Pike County Democrat, Volume 26, Number 23, Petersburg, Pike County, 18 October 1895 — Page 7

€btgifet6i>ttntg§ra0ttat X. MoO. 8TOOP8, Editor sad Proprietor.' PETERSBURG. - - • INDIANA. .WEIRD JERSEY LIGHTNING. It Shows What Astoundirgr Tiling's It Can Do. SlMtrinN Austin Emmons, and Close Its Performance with a Disastrous Catch*as-l'at«*h-Cau Contest with a Bucking Kano.

HERE mast fee something' in tne New Jersey soil peculiarly attractive to lightning. In other regions a thunderstorm, i f

■very severe, damages a ouuamg or «.wu or possibly kills a man with a direct bolt. In New Jersey it doesn’t act that way. Some peculiar and weird manifestation invariably characterizes a storm there. If a man is killed by a bolt there are a dozen witnesses to tell how he was wrapped in a spiral of flame and spun round till he fell dead. When a house is struck the lightning disdains to do anything as commonplace as merely to rip off the roof? or set fire to the building It usually slides down the building, cavorts round the room, destroying any household pets that get in its way, *ml ends by wiping the ornaments off the mantelpiece and branding the date of its arrival on the face of the clock. Its latest wonder of this kind occurred a few nights ago on Austin Emmons’ farm, near Hacklebarney, in Chester township. Mr. Emmons possesses as fine a three-hundred-acre-farm as there is in New Jersey. In his big field just back of the house he « keeps seventy five sheep, which at night gather under a spreading cherry tree at one end of the field. As the sheep are valuable he has them all insured against death by accident—accident in this case having reference chiefly to lightning, as that is the commonest form of accidental death to animals in that part of New Jersey. In his farming experience Mr. Emmons has lost many fine cattle and sheep from this cause, but none under such strange circumstances as this last time. It was about three o’clock in the morning when the storm came. Mr. Emmons was aroused by a tremendous flash, followed by a great hissing noise. “There goes another brook, dried up by one of those confounded flashes,” he grumbled. “If this keeps on there won’t be anything but steam left for the cattle to drink.” Then he carefully adjusted the glass casters on his non-conductor bed, saw that the rubber blocks were placed under them, and, wrapping himself up in . his feather quilt, turned over to sleep again. But he could not go to sleep. There was too much electricity in the air. It tingled in his every nerve and made his muscles jump convulsively. Everything in the room was affected. •On the washstand the water pitcher and the tooth mug were spitting fire at each other, and a flickering halo, of jagged llaine played round the bureau -mirror. Unable to endure this longer, Mr. Emmons jumped out of bed. In putting on his shoes he sat down on a flash* of electricity that lifted him nearly to the ceiling. Meanwhile outside occasional flashes of dead blackness could be perceived as the vivid glare subsided momentarily, white so great was the concussion of the booming thunder that the clapboards flapped loosely against the sides of the house. “Great Scott! this is pretty tough,” .exclaimed the farmer. “I’ll bet all the .cream is turned sour. Wonder what time it is.” In order to find out he opened his watch, which, to his extreme disgust, emitted two ‘brilliant flashes and stopped short. Downstairs he hurried, eurrounded by little telegraphic dots

LIFTED HIM NEARLY TO THE CEILING. And dashes of brilliancy, until he reached the parlor. There he struck a -match on the wall, and the wall immediately struck back, sending the match flying through the air. At- * tempts at making light were superfluous, however, as there was a regular electric light plant all over the place. In the glow the clock stood out conspicuous, but it had little information to impart, because its hands were revolving backward at a speed of about a mile a minute. All the metal ornaments in the room had glued .themselves tightly to the grate, and the tongs, andirons and other implements, gathered in a }mad embrace, were jigging spasmodically round the room. Now, Mr. Emmons is used to thunderstorms, but this worried him a little. Instead of abating, the storm seemed to be getting worse and worse. At every shock of thunder the house rocked and swayed as if an earthquake were juggling with it The farmer .-stepped to the door just in time to see a playful fork of light go through his met apple tree, stripping off all the

tipples and leaves, bat leaving intaet t he branches, the baldest thing in the township. A tremendous outburst followed. and then, in a lull, the bleating of the terrified sheep was heard. Mr. Emmons ran down to the field, but was knocked heels over head bj the concussion of the thunder. When he got up he saw a huge blade of fire playing round the cherry tree, under which twenty dead sheep were stretched out. Two groups, one of about ten, the other numbering about thirty, were scurrying across the field, bleating in terror. The great blade of lightning flashed over the field northward and killed all of the smaller group, after which it burned the fence to ashes and sent forth a report like the explosion of a battery. Ita fragments merged into a ball of fire about a foot in diameter, which circled easily round the edge of the pasture, consuming the fence as it went It was nearing the surviving group of sheep, which was led by a big, wise old ram with considerable strategy in his brains. Seeing the ball approaching, the ram bleated in command, and the sheep followed him to the center of the field, where they huddled together. Slowly the electric sphere went on consuming the fence. This done, it rolled across the field toward the group of sheep. The old ram awaited it with lowered head, bravely sounding his challenge a few feet in front of the group under his protection. Three little lambs, on seeing the lightning approach, broke away from the group and ran to one side. Instantly the ball went rolling and bounding after them. One after another it touched very gently, as if in a game of tag, and one after another they fell. The ball made a wide detour and again approached the group Aa it circled, the old ram changed his position, keeping his face toward the enemy. It advanced, and he stood ready to the charge. Then it feinted toward the left and tried toget through on the other side, but the ram’s generalship was too good, and the fire ball, but for a swift rise into the air, would have come into collision with that formidable front The next move of the attacking force was to circle round and round with great rapidity and in narrowing circles, the protector

•> * v iV*. . A TERRIFIC EXPLOSION FOLLOWED. of the flock following every move. Suddenly it shot forward. The ram sharped and met it halt way. A terrific explosion followed, and the air was fpll of fire needles. The flock broke and ran, but the danger was over, for the fragments of the broken ball had darted into the earth, tearing it up for yards round. Half blinded and wholly dazed by the wonders he had seen, Mr. Emmons staggered back into the house. Next morning he found about forty dead sheep in the field. Under the cherry tree great furrows had been plowed in the ground, and for 100 yards round ^Jt every growing thing, from the cherry tree to the budding golden rod t^xat lined the fence, was withered and dead. All that could be found of the old ram was his horns, so twisted that tv*’ iarmer ia going to have them set in t Ivfer for corkscrews. Mr. Emmons collected insurance on his sheep, but the damage to his house is a dead loss. His watch has not gone since, and hia parlor clock, while its retrograde speed has decreased, steadfastly refused to go in the proper direction. Upon every recurrence of the hour of the storm it strikes with the speed of an alarm bell and the force of an anvil. From other places in the region come accounts of the damage done by the "storm, hut no other farm suffered as did Mr. Emmons’. The only other experience resembling his is that of Eph Fayk man, who, while coming home late was overtaken by the storm. A bolt of lightning passed so near him that it shaved his left cheek clean, and he has not been able to grow h%ir on it since.—N. Y. Sun.

Next Tim*. At the trial of the oelebrat ed Theodore Parker for complicity in the attempt to rescue Anthony Burns, the fugitive slave, an amusing little incident occurred. Mr. Hallett, who was district attorney at the time, drew up the indictment under which Theodore Parker and several others were brought to trial. The indictment proved defective, and Mr. Hallett was greatly irritated at the consequent dismissed of the case by Judge Curtis. As Mr. Parker turned to leave the courtroom, he encountered Mr. Hallett, who said to him in a very gruff voice: “Well* Mr. Parker, you have crept through a knot hole this time!” To which Mr. Parker returned, in a voice much gruffer than Mr. Hallett could possibly make his: “I will knock a bigger hole next time!” It is said that Mr. Parker’s ordinary manner was unusually gentle, and his voice almost as soft as a woman’s. No man was better able than he to encounter and put down the arrogance of those engaged in the slavery propaganda of that day when I an opportunity offered.—Youth’s Companion. —American pine when green weigh* forty-four pounds twelve ounces to the eubic foot. When seasoned its weight is reduced to thirty pounds eleven ouneen

.-. .... TALMAGE’S SERMON. The Story of Abraham and Isaac Graphically Told. Umom From the FatHark'i Sublime iMt Of faith—Christ’* Suffering* mid Death the Prototype of the • Mount Moriah Incident. Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage selects for the theune of this week’s sermon the supreme test of Abraham’s faith*, basing it on the text: Behold the Are and the wood; but where is the lamb. —Genesis xxti.. ?. . Here are Abraham and Isaac; the one a kind, old, gracious, affectionate father; the other a brave, obedient, religious son. From his bronzed appearance you can tell that this son has been much in the fields, fcnd from his shaggy dress you know that he has been watching the herds. The mountain air has painted his cheek rubicund. lie is twenty, or twenty-five, or, as some suppose, thirty-three years of age; nevertheless a boy, considering the length of life to which people lived in those times, and the fact that a son never is anything but a boy to a father. I remember that my father used to come into the house when the children were home on some festal occasion, aud say: “Where are the boys?” although “the boys” were twenty - five and thirty, and thirty-five years of age. So this Isaac is obly a boy to Abraham, and his father’s heart is in him. It is Isaac here and Is&ac there. If there is any festivity around the father’s tent, Isaac must enjoy it. It is Isaac’s walk, and Isaac’s apparel, and Isaac’s manners, and Isaac’s prospects, and Isaac's prosperity. The father’s heartstrings are all wrapped around that boy, and wrapped again, until nine-tenths of the old man’s life is in Isaac. I can just imagine how lovingly and proudly he looked at his only son.

Well, the dear old man had borne a great deal of trouble, and it had left its mark upon him. In hieroglypics of wrinkle the story was writteu from forehead to chin. But now his trouble seems all gone, and we are glad that he is very soon to rest forever. If the old man shall get decrepit, Isaac is strong enough to wait on him. II the father get dim of eyesight, Isaac will lead him by the hand. If the father become destitute, Isaac will earn him bread. llow glad we are that the ship that has been in such a stormy sea, is coming at last in* to the harbor. Are you not rejoiced that glorious old Abraham is through with his troubles? No! no! - A thunderbolt! From that clear eastern sky there,drops into that father’s tent a voice with an announcement enough to turn black hair white, and to stun the patriarch into instant annihilation God said: ‘‘Abraham!” The old man answered: “Here I am.” God said to him: “Take thy son, thy only son, Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering.” In other words, slay him; cut his body into fragments; put the fragments on the wood; set fire to the wood and let Isaac’s body be consumed to ashes. “Cannibalism! Murder,” says some one. “Not so,” said Abraham. I hear him soliloquize: “Here is the boy on whom I have depended! Oh, how I loved him! He was given in answer to prayer, and now must I surrender him? O Isaac, my son! Isaac, how shall I part with you? But then it is always safer to do as God asks me to; 1 have been in dark places before, and God got me out. I will implicitly do as God has told me, although it is very dark. I can’t see my way, but I know God makes no mistakes, and to Him I commit myself&ndmy darling son.” Early in the morning there is a stir around Abraham’s tent. A beast of burden is fed and saddled- Abraham makes no disclosure of the awful secret. At the break of day he says: “Come, come, Isaac, get up! We are going off on a two or three day’s’ journey.” I hear the ax hewing and splitting amid the wood until the sticks are made the right length and the right thickness, and then they are fastened on the beast of burden. They, pass on—there are four of them— Abraham, the father; Isaac, the son; and two servants. Going along the road, I see Isaac looking up into his father’s face, and saying: “Father, what is the uiaiter? Are you not well! Has anything happened? Are you tired? Lean on my arm.” Then, turning around to the servants, the son says: “Ah! father is getting old, and he has had trouble enough in other days to kill him.” The third morning has come, and it is the day of the tragedy. The two servants are left with the beast of burden, while Abraham and his son Isaac, as was the custom of good people in those times, went up on the hill to sacrifice to the Lord. The wood is taken off the beasts’ back, and put on Isaac’s back. Abraham has in one hand a pan of coals or a lamp, a nd in the other a sharp, keen knife. Here are all the appliances for sacrifice, you

say. uo, mere is wue uuuk nauiiug. there is no victim—no pigeon. or heifer, or lamb. Isaac, not knowing that he is to be the victim, looks up into his father’s face, and asks a question which must have cut the old man to the bone, “My father!” The father said, “My son, Isaac, here I am.” The son said, “Behold the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb?” The father’s lip quivered and his heart fainted,and his knees knocked together and his entire body, mind and soul shivered in sickehing anguish as he struggles to gain equipoise; for he does not want to break down. And then he looks iuto his son’s face, with a thousand rushing tendernesses, and says, “My son, God will provide himself a lamb.” The twain are now at the foot of the hill, the place which is to be famous for a most transcendent occurrence. They gather some stones out of the field, and build an altar of three or four feet high. Then they take this

wood off Isaac's back and sprinkle It over the stones, so as to hel |> and invite the flames. The altar is done—it is all done. Isaac has helped to build it. With his father he has discussed whether the top of the table is even, and whether the wood is properly prepared. Then there is a pause. The son looks around to see if there is not some living animal that can be caught and butchered for the offering. Abraham tries to choke down his fatherly feelings and suppress his grief, in order that he may break to bis son the terrific news that he is to be the victim. Ah! Isaac never looked more beauti- j ful than on tliat day to his father. As j the old man ran his emaciated fingers | through his son's hair he said to him- j self: "How shall I give him up? What j will his mother say when 1 come back j without my boy? I thought he would 1 have been the comfort of my declining j years. I thought he would have been j the hope of ages to come. Beautiful 1 and loving, and yet to die under my ! own hand. Oh, God! is there not some j other sacrifice that will do? Take my life and spare his! Pour out my blood | and save Isaac for his mother and the j world!" But this was an inward strug- > gle. The father controls his feelings I and looks into his son’s face and saj-s: | "Isaac, must I tell you all?" Uis son said, "Yes, father, 1 thought you had { something on your mind; tell it." The j father said, "My son, Isaac, thou art ; the lamb!” "Oh,” you say, why didn't 1 that young man. if he was twenty or i thirty years of age, smite into the dust his infirm father? He could have done it.” Ah! Isaac knew by this time that the scene was typical of a Messiah who was to come, and so he made no struggle. They fell on each other's neck and wailed out the parting. Awful and matchless scene of the wilderness. The rocks echo back the breaking of their hearts. The cry, “My son! my son!" The answer. "My father! my father!”

no not compare tnis, as some people hare, to Agamemnon, Trillin? to offer up his daughter, Iphigenia, to please the gods. There is nothing comparable to this wonderful obedience to the true God. You know that victims for sacrifice were always bound, so that they might not struggle away. Rawlings, the martyr, when he was dying for Christ’s sake, said to the blacksmith who held the manacles: ’’Fasten those chains tight, now, for my flesh may struggle mightily.” So Isaac’s arms are fastened, his feet are tied. The old man. rallying all his strength, lifts him on to a pile of wood. Fastening a thong on ‘ one side of the altar, he makes it span the body of Isaac, and fastens the thong at the other side the altar, and another thong, and another thong. There is the lamp flickering in the wind, ready to be put under the brushwood of the altar. There is the knife, sharp and keen. Abraham—struggling with his mortal feelings on the one side, and the commands of God on the other—takes that knife, rubs the flat of it on the palm of his hand, cries to God for help, comes up to the side of the altar, puts a parting kiss on the brow of his boy, takes a message from him for mother and home, and then, lifting the glittering weapon for the plunge of the deathstroke—his muscles knitting for the work—the hand begins to descend. It falls! Not on the heart of Isaac, but on the arm of God, who arrests the stroke, making the wilderness quake with the cry: “Abraham! Abraham! lay not thy hand upon* the lad, cor do him any harm.” What is this sound back in the woods! It is a crackling as of tree brauches, a bleating and a struggle. Go, Abraham, and see what it is. Oh, it was a ram, that, going through the woods, lias its crooked horns fastened and entangled ra the brushwood, and could not get loose; and Abraham siezes it gladly, and quickly unlooseus Isaac from the altar, puts the ram on in his place, sets the lamp under the brushwood of the altar, and as the dense smoke of the sacrifice begins to rise, the blood rolls down the sides of the altar, the drops hissing into the fire, and I hear the words: "llehold the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” Well, what are you going to get out of this? There is an aged minister of the Gospel. He says: ”1 should get out of it that when God tells you to do a thing, whether it seems reasonable to you are not, go ahead and do it.” Here Abraham couldn’t have been mistaken. God didn’t speak so indistinctly that it was not certain whether He called Sarah, or Abimeleeh, or somebody else; but with divine articulation, divine intonation, divine emphasis. He said: ‘Abraham!’ Abraham rushed blindlj’ ahead to do his duty, knowing that things would come out right. Likewise do so yourselves. There is a mystery of your life. There is some burden you have to carry. You don’t know why God has put it on you. There is some persecution, some trial, and you don’t know why God allows it. There is a work for you to do, and you have not enough grace, you think, to do it. Do

as a uniuoui uui. »uu uv your whole duty. Be willing to give up Isaac, and perhaps you will not have to give up anything. “Jehovahjireh’—the Lord will provide.” A capital lesson this old minister gives us. Out yonder, in this house, is an aged woman; the light of heaven in her face, she is half way through the door; she has her hand on the pearl of the gate. Mother, what would you get out of this subject? “Oh.” she says, “I would learn that it is in the last pinch that God comes to the relief. You see the altar was ready and Isaac was fastened on it, and the knife was lifted; and just at the last moment God broke in and stopped proceedings. So it has been in my life of seventy years. Why, sir, there was a time when the flour was all out of the house; and I set the table at noon and had nothing to put on it; but five minutes of one o'clock a loaf of bread came. The Lord will provide. My son was very sick, and I said: 'Dear Lord, you

. .... I ...HI- . ..* don't mean to take him away from me, do you? Please, Lord, don’t take him away. Why, there are neighbors who have three or four sons; this is my only son; this is my Isaac. Lord, you won’t take him away from me, will you?* But I saw he was getting worse and worse all the time; and I turned round and prayed, until after awhile I felt submissive, and 1 could say: “Thy will. Oh LOrd, be doner The doctors gave him up, and we all gave him up. And, as was the custom in those times, we had made the grave-clothes, and we were whispering about the last exercises when I looked, and I saw some perspiration on his brow, showing that the fever had broken, and he spoke to us so naturally that I knew he was going to get welL He did get well, and my boy Isaac, whom 1 thought was goi ng to be slain and consumed of dlsdisease, was loosened from the altar. And, bless your soul’s, that's been so for seventy years; and if my voice were not so weak, and if I could see better, I could preach to you younger people a sermon; for though 1 can't see much, 1 can see this; whenever you get into a tough place, and your heart is breaking, if you will look a little farther into the woods, you will see, caught in the branches, a substitue and a deliverance. ‘My son, God will provide Himself a lamb.’” Thank you, mother, for that short sermon. I could preach back to you a minute or two and say, never do you fear. I wish I had half as good a hope of Heaven as you have. Do not fear, mother; whatever happens, no harm will ever happen to you. I was going up a long flight of stairs; and I saw an aged woman, very decrepit and with a cane, creeping on up. She made but very little progress, and I felt very exuberant; and I said to her: "Why, mother, that is no way to go upstairs;” and I threw my arms around her and 1 carried her up and put her down on the landing at the top of the stairs. She said: "Thank ;

you, thank you; I am very thankful.” O, mother, when you get through this life’s work and you want to go up-stairs and rest in the good place that Hod has provided for you, you will not have to climb up— you will not have to crawl up painfully. The two arms that were stretched on the cross will be flung around you, and you will be hoisted with a glorious lift beyond all weariness and all struggle. May the God of Abraham and Isaac be with you until you see the lamb on the hilltops. * * Now. that aged minister has made a suggestion, and this aged woman has made a suggestion; I will make a suggestion: Isaac going up the hill makes me think of the great sacrifice. Isaac, the only son of Abraham. Jesus, the only Son of. God. On those two “onlys” I build a tearful emphasis. 0 lsaacl O Jesus! But this last sacrifice was a more tremendous one. When the knife was lifted over Calvary, there “ was no voice that cried “Stop!” and no hand arrested it. Sharp*, keen and tremendous, it cut down through nerve and artery until the blood sprayed the faces of the executioners, and the midday sun dropped a veil of cloud over its face because it could not endure the spectacle. O Isaac, of Mount Moriah! O Jesus, of Mount Calvary! Better could God have thrown away into annihilation a thousand worlds than to have sacrificed His only Son. It was not one of ten sons— it was His only Son. If He had not given Him up, you and I would have perished. “God so loved the world that He gave His only—” I stop there, not because I have forgotten the quotation, but because I want to think. “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in. Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” Great God! break my heart at the thought of that sacrifice. Isaac the only, typical of Jesus the Only. You see Isaac going up the hill and carrying the wood. O. Abraham, why not take the load off the boy? If he is going to die so soon, why not make his last hours easy? Abraham knew : that in carrying that wood up Mount j Moriah, Isaac was to be a symbol of | Christ carrying his o\vn „■ cross up Calvary. I do not know how I heavy that cross was—^whether it j was made of oak, or acacia, or ' Lebanon cedar. I suppose it may have weighed one, or two, or , three hundred pounds. Tha,t was the lightest part of t|fe burden. All the sins and sorrow^ of the worldi were , wound around that cross. The heft of i one, the heft of two worlds; earth and I hell were on His shoulders. O Isaac, carrying the wood pf sacrifice up Mount Moriah. O Jesus, carrying the wood of sacrifice up Mount Calvary, the agonies of earth and hell wrapped around that cross. I shall never see the heavy load on Isaac's back that I shall not think of the crushing load on Christ’s back. For whom that load? For you. For you. For me. For me. Would that all the tears that we nave ever wept over our sorrows had been saved until this morning, and that we might now pour them out on the lacerated back and feet and heart of the Son of God.

You say: If this young man was twenty or thirty years of age did not he resist? Why was it not Isaac binding Abraham instead of Abraham binding Isaac? The muscle in Isaac’s arm was stronger than the muscle >in Abraham’s withered arm. No young man twenly-five years of age would submit to have his father fasten him to a pile of wood with intention of burning.” Isaac was a willing sacrifice, and so a type of Christ who willingly came to save the world. If all the armies of Heaven had resolved to force Christ out from the gate, they could not have done it. Christ was equal with God. If all the battalions of glory had armed themselves and resolved to put Christ forth and make Him come out and save this world, they could not have succeeded in it. With one stroke He would have toppled over angelic and archangeliq dominion 1

RELIGIOUS AND EOUCATtONAlJ —Women will be admitted to all departments of the Catholic uni remit r at Washing-ton, except that of theology. —Copies of the * Bible have been distributed at the railway stations and post offices , in Japan. Doctors in the army and the navy hare received New Testaments. —Singapore is the great meeting place of the different races of tropical Asia, and, therefore, one of the moat important points for missionary enterprise. Bibles are furnished here in forty-five languages. = —A missionary affirms: “I could walk from Canton to Shanghai, over eight hundred miles, not walking more than twenty miles a day, and could sleep every night in a village or town that has a little Christian community.** —A I’rcsbyterian minister in Donadin, after preaching a sermon on gambling, called upon his congregation to stand up as a solemn pledge that they would never attend a race meeting, and. with one or two exceptions, tha whole congregation rose to their feet. —Miss Susan Hurst Kurt*, daughter of the late John F. Kurt* of Maryland, and a niece of Bishop John F. Hurst, has recently been elected preceptress in llordentown Female college, Bordentown, N. J. She was teaching in Greensboro. Md., the placo where, for a time Bishop Hurst taught after graduating from Dickinson college. La Grande Trappe, the parent .of all Trappist monasteries, was lately thrown open to women for the first time in its history, on the occasion of the consecration of its new church by the Bishop of ’Seez.v Before that only three women had crossed its threshold, James II.*s queen, Mary of Modena, accompanying her husband in 169®, and Queen Amelia and the Duchesse de Nemours, who were with Louis Philippa when he visited the convent in 1847. —Over one of the doors 6f the new Memorial church to Emperor William I. at Berlin is earved the inscription: “What camels the fathers of our lavgest city once were! May 2, 1895. Not even three hundred thousand marks! Shabby!” The architect tries to explain it by saying that some one wrota the words in jest on the plans, and aa. Italian workman, who did not understand German, chiseled them as he found them. The Socialists are not satisfied with the explanation, but look on the inscription as a deliberate insult on the Dart of the court.

WIT AND WISDOM. —More or Less. —Mother—“Didn’t I tell you not to let that young man kiss you any more?” ^Daughter—“He didn't, marnpas. It vr&s less by si least3 seven times.”—Detroit Free Press. —“If dere's any invention dat I have a profound respeek for,” said Movealong Mike, “it's de founting-pen.” “Whut’s de reason?” inquired Plodding Pete. “Dev never works.”—Washington Star. —“What makes the baby cry so?** asked Willy. “He's cutting his teeth,” said the nurse. “Why do you let him do it?” asked Willy. “You won’t even let me cut my own nails.”—Harper’s Hound Table. —Passenger—This train is nearly one hour behind time, is it not? Conductor—Yes. But that’s all right We’ll get in in the usual time. Passenger— What time is that? Conductor—Two hours late.—N. Y. World. —That was a bright girl in the street car the other day who said to her companion, who was making the usual female search for her purse: “Let us divide this, Ethel: you fumble and I’ll pay.”—American Hebrew. —Maud—at the ball game—Now, tell me. How is that man out?” Ned—an expert—“He struck out. That’s what they call it” Maud—How stupid to call it that! Why, he never struck the ball once.”—Brooklyn Life. —Ellen and Agnes were planning for the future. “I want to be an artist like Aunt Mary,” said Ellen, “and go to Europe.” “X won’t be an artist” said Agnes. “I am going1 to be a mother.”—Youth’s Companion. —Physician—You must not occupy your time with " anything which requires the slightest mental attention. - Patient—But, doctor, how can I do that? Physician—I will fix that You are to read all the recent ‘novels* with a purpose.”—Chicago Record. — “Is it really true,” said the little boy, “that politicians are sometimes not strictly honest?” “Yes,” said Senator Sorghum sadly; “I am sorry to say that it is I have known politicians who got votes years ago and have not paid for them yet”—Washington Star. —“Now, James,” began the young' girl, “you do'not believe the majority of people are really selfish, do you?* “No, little sister, not at all. What I think is that most of them are waiting until they get very rich in order to become famous as philanthropists.”—Chicago Tiraes-Herald. —Whipsawing a Bore—Man — L want your opinion in a matter. Would you advise me to borrow ten dollars to help me out of a tight* place?” Lawyer—By all means. Man 4 —Very good. Lend me ten. Lawyer —That's all right. My fee for legal advice is ten dollars and we’ll just call it square.—Detroit Free Press.

fc right UopM. Circus Manager (to clown who has jnst been engaged)—Hare you a fam* ily? Clown—I've got a boy and a girl. The girl will never amount to much, but the boy has got genius. He will be an artist some day. ■ “What makes you think so?” “He is only three years old, and already he can tie his legs in a bowknot around his neck.”—Texas Siftings. Kewiwry to Nautical Snctm. “All the animals in?” asked Noah. “Yes.” “Is the yellow dog there?” “Yes.” “And the cross-eyed goat?” “Yes.” * • - ;J “Well. I guess we’re all right If we don’t surprise ’em this trip, it won’t be because we haven’t put mascota oat board.**—Washington Stan