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The Banner-Democrat. (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, December 18, 1897, Image 1

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VOL. X, LAKE PROVIDENCE, EAST CARROLL PARISH, LA., SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1897. NO. 27.
HAPPY TIMES.
There's somethirs' like a jingle an' a
tingle in the air,
Fer the honey's jest a-drippin' from
the hives:
The Belds are lookin' frosty with the
white that blossoms there,
An' the corn crap's jest the biggest
of our lives!
Summer's a-goin'
Needn't beat the drums;
We're bound to have a showin'
When the fall time comes!
There's somethin' like a jingle an' a
tingle everywhere,
An' the blue smoke has a meanin'
as it curls;
They're tunin' of the fiddle, an'
there's music in the air,
An' we'll soon be swinging corners
with the girls!
Summer's a-goin'-
Needn't beat.the drums;
We're bound to have a showin'
When the fall time comes!
-F. S. STANTON, in Atlanta Con
stitution.
"ONLY PIULINE."
BY ETTA J. WEBB.
The day was a cheerless one even
for November. Perhaps it was for
that very reason that the shabby lit
tie sitting-room looked so cosy. There
was a bright wood fire in the grate
diffusing a genial warmth and light.
Katherine loved warmth and light,
she loved roses, too; not the sweet,
wan, fragile kind that overran the old
garden in summer, but heavy, rich
scented crimson roses, such as Jack
Donelson sent in great handfuls daily.
There was a bowl of them now on the
piano, making a blot of vivid color
ainst the sombre background.
Tut it was not Katherine who stood
b the hearth rug with fingers inter
la, ed staring moodily into the fire.
It was "only" Pauline. The warm
glow lent a faint color to her olive
cheeks and brought out a certain lus
tre in her hair that was not there ex
cepting in a strong light. Too, it re
vealed a lurking bitterness about her
mouth and in her eyes. Pauline's
thoughts were not pleasant ones. She
was feeling at odds with herself and
all the world-that disagreeably an
tagonistic feeling that sets one's
moral teeth so sharply on edge.
"Only Pauline!" Long ago-so long
ago that it seemed to her sometimes
as if it could never have been other
wise-she had become reconciled to
the fact that Katherine and Kather
ine's wishes must always receive first
consideration. But then Katherine
was so beautiful that the best of ev
erything seemed hers by right. It
was not hard to yield to her as to a
plainer person or one less charming.
Beside, Pauline was not beautiful. In
deed, no one had ever gone so far as
to call her good looking. Viewed in
the light of Katherine's exceeding
loveliness, she was plain even to
insignificance. Pretty, vain Mrs.
Ward had never been quite able to
understand why her two daughters
were so unlike.
"Katherine is all Morton," she was
wont to say, "but Pauline---"
The sigh and deprecating little
shrug were more effective than any
mere words could have been in the
completion of her meaning.
Pauline had heard the above re
mark times without number, and had
given little heed. But when, one day,
her mother made it in the presence of
Wilton Eliot. she felt a sudden rush
of rebellions feeling that brought
tears to her eyes and a choking sen
sation into her throat. Did it need
that to make him fully conscious of
her unattractiveness? Surely he could
see it without. For the first time in
her young life the girl felt that she
had not been treated .fairly by her
mother and Katherine.
It was the thought of this, and not
the sunless, chill November day that
gave to her face its touch of gloom.
Se absorbed in reflection was she that
ane did not heal' when the door be
hind her opened softly and some one
came into the room.
"Pauline."
She turned to confront the slight.
boyish-looking young fellow who had
just pronounced her name.
"Oh, it's you,. Jack!" she said, :oil
ing a little. "I did not hear you come
in."
"Your mother said I should find you
here. What a nice fire!" He came
and stood before her on the hearth
rug. "Katherine--is she not at
home?" he asked, unhesitatingly.
'No, she has gone to make some
calls with Mrs. Westford."
He drew a deep, quivering breath,
at which the girl looked sharply up at
him.
"I'm afraid you think I'm not very
hospitable, Jack. Won't you have a
chair?"
"No, thank you. I can't stay long
enough for that. Katherine pomised
to go driving with me this afternoon.
but I suppose she forgot," he added,
bitterly.
"I suppose so," Pauline answered,
slowly.
Her eyes fell beneath his question
ing gaze.
"Pauline, tell me!" he cried out sud
denly. "Does that man still come
here?"
"Do you mean Mr. Eliot? Yes, he
-still ebmes. here."
A quiver swept his face.
"Will she-do you think-oh, Paul
ine, is she likely to marry him?"
SThe girl's hand, hanging among the
folds of her gown, was clinched until
the knuckles stood out whitely.
"IIow can .I tell?" she answere4
wearily. "You ousht to know Kpth
yrila well eoubsh by this titme to s.
derstand that she will do exactly as u
she pleases." tl
"But if she pleases to marry him! I g
could not bear it--oh, 1 could not
bear it!" b
The anguish in the young voice c;
stirred Pauline strangely. She turned P
and laid her hands upon his shoul
ders. d
"Oh, yes, you could," she said. "It P
would be hard, but you could."
"Do you think to comfort me by S
telling me that?" he said, bitterly. I
" iou are very good, Pauline, but you h
don't understand these things. a
He drew her hands from his shoul
ders anu clasped them tightly to- ci
gether.
"No, I suppose I don't-as you un- si
derstand them," she said, with a touch ti
of sarcasm.
He looked at her in surprise. el
"Why, I believe you are out of spir
its, too, Pauline! Can it be the n
weather, do you think?" a
"Oh, it must be. The weather is al- d
ways to blame for everything, isn't si
it?"
"I think a drive would do us both d
good. Won't you take pity on me
since Katherine has left "me in the h
lurch?" n
At any other time Pauline would t(
have been only too glad to enjoy the g
delightful privilege of a drive behind d
Jack's handsome bays, but to-day she g
felt that even in so slight a thing as (1
this she could not bear voluntarily to 13
make herself second to Katherine. u
"Thank you, Jack," she answered. ji
gently. "But I'm afraid I'm too dull a
to make an agreeable companion. I c
think I'll practise for an hour or so, q
and see if I can't get into a more com- h
fortable state of mind." o
"Well, I won't urge you, Pauline. d
How dark it has grown within the last
hour! There isn't an inch of blue sky p
to be seen anywhere," he added, glans- t
ing from the window as he turned to a
go. s
Pauline accompanied him as far as a
the door, then came back and seated F
herself at the piano. She was still c
there, running over scales with fever- e
ish velocity when Katherine came in. t1
flushed and a little tired from walk
ing. h
"For goodness' sake, Pauline, do e
stop that dreadful banging! It is e
enough to drive one wild! I wonder
mamma has patience to endure it," n
she exclaimed, fretfully. ti
She went over to the fre, and sink
ing into a low chair began impatiently n
to remove her long gloves. Pauline
left the piano at once, and came and y
stood beside her sister. f£
"Did you not have a pleasant time, f.
Katherine?" she asked. d
"No-yes! Has any one been in ti
this afternoon ?" o
"Jack has." t
"Oh, Jack!" Katherine said a little
contemptuously. "Any one else?"
"No one." si
"Hasn't Mr. Eliot-"'
"Why can't you understand. Kath- p
erine," Pauline interrupted. sharply, b
"that 'no one' includes Mr. Eliot the
same as every one else?" h
Katherine looked up at her tall,
young sister, half startled. Pauline
was not wont to speak thus to her. r,
"I think, Katherine," Pauline went
swiftly on, "that you ought to feel E
ashamed to treat Jack Donelson as o
you do. He is entitled to a little con- !
sideration, at least, and when you is
promise to drive with him of an af- tl
ternoon and then go deliberately off (l
I without a word to make some unnec
essary calls, it is not considerate, to t
say nothing of its being downright d
rude." b
A slow angry flu h rose in Kather
ine's beautiful face. n
"Dear me, Pauline," she cried, t
scornfully, "you are really quite dra- c;
matic! Would you mind saying that o
again a little more slowly? I'm afraid h
I lid not fully understand it." Ih
It was Pauline's turn to blush. s
"Be as scornful as you please, tl
Katherine," she said. "but it's true, o
and you know perfectly well that if v
it wasn't for Wilton Eliot's .--ey i
Syou would never give him a secont,
thought. Why. even Jack would be I
preferable in that case." n
With that she went swiftly out of
the room, too angry to trust herself
farther with words.
The atmosphere of the house f
seemed to stifle her. She felt that she
must get into the open air. To think, a
with Pauline was to act always. Five
I minutes later found her walking rap
idly in the direction of the river. It
was a dark, swollen flood that crept
along between the shelving banks on t
either side. By-and-by, when the ice i
had formed on its surface, it woult
be the scene of many a gay skating
frolic. Buit now, as Pauline stood be
side it, watching absently a few flut- T
tering snowflakes fall one by one into e
the sluggish current, the river seemed
to typify her own dark mood.
A step sounded behind her, and she
turned to meet the grave, questioning a
gaze with which Wilton Eliot was re
garding her. a
"Miss Ward," he began.
"Only Pauline," she corrected, smil
ing a little bitterly. i
"I beg your pardon for having star- a
tied you, but 1 was taking the short I
cut to the station, and seeing you in
the distance, I thought I would stop
and say good-by."
"Are you going away then?" Paul
ine asked in surprise.
"Yes. I find my affairs have been
getting into some confusion through
my absence or my neglect, and de
mand my immediate attention. It
may be many months before I am in i
Sterling again."
HIe scanned her face eagerly.
"I am sure--we all shall miss you,"
she said, trying td'make the words
contain the proper amount of polite
regret and feeling that she had failed I
miserably.
"All?" he said. "You?" 1
iI, of coure, Mr. Eliot."
Paultne war tert!r; more and mor16 e
uncomfortable every instant under I
that keen gaze. She wished he would 4
go away, and yet
"But you avoid me on every possi- I
ble occasion. I never see you when I
call: What can I have done, Miss
Pauline, to merit your disapproval?"
"You have done nothing, and i n
deed, Mr. Eliot, I do not avoid you,"
Pauline said, very earnestly.
"Then it must have been my fancy.
Since you have nothing- against me,
Miss Pauline, you will surely shake
hands with me and wish me good luck
at the end of my journey?"
He held out his hand, and Pauline
could not choose but put hers into it.
Far down the river a trailing line of
smoke marked the approach of the
train.
"'You'll have to hurry," she ex
claimed.
"How anxious you are to be rid of
me. Well, I shall come again, re
member, little Pauline." lie looked
down into her face with a curious
smile. "And now, good-by."
He lifted her hand to his lips, then
dropped it and hurried away.
Katherine wondered not a little at
her sister's subdued and preoccupied
manner that evening. She wondered,
too, that Wilton Eliot should have
gone away without so much as bid
(ing her good-by, for Pauline had
given a matter-of-fact account of her
chance meeting with him by the river.
But she had no mind to make herself
unhappy over it, especally as she had
just received a letter from the aunt
whose namesake she was which en
closed a generous check and the re
quest to use it in the replenishing of
her wardrobe. Katherine's elasticity
of temperament was one of the most
delightful facts about her.
A week later Sterling, the social
portion of it, at least, was startled oy
the news that Wilton Eliot had lost
all his fortune through an unwise
speculation. It was Mrs. Westford
who brought the news to the We rds.
Pauline, who had been for a walk,
came in to find her mother and Kath
erine still in the first bewilderment of
their surprise.
"Oh, Pauline, what do you think
has happened to Mr. Eliot?" was the
exclamation that greeted her as she
entercd the parlor.
Pauline turned perfectly white, but
managed to control herself sufficiently
to ask
"What has happened to him,
mamma?"
"Ile has lost all his money. Did
you ever hear of anything so dread
ful?" and Mrs. Ward drew a little
fluttering sigh of sympathy and con
dolence. Her relief was so genuine
that Pauline felt she must either cry
or laugh outright. She chose the lat
ter alternative as being the safest.
"Oh. is that all?" she said.
"Why, you ridiculous child!"
screamed Katherine. "What more did
you expect? For my part, I can't
possibly imagine a worse disaster to
befall a man like Wilton Eliot."
"I can-several." said Pauline, who
had grown suddenly grave.
"What?" demanded Katherine.
But her sister slipped out of the
room without replying.
For several days thereafter Wilton
Eliot's misfortune was the theme of
conversation in the Ward household
with Katherine and her mother, that
is, "for Pauline made no mention of
the affair and (lid not care to hear it
discussed.
Then the nine days' wonder ceased
to be a wonder, and Wilton Eliot
dropped out of the minds of every
body apparently.
So a few months glided by. One
morning Pauline had been sitting at
the piano a long time. playing me
chanically, for her thoughts were not
on the music before her. Suddenly
her hands fell from the keys into her
lap and a tear rolled down her cheek,
splashing upon her blue gown. At
that moment two hands were laid up
on her shoulders, and Jack Donelson's
voice, vibrating with happiness,
sounded in her ear.
"Pauline-Pauiine, guess what
Katherine has just been saying to
me! Katherine, my Katherine now.
for she has promised at last to be my
wife."
Pauline sprang up with a little joy
ful cry.
"Oh, Jack, has she really? Oh, I
am so glad! D1)ear'. dear Jack, you
cannot know how glad I am!"
"Oh, yes, I can." the young fellow
said, laughing and coloring, "for I am
so glad myself." Then for the first
time he noticed Pauline's tear-wet
lashes. "Not crying, Pauline-surely
not crying?"
Pauline laughed nervously.
"I don't know but I shall-for joy.
Let me go, Jack; I want to find Kath
erine."
And she rushed out of the room in
search of her sister.
Katherine was in the parlor, gazing
abstractedly out of the window at the
snow-filled. street. She turned about
as Pauline entered.
"Oh. Katherine, Jack has just told
me! tie is so happy. Are you?"
Pauline threw her arms about her
sister, and looked affectionately into
her face.
"Of course I am, silly pate! Jack is
a dear boy, and with money enough to
make one very comfortable. After
all. that is the chief consideration."
Pauline's arms fell heavily to her
sides.
"O Katherine!" she said.
"There, you needn't look so woebe
gone. Of course I'm fond of Jack. and
I do not doubt we shall make a most
devoted couple." And Katherine bent
with a softened look in her beautiful
eyes to kisa the grave young face.
So it had ali come about as Pauline
once thought it nevyer could. Jack's
happiness-I will not say Katherine's
-revealed to her the sad longing of
her own heart. Whet:her 'Wilton Eliot
loved het ' ac.t t'- Ioved him with
all the strength .at her nature. As
the winter wore into spring she won
dered vaguely if his promise to come
again would ever be fulfilled, or if in
the great crisis through which he had
passed he had lost all thought of it
and her. She was glad that the prep
arations for Katherine's wedding in
June took so much of her time, and
worked feverishly until even Kather
ine was compelled to bid her take a
rest lest she fall ill. And then came
the first sweet month of spring
March, not cold and stormy as was its
wont, but warm and bright.
Daily Pauline stole away to walk by
the river, where the brown sedge
grasses were changing to palest
green, and there one sunny morning
Wilton Eliot found her.
"You see I have not forgotten my
promise," he said, as he took both her
hands in his, and looked anxiously
down into her suddenly pale face.
"WVhat! Not a word of welcome for
me? Only tears? \hy, Pauline-
Pauline!"
Nevertheless he understood her sil
ence better than words. Presently,
when he had soothed her into some
thing like composure, he asked
"Shall you mind marrying a poor
man, dear? I am rich no longer ex
cept as being rich in your love. Tell
me, Pauline!"
"Shall I mind?" she said, "I wh:
have been used to being poor all my
life?" Then she laughed her bright,
sweet laugh. "It is you who ought to
mind marrying so insignificant a per
son as myself, Mr. Eliot, for to the
end of the chapter I shall be "only
Pauline."-Waverley Magazine.
Odd Whim of a Rich Man.
The type of American citizen who
wears his best clothes on Sunday
reaches a sublime height in Z. W.
Davis, who lives in a cottage six days
in the week and in a palace on Sunday.
Mr. Davis is president of the Stand
ard Lighting Company, in Cleveland,
Ohio, is interested in the manufacturet
of bicycles and in many other enter
prises.
For many years he has passed his
Sundays in Canton, the handsome and
opulant capital of Ohio. The other six
days of the week he has spent attend
ing to his business in Cleveland, the
busy metropolis of the State.
On his six working days Mr. Davi
lives in a one-story cottage at No. 24
Morse avenue, Cleveland. It is about
as simple and inexpensive as a house
can be consistent with comfort. The
owner does not stay very long in it,
for he is a very hard worker, and his
day is chiefly spent in the business
centre of the city.
The Sunday palace in Canton ha?
just been completed. It cost $,0,000I
and contains every luxury and comfort
proper to a modern American house
and some unusual ones. It is really
one of the finest houses in Canton,
which is a city of handsome and com
fortable dwelling places.
The house is built of stone, with a
Spanish tile roof. The lookout on the
roof is 140 feet above the Canton pub
lic square.
On the third floor is a sinall theatre
finished in the finest mahogany. Here
concerts and amateur dramatic per.
formances, of which Mr. Davis is very
fond, are given.
The eaves of the house are fitted
with electric wires, to which scores of
incandescent lamps can be attached.
Mr. Davis has a habit of spending
Fourth of July, Lincoln's Birthday
and other national holidays at his
Canton palace. Then the electric
lights are turned on, the band plays
and all Cantonites are delighted to
know that their wealthy and industri
ous citizen is taking a day off in ad
dition to his Sundays.
Mr. Davis is a type rare in any coun
try but this. Six days a week he
passes in fierce and unremitting toll,
interrupted only by quick lunches and
brief periods of sleep in a house just
large enough for human habitation.
One day a week he lives in the palace.
-San Francisco Examiner.
As to Surf.Bathing.
Among the lamentable incidents, or
accidents, of the late summer which
recur with the regularity of the solar
seasons is the record of death by
drowning at our seaside resorts. So
long as the virtue and pleasure of our
surf-bathing are universally recog
nized, so long will careless and igno
rant persons enter the surf and furnish
a certain number of tragedies in de
dance of the watchfulness of expert
beachmen and the safeguards which
the law provides in defence of human
life.
There is a popular belief that the
dreadful undertow is responsible for a
majority of those catastrophes. No
doubt it is responsible for many of
them. But it is reasonable to believe
that a very large number of deaths
especially in those cases where no cry
for help is heard-are due to another
cause. Many persons who are "full
blooded" enter the surf forgetful or
careless of that habit of first wetting
the head, in which the boy is so apt to
be wiser than the man. Plunging the
heated lower body into the cold water,
the shock sends the blood rushing to
the head, and apoplery or something
Svery like it results, inducing uncon
sciousness-or at least helplessness
and death by drowning.
The undertow is a dangerous force
on the strand. But it is probable that
there would'be fewer cases of fatal un
dertow iifhere were more cases of
thoroughly wetting the head before
immersing the body.-New .York Mail
and Express.
Spreading Imperialism in France.
e Imperialism is to be spread in Paris
Sby the new PetihChapeau Clnb by
Ssocial means. The club will give next
wifiter banquets, balls in the costume
Sof the first and of the second empires,
i and exhibitosns of relics of Napoleqon i
* and at the Prince Imperial,
THE JOKERS' BUDGET'.
AND NOW THEY DON'T SPEAL
Old Maid-There is an art in learn
ing to forget.
Miss Young-Birthdays, for in
stance.
"ERBAL ECCENTRICITIES.
Ifobson-I saw as sbon as I met him
that he was hot about something.
Wigwag-How was that?
Hobson-He treated me very coldly.
A BRIEF CRITICISM.
"I have only one fault to find with
this poem," said the soulless editor.
"And what is that ?" inquired the
author.
"It's no good."
THREE ARE A CROWD.
"You know what a hatred Brown
has for a crowd ?"
"Yes, indeed; what of it ?"
"His wife presented him with trip
lets yesterday."
A FOND RETROSPECT.
"I wish," said the unhappy, per
spiring man, "that I could find that
little boy."
"Wh' litkJ* boy?"
"The one who threw snowballs at
me last winter. I'd like to forgive
him."
HER EXCUSE.
"Mrs. Frisque was at the garden
party last night with her little son."
"Why, her husband has been dead
only six weeks."
"Yes. She said she had to come
out to take the heir."
THERE'S AN ALTERNATIVE.
"It has come to a fine pass," says
The Salt Lake Tribune, "if a man
can't go to jail without going to
church." Suppose, Judge, you try
going to church without going to jail.
A NEW STYLE OF SWINDLE.
"No," remarked the man with flashy
clothes; "there's no money in sellin'
gold bricks any more. I've got a
better la7 dan dat."
"What is it ?"
"I'm goin' up to Alaska wit a valise
full of wooden sandwiches."
TOO NUMEROUS TO MENTION.
"You newspaper fellows are great
toadies," said the cynical visitor.
"You fall over one another trying to
get stories about successful Klondikers,
but why don't you write up the fellows
who have failed ?"
"We haven't the space." *
SERIOUS, BUT NOT FATAL.
"Parker looks like a wreck."
"Yes; he met with an accident."
"Indeed ! Was he much injured ?"
"Well, he's wearing his heart in a
sling."
AFTER THE WEDDING.
"Why so thoughtful?" asked the
bride.
"Well," replied the groom, "I've
just been thinking how I worried for
two years for fear I wouldn't get you."
"And now ?"
"Why, now, when I think it all
over, I can't help kicking myself for
being such a fool as to worry."
IT BEAT SWORD AND CANNON.
She-So you are a war correspond
ent.
He-Yes.
She-What was the worst slaughter
you ever saw ?
He-The worst slaughter I ever
saw took place the night I turned my I
first story in to the city editor.
THE LEGAL WAY.
Client-I think we had better sue
for about $15,000 damages, don't you ?
Lawyer-Will that satisfy you ?
Client-I think so.
Lawyer-We'll make it $40,000,
then. I shall want about $25,000 for
my fee."
AVOIDING RISKS.
Gladys-Papa's going to give us a
check at the wedding instead of a
present, Tom.
Tom-All right. We'll have the
ceremony at high noon, then, instead
of at 4 o'clock.
Gladys-Why, what for, dear ?
Tom-Banks close at 3.
SOME GBOUND FOR IT.
Mr. Darley-I have been reading
an article which takes the ground tha
human beings are simply aggregations
of microbes, formed of piled-up bacilli,
in other words. What do you think
of that ?
Mr. Fosdick-Well, I met a gentle
man from Berlin who told me that he
was a Germ man.
HATEFUL OLD MAN.
"And when your wheel broke down
several miles from home," said the old
man, "you repaired it all by yourself,
did you ?"
"I did," answered the typewriter,
proudly.
"It seems mighty funny to me,
then," he continued, "that when the
ribbon on your machine needs shift
ing you have to call on that dude of a
bookkeeper to fix it for you every
time."
HER OBJECTIONS.
"Young Brown asked for Martha's
hand to-day," said the old gentleman
thoughtfully.
"I'p afraid he won't do," returned
the old lady with a shake of her head.
"He's of good family," suggested
the old gentleman.
"Of course," admitted the old lady.
"I know perfectly well he is a very
estimable young man, but you know
how girls are about such things. I
don't think he stands very well with
Martha."
"What's the matter ?"
"Oh, just one of those girlish fan
cies that we don't think much of, but
that -count for a good deal with a
young girl."
",WeCh as what ?"
"Why, she.doesn't think his best
beycle reoord ii quite up to bh
stadard."
A WONDERFUL CARPET. I
English Women Will Present it to thes
Queen.
At Bridgnorth, within a stone's
throw of the home of Bishop Percy, -f
whose "Reliques" have justified the a
preservation of his house, for nearly a
four months past women have been p
weaving with deft fingers the magnifi- a
cent fabric which will be offered for f
Queen Victoria's acceptance. It is in t
keeping with the loyalty of the givers, a
says the London Chronicle, that the f
carpet should be manufactured in a b
town which claims as its civic motto. f
"Fideltas Urbis Salus Regis." That a
such a carpet was in course of manu- r
facture was generally known, but no
description of it has been made pub- p
lic. a
In fact few, except the Prince of s
Wales, the Duke of Cambridge, and the I
Duchess of Teck-in whose mind orig- v
inated the form which the gift was to
take-have had an opportunity of in
specting the designs. When finished t
it will measure 18 feet by 16, and, al- t
though of unusually fine texture, is up- 1
ward of an inch in thickness. r
It was originally intended that thi 4
material should be mohair, but on r
subsequent consideration the finest t
worsted yarn was used, inasmuch as t
this gives the firmest and most dur
able service. The coloring is regal in r
its richness, the whole being conceived r
with a view to harmonizing with the c
surroundings of the throne room, t
where it will be used on state occas
ions. t
The centre, which is in two shades
of crimson damask, contains the mono- f
gram "V. R. I." in bold letters of gold, a
supported by the Tudor rose and the I
Star of India, the whole being inclosed i
in a garter bearing the motto, "Honi
soit qui mal y pense," surmounted by
the imperial crown entwined by a t
wreath of oak leaves, tied with a rib- i
bon. s
A marked feature is the border in ,
which, on an ecru ground, and in pro- 7
per colors, the rose, the shamrock, the I
thistle and the lotus flower (the latter 1:
emblematical of India) are continued I
until the corners are reached. a
At the angles are animals allegori- p
cal of the colonies; the tiger repre
senting India, the elephant Africa, the d
beaver Canada, and the kangaroo Aus
tralia. The whole of these animals t
are lifelike in coloring and attitude,
and were specialy sketched at the Zoo
for the purpose of the design. The ex
treme edge of the carpet has the con
ventional band, worked in soft gold.
The Midland looms have rarely pro
duced anything so strikingly beautiful.
Technically described, the carpet is
what is known as royal Axminster,
every one of the thousand cords being
separately tied by skilled female
hands. This fact lends additional in
terest to a gift offered by women to
their queen.
The loom on which the carpet was
produced consists mainly of two strong
wooden beams, over each of which the
work is stretched, and is in every way
identical with those on which the old
est examples of Oriental carpets were
made. Real Axminster is only pro
duced by a very few firms in England
at the present time, the exceedingly
slow process necessary rendering it ex
tremely costly, and consequently creat
ing a somewhat exclusive demand.
Since the middle of February no (
fewer than twelve girls have been reg
ularly employed on the carpet, the
number of hands being limited by the
size of the loom. All of them showed
the greatest interest in the national
gift, and individually endeavored to
turn out an article which will not only I
be a credit to the firm by whom they I
are employed, but will be a singularly I
handsome example of the superiority i
of this branch of British industry. I
A case composed of polished oak is 4
being made for its reception, and as
the latter is only to be used on state
occasions, there is no reason why it
should not remind many future sover
eigns of the love and reverence in
which Queen Victoria was held by th&
women of England throughout all the
years of her record reign.
Hatchiog canaries.
Milwaukee supplies the United States
with the bulk of the Hertz Mountain
canaries, and there is no great crime
in the deception, for the Milwaukee
bird is realy an improvement on the
imported article, having just as fine a
voice and being much hardier.
Experience has shown that the im
ported singer loses the power of trans
mitting his voice to the young after
passing through an American winter.
This is the case, also, it is said, with
the Tyroleain singers who come to this
country, their voices losing the pecu
lIar yodling quality when they have
been here a year. The native canary
is hardier than the imported ones, and,
with proper training, is every bit as
good a singer.
Before they are mated the hen birds
are kept in separate cages in the music
room, carefully fed and made to listen
to the music of the singers and the
machine usneed inti-ining their voices.
In this way the hen is enabled to
transmit the best musical quality to
its offspring. The music room is a
large one with a south exposure, and
is kept with the smameCnpulous neat
nes as the breeding room. In the cot
ner of this room is a bird organ, and
with it the little birds are given their
vocal training.
When the machine is started the
notes emitted are wonderfully like the
song of the untutored eanarf. These
notes are known to bird trainers by
the term pfelffen. Gradually the
whistle strikes on to a different line.
It is an improvement over the pfeitea,
and is called klingel rolle. A higher
step still is called the klingel, aara
still higher step hohl ktlingel. Iartly
comes what is called bhchl -rol!e, and
a bird whose voice has been devel
up to that point is wcrth $S't in
mealket ay day.-Milwat eo eti
HE WAS A BRILLLANT CLERi,.
Mow a Virgteia Paedigsr ave s 10
Peru.Cat. teesm6
I ones had a prsnlmad(bad4 fn ge pl
in my stre' down en the JamU h Wm#er
sald a Virginian to a itpseetes. L4@ ,
a general store thusraaddthlslis
promised to bloom Igiis. -h:-b
a oo loo floo@oer, cane tai lwe
far end of Prince Gargeor O
the introductiosi of a ifrn
and his, who said as hl
for anything else, perhaps ia
be made handy in a store. I"(
just to be accommodatlig, tc L*
and promised to give Idm a ehead0I 
rise.
He was about 19 years old, and wrots
poetry betwe 1n times, so I put bim it
sweeping oat as a starter. He could
sweep well enough, and after a week
I put him to doing the chores, and ad
vised him to study the stock while he
was resting.
After about six weeks of this kind of
training I concluded he knew enough
to take charge of my scrap counter,
Which was a counter where I put all
my old stuff about every seltj days,
with the most of it marked in Mg fig
ures and with the additional informa
tion to those looking for bargains that
there would be 10 off for cash.
Trade was lively the morning I put
him at it, and he was doing as well, If
not better, than the more experienced
clerks, for I noticed several people get
ting around his way and getting out
pretty quick with what they had
bought. I didn't think much about the
whys and wherefores until the young
fellow came to me at the desk with a
suit of clothes in his hands to ask me to
explain something. The suit bore a
large white card inscribed with a big
black "$8."
"I don't quite understand this," says
he. "The others I sold were marked
$10.75, $11.50, $11.98, $12 and $12.48,
and it was easy enough to -calculate
what 10 off would be and sell them for
75 cents, $1.50, $1.98, $2 and $2.48, but
I'll be doggoned if I see how you're go.
Ing to throw $10 off of an $8 suit, un
less you want to give the customer $2,
and I reckon you ain't that liberal,
even at the scrap counter, are you?"
It mighty near gave me a spasm, that
did, concluded the gentleman, and I
put another clerk at my discount coun
ter p. d. q.
Lives on Insects.
There is a quaint plant which grows
in pea bogs. It has large flowers, with
an odd unmbrella-like shield in the cor
ner. The leaves are generally about
half full of rain water, in which many
insects are drowned. Some naturalists
say that the flower lives on the drowned .
insects.
TASOO &
Mississippi Valley
Ralroad maintains
Unsurpassed : Daily : Stien
belween
NWE ORLEAI8 & IIPHIS,
connecting at Memphis with
trains of the Illinois Coe
tral Railroad for
Cairo, St. Louis, Chicago, Cui
oinnati, Louisville,
making direct oonneotiees with through
trains for all points '
NORTH, EAST AND WEST,
including Bufal9, Pittsburg, Oleve
land, Boston, New York,Philadelphia,
Baltimore, Richmond, St. Paul, Mis
nespolis, Omaha, Kansas City, Hot
Springs, Ark., and Denver. Close
connection at Chicago with Central
Mississippi Valley Boute, Solid Fast
Vestibuled Daily Trains for
DUBUqUE. SIOUX FALLS, SIOUX CITY,
and the West. Particula·r of agents
of the Y, & M. V. and conneoting line
WM. Mnnar, Div. Pas. Agt.,
New Orleans.
Jao. A. ScoTr, Div. Pa. Agt.,
Memphis.
A. H HHrson, G. P. A.,
Chicago.
W. A. KELLo D, A. G. P. A.,
Louisville.
W. D. BUM, City Tkt. Aget, Vickaburg.
ILLINOIS CENTRAL
AILA.ROAD,
THE G(REAT TrmK LII
Between the
North. and South. ;i
Only direct route to
- 'ti, St. Wi' Iau ...
a all inpolats
iond * Iitin stems a*th6
r Through Pstlieart P
Ohio river at Cairo com
trains (freighbt and
Siag regularly over it,th
delays and annoyanoe
fo by ferry boat "
A. H. wsoitn, J. . W.' i
Oen. Pas. Agt., a ..
,pd ~~PM g,Oik*,

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