Decatur Democrat, Volume 50, Number 21, Decatur, Adams County, 26 July 1906 — Page 6

OUT of THE i SHADOWS By Fannie Heaslip Lea ICopvrtffht, 1906, bit Ruby Douglas ......... | In the gentle current of Miss Sarah’s? life by far the wildest eddies were Paola’s love affaire. Miss Sarah. had never had a lover herself—she had always been too busy taking care of Paola, who was the younger, sister, a slim, pale creature, with jVlvid eyes and a head that habitually drooped a little as though weighted by its own gold hair and a sense of languorous melancholy. / Beside Miss Sarah’s old time courtesies Paola was as an orchid to a pansy, but underneath the melancholy was a certain irresponsible deviltry, a certain intangible witchery, that brought the most eligible youths of the neighboijjtood in suppliance to her feet and filled Miss Sarah with unceasing wondpt and amazement. Whenever a new victim appeared upon the scene Miss Sarah thrilled with apprehension. As he was friendly, she approved of him; as he was / more conspicuously attentive, she / watched for him; then in gentle perplexity that never vanished with added experience she saw him hover, advance, retreat, hover again and plunge. When the little comedy was played out she took up her knitting with a sigh of relief, opened her volume of* Felicia Hernans at the purple bookmark and prepared to rest before another siege. Paola herself slipped from one emotional cataclysm to another, as the slender moon from cloud to cloud. They veiled her vivid calm for a moment, but she always emerged unfettered on the other £!de. She had been wearing Francis Lockwood’s roses for a month, when Miss Sarah one night, after three gentle calls unanswered, stepped through the long French window on to the moonlit veranda with a crimson scarf in her hand. The June night called for no such guard against its close, sweet warmth, but on the subject of damp and dew Miss Sarah was inflexible. “Paola,” she said anxiously, then, since there was no Paola in all the i Afc i ■,* I ‘ r V. — ’■'law □ vf’ i J « i i( 1 1 SABAH DREW BACK INTO THE SHADE O» THE GREAT OAK. shadow dappled length of the veranda, raised her voice a little and called “Paola, dear!” A mocking bird in the cedar by the gate gurgled a liquid impertinence that ended in a low call to his mate, but the rest was silence. , < Miss Sarah looked across the latfnT then sovrn at her feet. “Paola must have this scarf,” she said to herself sternly, “and I suppose she is sitting on the bench by the Black Prince—the most imprudent chili!” That the Black Prince was a beloved rosebush saved Miss Sarah’s remarks from their apparent impropriety, and, mindful of her steps, she hurried into the path that led to the Black Prince’s domains across the lawn. The moon burned white above her in a cloudless sky, and Miss. Sarah responded delicately to the influence of the hour. A faint fragrant dream, with boyish eyes, called to her as she went slcw-ly down the path, and young faces swam mistily in her memory as if they had drifted there with the smell of the She thought of the night her mother died, another June; of a flowered gown she had worn the day she was sixteen, Os a poem, something about daffodils, or was it roses? ‘“The love that came with the daffodils and went away with the roses’— that was it,” said Miss Sarah, with a little sigh of satisfaction, “only the daffodils come back with the spring and every summer there are roses, so I really don’t see the sense of that. Those love songs are nearly always rathei silly.” She stopped to thrust back the daring sweetness of a yellow banksia. “The garden is very sweet tonight,” said Miss Sarah to herself, “and God walked in the cool of the garden. I wonder was it like this.” She paused on the edge of the Black Prince kingdom, where It lay half in shadow, and lifted her eyes to the moon. •Oh. dear!” said Miss Sarah, almost rion 1. "what a beautiful night it is.” vid -h was Miss Sargh’s way of saying

k Tittle nlgfaer Mtfsped mro the heart .. A. the Black Jjjflnce—Miss Sarah saw that ymmg Lockwofia, as Miss Sarah had also foreseen?* and Paola’s head was thrown back,/and one of Paola’s slim white arpjS lay like a shimmer of moonlight ajong the back of the bench. “Positively inviting rheumatism,” murmured "Miss Sarah miserably. ; ’ She was within a few* feet of them and a call trembled on her lips, when Paola’s own voice stopped her. “Go on,” said Paola in a soft, hurried whisper, and Miss Sarah by some queer instinct drew back into the shade of the great oak behind the bench, fearful lest an incautious movement would betray her, fearful almost of her own breathing, for Miss Sarah was learned in the ways of Paola’s suitors, and it was one of her best learned lessons never to interrupt them. So she drew back and waited, innocent of any desire to eavesdrop. “Go on,” said Paola again, and young Lockwood’s voice came out of the deeper shadow, low and vibrant and rhythmic. Miss Sarah leaned closer instinctively to hear the words; they escaped her at first, then echoed clearer: “Remember how when first we met we stood,Stung With immortal recollections, O fact. Immured beside a fiery sea That leaned down at dead midnight to be kissed! O beauty folded up in forests old, Thou wast the lovely quest of Arthur’s knights; Thy armour glimmered in a gloom of green. Did I not sing to thee in Babylon? Or did we set a sail in Carthage bay? Were thine eyes strange? Did I not know thy. voice? AU ghostly grew the sun, unreal the air Then when we kissed.” The last word quivered sentient on the air, and Miss Sarah trembled with a strange fear of it. Her fingers found the rough bark of the tree and cluhg; she waited, hungered, for the rest, but young Lockwood’s voice broke from the beat of verse into uneven words: “Paola, my beautiful, it is our story.” “It is the story of Paola and Francesca,” said the girl dreamily. “Paola and Francesca — Paola and Francis—what does it matter? ‘Were thine eyes strange? Did I not know thy voice?’ ” Miss Sarah, dizzied and enwrapt by she knew not what roseate mist, saw the white grace of Paola waver and lean to the shadow and heard a few moments of magical silence, the whisper, tender, exultant: “And in the book they read no more that day.” Miss Sarah felt her way back to the path with unnecessary care. If her light footsteps had been the crash of brasses they would not have reached the two by, the Black Prince, but Miss Sarah did not know it. She hurried along between the roses, catching her breath in little gasps as she went, and the wraiths of lost swarmed around her, stinging her to wild, indefinite regret. She passed through the moonlight and up the steps, through the open window, and caught up her neglected knitting with a pathetic desire for things tangible and commonplace. She opened the volume of Felicia Hernans at the pprple .bookmark, but without knowledge of a line. “I never knew what it was like!” she said pitifully to herself. “I wish I had known.” The magic of the moonlit garden swept over her-again, and the music of the lover’s verse murmured in her ears. Miss Sarah trembled with a vague, unhappy longing for the things that she had never known—the things that were the inheritance of Paata, her sister, yet had never been here. Beyond the window the garden lay vast and wonderful beneath the moon, to her a land where life ran in strange currents between banks of enchantedblossoms. , Suddenly and without warning a tear slipped down Miss Sarah’s cheek and splashed upon the purple bookmark. Another followed it and yet another; then Miss Sarah drew herself together shut between the leaves of Felicia poems her one belated vision sot romance. “And in the book they read no more that day,” she said to herself, with a sad little sigh. The she took up her knitting again to wal for Paola. ? A Roland For His Oliver. He was very practical, and in order to have everything fair and square beforehand he said: “You know, darling, I promised my mother that my wife should be a good housekeeper and a domestic woman. Can you make good bread? That is the fundamental principle of all housekeeping.” “Yes; I went into a bakery and learned ho-w to make all kinds of bread.” She added under her breath, “Maybe.” “And can you do your own dressmaking? lam comparatively a poor man, love. and dressmakers’ bills would soon bankrupt me.” “Yes,” she said frankly, “I can make everything I wear, especially bonnets.” “You are a jewel!” he cried, with enthusiasm. “Come to my arms”— “Wait a minute; there’s no hurry,” she said coolly. “It’s my turn to ask a ( few questions. Can you carry up coal ' and light the fire of a morning?” ’ “Why, my love, the servant would do . that” ' “Can you make your coat, trousers and other wearing apparel?” “But that isn’t to the purpose.” ; “Can you build a house, scrub floors, beat carpets, sweep chimneys”— ’ “I am not a professional.” ! “Neither am I. It has taken most of my life to acquire the education and accomplishments that attach you to me. But as soon as I have learned all the professions you speak of I will • send you my card. Au revolt!” And she swept away.—London Tit-Bits. I

COBRA AND MONGOOSE ADEADLY WTS BCTWREN THESE CtttXTUfcfS. Tfce Aettv* Uttle Quadrayed la n. ■®«t Always the Addresser aid la Generally the Victor—European*^la. India Do Not Fear the Cobra. On the very first morning, as the tourist flops down in his long armchair on, say, the,elevated veranda of the Esplanade hotel, Bombay, he will find the inevitable juggler appealing to him with uplifted eyes, accompanied by his bag, his basket and the other paraphernalia of his craft, and, though the mango growing trick may be more mysterious, the fight between the cobra and the mongoose will be more interesting. The inborn mutual hatred between these creatures must be supposed to serve some purpose in the wise economy of nature, and yet would look very strange did we not know that similar aversions exist between other more familiar creatures, and for some reasons not always apparent. Irrespective of the danger of it, why does the mongoose attack the cobra? A live mongoose is said never to touch a dead cobra in the way of food, and the bristly carcass of a mongoose is probably too tough for even the capacious digestion of his natural adversary. We can only account for it, therefore, on the same principle that the best bred game dogs will not touch the flesh of the quarry that they are so fond of hunting. The active little mongoose is almost always the aggressor, for the comparatively awkward cobra, unless he got him asleep, would probably never think of attacking his more nimble opponent, and it is generally the mongoose that is victor in these encounters. Though the cobra rears his head, expands his hood umbrella-like to the utmost and hisses viciously, his dabs at the enemy seem misdirected and aimless, for the wily mongoose suddenly becomes dou ble his natural size by the erection of his tough, bristly coat in away thal seems quite to deceive even the wise serpent as to what may be bristles and what not. It is only just to say fol the cobra,- -though, that if his fang? were not extracted or the poison glands destroyed a successful chance peck would soon finish the mongoose in spite of his activity. The natural animosity is no doubt greatly toned down in the specimens possessed by the jugglers. Familiarity breeds tolerance, if npt contempt, on both sides, so that they must attack one another with less ferocity than in their natural wild condition and must often laugh in their sleeves when the farce is over. I had the good or bad luck to come across many cobras here and there, the most of .which I killed.. Indeed, there is little to fear from a cobra in the open. If you do not attack him he is not likely to attack you unless he takes it into his head that you are going tq tread on the tail qf his coat. It popular delusion that a cobra, after rearing himself, can jump at the enemy; This he is quite unable to do, for the motion of the head is along the arc of a circle of which ttie radius extends from the head to the part of the ser-. pent On one occasion during the war in upper Burma, when.nesting on a small tent .bed qf an eighty pound service tent, I saw a cobra walking stealthily Into my parlor, as the spider would say to the fly, through the open door. I say “walking” advisedly, because serpents do actually walk on the end Os their ribs instead Os wriggling along after the fashion of worms. The presence of this snake naturally created quite a nasty feeling, with such a narrow compass to move about in, but the snake did not get out alive. There are such incredible stories invetited about cobras in India and so extravagant, too, that one hesitates to mention one’s own more modest, though truthful, experiences, as not quite thrilling enough to be placed on record. My own most creepy sensation was at an up country station in India. I had newly arrived there from Burma and was writing at nighttime on one of the usual kinds of writing desks, with drawers on each side and an empty interval below and between, the desk being, as usual, placed against one of the walls olTthe room. I was dressed, moreover, in thin, hot weather clothing, and therefore particularly vulnerable to the bites of snakes. My legs were in the empty space beneath the lid and in the interval between the drawers on either side. But what was it that I suddenly observed creeping round from the end of the table to.my right and going into the hollow almost in touch with my right foot? It was a vile cobra. I could not jump away on account of the position in which I was placed. I at once realized that to move in any way would probably rouse the serpent immediately to rear and strike. " At" any rate, whether it was by calm calculation or that I was too petrified with horror to move, I never did move a muscle till, to my intense relief, the cobra got beyond my feet to the back of the hollow against the wall. Then I moved away with less grace than agility and shouted to my bearer “Boy! Boy!” at the top of my voice, for it is scarcely needful to tell that not even the common or garden bell rope has yet penetrated into the remote Mofossil stations of India, not to speak of the electric press the button variety. Hindoos, as a rule, are not fond of killing snakes, or anything else for that , matter. Indeed, • they look upon the cobra as sacred and worship it in their purblind fashion, especially at the yearly festival of Nag Panchami, or the ‘ feast of anakes, naga being the Hlnl doostanee word for a cobra. At this time, however, one or two of I my servants were Mussulmans, who -

■" - g—led no great regard either for cobras with.. • _ Even the venomous cobra can be |nade a pet of, minus, If one is wise, Sis tangs and glands, and, as for the mongoose, be is one of the most companionable of wild beasts. There is more than one variety of this animal, and they vary in size according to their breed and geographical distribution. One of the most interesting pets I had of this kind was a mongoose that was sent me from the sultan of Lehei, an Arabian district some thirty miles from our outpost on Aden, when I was stationed in that very sultry locality. I thought this Arabian variety was smaller than those I had seen in India. Some people doubt if there can be any recovery from the full bite of a grown cobra. The poisonous bored fangs of this creature work on a kind of hinge and are folded back on the roof of the mouth when the animal Is In repose, but when the epbra prepares to strike the mere mechanism of the upper jaw in opening the mouth, raises these folded fangs. If the fangs then hit the victim straight I fancy recovery must be very rare. But there is not always a full complement of poison in the glands at the root of the fangs, and every successive strike makes the quantity less for the time being. Again, the dress may catch up the greater portion of the virus before the skin is reached, and lastly the fangs may not strike straight, and then they are easily doubled up on account of the joint spoken of, so that in such Instances the front or outer portion of the fangs may graze the ikin with perhaps no poison at all. I remember a strange thing happening once regarding the bite of a snake. In a certain part of Baluchistan a detachment was In search of a new site for a temporary cantonment in place of the undersirable one we then had, Thull Chotiali. On our first camping ground we were seated at dinner inside the mess tent, when a sudden cry was raised that one of the camp followers had been bitten by a snake almost immediately outside the tent. The medical officer of the detachment, with the knife he was at the time holding In his hand, rushed out at once. The wound Was plain enough on the man’s bare leg. ; » He had been, native fashion, squatting on the ground, and had been bitten on the outskje fleshy portion of the leg a few inches above the ankle. The major at once made a slash on each side above and below the wound and cut a V shaped fid out of the poor man’s leg within a few seconds of’the cry being raised. As we had only gone some dozen miles away from our previous beadquarters and as the detachment was going on still farther the man was sent In next momifig in a dhoolie to the hospital, where he lay very ill for some time, but eventually recovered to a certain degree. As it was nighttime and the other natives got flurried'the snake unfortunately escaped In the dark, so I have always wondered Whether It was a cobra and if the prompt excision saved the camp follower’s life. Considering that over 20,000—think of it—human lives Are annually , lost in Indlq froffi’ wild beasts, a very great portion of which -fe. from venomous snakes, it is at first surprising to see the almost complete immunity of Eurppeafis froiq snake bites in that counH/inust be borne in inliid, however, that there is only a mere hanflful (120,000 or so) of Europeans In India altogether, -as against Hie vast number of natives, Wproaching the stupendous figures of 300,000,000. The natives, moreover, grope about in the dark and roam the Jungles with bare feet and often bare everything else, a condition of affairs that leaves them particularly exposed to the bites of snakes. Be this as it may, It is seldom one bears of a death from snake bite aniong the European portion of the Indian population.—Chambers’ Journal. / The Kral Aaatralla. To Patch the true spirit of Australia one must pass beyond the metropolitan eftiqs, which are but the gates of the continent and where life is not strikingly dissimilar to that In many other places inhabited by the same race, except that democracy supreme has rendered it more care free. The Australian, who Is a great lover of sport and outdoor life, sees to it that overwork does not deprive him of either. That, perhaps, is the reason why he is robust in physique and does not give one the impression of being subject to nervous' diArder. In a general way it may be said that the agricultural part of the country forms a belt around the coast, broader by some hundreds of miles in the east than the west. From this region in good years many million bushels of wheat of the best quality are shipped to England. Then you enter the domain of forest and plain whence comes the wool, of which the clip in a year has reached a value of $15,000,000 for the single coiony nf Queensland.— Four Track News. Tea Leaves Used Again. “There are some men,” said a health officer, “who buy from hotels all their used tea leaves. These they dry and put on the market again as fresh tea. As a matter of fact, there is still a good deal of strong tea—plus a good deal of tannin—in these used leaves. They make as black and bitter a brew as the greatest tea fiend would want to drink, but such a brew is unwholesome. for the percentage of tannin In it is much larger than in an ordinary cup of tea. Used tea leaves are easily made to resemble fresh ones. They are 'dried on hot iron plates, the heat Os which curls them up nicely,‘giving them a natural appearance. A cup of this second table tea refreshes you tremendously, but afterward your mouth is drawn up as If you had been suck* AS alum.”—Philadelphia Bulletin. ' \ * ■■ ■■■ •" /SMS*/'. J

BW- - " H I* EnglgmJ were clothed iq leather, fl good pair es leather breeches was said to pass from father to son as an heirloom. Then a boy went to school as well protected as an armored cruiser. The author of “Dldisburye in the ’45” offers some observations upon these artfeies of common wear: Tfie test of a good pair was to try if they would staqd upright of themselves when nobody was in them. If they would do so they were good, strong stuff and likely to last for many years. My father remembered a prentice lad coming to his father, whose fond mother had provided him with such a pair, and they were the means of a “vast of fun” in a game that is unknown in these days—that Is, for the boys to set the breecljps upright and then jump Into them without touching them with the hands. It was probably a pair of such leather breeches that the Windsor boy was wearing when George 111. asked him if he did not know that the man before him was the king. “Yes,” said the boy. “Then why don’t you go on your knees, and yop might kiss the king’s hand.” said the king. “Because I’d spoil my breeches.” Queer Names. There are some queer nooks and corners in the state of Maine, and many of the titles of the smaller towns and localities are worthy of special mention. Near Otisfield is Pugleyville, while Hog valley Js a certain picturesque retreat located near Raymond. Dog Corner, Hencoop cove, is a well known place in Winthrop, while out on the Coo|p roa<J strange things have sometimes happened. A mile long is Pin Hole hill, the steepest ever, and all the way up are little rests “to hang the pins on,” people say. Over Poland way is the hunger inspiring name of Beeftown, while highly suggestive of negligee was the old name of Saccarappa. .One does not have to die to pass through Purgatory, and some of the most prominent men in the state have hailed from this sinful region. Neither are the gates of Eden closed to all mortals, but nowadays one journeys via an ancient toll bridge that leads the traveler straight to this enchanted land.—Lewiston (Me.) Journal. The Flrat Armored Ship. According to the best authorities on curiosities of the navy and warfare in general, the first armored vessel was launched in the year 1530. It was one of the fleet manned by the Knights of St John and was entirely covered with sheets. oGIeW The accounts of the times leave us in. darkness as'to'the thickness of this lead armor, but they are very positive in the statement that they were of sufficient strength to “successfully resist ail the ehots of that' day4’ At the siege of Gibraltar in 1782 the French and Spaniards used war vessels which were armored with “light iron boom proofing over their decks and to the water’s edge.” ’The very first .practical use of wrought iron plates as/a defense for the sides pf vessels was by the French in the Crimean war in 1853. Jumpers of the Sea. Many of fbe inhabitants of "the sea are good jumpers and some have become famous. Among them sbopld be mentioned the tarpon or sliver king, a huge fish with scales that gleam like silver. In the Pacific waters the tuna, >an ally of the horse mackerel, is noted for its maps. Sometimes a school sweeps up the coast, and the powerful fish, often weighing'Boo pounds, ate seen in the air in every direction. They dart like an arrow, turn gracefully five or six feet in the air and ebme dolfn, keeping the water for acres in a foam, arid, if not the greatest, they-ate certainly the most graceful of the jumpers of the sea. The Whirling of a Bullet. Bullets from the thirty caliber rifles of the United States army. (Whirl with great rapidity. The rifling gives one revolution of "the bullet about its axis in ten inches. At the muzzle the velocity of the bullet is 2,300 feet,» second, which means 2,700 turns a second, assuming that the bullet does not strip In the rifling. The circumference of the billet is .942 inch, Which gives a peripheral velocity of 2,600 inches each second, or 13,000 feet a minute. The Solation. The bankruptcy court can boast some delightfully naive rejoinders. “How, sir, is It possible?’ angrily demanded the opposing counsel of the bankrupt, “to live in the luxurious style you have affected on S2OO a year?” The witness replied, with an air of’Justifiable pride, that that “was a problem to which he had devoted considerable time in the Interests of social economy,’and the results of his humble efforts were now before the court.” Suggeative. “Gee whiz!” said George for the twentieth time.' “It makes me mad every time I think of the $lO I lost today. I actually feel as if I’d like to have somebody kick me.” f “By the way, George.” said the dear girl dreamily, “don’t you think you’d better speak to father this evening?”— Philadelphia Press. I Suspicion*. “Some men are so suspicious," said “that if they went into the organ grinding business they would compel all the monkeys to carry little cash registers.”—Philadelphia Bulletin. Happens Sometime*. ▲ man and wife shouldn’t take themselves too seriously. There’s such a thing as falling out by sheer force of gravity.—Puck. Gilding the whistle will not raise the Meam.

A Perfect Firing MMMM. these following along la th* wilte a steamer, but had never before had such chances with a camera. Often they poise, resting apparently mttoaless on outstretched wing. It is a difficult feat A small bird can’t do It. A sparrow only poise by the rapid beating of his wiiigs. ’lbe gutls ® eeem to hang perfectly still, yet there is never an instant when the wings and. tail are not constantly adjusted to meet the different air currents. Just a# in shooting the rapids in a canoe, the paddle must be adjusted every moment to meet the different eddies, currents and whirlpools, and it is never the same in two different Instants. A gull by the perfect adjustment of its body, without a single flap of the wings, makes headway straight in the teeth of the wind. I saw one retain a perfect equilibrium in a stiff breeze, and at the same time reach forward and scratch his ear.—Ainerican Magazine. Kaffir Woman’! Courage. One of the first explorers of the interior of South Africa was William Cotton Oswell, a noted hunter and a friend of Livingstone, to whom he rendered important aid. In his biography the following story Is given from one of his African letters: An incident highly creditable to Kaffir womanhood occurred „ast as we reached Mabotse. The women, as is their custom, were working in the fields, for they hoe and the men sew. A young man, standing by the edge of the bush, was chatting ' with them. A lioness sprang on him and was carrying him off. when sone of the women ran after her, caught her by the tail and was dragged for some little distance. Hampered by the man in her mouth and tbe woman behind her, she slackened her pace, whereupon her assailant straddled over her back and hit her across tbe nose and head with a heavy short ha'hdled hoe until she dropped her prey and slunk to cover. The Conductor’s Mistake. A conductor on the St. Louis and Suburban railroad had such a good run of business Sunday afternoon that he had difficulty in keeping himself supplied with small change. Many passengers who patronized his car handed him dollars and bills of larger denominations in payment of their fares. lirecopductor, however, managed tQ along fairly well until a woman carrying a tiny Infant boarded his car. When he approached the woman for her fare she handed him a five dollar bllL “Is that the smallest you have, madam?” queried the conductor, fearing ariother stringency in change. The woman looked at the conductor and then at her baby and made this surprising reply, “Yes; I have be£n married only tw:elve months.7 —St . Louis Globe-Democrat Men, Women and Fact. Tact has always been considered the peculiar attribute of woman”' “With a woman’s tact,” is one of the stock phrases of the novelist. But a writer in one of the American magazlne»rgnd his view is Upheld by an English, magazine which quotes him—this tradition, by declaring ’ that nun are more often tactful than worriep. Men, It is submitted, are swift to know when to speak gnd speak—when it is wise to wlmhora even a look—and that is why a mediocre man Will succeed wttep clever woman will fail, why men are greater Ip dlptaKtecy, tn alt 'thfißrsflhA require finesse. ' Btiil -|t a question . whether men really succeed better lu diplomacy. What about the wotnan who is the “power behind the throne?” How the Dotty Wai Named. Os all the flowers of the field the daisy is the most appropriately named. Probably not one person in a hundred understands the significance of this, little flower. Hundreds and hundreds . of years ago it got its te all parts of the wotlcf the .name means the same thing. The nature lover who named the daisy had In his study of the wild flower observed that It opened Its' eye 'frith the opening of the day and closed.it with the setting of the sun. So with'iHe staiptieity of the true autist he called It the eye of the -day,the eye or, as we spell It today, the daisy. —New York Press. Regular Oatrichea. “This, ladies and gentlemen,” said the guide, “is a real theatrical chop house. You will notice the signs on the wall. ‘Watch your hat’ and ‘Keep an eye on your umbrella.’ ” “Great gooseberries?’ exclaimed the old farmer ii» the party. “I often heard tell that these here actor folks were half starved, but I didn’t think they would eat hats and umbrellas.”—Chicago News. Costly, but LastinK. Johnny—What! Only married a year and yet you are so downcast? Wally— Ah, my dear fellow. I never imagined that a’wife would prove such a costly article. Johnny—Yes, a wife is a costly article, that’s true, but then you must remember that she lasts a man a precious long time. Perfection. Briggs—You cftil On “the Dimpletons very often. What sort of children have they? Griggs-Perfect! Best in the World. Briggs—Tell me about them. What are they like? Griggs—Oh,. Pre never seen them.—Brooklyn Life. Good .Policy. Teacher—Johnny, do you love your / enemies ? Johnny — Yes*m — wbOn y meet ’em alt at once!—Detroit New/ Tribune. ' . / ,_r ,/ r 7‘- ' Man 4s the only animal that nothing, that can learn sut being taught.—Plinyv-— JL A Vr