Democratic Sentinel, Volume 20, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 June 1896 — Page 4

WORTH WINNING

CHAPTER XXIII. Acton did not fina his task with Lady Prendergast nearly so hard a one as he had prepared for. She was not a woman to be obdurate, nor to indulge in personal antipathy or vindictiveness, except when she conceived she was obeying the stern behests of duty. What had ever been prominent in her mind, in her long and obdurate hostility toward Cave Harding, was the harm and disgrace which his courses and associates might bring upon Camilla and the impediment these might prove to settling the girl creditably in life. And now all that was over. Lady Prendergast saw her beloved one fading away like some lovely dissolving view, and knew only too well that it was- a mere race between them to the grave. “Oh, let him come by all means," she had exclaimed, somewhat astonishing Cyril by interrupting his long chain of carefully prepared arguments. “Who knows but seeing him again, forgiven by me, and repentant, Camilla may wish to live for his sake if not for ours." An<J the formerly hard old lady felt, as she said those last words, the old wild jealous revolt within her; but valiantly she subdued the feeling. “And when,” she asked, “would you propose that I receive him?” “Why, the sooner the kinder, both to him and Camilla.” “Shall I ask him here on a visit?” This was so much more than Acton had dreamt of that it almost took away his breath. An intuitive feeling told him that he had better not accept too much all at once. He said: “Oh. Lady Prendergast, there is no measure to your bounty. I never contemplated such extreme goodness. But no, my dear friend Harding has long been accustomed to rough it. There is a spare room at th? rambling old farm where I am staying; let him come down to me there, at any rate for the present. One favor more. I see Camilla coming in. May I be so selfish as to claim the pleasure of imparting to her the news of your generosity? Oh, how she will love you!” jK“By all means, so run along and meet heiyi—He waited for no second bidding, and accosted Camilla upon the lawn, with: ‘ “You see I am an earlier visitor than usual to-day. I have a piece- of news which will startle and delight even you.’’ The girl flushed up, but that meant nothing. She did so now many, many times a day for little or no apparent ’cause. “Delight me?” she said, surprised, yet indifferent. “Your dear grandmamma has asked your father to come and see you here. He begged me to try whether she would consent to an interview, and Lady Prendergast, nobly forgetting all differences, at once expressed a wish that both Mr. Harding and myself should take up our abode here.” The tears rushed to Camilla’s eyes. Knowing her grandmamma as she did, this complete abandonment of the policy of years, this utter yielding up of that iron will, and for love of herself, as she well knew, was to the girl’s mind something ineffably touching. She wanted instantly to take the old lady in her arms, thank heaven that the last barrier between them was broken down, and weep out her thanks upon her bosom. She could now, indeed, love her without reserve. “And you have done this—for me?” she said, giving her hand again to Cyril. It was, of course, his cue to make the most capital he could out of the matter, but his cleverness told him that this was best to be done by modestly affecting to ascribe all merit to others, and deprecating the idea that he deserved excessive thanks. ‘1 merely endeavored,” he said, “to carry out your father's earnest request that he might see, you again on any terms. Lady Prendergast’s own generous heart, and her deep love for you, have done the rest” “It is very well for you to put it in that way; but I am confident—l take nothing from my gran’ma’s goodness in saying that without your zeal, and also your delicate tact, all might have failed. Now do not deny it That is my conviction, and in it I remain forever—mind, for‘"“Andshe laughed with the drops still dancing in her eyes'. off Jibe went to do her other thanksgiving. ■

Acton remained for awhile, sauntering among the flower beds and butterflies. He told himself that he had decidedly “scored,” as he put it. Presently Tie joined the ladies within, and agreed to stay for dinner. The letter sent off that afternoon to the prodigal father, and his coming arrival, formed the staple of conversation among the trio. A gayer tone than usual reigned around, and the hours flew by more pleasantly than they had been wont to do for some time. Cave came down four days later, and having happened to win a few sovereigns the night before, he was in the highest spirits. Acton drove to meet and bring him from the station, and both men came to dinner at Silvermead. Of course there was nothing like a fuss or a scene. The father kissed his child and shook hands with Lady Prendergast as if he had dined with them every day for a month past. His spirits chanced to be up, and so all his alarm about Camilla’s health was forgotten. And the next day they were all together again, and so on every day up till the eve of Monday in Goodwood week. CHAPTER XXIV. Happy and contented as the gambler seemed and even was at Silvermead, the ducal race week had attractions for him which were not to be withstood. He had backed Alcestos for the Gup, to an extent far exceeding what even Acton had any idea of; in fact, Harding, on certain information he had received of a private trial, chose to believe that the horse could not lose. He accordingly looked solely to the chance of his winning, and thus was never tired of taking the odds upon his favorite. And so, with a little circumspection, he managed to make that three hundred pounds stretch and stretch until at the present moment he stood to lose every shilling of four thousand pounds upon that one coup. It was not until the evening before his departure that Acton, being alone with her he loved so cruelly, suddenly startled her from her supposed security. After a short pause in a simple discussion as to the orthodoxy of a recent semi-religious poem, he said, quite coldly: “Xea know, I suppose, that your good *

BY JEAN MIDDLEMIS.

father favors our marriage?” She started; then, the next instant, telling herseV that the question meant no renewal of his suit she said, looking up at his face in the bright moonlight to read what might be there: “Why do you tell me this?" “I thought it only kind to prepare you for what he is sure to say or to write to you. But he will probably speak, for you know he return.-- on Saturday, not to the farm this time, but here, to stay at Silvermead.” “You have told him nothing, then?” “I assure you I have.” “Oh! But he eannot have understood you; my papa is good and loving; he would never coerce me, and now ” “Believe me. I described everything to him in the fullest detail; he has told me often that it will break his heart if you do not change your mind.” “Change my mind! I change now! Oh. he cannot know what he is talking about,” and she laughed bitterly. Then with rudden energy: “I will go to him at once. You shall set*. A few words and all will be settled. I know my own dear father.” “Do not disturb him now. See through the window. He is deep in sixpenny piquet with Lady Prendergast. Surely there is no hurry.” “Oh, no; nothing can make any real difference. It is merely a question of dispelling. a little sooner or later, this foolish hope of papa’s.” “Why foolish?” “Surely you ought to know. Have you so soon forgotten i»y words of the other night? To go over the old ground again is useless. My father has ever been loving and gentle. If yon think he is going to command me now, give up the illusion, for, even were he to do so, I should not dream of obeying him.” To himsjlf Acton said: “We shall see about that!” And they went within doors to find Mr. Harding more jubilant than ever. He had won, and winning with him was alway winning, whatever the amount. Acton , took care to give father and daughter no chance opportunity of a tete-a-tete, and in this the lateness of the hour well seconded him. Camilla woujd not condescend so far as to make a formal demand for one. Her pride told her it was paying Acton, whom she was beginin earnest now, too great Nothing worth recording occurred during the next few days at Silvermead. Acton called on the morning after the scene just described, but only to say he was running up to town on business, and to ask the ladies if they had any commands for Ixindon. He should be back, he thought, on Thursday or Friday. As he drove away an immense relief seemed to come to Camilla, who breathed a secret prayer that he might not return. On Friday, however, at noon, he sent a note over to say he was back at the farm, and asking if he might come to dinner. Of course the answer was “yes,” and he arrived about seven, bringing with him various small purchases which he had been Instructed to make for Lady Prendergast. Neither of the ladies could help noticing the young man’s unusually high spirits. Joy is indeed a more difficult emotion to conceal even than great grief, except, that is, in the first few moments of a terrible sorrow. It happens that to-night Camilla actually sought an occasion for being alone with Acton, but there was nothing in this at all flattering to him. As soon as she found one she said: “Can you by chance tell me bow it has fared with my father at Goodwood? He promised to write and has not done so?” “No, I have seen or heard nothing of him since Monday night. He was off at daybreak next morning.” The girl bent her head pensively as she said, more to herself than to Acton: “Oh, how I do wish he would take to something else!" “Just wnat I have urged a hundred times,” rejoined he brightly. “With his intelligence, for he is clever in almost anything, I am sure he might even now make himself a career,” said his daughter. -“Let us both try and persuade him.” Even in this good work Camilla did not. relish the partnership, but she only said:

“I asked him what race he was most interested in, and which horse he had backed, but he just put me off by declaring it always brought him ill luck to talk about his bets. Still, I should so like to knpw he had not lost. You cannot te‘ll The arrival of a telegram here broke in upon their conversation. “A telegram for Miss Harding.” “From papa,” she said, as she read it. “Ah, he tells me nothing, merely to acquaint gran’ma that hq will be here to breakfast” “Well,” exclaimed Cyril, “you will not have long to wait. I dare say you will be up early to drive and meet him at the station, and so would like to go early to bed. Good-night. I shall walk home across the fields and hope for the best” It was from no wish to spare Camilla that the young man had concealed from her the secret of his high spirits to-night. They had a twofold cause. Firstly, his trusty lawyer had informed him in London that certain awkward inquiries emanating, it was supposed, from Jack Forbes and his medical friend, Sir Ewing Crofton, had at last been successfully diverted upon a false scent Secondly—oh, blissful news—Alcestos had lost the Goodwood Cup. CHAPTER XXV. The very first glance which Camilla caught of her poor father the following morning told a terrible tale. The man who had set forth but so few days before, blithe,, demonair, positively young, looked now a mere wreck. He had left her a sort of Croesus, so thoroughly did he already possess in imagination the expected tffbusands he was to win. He returned a beggar—worse by far than a beggar; a gentleman who had staked upon honor what he did not possess, and, most maddening of all, who had a fair, proud daughter to blush for him. As they drove away to Silvermead he put his arm around her and asked with a smile: “And how is my little pet? Eh? And the old lady at home? Well, I hope, eh?” “Oh, yes, papa, dearest, but what of yourself? You look unhappy! Say, have you lost?” “N-not largely, dearest. If you read my unhappiness, believe me it is because I have not won certain large sums, which upon my honor, 7 wnsidered as good as

[at my banker s. Oh. I wm right! My judgment in racing matiers is well-nigh infallible. Upon my aoul, my darling, it is.” “Well, then?” “A fatality, my dear, one of those things that happen only to me! Alcestoa— that was the horse that carried all my money—was pulling Fordham out of the saddle—full of running, and looked like finishing ah me; when that wretched Jemmy Kite— Jemmy Kite is the lightweight, my darling—why da they allow such children to ride?—the Jockey Club ought to pass a law; however, little Kite—he’s not fourteen, and such an imp you never saw in this world—riding Artillery. Artillery, although a slow brute, is no boy’s horse—well, cannons bang against my animal, nearly knocking him down. I thought we were out of it; but no, in the last few strides he came again, and to show how right all my calculations were, and what pounds we had in hand, Alcestoa was only beat a head.” 'Then you didn't lose much?” “I didn't loss by much, you mean," said poor Handing in his excitement; “but the horse might as well have been beaten out of sight as far as the money goes.” “Of course, of course.' sadly smiled Camilla. "Even I know enough racing to see that” They were now at their little journey's end. Camilla had determined to have a thorough explanation with her father on a certain subject, the very hast opportunity. She now, however, busied herself in waiting upon him at breakfast, coaxing him to get through that meal with what comfort he might and about eleveno'clock invited him to take his cigarette in a certain spacious summer house; and there it was. seated by his side, that she begun what she believed a very few words would bring to a final and satisfactory issue. (To be continued.) , _

On the Installment Plan.

As a Star reporter was ambling merrily along Massachusetts avenue the other morning, in pursuance of his repertorial duties, he was held up by a dil-apidated-looking peripatetic, who proved, ujton inspection, to be an Irishman. He was not exactly a thing of beauty, but there was a Hibernian twinkle to nis eye that seemed as if it might be a joy forever, and the reporter was pleased by its influence. “And what do you want with a nickel. Pat?” he asked, after the Irish gent had stated the object of his call. “Oi sthrained me back worrkin’ ahn the railroad, sor,” said he, “and the dochthor towld me to get a stringthinin' plashter for it, sor.” “A nickel won't buy a strengthening plaster, will it?” "Niver a bit, sor, but Oi have twinty cints already, sor.” - "Well, here’s a Time, and as you have twenty cents, you can give me the change,” Pat had the coin in his fingers just as soon as he possibly could get a clutch on it. “Plaze God, sor, Oi would,” he said, earnestly, “but Oi have paid the twinty clnts on the plashter.” The reporter smiled at the Idea of a druggist selling a plaster on the installment plan. “I suppose, then, you will owe me a nickel?” lie ventured. “Indade, Oi will, sor; a long toime, sor,” and I’at slipped away, leaving only a memory of that peculiar little twinkle of the eye.

Writing Letters on Bricks.

Persian and Chaldean improvements on Egyptian methods of producing and preserving literature were of great value to the literary world of that era, and even this generation has reaped benefits from them. Instead of doing their printing on pyramids and monuments where moth and rust could not corrupt, they engraved their short stories, local paragraphs, billet-doux and correspondence on soft clay bricks, which were afterwards burned, making an extremely durable literature. In this It was much more convenient for the postoffice department, for it was easlet to send them from city to <Mty than tq carry around Cleopatra’s needles. In either case it w’ould be a little unpleasant for our modern letter-carrier about St. Valentine’s day. Epistolary correspondence was apt to be a little slow by this brick process, but a letter once completed, lasted as long as painted china. We can imagine a conversation something like this in those days: “Have you written to your mother lately, Mrs. Dooars?” asks Mrs. Daarjeeling. “Oh, yes,” answers the former, pointing to a row of soft elay cakes on a side table; “I began a letter three weeks ago and It is nearly finished now. Next week I will send -it to be fired, and my mother will be delighted to think that I answered her last letter so soon.”— Washington Pathfinder.

The Queen’s Mistress.

It is said that the one woman of whom Victoria stands in respectful awe is Mrs. Slussens, the housekeeper of Balmoral Castle. She has held her position of power for many years, and rules everybody who comes within her domain with a rod of iron, even to the Queen herself. Her Majesty on cue occasion took a fancy to a certain housemaid and requested that the care of her own apartments should be given to the girl. Mrs. Mussens, however, thought differently, and informed her Majesty that such a mark of preference only turn the young woman’s head and utterly spoil her. The Queen of Great Britain and Ireland, and Empress of India, listened in silence and meekly acquiesced in her housekeeper’s decision.

The Moon’s Shape.

According to the teachings of advanced modern astronomy it is a mistake to suppose that the shape of the moon is similar to that of the earth. It Is believed nowadays that the moon is a perfect ellipse, Its figure being nearly exactly one-third longer than it is broad. The elliptical theory of our satellite’s shape is founded on tlie wellknown fact that a certain side (end, rather) of the moon is always presented to our view. This is caused by the moon revolving once on her axis in exactly the same period of time that she revolves around the earth. Her elongated shape was probably caused by the attraction of the earth when both planets w’ere young and soft Fogs are more frequent in October and November than at any other period of the year, because, besides the evaporation from seas, rivers and lakes, there is a constant exhalation from the ground in the form of vapor. The air pressure on a person of ordinary size is thirteen and a half tons.

TRAINING NAVAL CADETS.

they go to sea on the revenue BARK CHASE. She l» to Spend the Summer on the Baltic. Work and Play of the Cadets While on a Cruise. Somewhat similar to the English method of training midshipmen is that by which Uncle Sam educates his officers for the revenue service* In each case says the Detroit Free Press, the effort is to teach by practical work. The English youths are spread throughout the British navy. The revenue cutter cadets are taught on board the bark Chase, a sailing vessel. The Shase. while being fitted in Baltimore for a trip to the Mediterranean, was visited by the writer a few days ago. She is rather small, but Iteing painted white, looks the prettier for it. Her length is 150 feet, breadth 26 feet, depth 20 feet. But each cadet has plenty of space for his goods. The English middy, on the contrary, practically "lives in his chest.” Few ships have a pleasanter steerage than the Chase. The panellings of quartered oak. with the blue and white of the ceiling, give the room a most cheerful air. The cadets’ rooms are in white, with ceilings covered by canvas painted a dainty blue. At present there are twenty- four cadets on the Chase, though the ten that compose the senior class will soon receive their commissions as third lieutenants, and be replaced by new cadets. The Chase has quarters for but twenty-four cadets. They live in the twelve rooms that line the neat little steerage. But first we must visit the genial Captain Hamlet in his cabin. The commanding officer’s quarters consist of a reception room, dining room, office, two staterooms and bath room. They are finished in cherry, the ceiling being of a lighter color. Plenty of easy sofas and a number of plants made the writer quite forget that ships have a habit of rolling at sea. The ship’s library, well supplied with books, technical and instructive, as well as the dispensary are between the cabin and wardroom. How so small a ship contains so large a wardrobe puzzles the writer. Beside the office of the executive officer there are five state rooms to the wardroom. The wardroom proper is finished in cherry, the whole effect being cheerful and light. Occupying the body of the ship, the steerage extends from wardroom to fo'castle. One descends the companionway to find himself in the center of a room lighted by skylights over two long tables, and flanked on either side by six state rooms. Al the after end of the steerage is an ornamental mantle over a fireplace .in which no fire is ever lighted. Against the forward bulkhead is a piano in quartered oak to match the finishings. Several cadets have assured me that the piano Is easily worth a million dollars, if its value be measured by the pleasure it has given. Cozy is the best word to describe the rooms. All are alike, each accommodating two cadets. The cadets have each a bunk, a luxury by the way, tliat some of the junior officers of the navy that sleep in hammocks might appreciate. Every bit of space, over the bunks, under them, the ends of the rooms, the corners, all is utilized, and turned into ingenious lockers and drawers and clothes closets. The steerage is for two years the home of each class of cadets. Here they sleep, eat, work and play. Over these long tables they recite their lessons. From the half-darkened steerage, with its one swinging lantern, they creep out unwillingly to stand their night watches at sea. And into the same steerage they tumble noisily after a good time ashore or a hop in some foreign port, Here, too, they scribble for commissions during the dreaded final “oceans” that end the course on the Chase.

Forward of the steerage is the fo’castle in which live the petty officers and seamen, thirty-three In number. Below this are the chain lockers and continuing aft, come main hold, water tanks, store rooms and sail rooms. For main battery the Chase has four Hotchkiss three-inch breech-loading rifled guns of the old pattern. The secondary battery consists of one flpounder rapid fire Driggs-Schroeder; on the top gallant forecastle and aft are two one-pounders of the same make. The cadets are drilled quite regularly at these guns. Also during pleasant weather, at sea and in port, the junior cadets are taught the setting up drill and infantry manual. Being constantly exercised in the duties of a sailor during the first year, and having charge of the deck at intervals during the second year, the cadets acquire a practical knowledge of seamanship that is not to lie had by any other method of instruction. At sea, all the cadets are on watch in the day from 8 to 8, and they stand quarter watches at night. The old saw, ‘{practice makes perfect,” is well illustrated by the proficiency shown in seamanship. The severity of the entrance examinations, which require arithmetic, algebra, trigonometry, geometry, history, grammar, physics, chemistry, geography, literature, general information and either French, German or Spanish, insures candidates who may at once be taught those branches required to equip them as officers of the Revenue Cutter Service. The course includes gunnery, seamanship, navigation, signals, revenue law and international law. In port recitations are held five days of the week, study period lasting seven hours per day. The Chase has just returned from a trip to the Bermudas. After a few needful repairs she will sail for the Baltic where summer is to be spent. Later a cruise in the Mediterranean will be taken. The w’inter will probably be spent in the Mediterranean, as the present expectation is to be gone a year.

Sympathy Among Birds.

Once upon a time when Olive Thorne Miller and Florence Merriam, two writers on bird life, were taking notes in Lewis county, New York, the found a widowed redstart and her baby in the wood lot Like all babies, the little

redstart was constantly teasing foe something to eat, and, like most mothers, the redstart was just wearying herself into the grave trying to supply the demand. Then came the kindly hand of a good-hearted and wholly unselfish neighbor to help her. A jolly bachelor of a chestnut sided warbler heard the bay cry and saw the weariness of the overworked mother, and he fluttered his wing at the thought that here was a chance to be courteous to one of the other sex, without any one being able to say that he had an ulterior purpose in the kindly attentions he might give her. Gathering a goodly worm, the bachelor carried it to the baby. At first the poor widow didn’t know about that. She might be without her natural protector, but no meddling stranger need think her unable to take care of herself gnd little one; and she made some pretty harsh remarks to the chestnut-sided warbler. But he, good fellow, did not mind that. He would have taken the baby in his arms and walked up and down to soothe it, had that been the fashion with baby birds; but, as it was, he kept on bringing worms and other things until even pert little Mrs. Redstart was calmed into a peaceful state of mind and, the baby being satisfied, was able to smooth out her much rumpled skirts and attend to the gloss of her beautifully-contrasted breast and arms. It was a most charming little episode in bird society.—The Chautauquan.

A Dog Detective.

Danger, the dog detective of the Lake Shore and Nickel Plate Railroad companies and the terror of tramps and evil-doers, is no more. Danger was the comrade of Special Watchman Leopold Nagoski of the Nickel Plate Railroad, whose shanty stands in the midst of the Lake Shore tracks at Seventeenth street. The dog and his master were crossing the Santa Fe tracks early yesterday morning when a cat ventured in Danger’s path. The dog chased the cat and did not notice an approaching passenger train. He was run over and killed, and every watchman about the railroad yards in the vicinity is in mourning. Danger’s master buried him last night near the shanty, with a coupling pin and link to mark his grave. Danger’s entry into the railroad watchman business occurred about three years ago. Watchman Nagoski rescued him from a crowd of wicked boys who had tied a tin can to his tail and chased him on the tracks at Eighteenth street. The old watchman took the can off the dog’s tail, invited the brute into the shanty, and ever since the dog has been Nagoski’s faithful servant and companion. It is said that Danger was worth a dozen men in ferreting out the tramps and thieves who infest the railroad yards at night, and since Watchman Nagoski found the dog there has not been a car seal broken in the Nickel Plate or Lake Shore yards. Danger lived on the fat of the land, and was the pet of all the dining car chefs about the yards. “Danger was not a pretty beast, but he was a wise one,’’said a crossing man this morning. “He knew more than a great many men do, and he will be badly missed.”—Chicago News.

Miserable Italy.

From a hygienic standpoint, Italy is probably the worst off among all the civilized nations. According to statistics, collected and published by Professor Bodil, who furnishes authentic figures covering the entire Italian monarchy, there are among the 8,254 communities of Italy 1,454 which have water of bad quality or insufficient quantity. More than one-half of all the communities, or 4,877, have no drainage, and refuse matter is simply thrown into the street. The condition of homes are also very bad in Italy, as in no other country of Europe are there so many people living in cellars or basements. In 37,203 tenements situated below ground, more than 100,000 Italians live, eat, and sleep. In 1,700 villages of Italy, bread is not used as food, a mush of corn, called polenta taking its place. Corn being frequently sold in deteriorated condition causes many cases of sellagra, a sickness peculiar to maize-eating people,which annually causes 4,000 deaths in the provinces of Venetia and Lombardy. It is estimated that more than 100,000 cases of dellagra occur annually in these provinces. In 4,965 communities of Italy meat is not eaten, and can only be obtained from near-by towns, since meat is so dear that the poor people of Italy cannot afford it. Three hundred and sixty-six communities have not even a cemetery, their dead being buried in the churches, for they are too poor to purchase ground for burying purposes. Fourteen hundred and thirty-seven villages have no physician, a condition which is simply dreadful, for one-third of the entire area of Italy is subject to malarial fevers during one-half of the year.

Tons of Honey in a Rock.

On Elk Mountain, Susquehanna county, Pennsylvania, a few miles from the Jefferson branch of the Erie Railroad, there is an extraordinary lot of wild honey. The hive is located in a rift, which penetrates the rocks probably to a depth of 160 feet. The orifice is thirty feet long and seventeen feet wide. The rift was discovered to be the abiding place of a huge swarm of bees, which flies in a close column, one foot in diameter. Many persons have tried to get to the honey stored by the bees, but were invariably driven back. One man. three years ago, nearly lost his life in the attempt. Others have built a scaffold, 125 feet high, in the hope of reaching a place whence they vainly tried to run a tube into the hoard of sweets and extract a little. Within four years the bees have added probably not less than fifteen feet of honey to their treasure. It is thought that there are several tons of honey in the rock. A man named Duncan, who lives in a cabin, not far from the spot, each summer obtains from the rock, by the sun’s heat, more than enough for his family. All through that region, the second highest point in Pennsylvania, wild honey is found in cracks of rocks.-r New York Press. Spain has a population of about 20,000,000 people.

THE YOUNG FOLKS. * Qt'Kn LITTI.I Has. There was once a little brown hen, A dear little, queer little ben, Her work was to lay Just one egg every day; Ani she did it, this good little hen. She’d fly up in a tree, and right then, Seated high on a branch, this queer hen, Her egg she would lay, Her one egg every day, This good little, queer little hen. 'Twas a strange thing to do, I must say, Lay an egg from a tree every day. And what good was the egg ? Just tell that, I beg— That fell from a tree in that way? But some people do things just as queer; I know it: I’ve seen it, my dear. They have a gooi thought, But it just comes to naught; From the wrong place they drop it, my dear. There’s a lesson for you and for me From the hen that laid eggs in a tree. If we do a right thing, If a good tho ight we bring, Let’s not choose a wrong place, you and nge.

HOW TIPTOES CARRIED A IJE FTBS. Little Mary and her kitten Tiptoes were very fond of each other, and when Mary had to be sent to her uncle’s, four miles away from home, to attend school, one of the hardest things for her to do was to part with kitty. A few days after she had left home, as she was walking slowly toward school one morning, what should she see in the rpad a few feet from her but Tiptoes, trotting straight toward her uncle’s house. She ran and caught her up in her arms, and laughed and almost cried at the same time. But this was not the strangest part of what Tiptoes did, for kittens often find their way over long distances. When Mary returned from school that night she wrote a letter to her mamma, telling her of the kitten’s adventure, and then °tied the letter with a ribbon around Tiptoes’ neck and told her that she must go back home and carry the letter to mamma. And what do you suppose, for this is a true story ? A few days later Mary received a letter through the mail from mamma, saving that Tiptoes had come home and delivered the letter safely. Now don’t you think that Mary has reason to think Tiptoes a pretty smart cat ? A MUSIC-LOVING RABBIT. Alice was acquiring a habit of whistling while working on the prairie just outside of her sod bouse. She could whistle very sweetly, too, which was something of an excuse for the habit. One day, while in the midst of her whistli ig and picking up corncobs, she happened to glance towards the corn-field that was only a few rods from the house, and was very much amused to discover a jack-rabbit peeping at her from behind a corn-stalk. She stopped her work, and at the same time her whistling, to watch the funnylooking little fellow; and he, just as soon as the whistling had ceased, became terrified at having attracted her attention, and, bounding away, quickly disappeared from view. Alice again began to whistle, merely as an experiment, and presently the long ears pointed at her from behind another corn-stalk. She went oa whistling, and the foolish little animal became so reckless that he hopped from behind the cornstalk into full view. Sae then whistled her sweetest, an I he came a few feet nearer. She suddenly stopped, and after a few moments of dazel indecision, the timid creature began hopping back to the corn-field as fast as he could go. Suddenly, though, she began with some sweet bird notes, and when he heard the whistling again, the little animal stopped on the instant, as though she had transfixed him with a spear. The amused experimenter continued these sweet notes with variations, and the fascinated animal, by degrees, came nearer and nearer until within a few feet of the charmer, and there he sat upon his haunches, literally “all ears,” gazing at the whistler entranced, his long ears sticking straight up in the air, as it he wished to catch every note. Alice kept up the whistling until she was out of breath, and when site stopped the funny little creature again looked dazed, and seemed quite un lecided as to what he should do; then, coming back to his senses, he was seized with a sudden panic, an 1 casting around him a terrified glance, nude long, hesitating leap? for the corn-tield, w tere he dashed into the shelter of the shady stalks and quickly vanished onee more from her sight. After that, whenever Alice felt lonesome and wanted to see the jack-rabbit, all she had to do was to whistle for him; and it was not long before he began to listen for her summons, while he peered cautiously from behind a corn-stalk on the very edge of the field.

SAVED BY HER PET. Little Mary Walsh lived in the country. “I hive the funniest pet for you that ever you saw,” said her papa one evening as she was coming from school. “What can it be?” she wondered. “Come with me to the barn, and you shall see,” sail her papa. The “pet” was in a little box a'l by itself. And what do you suppose it was ? It was a very small pig. “Not a very nice pet after all,” thought Mary the first time she sav it. But she pitied it because it had no mother to care for it. And strange as it may seem, there came a day when piggy saved Mary’s life. I will tell you bow it happened, for I doubt if you could ever guess how a creature so senseless and selfish as piggy could save a little girl’s life. In the first place, every morning before school and every evening after school, Mary would feed piggy, who was very son I of milk. Piggy soon learned to squeal and grunt in great glee when he would spy her coming with her bright little pail. Mary was sure he loved her. But her papa thought piggy was only a glutton, who liked milk better than he liked his kind, young mistress. No matter which was right, it is certain that when he was allowed to run at large, piggy would follow Mary about like a dog, every time she carried a pail. Few pigs were fed so well as piggy. In a few weeks he grew so fat that Air. Chaup, the butcher, wanted to buy him. Mary had never admired Mr. Chaup, and she liked him still less when he called her piggy a hog. Her tears saved piggy’s life. One day Mary went out for blackberries. Of course she carried her pail, and, of course, piggy followed her. He squealed so loudly that Mary had to let him look into the pail to show him there was no milk in it. Even then he did not seem to feel sure that his eyes were telling him the truth. Mary went out into the thicket where

the berries were large and luscious, fit an hour her pail was more than half filled. She came to some very large stones. Beyond these the tempting fruit hung in richer dusters than any she had gathered. She could not c imb over the rocks, but she thought she could go round them, so she began to push aside the bushes. She was so busy that she paid no attention to the warning, “whir-r-r, whir-r-r, whir-r-r-r," which her father had so often cautioned her to beware of. At length she noticed; but alas, not in time to save herself; for a great yellow rattlesnake lay coiled at her very feet Her limbs were paralyzed with fright. She knew its fangs were charged with deadly poison. Dropping her pail to the ground she uttered a single piercing scream. “Snap, snap, whir-r-r-r!” Piggy plunged past her at the very moment the reptile was about to strike its cruel fangs info her flesh. Shake, shake, shake. Behold, piggy, who was greedily devouring Mr. Snake. “Poor, poor piggy,” thought Mary, “be has saved mv life. But he will surely be poisoned." Just then Mary's pipa came running to her. He had heard her cry. “Poor piggy is poisoned,” she said with tearful eyes. ‘ ‘He ate the snake to save my life.” “He will not die. There is nothing in the world which pigs like so well as rattlesnake meat. But I must admit that piggy has saved my little girl’s life.” “He is a real hero,” Mary said. “How he loves me I” “And how he loves snakes!” eaid her papa. “You will never sell him to Mr. Cbaup, will you, papa ?” “No, dear, that I will not. Piggy deserves to die of old age.” “And he is not a hog, is be, papa? That horrid Mr. Chaup talks as if ptgiy were only a common hog, you know ” “Whatever he is, my child, he has proved to-day that it pays to be kind, even to a pig,” said her papa, taking her in his arms and starting for home, while piggy squealed loudly for milk. To this day Mr. ( haup eyes piggy wistfully every time be sees him, but gets no encouragement either from Mary or her papa.

CURING THE RAM OF BUTTING.

He Preferred Women. So Had a Log in Skirts to Experiment Upon. Jim McCue, rancher, politician, philosopher and horse doctor, walked on the ferryboat with a crutch the other day. He also had an arm in a sling and his head bandaged. “What’s the matter, Jim?” inquired two or three acquaintances. “I’ll bet any man in the crowd S2O he can butt harder and longer than any ram or billygoat in the State,” responded dim somewhat irrelevantly. “But I guess I’ve broke him off it.” “You look as if you had been broken some yourself,” suggested one. “Well, to tell the truth, I did get jammed around a little. I’ve been breaking a ram of the butting habit. This ram was raised a pet, and that’s what makes him so sassy. He knows who to tackle, too. He won’t touch a man, because he knows he’d get a fence rail frazzled out over his head; but a woman he will butt clear over into the next pasture. “The other morning this ram jolted a lady friend of mine clear across a field and through a picket fence, and I thought it was about time to clear him of the habit. I put on an old calico dress, tied on an old sunbonnet, and, concealing a sledge hammer under my apron, sauntered down through the field. The minute the ram saw me he dropped all the business he had on hand and came over to have some fun with me. He squared bff, shook his head, and made a run for me. When I stepped to one side to get a good swing at” him, the blamed old dress tripped me and I fell down. I started to get up, but that blamed old ram was behind me, and I turned two somersaults before I hit the ground again. I didn’t stand any chance at all. He just kept lifting me until he got me against the fence, then backed off and hit me another crack, and then another and another, till I thought he’d broken every rib in my body. Finally he jammed me clear through under the bottom rail, and I managed to crawl to the house. But I got even this morning. I had the hired man take a green oak log, dress it up in women’s clothes, and set it to swinging from a limb. That buck lost a horn tho first time he hit it, and it wasn’t long till the second went the same way. When I left him he was meeting it half way every time it swung back at him. and I wouldn’t wonder if he is worn down pretty close to the tail by this time.”

Utilizing an Elk’s Valor.

During the last two or three years wolves have, without doubt, increased considerably in Norway, says the Pall Mall Gazette. Not only have they committed a great deal of damage among domestic animals, bnt in some cases the elk have been so persecuted by them as to be obliged to take refuge among the haunts of men. Last winter in the Shelbo district,near Trondhjem, the remains of several elks were found in the forest, with the tracks of the bloodthirsty brutes showing plentifully in the snow all around, while many more of the big deer must undoubtedly have fallen victims to the ravenous animals. Two men driving a sleigh with sleepers for the railway came across a big elk in sore plight. Three of the pack which had attacked him lay around dead or dying, pierced with his great antlers, while he himself could barely stand. Needless to say, the worthy peasants made the most of the occasion. They killed the unhappy bull, and they claimed and received the government reward for each of the wolves.

Snake-Killing Cats.

The famous cat of ex-Mayor Eby, which goes into the neighboring fields and captures snakes, which he drags into the house for the inspection of the family, has a rival in. the same block. W. L. Powell,, who went trout fishing the other day at Newville and got stuck in the mud, has a cat which has also developed snake-charming propensities. Mrs. Powell was horrified to see a snake two feet long on the kitchen floor the other day, which the family cat had captured in the cellar of their residence. There will be few snakes left at Cottage Ridge if the two cats arc permitted to get in their work unmolested.—Harrisburg (Pa.) Telegraph.