71 I E M I
l.OO A TEAR IX ADVANCE. ' ' "FOR GOD, FOR COUMRY, AND TOR TRUTU." SINGLE COPY, 5 CENTS.
VOL. IX. ' T PLYMOUTH, N. C, FRIDAY, JULY 22, 1898. ' NO. 14.
. . ; : ; :
SONC.
If Mies bloomed the whole year through
And rosea never faded;
If skies were always bright and blue,
With no dark clouds o ershaded;
We ne'er had known the charms of spring,
The cool delight the shadows bring.
And should the sun ne'er set or rise,
Lost were eve's graces tender,
The moon's soft light, the starry sklef,
The morning's glowing splendor;
The melting hues of day and night
Would ne'er have mingled In the sight.
If life no care nor trouble had,
Sour were the wine of pleasure;
The heart that's gayest oft is sad;
'Tis labor sweetens leisure;
When smiles and tears in life's cup blend
The years flow happy to the end. ,
Alfred Lavington.
FAREWELL to the DOBSONSj
In every community, uo matter how
democratic, one family, at least, is
considered beneath the social level.
Their lower rank does not come from,
any difference of wealth, intellect or
morality, but is due, almost entirely,
to the general shiftlessness of the
neglected family. Often the judg
,ment of the neighborhood is just, but
it is not always so. - -
Mrs. Dobson once said, "How do
they know? We never Lad any chance
here in Nebraska. We were as good
A3 the best where we come from, and
I'm sure I've worked hard enough to
be somebody; but what can a woman
o witn seven enitaren, ana a man as
lazy as the Platte river?"
Mr. Dobson looked up with a good-
natured crin. but said nomine. Ad-
arently, he took no more notice of
his wife, who went off to spread her
He tilted his rude chair back against
the trunk of a giant Cottonwood, and
looked over the landscape with lazy
enjoyment. From his position, he
could see down long vistas of dark,
shining, blue-green corn-stalks and
beyond them the Platte.
"Meanest, dirtiest water I ever
saw, he thought, dubiously. " Taint
no good to anybody. Don't fetch
4own any mill power; can't tote any
trade boats; isn't ever two days alike,
It's so shifty and sneaking. 'As lazy
as the Platte.' Well! well!"
, He sighed, and glanced sheepishly
last tattered garment of the washing.
He watched her uneasily a moment,
and then his eyes wandered vaguely
to the far-off purple bluffs across the
river; but what he saw was a distance
of years instead of miles.
"Abner, "called his wife, plaintively,
"just look at me. I reckon Mrs. Bar
nard hasn't got any such sand-burs as
we have. She don't get pricked to
pieces when she goes to spread her
washing. I do wish you'd" but she
stormed hooelesslv.
" 4 . J.
"iViis xsarnara aon t nave to spread
liar mrn.a'hincr " rnvr ent.ad A liner Ana.
gedly; "she's got yards and yards of
clothes-line and pins and baskets and
a machine." 4
Melvina Dobson glanced at her hus
band anxiously. Never before had he
seemed uneasy or envious. "I reckon
- , o
alio xiarnaru uas uer urawuac&s, sne
admitted, generously. '
V "Yes," answered her husband,
moodily, "and Barnard ain't no more
willing than I'd be if I was him. His
paw left him money, and mine didn't.
I know one thing, though, if I was
Barnard, Mis Barnard wouldn't wash,
if she did have a machine. I'd sell
the pigs first."
TVfolvinn lnnlrod o.f. him rrrntofnlltr
"I know-it, Abner," she answered,
soothingly, "you always have been
good to me. If there ain't money
enough for both, you always want me
have it.. ' I reckon tain t your fault
that we are so poor; I don't care for
myself, but the children."
r- Rtia firnlra nff" anililonlv and tPAnt.
tin 4- rraT fba Qiiontr rlmnat I Knur
tiok down his rusty hoe, an1 passed
rlluctautly into the neglected-patch.
He was working with great delibera
tion when his half-grown daughter
passed, without speaking.
"Sallie," he called.
nni I 1 - i i 1. 1 '
xne gui seemeu uoi iu near mm.
She held her head with an air of
offended dignity, and looked neither
to the right nor to the left. A second
n e.. . l .4.i. i ...1.1 l, i.
Call uuui uer i-mer uiuugui iiei tu tv
defiant 2Jause.
"I say," he called, ' lazily, "what
ails you? Have I done anythiug?"
"Reckon not," she answered, sul
lenly. "And your maw don't seem natural.
Is she ailing?"
Tlsii l looked him full in the face,
" were not pleasant. "Oh,
s-"wered, sharply, "why,
vn out with church
N!iv is. a It's most
61 tv her new silk
air. And
"" -en's."
" new
ed,
,w
dress turned yellow in the sun years
ago. Mrs. Barnard gave me some dye
for Easter eggs, and when I heard
about Sanseu's party, I thought I'd
color maw's dress and have it ready."
A tragic silence followed. Abner
looked up questiouingly.
"She can't wear it ho more,"
answered the girl, unsteadily; "it
turned brown and green, and went all
apotted and speckled."
For a minute the silence was heavy;
then Abner said gently, "Never mind,
Sallie; I'm real proud of you for try
ing. Now you run along and help
your maw. You're a good girl,
Sallie."
The child went back to the shabby
sod house with smiling eyes, and left
her father to his own devices. From
the force of long habit he sat down to
cultivate his thoughts, while the bugs
and the weeds waxed strong among
the potatoes. What he thought today
was something new and strange, and
not agreeable. Often his mind re
verted to the coming party.
When the company finally assembled
at the Sanson's they repaid Abner
Dobson for his speculations by freely
and frankly discussing him and his.
"Oh, folks like the Dobsons don't
care," insisted Mrs. Sansen; "they
could get ahead if they wanted to,
Sansen and me didn't have anything
but a mortgage when we started, and
now look at the farm and its improve
ments. "
"The rest of us ain't far behind,"
laughed Mrs. Early. "Only fourteen
years ago we drove into the state with
a span of horses, a wagonload of
furniture, and two dollars."
"We are all better off," suggested
someboby else, "thn our folks that
we left behind."
"Except the Dobsons," corrected
Mrs. Sansen.
"Why are they so far behind?"
asked Mrs. Barnard, in the tone of a
newcomer. "Weren't they early set
tlers?" "Of course they were," answered
Mrs. Sansen, "but they didn't use
their chances. They were too shift
less for anything."
A little faded woman in rusty black,
whom Sallie Dobson had spoken of as,
"even Mis' Jenkins," looked up with,
keen protest in her eyes.
Mrs. Early saw the glance, and has
tened to smooth things over by say
ing, "Maybe the Dobsons haven't used
judgment, but they did work better
before they got so discouraged. While
the rest of us were getting a start,
they had more than their share of
sickness and death and accidents to
their property."
"You needn't worry about that,"
broke in Mrs. Jenkins, "they are going
back to the mountains. Alr3. Dobson
told me that they was tired of being
lonesome." .
A sudden uneasy hush fell on the
little company, followed by a confused
demand for further information.
Mrs. Barnard sat listening to the
talk, which had drifted back to the
days before she lived in the neighbor
hood. When a pause finally occurred
in the conversation, she turned to her
companions and asked brightly, "Why
can't we give the Dobsons a farewell
party? I am sure it would please
them; and whatever we saw fit to give
would seem prompted by friendship
rather than charity."
The women looked at each other in
keen surprise, but before one could
protest, Mrs. Barnard spoke again; "I
was thinking how much Mr. Dobson
needed another horse, since one of
his span died. I am goiug to give him
my old Bess. She is homely and
rather mean, but she can work. Mr.
Barnard said yesterday that we had
too many horses."
"I can't do anything so handsome,"
exclaimed Mrs. Jenkins, "but I can
give a quilt or two."
"And I some canned fruit, and a
ham or so," added Mrs. Early.
The enthusiasm spread, and amid a
confusion of tongues, the list of dona
tions grew and grew.
"Suppose you stop on the way
home, Mrs. Barnard, "suggested some
one, "and tell them about the party.
I'm afraid they wouldn't be tidy
enough to enjoy a surprise."
So when the party dispersed, Mrs.
Barnard delivered the neighborhood
message, and passed on with a smile
of satisfaction.
From that time forth a new life
dawned on the Dobsons. Their lamp
was the last in the valley to go out at
night, and the first to be lighted in
the morning. The whole family
seemed possessed with a fever of joy
ous excitement.
"Got to have everything slick and
mended," admonished Abner; "can't
go off leaving things shiftless like."
When the eventful day of the party
finally arrived, everything was in per
fect order. Two hours before the ear
liest guest could be expected, Mrs.
Dobson went to the door in her fresh,
new calico, and looked about anxious-
"They will be along now pretty
soon," she announced, excitedly;
"you haven't forgot your piece, have
you, Abner?" -
"I reckon not," he ''answered,
'ottghtfiilly, as he flicked a straw
a his new overalls; "it begins
S?ow neighbors.'"
'i. never mind about sayiu' it.
now, paw, "she interrupted, "I reckon
you will get through when the time
comes." ,
But Abner was not certain. He
repeated it over and over again. Even
during the arrival of the people, he
could not escape its haunting phrases.
He forgot it only when he went to see
the '.nexpected gifts from his neigh
bors. Then his vision suddenly grew
dim, and his mind confused.
He wandered back to the end of the
house which the men had appropri
ated. After a moment he drew him
self erect, and began in a loud, arti
ficial tone: "Fellow neighbors "
The unusual address attracted the
notice of those nearest. A wave of
silence passed on to the women's edge
of the company.
"Feller neighbors, "he began again,
"me and Mis' Dobson feel to thank
you for this here unexpected notice.
Mayby we-uns ain't been any credit to
you-all before, but after this we're
going to be."
He cleared his throat, while the
people looked at each other question
ingly. His wife prompted him quickly.
"Mis' Dobson aud me " she whis
pered. "Mis' Dobson and me, "he repeated,
"got lonesome, and thought we'd bet
ter go back to our kin. But lately
you-all have showed we-uns that there
is kin nearer than them of blood.
They didn't give us no farewell party.
You-all have been mighty good; Mis'
Dobson and me know that there ain't
no other such neighborhood on earth.
So we ain't going to the mountains."
A gasp of astonishment, almost of
consternation, escaped the company.
"We ain't going," he concluded;
"we-uns are going to stay right here
and act like white folks. That's all,
fellow neighbors." He sat down in
silence and confusion.
The neighbors were startled, but
they had undertaken to make this
party a success; to a man, they arose
to meet the new occasion. For the
first time they made the Dobsons wel
come. After the party was over, when the
last wagons were separating, Mrs. San
sen said, "I'm glad we did it, anyhow.
It's just made people of them Dob
sons. Him and Billy come over and
cut all them Canada thistles we
blamed them for."
"And mended our barbed wire
fence," added Mrs. Early, "and fixed
Mrs. Jenkins's plow."
"Say, Mrs. Barnard," laughed some
one, "your party was a big fizzle as a
'good-by.'"
"Perhaps," she answered, softly,
"but I think it was a great success as
a farewell to the Dobsons. Good
night, dear."
The well-satisfied neighbors passed
under the quiet stars, which looked
down peacefully, long after they had
vanished, on the lazy, vacillating
Platte, and, today Dobsons, re
generated by neighborly kindness and
made active by sympathy and ap
proval, bear no resemblance to the
sluggish, unlovely stream. Youth's
Companion.
Making Our Flag.
One may pay anything from one
cent to $150 for a flag of the United
States. The latter price will buy a
beautiful silk flag, 12x18 feet in size.
The cheapest flags are stamped on
muslin with the colors red and blue,
and are then tacked or pasted upon
sticks; they are not guaranteed to
wash. Of this kind is the little penny
flag which the small boy wears on the
lapel of his coat. Such flags are put
through a printing press like calico
shirts and come out all colored at the
ate of 100 a minute. Girls then snip
them apart with sharp shears and glue
them to small sticks hardly bigger
than matches. The best flags have a
canvas baud sewn along the back,
through which a rope may be run for
fastening them to the pole tackle.
Anybody is at liberty to make
United States flags. Thus it comes
about that all sorts of patterns of the
national ensign are on the market and
in use. But if anyone desires to have
the colors as they ought to be refer
ence must be made to the standard
adopted by the army and navy. This
standard, altered from time to time by
the addition of fresh stars,is preserved
and will continue to be kept by the
secretaries of war and the navy. In
the war department of Washington,
close by Secretary Alger's office, is
displayed in a glass case the true
regulation flag of this country. To
exhibit it better it is illuminated by a
brilliant electric light. This is the
original, all others are imitations, oi
else they are not correct. Detroit
Free Press.
An Aztec Eijjht Feet Tall.'
Professor Moorhead, the archaeolo
gist, who has been exploring an Azteo
ruin three miles west of Phttnix, Ariz.,
has discovered portions of the skele
ton of thehuman being whose stature
he computes to have been about eight
feet. He Ll3 a'so some well-preserved
pottery an A other utensils used by the
early dwelV-p in the valley and which
he found k i Lie ruius. The professor
is workij iu the inter4t of an
eastern n j 'seum. Cleveland Leader.
.C lleiuai'kable Echo.
Theur ,i, .t remarkable echo in the
world r;rat which comes from the
north-Have t f a church in Shipley. It
di-'tt i., uits any sentence not
, aty-one syllables.
A THRILLING ESCAPE.
REMARKABLE BREAK FOR LIBERTY
BY WAY OF A FLYWHEEL BELT.
The Most Daring Encape From Prison
That Has Come Within the Knowledge
of William A. Pinkerton Burglar
Stead man's Mathematical Calculations.
It is one thing to catch a thief and
it is another thing to hold him. Dur
ing the meeting of the chiefs of police
of all the larger cities of the United
States and Canada, -which occurred at
Milwaukee recently, there were rem
iniscences without number of remark
able captures and of escapes which
bordered closely upon the miraculous.
Tomes of criminal history were taken
from the shelves of memory and
opened at chapters of thrilling inter
est by the men who had been them
selves the principal actors. History?
Yes, that is the proper word, but most
men would pronounce it romance.
"The most remarkable escape from
prison that I can recall," said William
A. Pinkerton to a group of chiefs and
superintendents, "was that of Frank
Steadman from the San Quentin prison.
But I'll not tell you about it, for here
is John Glass, who caught Steadman
and sent him back to San Quentin."
Chief Glass straightened his six
feet three inches, and pinched the
brown imperial on his under lip re
flectively for a moment before he re
sponded to the looks of inquiry bent
upon him by those not familiar with
the story.
"The escape to which you refer,
Pinkerton, was made after I sent
Steadman to San Quentin, and not be
fore. I was not the fortunate one to
get him after that last wonderful
break. And, to tell the truth, I have
never taken to myself much credit for1
taking him the time I did, for it was
to a considerable degree a matter of
good fortune. You see, we were just
at that time keeping our eyes open for
a bauk robber by the name of Barnes,
who had gone into one of the banks
out there, covered the one man who
happened to be alone in the place at
the time, locked him up in the vault,
and then coolly walked out of the
bank and out of sight with all the
funds he could get his hands on.
"One day a man answering closely
the description we ' had of Barnes
stepped off the train at Los Angeles.
We took him in tow at once, but found
we did not have the bird we were after.
However we managed to hold him
long enough to find out that he was
Frank Steadman, who had become no
torious even at that time as a success
ful jail breaker. He had four or five
escapes from prison in southern Indi-'
ana credited to him, had got away from
Joliet, and had still seven years to do
at the Illinois prison, had also been
at San Quentin, and had escaped from
there with five years unfinished.
"Steadman was a machinist by pro
fession, and a burglar by inclination.
When he was sent back to San Quentin
to finish his time he was put to work
with other convicts in the engine room.
It was here that an idea came into his
brain that for absolute daring and
fearlessness was typical of the man.
He had noticed that every evening at
the time the men working in the en
gine room were lined up to be marched
away, the machinery was stopped at
exactly the same moment. He had
observed as well that a window lead
ing to an adjacent roof was not far
from the top of the big driving belt
of the engine. From that roof it was
possible to reach the outer wall of the
prison. Beyond the wall was free
dom. He had escaped sp mauy times
that his mind reverted again and again
to the window high up on the wall of
the engine room. Apparently it was
beyond all possibility of being reached.
No ladder was to be obtained. Had
such a thing been even standing in
place against the wall, to break from
the line and scale it with catlike dex-
Lterity, although the work of but a few
seconds, he well knew would be futile,
possibly fatal. Bullets travel faster
than legs, and the guards were not
bad shots. But desperate deeds de
mand desperate means. Some minds
may work with an ingenuity born of
despair, but Steadman's was of a dif
ferent calibre. His plaus were the
outgrowth of steadfast optimism. He
never ceased to scheme, as he never
ceased to hope for liberty.
"One day there came to him, as if
by inspiration, the thought that the
big belt might be the meaus of carry
ing him to his goal. He found that it
was impossible to count the revolu
tions of the driving wheel, but there
were lacings in the broad belt, which
he was able to distinguish as a sort of
blur as it passed a given point. 'For
days and days he counted, and in hi?
cell at night he spent' his time in cal
culations. He discovered the exact
number of revolutions the wheel made
per minute. He learned also, by con
stant observation, just how many times
the belt went round after the engine
was shut down.
"One evening, when the line had
been formed as usual at the close of
the day's work, and as the big wheel
began to lose its momemtuiri, suddenly
a convict sprang from the line, leaped
to the belt, with outstretched arms
grappling both edges of the broad
leather. He had calculated well the
etrength that would ba required, for I
fciie temnc wreucs aid not loosen ma
grasp. Outward and upward he swung
until he reached the topmost point of
the circumference. The nicety of hi?
calculation had reaped its reward. The
belt stopped. He leaped to his feet,
sprang through the window, and was
gone before convicts or guards had
recovered from their astonishment.
He caught up a guard's coat and hat,
dropped from the wall and got away io
the dusk of the evening. I am in
clined to believe that as a mathemat
ical proposition that was about as per
fect a piece of work as any man ever
accomplished."
"And did he getaway without recap
ture ?" some one asked.
"No, I am almost sorry to say, ha
did not," answered the Los Angeles
chief, ' 'for that ought by rights to be
the denouement of such a story, which
combines so much of daring and cle
verness. Steadman was taken again
in a short time and put to work at his
old job. There are bars over that
high window above the big drive belt
now.' Not long after this Steadman
cut and nearly killed one of the other
convicts, and is now serving out an
additional sentence, for attempted
murder, at the Folsom prison, which
is situated some twenty-eight milea
from Sacramento."
The Columbus of the Skies.
Lacaille has been justly called the
true Columbus of the southern skies.
Born near Eheims in 1713, and left
destitute at an early age, he was edu
cated at the expense of the Duke of
Bourbon ; having acquired proficiency
in theology, like Laplace, he aban
doned that profession for the study of
science, and by the favor of Cassini
became one of the surveyors of the
coast from Nantes to Bayonne, and in
1730 took part in the remeasurement
of the French arc of the meridian.
The perfection with which this work
was done secured him admission to the
academy of sciences, and a professor
ship at the college Mazarin, where he
worked energetically in a small observ
atory fitted up for determining the
places of the fixed stars. While oc
cupied with this work he became im
pressed with the need of good obser
vations of the stars of the southern
hemisphere. Accordingly he proposed
an expedition to the Cape of Good
Hope, which was officially sanctioned
and carried out with marvelous rapid
ity and success. Landing in April,
1751, at the cape, which was then a
mere signal station for Indian vessels,
he secured a location in the wild coun
try near the great Table mountain, and
in fourteen months had observed the
positions of nearly ten thousand stars
with a degree of precision never be
fore attempted in that region of the
heavens. The great catalogue which
he formed from these observations
was published in 1763, and reprinted
in 1847 by the British Association for
the Advancement of Science, and until
within the last twenty years was the
chief source of our knowledge of
the southern hemisphere. Atlantic
Monthly.
The Panthers of the Philippines.
The Felipinas, which destiny has in
charge, and which, like Cuba and
Puerto Rico, the United may have in
charge also, are the fairylands of
Oceanica, the home of the humming
bird and the firefly. The climate is a
thiug to feed on, the scenery is a
caress to the eye. Barring the wild
cac and the Spaniard, there are no
beasts of prey. The Spaniard came
in the train of Magellan. He had to
fight to do it. The adventure cost
Magellau his life and a vast amount
of jealousy on the part of Portugal. It
was in the neighboring waters that
the two great maritime powers of the
sixteenth century struggled for the
dominion of that new world which
neither the one nor the other was to
rule. The circumstance is notewor
thy in. view of the fact that it was
this hemisphere which bore the brunt
of Spanish violence. Malaysia was
approached more gently. On its shores
there disembarked warriors more pa
cific and priests less inquisitorial. Far
from Castile and continuously threat
ened by Portugal, the Spaniard un
derstood that to gaiu subjects' mercy
was better than might. Iu that part
of the globe he became indulgent. In
every other colouial enterprise he de
veloped into a brute. It is only since
possessions here have vanished that
in the Felipinas the beast of prey ap
peared. In earlier days, apart from
Portugal he had only Chinese pirates
to fear. The latter so bothered one
of the governor generals that lje got
ready to set out and conquer Cathay.
In that epoch the average Don was
fuller of fight than of wisdom. Time
has not changed him in the least.
Collier's Weekly.
Kliiiting Forbidden,
Itas hitherto been the custom of
the (jhildren attending the public
schools iu Austria and Hungary to kiss
the hilnds of their teachers on arrival
aud d
forbid
t artuie. This has now been
leu by a ukase just issued by the
al board of education, which
unpen
bases
ijts decision on a ueeiarauou or
the sa
iitaiv council.
ft l.onk That Way.
VcTi ;1e Where did the appro
priation t" tue ammunition uped by
Dewev com1 from?
McFanglV The sinking funoi I J
guess. Ntiwi Vork Journal. 1
SONC OF KING COAL TO UNCLE SAM
I am the king of strife and calm
Now a whistle and now a moan
I have seized the sceptre and torn "the paint
From the Wind on his bauble throne.
My pipe in his face I boldly puff
Till his rage my soul Inspires,
And I draw him down and his ories I drowi
In the glee of a billion fires 1
Oh, I am king of the land and sea,
King of the field and foam,
Tri k kin .i
King of the hearth and home t
fleir of the lordly limbs and leaves
Now a whistle and now a moan
And my sires, tip-garnered la mammoth;'
sheaves,
On the floors of the world were strowa. ;
Yet, up through the starless roofs I come, '
And the sentry breezes quail;
And the furnaoe glow is the flag I throw
In the teeth of the howling gale!
Oh, I am king of the land and sea,"
King of the field and foam,
King of the mountain, vale and lea.
King of the hearth and home!
Tears for the straining sail and sheet
Now a whistle and now a moan
As the waves ride over the fated fleet
At the whim of the wild Wind blown.
But cheers for the million-muscled oars
That I make from the drops of rain;
For as Coal I am king, and the song I sing
Is a dirge to the fleet of Spain!
Ohj I am king of the land and sea,
King of the field and foam,
King of the mountain, hill and lea,
King of the hearth and home !
Edward F. Burns, in Boston Giobew
HUMOROUS.
The mice always play when the cat's
away, but the cat finally catches on to'
if
Give the average man a positioja,
and he will cast his eyes around or
an assistant. j
She Do you like Wagner's nousic
He Oh, yes, since I have pecoma
i.: 1 1 j j '
"Have you been able to Jfive up to
your ideal?" "No; but ive lived up
to my income trying to do it. "
"Davie, what are microbes?''
"Things nobody can't see that they
blame all their sickness onto."
Teacher Who discovered America?,
Street Gamin (after deep thought) '
I disremuuber his name, but he was
a Dago.
.Yrwi flir M oaid tli nrnaf ''ova a
bad judge of poetry." "I, sir," re
torted the editor, "am a judge of bad
poetry.,;'
Miss Passee I assure you I hav$
lived only eighteen short years. - Ola
Grumpy Where were you the rest of
the time?
When a girl suddenly begins lend
ing her wheel to her little brother she
is getting ready to ask her father for
a new one.
She You don't see as many women;
cyclists wearing bloomers as you used
to. He No. I guess they are afraid
of being enlisted.
She (at parting) Do you love me
better than your life? He (fervently)
Better than my life? Why, I love
you better than my bicycle, almost.
Patient I'm feeling wretched, doc
tor. I take no interest in anything,
have no appetite, can't sleep
Doctor Why don't you marry the
gill?
School Teacher Now, Willie Hig
gins, you may tell me what Commo
dore Dewey did on the 1st of May,
1898. Willie He did the Spauiards,
ma'am.
Artist I painted this picture, sir,
to keep the wolf from the door.
Dealer (after inspecting it) Well,
hang it on the knob where the woli
can see it.
Papa Well, did the photographer
succeed in making the baby look pleas
ant? Mamma No; the baby suc-
ceeded in making the photographer
look unpleasant.
Barton Holden has a good memo
ry. Wharton Good memory? Bad
you mean. He asked me yesterday
when I was goiug to return the fiver
I borrowed last year.
His Wife Do you think the young
The Suburbanite Indeed I do 1
Doesn't he come here every week and
take the chances of getting malaria,
just to see her?
"Professor Deepnob says a widow
receiving a marriage proposal always
reminds him of a cow at a railroad
track." "In what way, pray?" "She
acts as if she wouldn't go across, but
she always does. "
"Did you say you found a large
amount of fighting equipment on that
newspaper man?" asked the Spanish
officer. "Yes, sir. There were enough
lead pencils aud blank paper to have
enabled us to win a half dozen vic
tories.
Giddy Young Thing Do you know
that as Hamlet you reminded me very
much of Booth? Eminent Young
Tragedian Ah,inldeed? Giddy Young
Thing Yes; your costume was almost
exactly like the one he used to wear
when he played the part.
It was just after war had been de
clared, and the quiet man saw the
noisy one sneaking away from an ex
cited crowd. "What's the matter?"
asked the quiet man. "They're dis
cussing the war," replied the noisy
one. "Well, you've been yelling for
war for the last two months, haven't
you?" demanded the quiet man.
"Of course I have," returned the
noisy one, "but, hang it all ! the'Se
people are talking about enlisting."