Rensselaer Republican, Volume 27, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 June 1896 — Page 2

TIRED. tWMBd I were lying-in * Aelcf of clover — Of dever cool and soft, and scented Wtth dneky clouds in deep skies hanging ' ' - ever. Asd scented silence at my head and feet—7ust for one hour to slip the leash of Worry In eager haste from Thought’s impa- ■ - tient rush, And watch it rushing in its heedless hurry. Disdaining wisdom’s call, or duty’s hush. Ah! it were sweet, where clover cfumps are meeting, And daisies hiding, so to bide and rest; No sound except my own heart’s sturdy beating. Nocking itself to sleep my breast — Jnst to lie there, filled with the deeper breathing That comes of listening to a wild bird’s sohg; Our souls require at times this free unsheathing— AH swords will rust if scabbard-kept too long. And lam tired—so tired of rigid duty, So tired of all my tired hands find to do — . I yearn, I faint for some of life’s free beauty. Its looser beads with no straight string run through. Ay, Laugh, if laugh you will, at my crude speech; But women sometimes die of such a greed— • Die for the small joys held beyond their reach. And the assurance they have all they need. —Mary Ashly Townsend.

QUESTION OF EXPENSE

When a ‘new man” came to town to ■tart a paper, occupy a pulpit, practice law or open a grocery store he became the talk dr the place. You must bear in m nd that Williamsburg is a small town and in appearance just like scores of other towns in Missouri. Prairie count 15 on one side, woods and a “crick" on the other, with hills between. The roads that are dignified by the name of streets are yellow in Williamsburg. In summer they are afikle deep in dust, in winter knee deep in mud. The walkt. where there are any at all, are made of two planks laid about a foot apart—the plank itself too narrow for two, so that when particularly interesting pairs of young people walk home from meeting or the opera house trader the Williamsburg moon they wonder what could have been the purpose <»: the inventor of that sidewalk in putting the boards so far apart. Williamsburg has a "square,” with a rickety court house in the center, toward which equally fallen-down stores face tach other from eadh of the four sides. A few trees lean about the court Louse losing limbs in every wind-storm-limbs that hang there until they die ana the town boys pull them down and a poor Marky takes the branches home fdr firewood. "Hines’ grocery house" was the biggest store of the kind in Williamsburg several years ago. It sold more Vandalia flour than all the ot her stores put together.—Old Hines was a man whom nobody liked, but always kept a good stock. His clerks w ere three bright young men, who made friends and kept them as patrons of the store. “I’ve heerd," said the old man, one evening after business was over, “that some dem fool is thinkin’ about startin' another paper here. Lord knows the Banger's doin’ poor enough.” said one of the clerks. “I heard the same thing this morning. Young fellow from Kentucky’s going to start it. Over at the Merchant's Hotel last night he told some of the boys that he was going to call her the Champion.” “Huh.” grunted Hines. "That’s a good name.” Here he blew out the lamp on on s of the counters and moved forwaid toward the door—"and I’ll double all your wages if it’s runnin’ this time next year." The quartet moved toward the door, blowing out the lamps as they went. They stood in the darkness under the wooden awning just a moment “Yes," went on the old man before saying good-uight to his clerks. “Let’s see, this is the first. Just for luck I’ll pick the 29th of February next year, it bein' leap year, an’ if the Champion, as you call it. is runnin’ then I’ll give all of you boys $lO raise apiece March 1!” The "boys" said nothing. Old man Hines said gdod night and started for home. After he was well out of hearing the young clerk who had mentioned a knowledge of the Cha mplon* r remarked: “The old man has been losing money on the Banner ever since he bought part of it No wondCr be.doesn’t want any fresh opposition." “Sarah Merner has been setting most of (lie paper, too, at $6 a week,” sugst<-<! another of the boys. “He could . >t hir a man to do the work for sls. it would be tough on him if the new paper'd get Sarah.” With a few more words concerning the prospects of the new journal the three clerks separated for their homes. In the morning all of Williamsburg was talking about the new paper that was to be started. The editor had been “around the .square" at an early hour, receiving hearty encouragement in nearly every store. Some of the merchants contributed small advertisements, nearly all subscribed for the Champion, a few paid in advance. Hickman Arnold was the name of the new editor. He was a tall, handsome fellow of 2G, wdth a small, curly, light mustache that he twirled and pulled almost constantly. His hair was light and curly, too, massing closely about a high, broad forehead, under which •hone iarge bljie eyes, full of honesty. **He acts ilk? a hustler,” old Hines had to admit, after the young man had gone out of his store without receiving ■ word of encouragement, “but mark my words, beys, you’ll not get a raise of your wages next March first or a doubl- in a year. He ain’t the kind that’ll last. Wait till he pays sls a week for a printer for a dozen weeks be Just won’t do It, that’s all.” Kaeji of the three clerks resolved that it would be a good thing for them to do tlitir best ,work, very quietly of course, to keep the new paper on Its <oet at least beyond March 1. The first, tasue cnjnc out in a week, full of bright local*, hili alarmingly deficient in adgertlHi meuta. “We are here to stay,”

was the Announcement at the head of the editorial column, whereat old man Hines shook his head gloomily and murmured that he doubted it The first thing that suggested itself to one of the clerks, as he thought of schemes to help the young paper along, was to quietly arouse Sarah Merner s interest in the' Champion, so that she would go there for a small raise in pay. That would save Arnold at least five or six dollars a week, quite an Item in the journalism of Williamsburg. But he did not have to arouse that Interest Sarah Merner felt it from the moment she saw the handsome young editor stalking about the streets. Sarah was a bright-eyed girl, with rosy cheeks and hair that made their color stand but the more because of Its blackness. Her hands were of the plump variety, so fat that her knuckles were marked only' by dimples. The first fingers of the right Land Were hard on the Inside of the first joint, made so bv the steady picking up of the type—not callous, but much harder than they would have been had they touched piano keys instead of long primer. She sat on the high stool in front of her ease in the Banner office and looked out on the street Young Arnold was just passing. He involuntarily looked up, not at the girl so near the window, but at the office of his contemporary. His eyes met those of the young compositor, however, and he got to thinking—not of the pretty girl, but of the business stroke that she suggested. “That’s the scheme,” he said to himself, as he walked toward the office of the Champion. “I’ll hire a woman printer. She’s just as good for a country office and a good bit cheaper.”

With that idea in view he went into the stere of a friend whom he had known for several years. He explained what he wanted. “Now,” Arnold went on, “where can I get her?” “There’s no girl compositor in town except Sarah Merner,” said the young editor's friend, “and she’s working for the Banne*, where she learned her trade." One of oln Hines' clerks was In the store. “I heard,” he spoke up, “that Sarah is going to quit the Banner because she’s toad at Bill Cannon, the man who edits it. But of course I don’t know bow true It is.” • As a matter of fact, he had stated pure fiction. He was out of the store In a moment, however, bound for the office of the Banner. He went up stairs and Into the editorial-room. Cannon was not there. He went through a door where two cases of type and an old Washington hand press stood. “Good-day, Miss Sarah,” he said, half out of breath. “Just heard you was going to quit.” “Whatl” the girl exclaimed. Then she remembered that the young man was one of Hines’ clerks. Still, that did not enlighten her. ~ “Who told you?” she proceeded, diplomatically. “Oh, just heard Mr. Arnold, the new editor, say that he’d hired ycrti, or was going to.” “Well.” said Miss Sarah, “I don’t know anything about it.” Of course the young clerk did not say anything, but somehow the next day old man Hines was astonished by the announcement that he and Cannon would have to get a printer, while all of Williamsburg was talking about Sarah Merner’s two-dollars-a-week raise by going to the Champion office. . “You will not have to assist at making up the forms, Miss Merner,” the young editor said, as he came In with a buneh of copy. “I know enough of the art preservative to do that I hope that your work on the Champion will be pleasant” She said “Yes, sir,” or something like that, for in truth she was nervous under his steady, blue-eyed gaze. She sat on her stool all day, picking up the new type and placing them, one by one, in her “stick.” But when evening came she found that her day’s work was not up to the standard. She had not set as much type as usual. It was because it was new, she thought. But that was not a good reason. Then her fat hand twitched as she heard the door open. “No,” she said to herself as young Arnold came in, "it is not that.” “Still at work?” the editor asked, cheerily. "You are putting In long hours. You’ve set a good deal of -type, too—more than your high-priced preuecessor got up in twice the time.” “Thank you,” Sarah murmured, “but I am afraid that you will find the proof very bad." “Guess not,” returned Arnold. “This one here seems to be all right at. a glance.” The girl got down from her high stool and went to a basin in the rear part of the' room, where she washed her hands. She took her apron off and put on a pretty, round, all-season hat. Then she said: “I’m going. Mr. Arnold, good-night.” “Good-night, Miss Merner,” the young editor responded, as the girl reached the door. Just as she was passing out he looked up suddenly. “I say,” he called, “where do you live?” • “Oh, only a little way—about half a mile south.” “Let me go with you, then. It’S getting dusky.” Sarah hesitated in the open doorway. The young editor was looking at her, waiting for an answer. Then she said; “Think you, Mr. Arnold, but I win go alone.” Then she pulled the door shut. Arnold opened it in an instant. “Miss Merner/’ he said, “I hope that you did not think impertinent in offering my company, for surely I was honest in feeling that you should be escorted.”

“Oh, that's all right,” the girl answered, lightly, “Williamsburg is a little place and there’s no danger. I’m used to it. And ” She stopped. Her heart was beating so loully that she almost beard it “Yes, Miss Merner?" “And—well, you know I’ve only, been here a day, and—but, yoti oughtn’t to go home with me, Mr. Arnold, that's all. u “Not for the world, let me assure you. If that’s the view you take of it. I beg a thousand pardons for offering myself.” The door closed and Mary weht home aloue as she had done scores of times while working at the ‘ Banner office. This lime she was thinking very seriously. Had she made a mistake in changing from the old well-established paper to the new one? But the cohfi-

(fence of youth, bueyed her and she concluded that everything was right. Mr. Arnold was surely a gentleman, and If she conducted herself as she had In the past/there could be no gossip, even in Williamsburg. Many of .her friends congratulated her on the •change that she had ma.de. In fact, she ■ soon felt sure that there was no mistake* in Thd next day passed as pleasantly as the first. Arnold worked • hard and was enthusiastic. 01 get new subscribers every time I’m on the street,” he said to Sarah. “If advertisements were a trifle more plentiful there’d be no trouble ahead for the Champion.” The girl’s eyes sparkled. “I hope not,’’ she said: “there’s room In Williamsburg for a good, real newspaper." “Something different from the Banner, eh? Arnold laughed. “Well, we’ll try to give it to ’em." “Wait till spring opens and we’ll be all right,” he said, “but In the meantime it’s uphill work. I’m sorry to put you off this way for your salary, but I’ve got to pay the paper bills first or the agent will come put from St. Louis and take the press. W r e couldn’t get out much of a paper without the press, could we?" he laughed. “Don’t worry about my pay, Mr. Arnold,” she said “Any time within a week will do me." The Banner was having an equally hard time. It was a more expensive paper than the Champion. Cannon, the editor, drew out enough money to maintain his family, and the., sls a week printer haa to be paid, too. Half a dozen times did old man Hines have to go down in his private purse for money to maintain the paper. “It ain’t this dead loss .that bothers me,” lie muttered. “What I want to know is, who’s backin’ the Champion? If that thing hangs on till the roads break up and dry out I’m a ruined man.” But the Champion was not backed, Arnold brought a little money to Williamsburg with him, but he had spent It in equipment. By making explanations to his landlady he secured an extension on his board bill and by the hardest kind of hustling he raised enough monej' each week to defray the expenses of his little paper. In February, however, matters 1 began to look very blue. He had collected every available cash subscription and every advertisement was paid a full month ahead. One day. near the end of the month Arnold came into the office looking very gloomy. Ho knew that the Champion’s days were numbered. “Mins Merner,” he said, “I am sorry to say to you that our next issue will be our last.” “Whatl” Sarah fairly screamed. Her “stick,” half full of type, fell on the case. “It’s too bad,” she said, more calmly. Then she bent her hfead down on her arms and began tocry. “There, there, Miss Merner,” Arnold exclaimed. "Don’t. I’m sorry enough, mysel' 1 , goodness knows, but I don’t see any way of avoiding it. I’m sorry for you too—it’s all my fault that you left a good situation on the Banner.” “No, no, Mr, Arnold, I came because I wanted to, and—and I’m glad I did.” “Well, to tell the truth, I am, too,” Arnold returned bluntly. “But there’s no use crying over spilled milk. I’ve written a little editorial here explaining that this field is too small for two papers. When you set it we will be ready to go to press.” The tears were still running over the rosy cheeks of the girl on the stool. She wiped them away with her apron and, picking up the copy that Arnold laid before her, she began looking it over. It told the usual story of hard times, poor appreciation of honest efforts and a limited field of operation. After Sara-. had read it through she let the sheets drop. They floated off the case and fell about the floor. She was dreaming. For a quarter of an hour she sat without moving a muscle, looking straight into the little type boxes before her. Her face was red Worn the roots of her raven hair to the simple bit of edging that filled the neck of her dress. Her heart beat loudly. Her hands were feverish. She picked up the “stick.” Thea she began to pick out the type, one by one. She dropped them into their places faster than ever before. Her eyes flashed and her bands trembled as they worked. In a moment she was through. Again she let the “stick” fall heavily to the case. She looked over the lines that she had just set. They were full of mistakes. Little matter. Sarah got down from her stool, and taking the type she got a proof of It on th j little roller press near at hand. Then she slipped off her apron and donned her hat. She took the proof Into the front room, where Arnold sat, with nis face buried in his hands. “I’m going out for half an hour,” the girl said. “Here is a proof of your editorial.” “Doesn’t matter,” returned Arnold, “I guess it’s all right.” Sarah went out. After she had gone Arnold looked up. “Poor thing.” he muttered. “She’s as badly disappointed as 1 am. No, that can’t be, either, for I not-only lose the Champion, but I lose her, too. No use talking, old man. I’m in love!” a He reached across his desk in an absent-minded fashion and took up the proof slip. He didn’t look at it at first, but tore off bits of the paper and chewed them. Then he chanced to look at the printtag on the long white sheet. “H’m,” he muttered, “she made a mistake. This isn’t my edltoriah He looked at it again. Here is what he savy: - • ■

“To whom It may concern: This is leap year, and with a feeling that I am doing something utterly unwomanly I* offer to you my hand in marriage. It will reduce expenses and besides keeping the Champion alive will, I trust, make both of us happier." Then Arnold got up'from his seat and whistled one soft, long note. He went to the door and looked up and down the street. “She said that she'd be gone for half an hour. That will give me time.” Arnold went back to his desk. For ten minutes his pencil flew over the paper. Here he took the article up and hastily scanned it. “That will do,” he said. He took it into the back room and placed it on Sarah’s case. It was a leading editorial and this was its title: “We Are Here to Stay.”—St; Louis Republic. As a rule, there is most justice in the ■ide of the story that is not told.

WOMEN HOME

RIVALRY IN CYCLING SUITS. QUITE a trade is being built up by the fashionable tailors and habit-makers in the line of cycle costumes for ladies, and the trend of style is nearly altogether toward the skirt. Women themselves (ire giving the movement for the ultra-bloomer and the knickerbocker costumes the go-by, and any man who has persuaded his wife to ride the bicycle with the Idea pf educating her up to. a simpler and less expensive, if less attractive, way of dressing fs getting most wofully fooled. Society liavifig taken up the sport, women who lead the cotillon in the winter have to make a decent appearance in the cycle paths of the ■ town. That means rivalries as bad as those which spring up in the season of Easter hats. Whereby the man with the slim purse is made sad and the ladies’ tailor waxes opulent. The simple bloomer costume and the more pronounced kniekerbocker rig have taken a sad drop. According to all the authorities no woman wishing to be in the cycling upper ten can afford to discard the short skirt. Knickerbockers of the same material are worn under the skirt, but bloomers are quite “outre.” Women Who like the diamond frames may appear to wear the skirt by adopting the latest thing in “divided garments,’’ a skirt fallings in kilted folds behind to conceal the bifurcation, but undivided in front. On foot the skirt seems to be of thei regulation kind and on the diamond frame wheel only expert observers would know that the garment really is divided. Cycling offers, or will offer, as much or more chance for the display of taste and differences in fashion, as far as dress is concerned, as horseback riding

or any other sport or creation, and the tailors and costumers are not slow to take note of the fact.

World’s Greatest Heiress The Baroni ss Hirst h, who is nominally the legatee of the Hirsch millions, was instructed by her late husband to make this grandchild, Lucieune, her heiress. Lucieune is the "daughter of the Baroness’ only son. She is a handsome - gi rl. inher teens. The future heiress is being educated in Belgium in royal state. She has her own chapel, a private chaplain and all the appur-

HEIRESS OF THE HIRSCH MILLIONS.

tenauces of a prjncess, and a very rich princess at that Lucienne will be the greatest heiress in the world when she Is in possession ..of the late Baron Hirscb’s millions.

Society Woman and Author. Mrs. Van Rensselaer Cruger is the home name of the brilliant authoress, Julian Bordon, whose novels and es-

MRS. CRUGER.

ten that life is made for more serious things than routs, balls and other functions. Building for the New Woman, The new woman in New York has secured a large lot on Broadway, New York, on which to erect an immense Building. The lower stories will be used for business, while above It will be set apart for the accommodation of women, and include banquet hall, parlors, clubrooms, music-rooms, gymnasium, tennis court, bicycle stable, and studios. The women’s clubs and societies of the city originated the enterprise and will carry it through. Li Hang Cbanst’a Wife, Of the wife of Li Hung Chang, millionaire of millionaires, a writer says: “Marchioness Li is very beautiful, and compared with her fellow countrywomen, an exceedingly learned lady. Her age is nMjre—possibly a great deal more—than 50, yet she looks 30, or even

less. The wife of the richest pan in the world, she spends royally, although not without keeping a detailed account of her expenditures. In her magnificent home on the banks of the Pel-Ho she lives in great splendor, surrounded by song birds, peacocks, aquaria, pottery, gems and botanical collections. One thousand attendants and servants answer her beck and call. In her wardrobe are guarded 2,000 coats, 1,200 pairs of “trouserettes,” and 500 fur robes, made from the finest skins. Her feet have been compressed until they are quite inefficient for the original purpose, and |he Marchioness is unable to walk more than a few yards at a time. Four Varieties of Stitching. Buttonholing, feather, satin, and cross stitches are called in requisition for this useful edging on white or col-

ored flannel, linen or cambric, wrought with colored silks, shetland wool, or embroidery cotton, and suitable for undeflinen, flannel petticoats, knickerbockers, children’s pinafores and slips. Women Stick to the Cities. Excess of females seems to go with demsity of population. Of twelve States which have an excess of females, eight are States that have the densest population. It is, in fact, found that the seven States having the greatest excess of females have also the’ largest proportionate city folk. The

last census shows that seven-tenths of the 1,252 cities in ftie United States having over 2,500 inhabitants show an excess of females over males. In other words, native males are more numerous in the country than in the cities. The rural population embraces 29,708,894 males and 19,180,961 females, giving an excess of 1,527,963 males, while the cities, numbering 11,358,286 males am 1 11.3T3.439 females, show an excess of 14,453 females. The disproportion of women in the cities would be much greater but for the excess of male immigrants. In all the States save North Carolina the males are the more numerous in the rural districts, nd In about half the States the city population is predominantly feminine.

Laughter Adds to Beatify. Laughing is said to produce small wrinkles about the mouth, but no one need have any anxiety about wrinkles .lius formed, for they are rather pleasing than not, and often add to the at-' tractiveness of facej for they show a light and merry heart. “With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come/’ as Shakspeare says. Cheerfulness and bright,- happy looks always add to beauty, so laughter should certainly be encouraged, even at the expense of a wrinkle or two. It is the lines that come from a peevish, discontented frame of mind that disfigure the face, and have to be fought against Hints of All Sorts. A good remedy for damp walls is to make a strong solution of alum and wash the walls down with it. Do not soak fresh fish in water before cooking, as this treatment only ruins the flavor and makes it soft. To clean oilcloths wash always with warm milk. Once In six months Scrub with hot soapsuds, dry thoroughly and apply a coat of varnish. They will last as long again. Oranges should be eaten freely as long as they are in season, for, besides being a delicious fruit, they contain a large quantity of citric acid, so valuable for its medicinal qualities. For stopping leaks in a cask beat up some whiting with common yellow soap. If this mixture is well rubbed Into a leak It will be found to stop It, after everything else has failed. Rice flour paste makes a delicate cement, suitable for use on satin, silk or thin paper. To make it stir rice flour into a smooth paste with cold water and then gently boll over the fire, stirring all the while. To shrink woolen goods, such as Jerseys, is not difficult. The knotty point generally is bow to prevent flannels shrinking. If you wash the Jersey in a hot lather you will And it shrinks to any extent, according to the heat of the water.® Rain water is by far the best for washing the face in, as it has a softening effect, if possible never, use hard water, but when you are obliged to do so throw a handful of oatmeal into It, or a little pure borax. If your face is inclined to be hard and dry, wash it in hot water before going to bed and then mb In some emollient cream, or glycerin and'rosewater.

says created such a furor some four or five years ago. Mrs.Cruger is one of the leaders of New York society, but while discharging her so-' cial obligations punctiliously she has never forgot-

USEFUL VANDYKED EDGING.

WOMEN WASH FOR GOLD.

North Carolina Dames Bear Their Part in the Mining Operations. Among the inhabitants of the southern mountains, among those strange left-over people whose have little changed from what'they were 200 years ago, women bear a large share of the burdens of existence, and they don’t call themselves new women. In the South’ mountains of North Carolina, lying to the south of the old town of Morganton, the poorer residents obtain a small amount of money by panning gold ijHhe “branches,” as the little streams are called. It was told that by far the greater part of this work was done by women, and I was invited to make a journey through the mountains with one of these women to act as guide and preceptor. As we stood the next mornjng before a log hut the door opened and a woman stood before us. She was introduced by my friend •'S “Tine” Hank. About 80 years old. rather small, slight, dressed In a coarse gown of nondescript color and material, her eyes were of the most beautiful brown, while her glossy biack hair was done into a simple knot at the back of her head. Her feet were bare and brown as. the soil which formed the floor of the cabin.

“Tine” had been forewarned of our coming and was ready to start at once with her gold-pfth- under her arm. In a commanding tone she called to a man who sat by the fireplace, telling him to get a shovel and follow. We took our way down a crooked, trail which ran alongside one of the “branches.” If It had been a pleasure to see the grace and beauty of this woman in repose It was a marvel to observe her gliding aiong the fores* path, with every muscle In play, every motion adjusted to the needs of the moment, now stepping deftly from one stone to another, now grasping the small limb of a tree to aid her in a steep part of the path. When we reached a place where heaps of gravel and sand showed that panning had been done, “Tine” assured us she could obtain a “color.” Taking the- shovel from the mountaineer, she drove It into the bed of the shallow stream, pushing it down by placing her naked foot on the edge of the blade. Having carefully chosen , a panful of gravel, she crouched down and commenced the operation of “panning.” I have seen this delicate task performed many times, but never before with such rapidity and dexterity. In an incredibly short time she gave the final twist to the iron pan, and exhibited it to us with the small remaining amount of gravel.collected in its lower edge, while tiie tiny yellow scales, the “colors,” were arranged in a sort of line in the upper part. Then she jumped to the opposite side of the branch, digging witli her hands at some loosened pieces of- quartz in. the opposite bank. She returned, carrying three or four pieces in her hands. One of the fragments she held out triumphantly, saying, “It’ll carry riglit smart gold,” while her bright eyes shone with pleasure. Placing her trophies on a flat stone, She proceeded to beat the quartz to a fine powder. Scraping the crushed material into the pan, she proceeded to a small pool in the stream and went to work as deftly as before. A pretty picture it was and a novel one, this delicate featured, barefooted woman, bending over the edge of the stream, whih rushed along among the gray rocks, taking its path down the slope of the mountain under the big pine trees. When the pan was presented for inspection there, indeed, was “right smart gold.” Instead of a few flakes a yellow streak showed on the black surface pf the pan—“almost a pennyweight,” as the mountaineers informed us. This being placed in a sharpened quill, brought along for the purpose, we left the "branch” and starte for other profitable ■workings. During the day we encountered several women, Usually in small parties, engaged either in panning or in beating up the loose vein rock after the primitive method which “Tine” had employed. They told us they averaged about $1 a day when they worked hard, and there was, of course, always the chance of striking a “pocket,” which might gi.ye them ?20 or S3O in a lump. They were able to turn their winnings gt once into cash by selling the gold to the local storekeepers.—New York Herald.

The Vitality of Young Chickens.

The first e Sgs which a hen lays In spring have greater vitality and will produce strongter chicks than those laid later in the season, after a hen’s vitality has been partly exhausted by continuous laying. Experienced breeders understand this, and it is the reason why they- nqt only charge more for the earliest settings of eggs, but choose these for setting when breeding for their own yards. The eggs for hena. that are confined in close yards are often infertile, br the chicks from them have so little vitality that they easily succumb to disease. The wider range breeding fowls have the more certain their eggs will be to hatch. TJiis makes it generally Inadvisable for breeders to keep more than one variety, as unless one or the other is closely confined there is certain to be crpss breeding and confusion In the flock, which entirely destroys its value for breeding purposes.

Great Commanders.

The ages at which the greatest commanders made their reputations are these: Alexander the Great, between 21 and 33; Hannibal, between 26 and 45; Julius Caesar, between 42 and 55; Frederick the" Great, between 26 and 51; Gustavus Adolphus, between 36 and 38; Napoleon, between 27 and 46.

Insanity and Divorce.

The lunacy statistics of the kingdom of Wurtemberg show that out of 1,O(.O,000 people the lunatics number: 113 married women, 224 girls, 338 widows, 1,540 divorcees, 140 husbands, 236 bachelors, 338 widowers, and 1,484 men living apart from their wives. The moral of this people seems to be, Don't rush to the divorce court.

Coal in Minnesota.

Several excellent deposits of anthracite coal have been discovered in Minnesota recently. The veins thus far discovered are only about five feet in thickness, but the coal is of excellent quality. Every man should try to go to heaven ba a final triumph over bls enemies, who will pn.r«-.bly not be there.

THE Poetic MUSE

In the Orchard. The orchard trees are all ablow; Like downy drifts of mimic snow Against the clear blue sky they show. The fleecy clouds that hurry by Half pause, as if they spy Some comrades wandering from the akyt Beneath the beauty of their bloom, In fleckered space of light and gloom I rest, and breathe the sweet perfuma. Down drifting from the laden trees, Stirred by the lang’rous southern breast That many a snowy petal frees And wafts about, as if in play, Till, tired out they fall, and lay Upon the grass their “milky way.” The merry birds call down to me, And looking up for them, I see A flush of pink through yonder tree. Methinks at first it blushed with shams To hear its poorly chosen name; How fair ijts blushes all the same! O balm of beauty everywhere! O Lethe fount for fretting care If I but bathe my spirit there! So blest is he who owns but sight, His heart may pulse with new delight From blushing morn, throiigh rtany night! —Boston Transcript. For My Love. ■ ... r What shall I give my love? Violets? Ah, no! The violet droops and fades and dies, And violet’s the color of her eyes, And so, Not violets for my love. What shall I give my love? Lilies? Ah, well. Her neck is your rival, lily queen; Her hair, like your stamens, has golds* sheeny Ma belle — "Ndt lilies for ihy love. What shall I give my love? Roses? 17 Ah, see How the petals pink are scattered there, Sweeter I find not anywhere, So she Needs roses not—my love! What shall I give my love? Pansies? In a day The beautiful, tender flower face Will lose its richness and form of grMfe Nay! nay! Not pansies for my love. Violets, lilies, roses, pansies, None will do. Even these tiny heather bells, I pass them by for immortelles, And you Are crowned with them, my love. —E. C. L., in New Orleans-Ficayuns. Springtide. Now April yields the wand to May And spring’s old spell is on the air; With what delight of sound and sight. It tingles, flushes everywhere, Till green has conquered gray!

This lively mirdcle of spring, I view it with an alien eye; Applaud the show; my pulses grow, Responsive—-I, ’twixt earth and sky The only thinking thingl The curtain’s up, the play’s begun— Man, the spectator, sits aside. His pride of thought seems dearly bought At seasons of the gay springtide, His earth disowned her son! Perhaps, although the words of flame Still flicker round our Eden-gate, She half withdraws her own hard law*, One splendid'vffinute; ah! too lat®, For have I dared to claim My portion of a right divine, And sent regret the way of dream*? Alas, not so! Put this I know, Earth smiles on me sometimes, and aeesM To lift her mouth to mine. —New York Tribune. : « Scotlo’a Robin. Gie’s a sang in Robin’s praise, Scotia’s Robin! Darling Robin! Wearer o’ fair Cbila’s bays, Scotia’s darling Robin! Man! at singing wha sae fine? Scotia’s Robin! Lilting Robin! Nane can match his Doric line, Scotia’s lilting Robin? Sangs o’ his hae mainthan soun’, Scotia’s Robin! Rhyming Robin! Rin our gamut up an’ doun, Scotia’s rhyming Robin ! Humor, wit, an’ pathos true, Scotia’s Rollin! Bardie Robin! Mak’ his sangs a famous brew, . Scotia’s bnrdie Robin! Man an’ singer baith were gran’, Scotia’s Robin! Matchless Robin! Men to him were a’ ae clan, Scotia's matchless Robin! Lived an’ loved an' gane to rest, Scotia’s Robin! Darling Robin! Ta’en his place among the best, Scotia’s ain dear Robin. —Hunter MncCulloch, in N. Y. Hom* Journal. Ariette. The tears are falling in my heart, E’eu as the rain falls on the town-r-Whence may this grief of mine upstart. This weary languor of my heart? O gentle patter of the rain Upon the gables and the ground! How kindly to a heart in pain Comes this soft singing of the rain! These tears upspring without a cans* In my poor sorrow-smitten heart— Have they no reason, think you? Pause! Nay, they are shed without a cause! It is a dreary sort of fate To know, forsooth, in no wise why, Unloving, yet untouched by hate, « My heart is doomed to this sad fate! —Paul Verlaine. A Song of Early Spring, There are shadows out under the maples, Sunlight on the breast of the hills; And a robin come buck from the southland Is whistling his earliest trills. In the voice of the wood-stream is laughter, Broken free from its frost-fettered < brink, Unuer brown, withered leaves there is moisture For tendrils of wind-flowers to drink. In the breatli' of the wind ther - is fra- , grand!*, * Thers are dreams in the cloud-drift* above; , In the world there is promise of summer, In the heart there is love, there is lovo! -Clata Wood Shipman. _