Walkerton Independent, Volume 24, Number 50, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 1 July 1899 — Page 2

S • —■ —-—-— | Typewritten proposal. |

TAT, tap. tap! went the typewriter, as under the nimble lingers of the operator the typerods flashed up and down with light-ning-like rapidity. It’s a warm day, too—very warm, and no doubt that ill-fated instrument feit it. but yet each and all of those tail-collared, clean-shaven clerks, who kept throwing languishing eyes in the direction of the fair operator, would have willingly changed places with that reeking, squeaking, jerspiring machine. But Amy Northcote did not seem in very good form on this particular morning, for gradually the rattle of the machine got slower and slower, and at last stopped altogether. As a matter of fact, little Miss Northcote was in a very peculiar frame of mind. She was extremely romantic, and spent one-half of her time in reading novelettes, and the other half in thinking about them. Tales of love and devotion, of herotam and martyrdom, King Arthur and his table round, Lancelot and Guineerrant knights and ladles .fair—every “legend she had ever read, and dozens of others she had made for herself, crowded in upon each other in wonderful confusion. The long train of courtly knights and serenading gallants floated leisurely before her, and more came, and still more, and yet all of them, though so different in apparel, had the same face. I And what a handsome face it was, too.' What a tall, commanding figure! How graceful it looked in the robes of Romeo, and how glorious in the armor j of Lancelot! Suddenly her reverie was Interrupted by a quiet voice that descended from some distance above her. “Good-morning, Miss Northcote!” She looked up with a start, and there stood her Lancelot before her. He seemed to have discarded his armor and donned an ordinary black morning suit and a very white collar, “whereof,” as the office boy once remarked, •’the height and stiffness were marvel- i ous great.” “Good-morning, sir,” she said, in a ; half-frightened voice, and then, as the junior partner disappeared into his room, she bent over her work with a .very red and very hot face. Then the typewriter clicked again. ‘ but not so merrily as before, and fre- i quent errors occurred. Presently a bell in the office rang twice. This was the signal for Miss Northcote to go into Mr. Norman's room and take the morning etters, for this young lady was also shorthand writer to the firm. The door closed and she was alone with the handsome young partner, j Jack Robertson returned to the office, and, as he ^limbed gadly hi^ lofty stool, a universal groan went around the room. Eight stiff white collars cracked simultaneuosly as eight beads dropped sorrowfully over their respective invoices and bills of lading. The morning letters were soon finished and the young lady rose to go. “One minute, Miss Northcote, please. I have a private letter I wish you to write. It is a rather delicate matter, and I certainly ought to write the letter — r— il K \ ■ J* —* W- —— j I “I CERTAINLY OIGHT TO WRITE THE LETTER MYSELF.” myself, but as the business concerns j the fair sex 1 thought you might possibly be able to help me." “Dear madame,” he began, “in such i a matter as this, when the welfare of { two people is at stake, perhaps a ]H*rsonal interview would have been preferable to a letter. But we city men. whose lives are spent almost entirely In business occupations, ami whose thoughts are seldom allowed to stray beyond the conventionalities of this life, would, I am afraid, make but poor wooers. “To this letter, therefore. I leave the task of revealing to you what 1 fear to I tell you in person. Whether the length I

of my acqnsintamv with yon. or the circumstances under wimh we liav. known each other, will p'-rr.b »f i t making this proposal, 1 haw y. u v, judge. In my own favor, all 1 can say is that I—er—that I Well, I suppose I had better say love. Do you th n that is the most suitable word, M -s Northcote?" •‘Yes, sir.” “Yes. yes, I think so, too. Now. then that I love you most ardently. Perhaps the nature of our intercourse has kept me from disclosing my regard for you, but I sincerely trust you will not allow this to influence your decision. Outformal acquaintance prevents me from expressing my deeper thoughts and ' feelings. Let your gentle heart plead for me rather than this cold letter. . which 1 am painfully conscious is more i like a business letter than I intended it to be. At least, let me implore you to give it a fair consideration, and if you will consent to be my wife my whole life shall testify my gratitude and constancy. I leave my future happiness in your hands. Lntil I know your decision I shall have none. Meanwhile, I remain, yours forever, Thal afternoon seemed a very long one to the little typewriter. She copied the letter perfectly, and delivered it to Mr. Norman, who posted it himself. She then went on with the ordinary letters. At last the long day came to an end. L

and Miss Northcote prepared to go home. The oilice boy brought her hat and cloak, and Jack Robertson helped her on with them. He would have liked to escort her home, but dared not ask. so he wandered slowly to the Lyric Theater, and wept copiously enough through the whole performance. Meanwhile the object of his thoughts walked pensively down the busy Strand, still dreaming of her noble Lancelot But, somehow, this time it was not Lancelot.and Guinevere, but Lancelot and Elaine. She stopped in front of Whitehall and gazed in admiration and awe at the gigantic figures of the two lifeguards on ther passive horses. How grand they looked! How strong and handsome! Just as Lancelot must have appeared to Elaine. Then one of those noble warriors winked at her in a very 1 li ITJ Ur ? J mo H I RWB -- "I? X , < >i “the envelope was in mb. normax’s WRITING.” unromantic manner, and she hurried on. feeling very much disappointed, and vaguely wondered whether Lancelot winked at his Guinevere like that She let herself quietly in. and went upstairs to her own room, in order to have a good cry, which she bad been promising herself all Ihe day. On the stairs her little sister handed her a letter, which she took into her room with her. She laid the letter on her table, with the intention of having her cry first; but catching sight of the address as she was putting it down, she snatched it up again. The envelope was in Mr. Norma n" s ha ndwri t i ng. In a tremendous hurry she proceeded to open it. and of course took about three times as long as usual. The first few words were enough. "Dear Madame-In such a matter as this—-J,;, • She knew every word of ’t—every tap. It was the very letter she had written herself; and with a little cry of half-frightened joy she flung herself on her bed. and had even a longer and more passionate cry than she had promised herself. In these degenerate times the imperious Lady Norman flaunts and flourishesjn her baronial balls. loved by her tenants and adored by her husband. But It is whispered among the ser- | vants that her ladyship will often retire to a little private room, where she has sometimes been seen shedding | tears of happiness over the bones of a I poor, rusty, rheumatic old typewriter. I —London Evening News. The Other Side. Optimists are pleasant people to meet, | but those who have business dealings I with them sometimes regret the easy cheerfulness of their views, Somebmly once asked a distinguished i English barrister whom he met at a i railway station, where each was wait- , ing for a train, how he managed when j he was called in two ways at the same | time. "Os course. I can't be in two placoe at i once,” said the barrister, easily, "so 1 have to make a choice. For instance: to-day two cases in which I am concerned were called in different courts. Oue was in the interests of a clergyman and the other of a railway company. "On the whole, it seemed wise for me to stick tot herailway company and leave the clergyman to providence. And I won my case.” “Will you allow me to add,” said a mild-looking Individual, who had s?ood close at hand during this conversation, "may I be permitted to say. sir. that we lost ours?"—Youth’s Companion. Uses of Salt. For stains on the hands nothing is better than a little salt, with enough lemon juice to moisten it, rubbed on the spots, and then washed off in clear

w nt or. Strong twine limy 1,0 ns<-.t to nd ! ■ :mm in bedsteads. 11.a I alum water is alse _■ .d t,.r -p-s pm ! pose. In a basin of water, salt, of course, falls to the bottom; s<> never soak salt fish with the skin down, as the salt will fall to the skin ami remain there. If a chimney or flue catch tire, close 1 all the windows and doors first, then hang a blanket in front of the grate to exclude the air, throw coarse salt down the flue. For weeds in pavements or gravel walks, make a strong brine of coarse salt and boiling water; but the brine 'in a sprinkling can and water the weeds thoroughly, being careful not to j let any of the brine get on the grass. Cause of the Kettle's Song. People often wonder what makes the 1 high note of a sintering tea kettle, but i the explanation is simple. As the water heats little bubbles of steam are form- . ed at the bottom of tiie kettle. These ! rush upward and. being attracted to , 1 the sides of the kettle, they make a । commotion which sets the metal in : ; vibration and the kettle "sings." * : Every time we meet a school teacher ’ I we find that we have always been pro- ‘ nouncing another word incorrectly. A man with an elastic imagination is . apt to mistake it for his conscience.

HIS BEST DAY. “I know a boy likes Chris’mas best Cos Santa Claus comes then; He 1 kes to hang h's stocking up. An’ take it down again, An' count his presents out but l—l’druther h^-e it Fourth July. "That other boy likes Chris'mas best 'Cos o’ the Chris’mas trees To Suuday schools—an’ things to eat. An' when thoy's been a freeze, He likes to slide and skate, but my! What’s that longside o' Fourth July? "Chris'mas is good, but Fourth July! That day’s the best of all— O my! I wlsht could bo the Fourth Ail summer an' all fall! No other time begins to be So good as Fourth July to me! “I hope 'at when the Fourth is here My mother'll think its right To let me creep down stairs an’ fire My crackers off ’fore light. I’ll blow my horn, and shoot mr gun! An’ wake up pa! an have such fun! "At dark I’ll fire my shooting stars. An' let my rockets glare. An’ set my Roman candles off— Whizz! Rush! Buzz! Bang! 1’op! Flare! Chris'mas is good ’nough, but my! I’druther have it Fourth July! I wisht 'twas always Fourth July!” — Womankind. TROI BI.E raged on the irrigation ditch. The upper gang and the lower gang were at outs. The former had lost a horse and the lows r gang was supposed to include the thief. “It just means a tight," exclaimed Mack to Simpson, as the two members of the lower gang rode over the plains one summer night. “Thore can't be any horse stealing around these parts and not have fighting." "No; and the feeling isn't any too good already,” added the < ther. The ponies loped easily, and turning down the trail went swiftly into the thick, sunflowers of a ravine. It was nearly sunset and the tali weeds seemed to be almost like young saplings. Suddenly the horses stopped; ahead was an unusual sight, a white-topped prairie schooner. A one-horse rig, too, exclaimed Simpaon, looking it the thills that were on the front of the wagon. "And deserted, ton." and Matt drew nearer to the strange outfit. W ell, what do.riii think of a man that will do this?” ^b* pulfid the curtains aside and showed the sleeping form of a boy perhaps 7 years old. The little fel low looked peaked and helpless and the sympathies of both the men were aroused by the sight. "Well, he’s a rascal.” was the reply at last and the curtain was dipped. He am t a rascal.’ came from the inside of the wagon. "My papa is g to me." "Hello, there, what arc you doing here?” asked Matt. "Waiting for fireworks; papa fan* g no after them. He always g, : s th- m f Or me on the Fo ther .Inly." "M hat did he say?” asked Matt. "Says Ins father has gone aft. r fireworks -a likely story. Th. layv’s hungry; that is what is the matter with him.” "Mell, let's food him. I'll go over an! get him something from the camp Ami. say. I'll bring him some fin w -ks. t, . I d forgot it, but to day is the i .-irth of July, and the bos- has a lot of rm-kets and things ready to fire off. All the men are out hunting for the horse thief and ther Vave forgonen ail about it. 1 can steal a few.” Away rode Matt in the gathering dark-ne-s. ami a:;h meh the pony w, very fast, and the man did not slay a camp more than a few moments, th wa t s,suited a long one to the wat< her in the rax me with the boy. Ih v <hilU wu- buugryi and nervous ami confided to the man that he had bom "awful sick.” N mps n f, >. ~x . ceedingiy sorry for the little one, and was more and more indignant at the actions of the man who bad forsaken s u h a precious j charge. "Here he comes." he said at last, when the rattle of horse’s hoofs was heard on the prairie sod. Matt came <! wn tht ra vine and had some difficulty m imdmg the wagon hidden in the stmfi.m» rs. At i last he opened the package ! ... 1a: i laid the fireworks . a the m-* m - ,l. j boy. "Sapper first," was the : !cr f>m ! S.mp-*m. and the three ate : . mm r< supply that had laen brought. “G<»od thing not to take k: 1 -he ranch." said Matt. "The men w hare a rough time there to-night, an i tm.y wouldn't spare the b. y." "Now for the fun." and away went one of the rockets into the darkm^-. utering its splendor over the level p ains that spread from the edge of the rn\ ne. The jack rabbits md the pra ne .C, saw i; and wondered what it could be. Somebody else saw it, for away off to the south, where its light was y as a faint gi miner, ’.here wwts a < ompa .. of horsemen, ami they turned their am' mals in that direction. "Hark!” said .Mat’, as the fun wa> a; ! its height. "Sonu body’s < ■ _ The light of the last rocket had given R pa-- ng view of a man mi Imr-. ~a . a: the crest of a ravine In a moment the man was near them and he was accompanied by a large number. In the midst .d ' the party, with his head bound in a large I red handkerchief, was seen the figure . : a i re an tied >n a horse. "We have got the thief," said the leader of the new i- .mers. "Well,” replied Malt, "what are you bringing him here for?” "We kind of lost our way and we thought this was the camp. But we are going to settle with the rascal right here, anyhow. It might not be best !o take him to the camp, after ail.” "Sure it is the man?” "8.-mnd • . 1 a •: the homo " In the Uim of the Htil,. fire o f sun I f. .wr - all,- lam -m.b...1, hmt k tile p- - er w In • ,ght forth. 11. pre- > . . they I know the unwriuen law. "What have you there?" remarked on^ I Oi th.* newcomers, p anting to the boy who j stood by, looking with open-mouthed astonishment on the weird scene. Nothing but a kid that we picked up." answ. red Matt. ’ Ret him alone, w ilt "Say. fellows.” went on the visitor, "what’s the matter with letting the bov fire some of his rockets and make a respeetable illumination for tills proceeding?” Ine others agreed, and the child was placed m position at the head of the two lines that had formed ami had in hi- hand a ' - r "ckot that was to be fired at the signal, and then the bands were to lie taken from the prisoner and he could be hit by any .>ne who was quick enough. It was thought that he would get enough punishment to prevent him from ever returning to that section again. He evidently thought .so, too, for he was trying his best to escape. "All ready,” called Matt. "Go!” Ihe bandage was dropped from the man - eyes and the ropes came from off his feet and arm-. A dozen whips were _ raised to strike, but before they could bo used a dramatic scene followed. The bov - who was to fire the rocket dropped the signal tn the grass and the bunches of , hre we !n sknrrving away in the tall sun- • flowers. I-„r himself, the little fellow made one ley,7, and before a whip descend-

lift ~ = 1. Luk Rabbit—Polly, W ant a cracker? 2. Boll—l’ll go vow n ♦ Poll—Not on your lisp lackv Tv. h.v. , > y ' But wont you sworn off smoking. ’ ' ' ea cracker, Jack i Do have one on Jack Then let’s have a Fourth of July race. 1 m a regular erackcrjack at sprinting. 3. Humph! 1 h;s looks l.ko one on me. 4. Tut! tut! What’s this? 1 smell p«»w<h*r. -.*■ „C.d Wb J® - । ■ ~ ->T. i -gA5. i’elly How's that f or a cracker, B. Zip! Kerzoom! End of the Tale. Jac ’" —San Francisco Examiner.

ed he was clinging to the man's neck with lx»th arms around the same in an embrace that mean! a great d«ai. “Oh, it s papii!" he cried, nml the man. instead of running, stood holding the child to his breast. "Well, this is a go.” said Matt. "What have yon men then doing?” "Make him run.” eallesi one of the more excitable ones among them. He raised his whip ags n, but Simps n stood l>tween an ! would have received the blow on his own shoulders. "You have captured the wrong man.” said the s:ranger. "But you didn’t «ny so." "How ild I when you had put a yard of ce’ion ov.-r my n nth? I was looking for something to < t, and you made a rush and got me l ed before 1 could get w- rd to you, 1 tri. d not to let you get me, though." " \ y- n ! light like a tiger.” "My boy n; I I ar,- traveling hack cast,” went on the man. “One of our horses gave out l>a< k here a ways and we had to get along n.:h on. The i»>y s mother died m the mountains, and I must take him to my folks. We are very poor, but we are honest." "Then how dal y n get the h«.se that belongs to the gang?" "I did not get the horac. This is my ox u I horse." "AV. ’ll s. c n 1 ‘hat. Come on, boys," . said the o lolcr, an.! • .ey w-Mt toward the’ ran ae ho-ise, where t! me:, bad thwr; headqiiari> t* "Bring little fireworks and h “ play things.” culled one of she men. and they gathered up the remainder of the rockets. ()n the’way the boy fin d -•verai, and their l pa Mi was th is marl.,,! with fire and shout sng. for the men enjoyed the sight as well as he. As th* - y came nto camp they saw all ;h»i upi>cr gang men and the remainder of the ' lower gang employes enthen-d there. This i unwonted sight made them afraid that I !rouble was in ’he air. "We haw g >t your horse,” called Matt, as they drew nearer. ’ti ■ we, . aih> <tr.a-.ge an?w, - Sure enough, ns they entered the < nmp there was brought a horse with a j> <sx’ of picket ro|»e tied to his neck, and when ’le y ' *i.;n 1-, -:.;e th. horse ridib u by the stranger the two animate looked like as twins. "But t!i s :s the right one." explained otic f the men. pointing to the rope. "He had Is-en in rhe tall weeds and was tan-1 gled by his FOI»e." "Seem- to me that we owe you an apology." said Matt, addressing the stranger. “Im-i - eeicbrate it.' added the happy i S;mp-m. "If it hadn't L-vn for the b-r. w,> would have given the man pretty bad tr, MtiMt. Ret h-n fire his rockets’" S . the rein., • b r of the fireworks went into the dark ami illuminated the scene tha* was - • unn-'ial on the plains. "Whi'e wo ire ab i* it." went on Simpson. “let's shake hands and be friends Th ■ men < f ' o-h gangs liked the snggesi ■ : i ■ a hnppy evening together. Wie n i~v l:; d the emigrant drove | on east a few- days afterward they were । sealed behind two horses, and the good wishes ..f both camps went with them.— Chicago Record. The Modern Casablanca. The boy stood on the backyard fence. Whence all but him bad fled;

HURRAH F’R THE FOLRIH! * Mx rF AT Wk U. ( I1 —Minneapolis Journal. 1

The flames that lit his father’s barn S'i >nc round him o'er the shed. A buii'h >.f crackers in his hand. Two others in his bat With piteous nc.'cu’s loud he cried, 1 never thought of that!" The fames flew wide, flew thick, flew hot, Tliey lit upon the brat; Th y tire ! th, se ra- kera In his ban J, And ven th In Ins hat. T • in:.' i burst .f thunder soundkI’>'• b ' • Hi. wh« re w as lie? Ask : no winds that s'rewed around His fragments on the lon' A ■ j , kirfe. th-oe marbles and Some fish !i ‘oks and some yarn—• The re .of that dreadful boy IX o burn; bU father s barn’ j -Vim. IWO MEMORABLE FOURTHS. One Followed thol’nllof Gcttvsbnrg, the Other the X ictory nt Santiago.

HIS country has n sorno tim al and dramatic cGcbrations of the 1 irrh of .July, ami th s. same go to enforce historical sign " 'an ■■ w uh those w h—e m e m o r y reaches back into the past generation. J i3H years ago th s Independence Dev. that of lS’k’l

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was one of expreslln, b-nrtfoß vne; a. When the sun ( roM» on that vivid F<w’h f Ju’y a!h j . prepnra'i ’u« were made in the midst of devastating war • • pay homage to the ua ; tion’s natal day, the wires flashed the news ihii - -l>urg had . a the ni -st m >menu .i< % -t..rv f r the l a!..a arms, •nd X , ss'inrg had fa.leu. It was ;H'rha;w the n. -• .-r.tieal p. r. >d of the war the l.:gh water mark of the prowess of ■ a l iny, when its for-es had pursued a vc ’ r mar< h and were actually in r.;»e a • a e r r?. I in- whole nation 'Fcvic i w ’li ex c 'nen’. ami was in. d« '-d a g. r: is l' ;i th when the news mat Gr-.at and Meade had simultam- .- y v. a : a., - fi v 'al victories. H -a <..ig ;ar .• n< dental situation that < xa t.y one year pra-"ically the same m ■ r> -* and anxiety as that manifef’ed in Wi3 ho Vere 1 ab ut the Fourth of July. ivm. h rtHimr. s brief exercise of men; -ry to revive with a thrill the rare eagerness with which the whole people of this country were awaiting news of the j naval campaign in Cuba as the month of I July dr.fled in. It was July 3 that the J most remarkable uxj>! «it ever accompiish- • ed by American arms came to fruition—•n that day tne 1 : ited States navy met ; the foe b ng < >ught for, and Cervera s i fleet was d. -'i >y.-l in Santiago harbor. : ihe sere-x of thrilling events that accompanied th < impor’ant occurrence, the in- . ’<’nse national anxiety of July 3 that was followed by w idespread rejoicing the ensuing day. mark an epoch in ardent historical event that, being within our near ai ual knowledge ..,1 pa nt i cipation, wil never be forgotten. fli« Natural Diet. Big Brother Say, Bobby. I should j think you could eat pawl.T crackers. Little B >bby XVT. ? Big Brother ’Cause I h.-ar l papa < al. you a little son of a- n. Win ■' a . ■ - in i bad box m -

TOWN WITHOUT WOMEN. Queer Municipality on the Mace* •lonian Coast. Situated on a promontory on the coast of Macedonia, known as the Mountain of the Monks,” because there are no fewer than twenty magnificent monasteries scattered in the sheltered recesses or on the tops of the lofty crags, lies Athos, a community where all the inhabitants are men, says the Giri's Own Paper. There dwell in this secluded spot, cut off from all the pomps and vanities of the world, the devotees of an extraordinary system of asceticism, quietism and superstitution. The town proper is called Caryes, where are to be found all the essential features of civilized lifestreets of shops and bazaars, filled

with bustling and eager customers, coppersmiths plying their trade, and fruiters piling up their wares. But never is seen the form or face of mother, wife, sister, daughter, lover, child or infant. Strange to say. the superstition runs that it was the Virgin herself who banished her sex from this spot. In one of the Athonite monasteries is a miraculous icon—an image or representation precious in the eyes of worshippers of the Russo-Greek Church. The legend, firmly believed by all, runs that one day the picture of the Virgin called to the Empress Pulcheria as she was going to her devotions, saying. “What do you, a woman here? Depart from this church, for women's feet shall uo more tread this floor.” The Empves-; obeyed the injunction, although she had greatly euriuched

and beautified the building. Since that day no xvoman nor female animal has lived on the promontory, and only the birds have broken the order. But it is only on the wing they do so. When fowls are on the table they are sure to be cockerels, for not even dead liens are imported. The monks are celebrated for their kindness and hospitality. TO USE A PISTOL. One Mau Who Thinks a Bluff Ta a Good l li ing. “If you ever have to use a pistol.” said a man of experience to a New Orleans Times democrat reporter, "the chances are you’ll find yourself in endless trouble with the courts. When I was living out in Texas I adopted a scheme that worked like a charm. 1 went armed, liked everybody else, but I always kept one blank cartridge under the hammer of my revolver, for use as a bluff. “Oue day a professional bully made a dead set at me. and when I saxv that a fracas was unavoidable 1 whipped out the gun and blazed auay square in his face. The suddenness of the thing scared him nearly to death, and he tore down the railroad track and fell Into a cattle guard, thinking ho was killed. Another time a fellow threatened to carve me on sight. 1 met him coming into a store and instantly opened tire. He skipped out nimbly and couldn’t bo found for three days. Those blank cartridges saved my bacon and my reputation, and. best of all. saved me the untold tribulation of defending myself in a murder trial. After that 1 was regarded as the gamest citizen in town, and the bad ui< n „ave me a wide berth. Os course, 1 always had five good bullets in reserve in • ase the bluff failed to work, but I’m thankful to say, I never had to use ’em.” Bisbop Williams. Many anecdotes were told of Bishop M illiama of Connecticut after his death, for the gooil bishop was as well known for his love of fun as for bis earnest piety. At a meeting of the bishops, a measure was proposed and explained by its originator, but with such incoherence that nobody understood it. A second Bjxaker essayed to make the matter clear, but only darkened it. When he had finished Bishop Benjamin Smith of Kentucky tried to explain the question and also the explanations. Feeling that be had failed, be said: “Bishop Williams smiles. What has be to say about it?" "Only this.” said the old bishop, “that ‘the mess of Benjamin was found to be greater than the mess of any of his brethren.’ ” "The humor of Doctor Williams,” says a friend, “was always present and ready like the flash of sunlight. It bad one peculiarity, it never scorched . nor left a scar behind.” At an assemblage of noted men a year : or two ago. a lawyer who conducts the legal business of a great railway system tried lo "guy the parson” by malicious quizzing. At last he said. "Why don’t you get these railway managers j to give you a pass over their roads, i bislmp? You can pay for it by giv ng ’ them entrance tickets into heaven." ,

"Oh, no." gently replied the bishop. “I would not part th,m -o for from their counsel in the other world.” 1 the lawyer •.. mded io "let the parson alone." —Youth’s Companion. A Flag of Truce. Such occurrences as this are inevitable. The father is a veteran of the civil war. and the son helped settle things in Cuba. “You don’t know what war is,” said the old gentleman at dinner the other day. “It’s nothing io go over and clean out a lot of half-breeds and heathen. We fought as brave' a lot of men as I ever strapped on a knapsack or pulled a trigger, and we didn't come home I kicking because our bill of fare wasn’t up to that of a .$5 a-day hotel.” “O, I guess you did your share of kicking, from what I read. Aad I guess you didn't strike anything much'hotter than it was going up that hill at Santiago." "Fapa,” said little Johnny, from near the foot of the table, "do you mean that a man that was wounded or killed In your war was any more woundeder or killeder than they was in Brother Ike's war?” The older veteran simply hoisted his napkin on his fork, and the Cuban hero smilingly acknowledged the surrender. —Detroit Free Press. Not Worth It. “Tommy," said bis mother, “if I get you a new suit of clothes you must promise not to climb trees or play marbles until they are worn out.” "Then,” answered Tommy after a moment or two of reflection, "I don’t want them.” I

HIGH EXPLOSIVES. Magazines for Their Manufacture to Be Built Along the Hudson. Factories and magazines for the manufacture and storage of high explosives are soon to be built by the xavy Department. The plans call for b expenditure of more than $1,000,000, xvhieh has been appropriated by Congress. During the war the need of a magazine at a convenient distributing point was felt severely; that at Ft. Lafayette was overtaxed, and at best only capable of supplying 1,000 rounds a day, most of which was for the guns of the secondary batteries. The largest of the new magazines will be built on the Palisades near Edgewater and almost opposite Grant’s I tomb. It will have a frontage of sev-

eral hundred feet on the river and will be built to the edge of the cliff. The site selected is away from factories with tall chimneys, which are considered dangerous. Several large buildings are to be erected. They will be used for storing ammunition and as a laboratory for testing materials for guns and torpedoes. There will also be a building used solely for experimental work, and a large plant for the manufacture of all kinds of powder. Most of the buildings will be of solid construction, iron, steel and stone being the material used. The smaller build- । Ings will be made of corrugated iron. । Several piers extending into the water I about 300 feet will be built. The rive’* is to be dredged to a depth sufficient to permit the largest battleships to be moored to the piers, where ammunition - l can be taken direct from the store-

houses and placed in the magazines of the vessel. This will do away with the delay of handling the charged shells and the explosives many times and the dangers surrounding reshipment. A\ hen the plant is completed it will have, it is planned, a capacity sufficient to supply high explosives to the entire navy, and great enough to assemble neafly all the fixed ammunition and charged shells needed. It will cost, it is expected, about $000,000; and work may be begun within a few months. Another plant may be erected near the naval proving grounds at Indian Head. Neither will be dangerous to the property of the neighborhood.—New York Evening Post. President Faure. How uneasy may lie the head that wears even a presidential crown is indicated by two true stories told of the late President Faure of the French republic. Last autumn the president was one of a hunting party, and during the progress of the sport killed a pheasant. “It is rather early, Mr. President,” one of the officers in the company remarked, “to shoot pheasants. In a month or two they will be better.” "In a month or two!” said the president. sadly. "Who knows where I shall la* then?” Shortly before his death President Faure went to open a certain annual exhibittem. He exchanged a few courteous words with members of the commit lee which had the ceremony in charge, and then aske* for an absent member, Monsieur Jollivet, a journalist. He was told that Monsieur Jollivet was unable to be present. "I am sorry,” said the present, “for I had something which I wished to say tohim.” A member offered to carry his message to Monsieur Jollivet. "It was only this," said the president. “In a recent article about me in his paper he said that I am a ‘happy man.’ Please tell him that I am much obliged for the thought, but that it is a mistake. I am not a happy man.” Spanish 'Women. Spanish women have very little outdoor amusement. The bicycle is just beginning to be admitted, but under protest. The young women love their queen next to pretty frocks and glittering fans and ribbons. They flock to the cruel shows in the bull-rings and laugh and cheer at the horrible spectacles. The favorite resort for the grande senoras is San Sebastian, and the lives the careless Spanish women of fashion lead there during the summer is said to be a scandal over all Europe. There is scarcely a pretense at propriety or even ordinary conventionality. As in France, a majority of the young girls in the best families are educated in the convents. Their greatest accomplishment is embroidery, and they sit i and sit at their knitting until some I man from an ancient and bankrupt : bouse or a bull-raising plantation comes along and marries them. Club life is unknown. Marriages are celebrated very early in life, and but lew people who get weary of these early i alliances ever go to the trouble and for- ' mality of nine a divorce. The unliarmv -miples simply divide up the 1 ’ Cd things and Jive the balance

• ' of their lives the best they can. i V Penny Saved. 1 he individual who saves a dollar in one direction and immediately proceeds to spend two in another, as a sort of reward of virtue, is a familiar charevter. "I've stopped economizing,” - said the girl with the violets, as she - Dirred her chocolate. “1 can’t afford it. ? 1 trimmed this hat I'm wearing last month, and saved ever so much. I 1 saved so much that I felt able to buy r a new gown, and it will cost three i times what 1 saved before it's finished. . i It's always the way. If I save a car ; I ticket by walking down town, I sp^.d i a dollar* for violets before I get home. • i I'm going to stop trying to save, and : I've painted a proverb to go on my mantel to remind me ofjt: A penny saved is a dollar wasted.’” A Cigarette Horror. 1 hclk when applied to persistent > w.n-ette smokers, drop off dead, distinct traces of the dangerous oil given off of tobacco being found in them, sirangely enough, the same experiment tried upon excessive pipe-smokers resulted in no apparent injury to the leeches. On one of the Eastern railroads ft has been announced that after an employe passes 45, he is too old to compete with younger men. You young fellows who are wasting time, should remember this: this is becoming an immensely practical and one railroad company has pi, -d the age limit at 45. About all that people gain by marriage over those who remain single 13 children and experience.