The Baltimore County union. [volume], November 10, 1906, Image 1

About The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909

Image provided by: University of Maryland, College Park, MD

                
VOL. 57. WHOIiE No. 2183.
Stock ffarnxs.
grovefarm
FALLS ROAD,
North of Brooklandville, Md.
PRIZE WINNING —
Guernsey Cattle,
Berkshire Hogs,
Shropshire Sheep,
Colored Muscovy Ducks,
White Wyandotte Chickens.
POB SALE—
HULL CALF, dropped May 2d, 190#, oat of
Clare of Poplar Grove, 3d.
BULL CALF, dropped March 19th. 1908,dam
the unbeaten cow “Lillie of Poplar Grove.”
Both by imported bull, “Spotswood’s Cock
of the Walk.”
THRBB FINE BOAR PIGS, bred at Bllt
more, N. C., and the pick of about 40 plga,
just (this date, June 23d,) fit to wean.
Apply to JAS. McK. MERBTHAN,
R. F. D. Cockeysville. Md.
C. ft P. Telephone -Lutherville 13k.
Oct. #—y
FILSTON FARM
GLENCOE, MARYLAND,
W. R. HARVEY, Superintendent,
BREEDERS OF
Imported & American Bred Jerseys,
Large English Berkshire Swine,
And the Standard Breeds of Poultry.
We have on hand at the present time over 260
REGISTERED JERSEY CATTLE. The herd
is headed by the great Bulls, Golden Grand,
Forfarshire, Masterpiece, Great Cross and Ga
zoile’s King Merigola.
We have some sne YOUNG BULL CALVES,
sired by these bulls, that we will sell at prices
M.
the following breeds of Poultry: White Wyan
dottes. White and Barred Plymouth Rocks,
White Leghorns. The yards are now mated and
they are the best we have ever had. Price of
Eggs, $2.00 per 15. or $3.50 for 30 eggs, nicely
packed ready for shipment.
PT Come and see what we have or write
Nov. 18—tf
lit) lid M h
Oakleigh Station, Md. & Pa. R. R.,
2X Miles from Towson.
Constantly on hand
A LARGE STOCK OF MULES,
TO SUIT ALL PURPOSES,
fEfc -a
Coach, Driving, : TT fi T1 fl Tl fl
Saddle and : ' 11 n\ r \
General Purpose UUHUUU
FOR SALE OR EXCHANGE.
whorsesToardedti
C. & P. TELEPHONE.
DUANE H.~MOE, Prop’r,
TOWSON, Md.
Oct 13—ly
C. Has always on hand
100 HEAD OF MCLEB
all purposes, weighing -- "™
from 900 to 1,400 lbs.
Also, fine lot GENERAL UTILITY HORSES
for farm uae.
Also, fine COACH TEAMS, TROTTERS, SAD
DLERB, Runabout, Combination and High
Knee-Acting COBB.
HORSES HANDLED AND BROKEN.
sWHorses boarded during the winter.
E. COX, SOIT&CO., Prop’rs
Successors to E. E. McCleary,
TOWSON, Md.
fWPersons coming from Baltimore will take
Towson car. Both phones. (Sept.22—ly
JpttßJCcXXanexmß.
BACTAfTfi^OLD^STiMK
REBUILT SINCE THE FIRE.
NEW HOUSE FULL of NEW GOODS.
Wm. D. Randall,
410 East Baltimore Street,
Near Holliday Street, BALTIMORE, Md.
VSOUULI AND BHIII DEALER IN
STAPLE AND FANCY
lillT
—AND FINEST BRANDS OF
WINES, LIQUORS aid CIGARS,
CANNED GOODS, Ao.
BEBT FACILITIES for supplying goods at
MOST REASONABLE PRICES, and with the
greatest dispatch.
A call respectfully solicited, and tatltfaction at
to prices andquality of good* quaranUtd.
Mob. 81—ly
PARR BROS.
DRUGGISTS
COVANSTOWN, Md.
Great Rheumatic Cure, Rheumlgo.
Price 50c. Cures It in all its forms. Send for trial
bottle. No benefit no pay. Judge for yourself.
IWYour wants solicited for Pure Drugs and
Chemicals.
Choice Hne of Hair Brushes, Combs, Perfumery,
Proprietary Medicines, etc., at reasonable prices.
PreteripUont Properly Compounded.
We also carry a line of Glass, Putty, Ready
Mixed Paint, Oil, Turpentine, Lead, Colors In
Oil, Paint Brushes,eto.. Hardware, Nails, Locks,
Hinges, Files, Chisels, Knives, Whips, Bakes.
Poultry Wire, Shovels, Hoes, Spades, etc.
JVQuotations cheerfully furnished.^*
PARR BROS., Govans, Md.
Apl. 28—ly
KEMPEL & ABIIGER
1 tailors s •
14 N. diaries Street,
Next to new RAO. Building. BALTIMORE.
SUITS FROM $20.00 UP.
JanJSotNov.il
$7.000 TOL —*
On first mortgages on real estate, in sums of
SI,OOO and upwards. Apply to
JAMES KELLEY.
Attorney at Law,
July £B. -tf. Smedley Bow. Towson, Md.
MY NEIGHBOR.
My neighbor was a wldder, an’ she bed a run
down farm.
An ’ her cows au’ pigs an’ chickens done a mighty
lot o' harm
To my fields adjlnin' an’ I stood it quite awhile,
TUI I wouldn’t be lmpoaed on In no such kind of
style.
So I looked my very maddest es I walked np to
her door.
Till she looked up at me smllla’ while a-washln’
up the floor.
An’ her cheeks was red es roses an’ her hair es
black es night;
I forgot to scoldan’ sass her, fer she seemed so
sweet an’ bright.
Bat my hand was to the plow now, an’ it wouldn’t
never do
To forgit them depredations jes’ by lookin’ at ber
shoe.
So I gathered np my anger an’ I said, “Now, Mrs.
Brown,”
An’ my tone put out her eyes’ light an’ the lashes
they feu down.
Bat I ain’t no man for foolin’, and I went right
on to say
How her pigs et all my melons an’ her oows et
tons of hay;
How ber chickens scratched my corn out, an’ I
wouldn’t hev it so,
Gittla’ harder all the time, like a mad man wiU,
yon know.
Then the widder she looked np, with a teardrop
on her obeek.
An’ • somethin’ in her throat that wouldn’t let
her speak.
But she sobbed an* cried out in a kind o’ teary
tone.
That she bed no one to help her, an’was poor an’
all alone.
An’ my hand was off the plow then an’ a-reaehin
out for hern,
I bed learnt a suddent lesson that I never
thought I’d learn.
Well, my aooldin’ was a failure, seein’ what I
thought to do.
For her pigs an’ cows are all here, an* the win
der's with ’em. too.
THE UNEXPECTED.
“Dear me!’’
Mrs. Hamilton rose swiftly from
her seat at the sewing-machine and
hurried into the hall to answer the
telephone bell. A few moments la*
ter she came back and resumed her
work.
“Dear me!”she said again. “It
is so vexations, when I told him we
had plenty of cold meat. Partridges
are dear now, too, for they are out of
season. And I did want to get this
dress of Gracie’s done before dark.”
She stitched for a few moments
longer. Then gathering up her
work she folded it away in her large
work basket..
“If I am to cook partridges for
supper I must have a coal fire. So,”
glancing at the clock, “I must get it
under way at once. William is al
ways punctual when he is bringing
home anything he especially likes for
his supper.”
She reproached herself almost in
stantly for this remark.
“Of course he likes a variety; why
shouldn’t he have it when he works
hard to supply all our needs? He
grudges me nothing—why should I
be vexed over this little extra cook
ing?”
Her annoyance was but temporary,
therefore, and when she heard her
husband’s step in the rhft -flUi VIT
rue !00l oX‘the stairs and called up to
him cheerily:
“Bring your partridges down here,
William. I’m all ready for them,
and the fire is burning splendidly.”
Receiving no reply, she went back
into the kitchen. He had not heard
her, but he would be down directly,
she said to herself. She went into
the dining-room and turned the gas
higher. He might come through it,
and it would not do for him to stum
ble against the table.
A few moments later her husband
joined her. His voice was cold.
“Why are you down here?” he
asked in a displeased tone.
“I wanted to be all ready for your
partridges. Where are they ?’ ’
‘ * Partridges ! What do you mean ?
When did I say anything about
partridges?”
“Not two hours ago. You called
me up and said you would bring
home partridges for supper. And so
I came down to have everything in
readiness. They can’t be cooked in
a moment.”
“You will not be troubled by them
to-night. I said nothing about par
tridges.”
“You certainly did. I heard you
distinctly. You said —”
“I said I intended to bring home
Partridge, George Partridge. And
I must say I expected to find you up
stairs instead of pottering around
down here.”
“You must explain my mistake to
him. He is a sensible man. He
will understand why I was not there
to receive him.”
Mr. Hamilton’s face relaxed a
little. “Partridges? I can’t think
how you could confound the two,” he
said.
“I thought I understood, you, but
never mind now. You must go back
up stairs at once. Send the children
down in a few moments, please. I’m
afraid they are not quite tidy.”
“Tidy!” he exclaimed in a tone
which brought a swift color into his
wife’s cheeks —“tidy I Well,” mov
ing toward the door, “I’ll send them
down and you must get off that cali
co dress.”
“I’ll change it before he sees me.
Go np and stay with him, do. I
must alter the table and get up a
different meal altogether.
“It seems as if a man never could
bring home his friends and find
things as they ought to be,” muttered
Mr. Hamilton, leaving the room in
evident ill-temper.
At the close of the evening, after
the departure of the guest, it became
plain to Mrs. Hamilton that his dis
pleasure had not been materially less
ened by the appetizing supper she
had prepared nor by the pains she
had taken with her own personal ap
pearance. He stopped suddenly be
fore her after pacing up and down
the room:
“When I bring home a man like
Partridge, a man of brains and educa
tion, it is strange that you can’t ap
pear as if you knew what he was
talking about. If you don’t know
anything about history, for pity’s
sake need you say so ? I’d read un
til I did know something if I were in
your place !”
The tone as well as the words
seemed brutal to Mrs. Hamilton. She
controlled herself by a great effort.
“I would like to read. I would
like to be a thoroughly well-read wo
man. But with the house and the
children and the sewing and the
cooking, I really cannot get the
time.”
“Fudge! Nonsense! Where there
is a will there is away.”
“Not always.”
Mr. Hamilton resumed his restless
pacing of the room. “I’d find time
to know something about my own
country. I guess!” he declared
finally.
Mrs. Hamilton got np to leave the
room. There was still an hour’s
work to be done down stairs, she
said.
“Fudge! Nonsense!” retorted
her husband.
A few evenings later Mr. Hamil
ton came home to his supper at the
usual hour. He opened the door
with his latch key and found himself
in an unlighted hall.
“Clara I” he called.
“Yes. What is it?”
“The gas isn’t lighted and the
hall is as dark as a pocket.”
No response came from the sewing
room at the end of the hall, from
which a faint stream of light issued.
Stumbling toward it Mr Hamilton
uttered an exclamation of surprise as
he pushed the door open. In the
one large easy chair sat his wife.
Upon the table beside her was a
shaded lamp. In her hand was a
large book and upon its pages her
eyes were fixed. She did not look
up when he entered the room and
walked up to the table.
After a moment’s stealthy scrutiny
of her face he turned away. He
went back into the hall and struck a
match noisily and lighted the gas.
Then, feeling his way, he went down
stairs. Instead of the bright, cheer
ful dining-room, with the table at
tractively spread for the evening
meal, he found darkness.
Uttering a purposely loud excla
mation of disgust, he went into the
kitchen. Here, too, was darkness.
Striking several matches he at last
succeeded in reaching the gas. He
rubbed his eyes when the strong
light filled the room. In the sink
were the breakfast dishes, unwashed ;
on the table were plates of broken
food ; on the stove were the unwash
ed kettles and pans.
Mr. Hamilton strode through the
cold room and called to his wife :
“Clara! What has happened
down here? Has the range given
out ? —Where is supper ?”
No reply came. He hurried up
stairs breathing.
“Clara, what’s the matter?”
Mrs. Hamilton turned a page and
read with absorbed attention.
“Clara?” shouted her husband
from the dnnrßpair. -
him for a moment.
“Not so loud, please!” she said,
returning to her book.
“What’s the matter? Clara, I say,
what has happened to the range!”
Mrs. Hamilton turned another
page.
A sudden fear seized upon her hus
band. Insanity ! She had lost her
senses.
He stole softly across the carpet
and grasped the book she held.
“Don’t!” she said. “Pray go
away. You are interrupting me.”
“Clara ! Are you sick, or are you
crazy?”
“Sick? No. Go away, do. I
am so interested.”
Her tone was natural. Mr. Ham
ilton discarded his momentary theory
of insanity. His voice became more
imperative.
“It is supper time ! where are the
children? Where is the supper?
Clara,” loudly, “where is the sup
per?”
Mrs. Hamilton partially closed her
book and looked at him.
‘ ‘The supper ? You said the sup
per ?”
“I did!”
“Well,” yawning, I suppose it is
getting late, but I must finish this
book. I don’t care about food, but
I do want to know who succeeded to
the throne after —’ ’
“The throne be hanged 1” inter
rupted Mr. Hamilton. “Where are
the children?”
“The children? Let me see.
Oh, I remember! You’ll find them
at your sister’s. I—”
“At Helen’s. Why in time did
you send them there?”
Mrs. Hamilton resumed her read
ing. Four days for housekeeping,
two for my reading,” she said.
Mr. Hamilton stared at her for a
moment. Then he burst into a hear
ty laugh.
“I see ! I understand !” he said.
He left the room still laughing.
He whistled as he went down to the
kitchen.
In a few moments his wife joined
him.
“I’ll see to things down here,
while you go for the children,” she
said; “but, William, before you go,
tell me this: Is it possible for a wo
man to keep up her education while
she is doing housework, mending,
sewing, receiving callers and making
calls, etc?”
“I was a brute that night, Clara.
Of course, you know more than most
women do.”
“No,” sadly, “I have not kept up
as I should. But I mean to, William.
The children must wear plainer cloth
ing, and so must their mother, for
their mother must not be an igno
ramus.”
“And their father must not re
quire such a vast amount of cooking
as he has in the past. He must be
content with simpler meals.”
“The cooking is more important
than the frills, the latest sleeves etc.
The time for reading must be taken
from the unimportant matters. ’ ’
Mr. Hamilton thought with a keen
regret of the work he had so often
thoughtlessly made for the patient
woman who stood beside him. He
stopped and kissed her with a tender
ness that brought quick tears to ber
eyes.
“Two heads are better than one.
We’ll talk it over by and by. In
the meantime, help me to begin the
New Year by giving me bread and
milk to-night. The children will
like it, and so will their father.
Mr. Hamilton went after the chil
TOWSON, MD., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 10. 1906.
dren presently. As he passed a
church he saw a multitude of people
entering it.
“The Old Year out —the New
Year in !” he thought.
He walked on with new purposes
forming in his mind. The New Year
should be different from the Old—
there should be more time found for
the enjoyment of life. Things should
be made easier for his wife: they
would make life higher and holier.
It should be a New Year —a year of
love to God and love to man.
He spoke of these thoughts, that
were stirring him so strangely, that
evening. He was alone with his
wife. She listened with sympathetic
interest. She said little, but her few
words satisfied and cheered him.
He arose and stood by the window
when the clock rang out the year.
Soon the worshippers in the churches
filled the streets. Something of the
solemnity of the hoar passed from
them to him. He looked up into the
deep mysterious realm of starry
space, and a strange new sense of
companionship came to him.
Presently the sound of footsteps in
the street died away. All was still
again.
The Old Year out! The New
Year in he said. Thank God for the
desire to make it a better year !
His heart was full as he turned
away from the window. ,
The vision of the past grieved him
sorely, but again he was comforced.
“The Lord is thy keeper. He
that keepeth thee will not slumber.”
— Zion's Herald.
HANDLING MEN.
Business men often fail because
they do not know how to handle
men. They can do their own work
all right, but they are failures when
it comes to directing others. They
lack tact, diplomacy.
Many men antagonize others; they
lack patience, lose temper, fly to
pieces over little things. And no
man is a good leader who cannot con
trol himself.
A great many business men seem
to think that it takes a deal of driv
ing, scolding, fault finding, to get
the best out of others. It is, how
ever, just the opposite. Employees
never give up their best in response
to forcing methods.
I know a young man who promises
to be a leader in his line who is as
quiet and gentlemanly in his methods
as a modest woman. He never raises
his voice, never gets angry. When
"an < yPPl°y ee Dee ds correcting, instead
ofscoft in g or na gg in S he sits ri B ht
down just how
to do the thing. He tries
them out of their difficulty, not to
confuse them. He does not need to
scold, because everybody respects him
admires him and knows that he is
always trying to do the fair thing, to
give a square deal, that he wants
only what is just right and there is
nothing arbitrary in his methods.
The result is he does not need to
storm around his establishment and
use abusive, profane language. He
knows there is a stronger force, a bet
ter way than that. The result is
that he has perfect discipline.
Not one would think of taking ad
vantage of him or trying to deceive
him, because he is so kind, square,
true.
I know another man in business
near by him who adopts just the op
posite method. He storms and
swears, scolds, nags, goes through
his establishment like a bull through
a china shop, making everybody feel
mean and disgraceful. Nobody rer
spects him. He rules by brute force,
keeping everybody cowed and afraid
of him. They obey him and let him
impose upon them in order to avoid a
scene or for fear they will lose their
positions. If an office boy or sten
ographer makes a little mistake he
will go all to pieces, fly into a rage
and make it very uncomfortable for
everybody about him.
People waiting in the outer office
often hear loud talking and most abu
sive language in his private office.
But he is not nearly as successful as
his quiet, unobtrusive neighbor.
He never thinks of recognizing one
of his employees on the street.
The other man always lifts his hat
to the humblest girl in his employ
and has a pleasant smile for every
body, because he feels an interest in
everybody and they all love him.—
Success.
MORE THAN LIKELY.
John Kendrick Bangs was discuss
ing in a New York club a case of
plagiarism, says the New York Tri
bune.
“The man admitted that plagiar
ism was suspected of him,” said Mr.
Bangs smiling. “He almost admit
ted it was proved. He reminded me
of a Yonkers boy I used to know.
“This boy said to his chum one
morning:
“I hid under the parlor sofa last
night to hear what young Softleigh
would say to my sister.’
“ ‘Well, what did he say?’ the
other boy asked.
“ ‘He only talked religion and pol
itics, and he kicked me about thirty
times on the head.’
“ ‘He knew you were there, I
guess,’ said the second boy.
“ ‘l’m afraid he suspected it.’”
Ambiguous—Jiggs: “Why did
Jelkinson give up his club when he
got married?” Biggs: “Well, he
said his wife could always find him
there when he went out nights.”
Pat —“What be yer charge for a
funeral notice in yer paper?” Edi
tor —“Half a crown an inch.” Pat
—“Good heavens ! An’ me poor
brother was six feet high !”
It is strange how a man’s duty ap
pears so plain to you and how he
looks right at it, and has such poor
eyesight he can’t see it.
Now that the football season is
open, perhaps those massacres over
in Russia won’t seem so gory.
ROBBING A BANK SAFE.
“One day in the fall of 1874,”
said an old retired detective, “one of
the most finished and successful
bank barglars that ever used a drill
in this country was walking across
Sixth avenue, New York, enjoying
his parole and the mellow sunshine.
Tnere were a whole lot of indict
ments hanging over him, of course,
but they didn’t worry him any, for
he happened to be on pretty fair
terms with some of the men attached
to the municipal administration at
that time. As he swung along he
was accosted by a prosperous looking
man whom he did not know, although
the prosperous looking citizen ad
dressed the burglar by his right
name. The crook, finding after
some stalling that the man who knew
his name wasn’t a detective, took
him into a cafe and asked him some
things.
“'ln the first place, how did you
know me?” he inquired of the strang
er.
“Wed, it appeared that the bur
glar had been pointed out to the
stranger by a detective who was so
shady tha*. he afterward did time for
surreptitiously extending aid and
comfort to the enemy, one of the old
time bands of New York crooks.
“ ‘All right,’ said the cracksman
then. ‘Novr, I don’t suppose you
are seeking my acquaintanceship for
the sake of being introduced into so
ciety or for the enjoyment of my
winning ways. What’s your lay ?’
“Then the stranger up and told
the burglar what his graft was.
“ ‘l’m the cashier of a bank a bit
up the state,’ said he to the burglar.
‘The directors don’t know anything
about it, but I’m short in my ac
counts. There’s only one way out
of it. The bank will have to be rob
bed by professional cracksmen. That
will let me out, and in addition I'll
expect to get my rakeoff from the
robbery. I want you to rob the hank.
You’ll find $35,000 in cash in it on
the night you arrange the job. I’ll
attend to that. Of course I want my
bit out of that, SIO,OOO at least. I’ve
always heard that you’re square in
these divisions of plunder, and there
fore I’ll trust you to hand me my
share after you’ve done the job for
putting you on to it.’
“ ‘This sounds good enough to
eat,’ replied the cracksman. ‘Fact
is, it’s so sweet that it’s almost cloy
ing. Now, I’ve heard your proposi
tion. You give me a couple of days
to investigate you, and then we’ll
talk business.’
“They arranged another meeting
at the same place a couple of days
later, and in the meantime the cracks- 1
nffnrVhM Se f ac ili ties were t^ie best,
He f ° und ; hat ;
his man reallywa9^£^^ aa b le s aa
up state bank in atupPßlfPTßfW"
than an hour’s run from New York.
So when the cashier called at the ap
pointed time the burglar was ready
to talk business.
“ ‘You’ll have a hard night’s
work,’ said the cashier, ‘for in order
to avert suspicion I’ll have to leave
the vaults and safes locked tighter’n
a drum, as usual. You’ll need sever
al assistants.’
“ ‘That’s my end of it,’ replied
the cracksman. ‘You just let me
handle those little details. Every
man to his trade. They don’t make
’em so strong that I can’t get into
’em.’
“Then all of the details were ar
ranged, and the robbery was fixed
for a certain night in the following
week. The cashier was especially
solicitous that he should get his share
of the proceeds of the crib cracking.
The cracksman assured him that if
there was $35,000 in the job $25,000
would be enough for himself and his
associates and the cashier would get
the rest. On the night fixed the
cracksman and three of his best men
went up to the town and pulled off
the job. It was a matter of four
hours before the gang after overpow
ering and gagging the watchman got
into the main safe. They'found it
empty. Then they tackled the
smaller safes. These, too, were
empty. The top notch cracksman
was pretty mad, naturally.
“He had been played for a good
thing, and he knew it. The cashier
had simply looted the bank himself,
and the robbery which he had ar
ranged was to cover up his own
trail. There have been Napoleons
of finance without number developed
from among bank cashiers, but I
never heard of a neater job than
that.
“Of course the cracksman and his
pals had nothing for it but to pack
their kits and drill back to New
York. They weren’t, of course, in
a position to say anything about how
they’d been done. The top notch
cracksman had to read in the after
noon papers the lurid accounts of
how the bank had been robbed of
cash and securities ‘approximating
SIOO,OOO in amount’ and grind his
teeth and cuss. The bank’s failure
was announced a few days later.
“The cashier? Oh, within a doz
en years he died a beggar on the
streets of New York.”
“Yes,” young Mr. Timmid ad
mitted; “I’ve always been bashful
among the girls.”
“But why should you be?” asked
Miss Yern encouragingly.
“I can’t help myself.”
“Gracious!” she exclaimed, purs
ing up her lips. “If you don’t help
yourself, how can you expect to get
any?”
“What is reform?” asked the
argumentative man. “Reform,” an
swered the world-weary one, “often
consists in merely compelling a man
to stop doing things his way and
making him do them yours.”
“I understand you’ve been con
demned,” gurgled the river as it
hurried by. “Yes,” replied the old
bridge, “and I suppose I’ve been
judged by my piers.”
TAMENESS OF WILD ANIMALS.
That wild animals become extreme
ly tame is well known. The wild
quail of Southern California will en
ter gardens and nest there, and in the
protected season I have seen a flock
stand in a country road, a jaunty
male between them, and my horse
not twenty feet away, moving, only
when I moved, and then with reluc
tance.
Several years ago some of the resi
dents of the channel islands of South
ern California introduced a number
of blacktailed deer, which were pro
tected to such an extent that in time
they discovered that they were privi
leged characters, and assumed nearly
the absolute contempt for human be
ings held by the sacred bulls of India,
that crowd men and women from the
road. They persisted in entering
gardens, day and night, destroying
the plants, and finally to locate them
the dwellers on the island had bells
fastened to them. One buck made
his home near the town of Cabrillo,
and walked about the place and over
the hill with the freedom of a dog.
When a boat landed off the pier the
buck ran down to greet the newcom
ers and share their lunch, and be
come a welcome guest at barbecues
and lobster and clambakes.
Nearly all animal life is protected
at this island. I have counted half a
hundred bald eagles in an eleven-mile
run, have seen them take a large fish
from the waters within easy gunshot,
and they build their nests on pinacles
that are not difficult of approach.
The sea birds are equally tame Gulls
gather in flocks a few feet from those
who feed them; in the winter flocks
of cormorants swim into the bays and
and are so tame that they merely
divide when a boa t passes, and fish
ermen often find that the cormorants
take off their bait almost as fast as
they can put it on. Gulls dash at
bait, and I have seen a long-winged
bird resembling the petrel follow my
line under water at a cast, using its
wings to fly along and take a bait,
and at times scores of sea birds are
seen inshore feeding upon small
shrimps, paying no attention to ob
servers photographing them.
The most remarkable illustration
of tameness to be seen here is that of
the sea lions. For ages the animals
have held possession of a mass of rock
on the shore of the islands. A few
years ago many were killed by van
dals, but laws were passed, and for a
number of years the sea lions have
been protected, and the rookery has
increased in size until a split has re
cently occurred and another settle
ment has been established halfway
up the island.
It has been the custom for years
for fishermen in cleaning their fish
to toss the refuse into the bay, and
mifftrtiri V^/in
coming down to the bay at this time
to dine thereupon. At first only one
or two came; now a band of two
large bulls and several females make
their headquarters at the bay, or
spend most of their time there, con
stituting a valuable sanitary corps,
as they eat every fragment of fish,
the gulls joining in the feast. When
not feeding, the sea lions pass the
time lying within a few feet of the
beach, sleeping or playing, the fe
males and young leaping from the
water and going through various
tricks of interest to the looker-on.
But a few feet away from the sea
lions are the boat stands of the fish
ermen and the boatmen and boats
are moving out and over the sea lions
constantly; yet they are apparently
oblivious to the men, who never mo
lest them. This has had a peculiar
result. The enormous animals have
become so tame that they almost al
low the men to touch them, and
readily come out upon the shore to
feed from their hands. It so hap
pened that I was upon the sands
, when no sea lions were in sight, and
upon asking a boatman where they
were, he began to whistle, as though
calling for a dog, and to call, “Here,
Ben I” repeating the call several
times, whereupon out from the an
chored boats appeared not only Ben,
but two large bull sea lions, which
must have weighed half a ton, fol
lowed by two or three smaller fe
males. —Scientific American.
HOW SHE FOOLED HER LAWYER.
A certain lawyer famed for high
charges, had incurred the enmity of
an old lady on account of the same.
Wishing to get even with him, she
consulted him about drafting her will.
As she was a very wealthy old lady,
without near relatives she had many
charitable associations to benefit and
the accurate draft of the will required
much patience, great skill and time.
Among the provisions she made a
generous bequest to this lawyer and
nominated him executor. After the
execution of the will she called for
her bill, whereupon the lawyer, with
the vision of ample fees in the pros
pective settlement of the estate and
the memory of the generous bequest,
told the old lady that under the cir
cumstances he should charge nothing,
but finally, to satisfy her business
scruples, made out a receipt in full to
date for si, whereas the smallest sum
he could have properly charged would
have been SIOO. The old lady
marched home with her will, set her
self to work, copied it out carefully
word for word, leaving out the be
quest to the lawyer and nominating a
new executor. In the course of time
she died, and the disgust of the law
yer at the contents of the will was so
great that he inadverently let out the
secret to the huge delight of his
brother lawyers.
Larry (cautiously)—Would you
say “yes” if I asked you to marry
me ?
Anna (also cautiously)—Would
you ask me to marry you if you
thought I’d say “yes?”
It is hard for the man who enjoys
three square meals a day to pose as a
pessimist.
THE REAL LINCOLN.
For many yearsjit has been the
fashion to call Mr. Lincoln homely.
He was very tall and very thin. His
eyes were deep sunken, his skin of a
sallow pallor, his hair coarse, black
and unruly. Yet he was neither un
graceful nor awkward nor ugly. His
large features fitted his large frame,
and his large hands and feet were but
right on a body that measured six
feet four inches. His was a sad and
thoughtful face, and from boyhood
he had carried a load of care. It is
small wonder that when alone or ab
sorbed in thought the face should
take on deep lines, the eyes appear
as if seeing something beyond the
vision of other men and the shoulders
stoop as though they, too, were bear
ing a weight. But in a moment all
would be changed. The deep eyes
could flash or twinkle merrily with
humor or look out from under over
hanging brows as they did upon the
Five Points children in kindliest gen
tleness. So, too, in public speaking,
when his tall body rose to its full
height, with head thrown back and
his face transfigured with the fire and
earnestness of his thought, he would
answer Douglas in the high, clear
tenor that came to him in the heat of
debate, carrying his ideas so far out
over listening crowds. And later,
during the years of war, when he
pronounced with noble gravity the
words of his famous addresses, not
one in the throngs that heard him
could truly say that he was other
than a handsome man.
It has been the fashion, too, to say
that he was slovenly and careless in
his dress. This is also a mistake.
His clothes could not fit smoothly on
his gaunt and bony frame. He was
no tailor’s figure of a man, but from
the first he clothed himself as well as
his means allowed and in the fashion
of the time and place.
In reading the grotesque stories of
his boyhood, of the tall stripling
whose trousers left exposed a length
of shin, it must be remembered not
only how poor he was, but that he
lived on the frontier, where other
boys, less poor, were scarcely better
clad. In Vandalis the blue jeans he
wore were the dress of his compan
ions as well, and later, from Spring
field days on, clear through his presi
dency, bis costume was the usual
suit of black broadcloth, carefully
made and scrupulously neat. He
cared nothing lor style. It did not
matter to him whether the man with
whom he talked wore a coat of the
latest cut or owned no coat at all. It
was the man inside the coat that in
terested him. —Helen Nicolay in St.
Nicholas.
ST. BERNARD DOGB.
The beautiful, stately St. Bernard
ft*-? Tin-1
nard hospice or monastery, built al
most at the crest of a mountain pass
in the Alps, over eight thousand feet
about sea-level. This hospice wa,
foundedin 962 by Bernard de Menthins
a nobleman of the neighborhood, for
the benefit of pilgrims journeying to
Rome. It now affords sleeping ac
commodations for eighty travelers,
and can shelter three hundred. The
monastery is connected by telephones
with stations in the valleys on either
side, from which the monks about
are warned when travelers are on
their way to the mountain. There
are a dozen or so of these Augustin
ian monks, all young and strong;
their work is, with the aid of large
dogs, to rescue travelers in danger of
being lost in the cold and snow.
These dogs were called the St. Ber
nard and they gradually became gen
eral in Switzerland, and in iB6O
caught the attention of English trav
elers, who imported several into
Great Britain, where they were ex
hibited and greatly admired for their
size and beauty. Others were intro
duced, and the St. Bernard soon be
came the popular big dog, a popular
ity which has ever since gone on in
creasing. As most fancied today, he
is an immense, orange-colored dog,
marked with white on face, neck,
breast, feet and tip. of tail. The
head is massive and imposing, the
muzzle strong and square; the legs
are straight, with large feet and deep
claws. The coat of the rough variety
is of medium length, and not too
curly; while the smooth variety has
a short and wiry coat. Many of the
finest St. Bernard dogs measure
thirty inches in height at the shoul
der, and weigh over 150 pounds.
They occupy a great deal of space;
yet they are so handsome, and, as a
rule, so good-tempered, that they are
greatly admired as pets.
If you are fortunate enough to own
one of these beautiful dogs, you will
admire his dignity and kindliness the
more, now that you know the story
of his family. You can imagine
those other dogs, going on ahead of
the wearied travelers, showing the
way through the deep snow drifts,
and bringing them safely, at last, to
food and shelter.
DENTISTS AS PATIENTS.
“Two of the most troublesome pa
tients I have are members of my own
profession,” said a dentist in discuss
ing the tortures of teeth. “Strange
to say,” he continued, “many den
tists, whether from natural defects or
early negligence, have exceedingly
poor teeth, and as no practitioner can
attend to his own we exchange ser
vices. If any of the patients of these
two capable D. D. S.’s are revengeful
of disposition it would do them good
to see them in the chair. All men
are much more difficult subjects for
dentistry than women, according to
my own experience, but the way the
two in question wriggle, writhe,
groan and cuss under the ordinary
operations should be most gratifying
to any one who has suffered at their
hands.”
It is seldom that you see poverty
more aggravated than in the case of
those who are dissatisfied with their
lot.
ESTABLISHED 1850.
HAKE THE BEST OF IT.
The longer one lives, the more cer
tainty there is that nothing in this
world is ever exactly in accord with
the mind of women. If she plans a
house and bullies an architect into
letting her have her own way, she is
not well settled in it before in her in
ner consciousness she knows that the
man was right and she was wrong.
If she is a genuine woman, she never
mentions the fact. She keeps up
a-thinking and finally decides on a
different inside arrangement, or may
be it is the outer one in fault, when
time is ripe, she springs it on her
family. In that way she gets around
the acknowledgement of her mistake.
If she buys a new fall hat, by the
time it is home she sees her fatal
mistake. No one can blame her, for
they grow worse and worse to look
at as the years go by. But her hat
is “too up and at it,” “it makes her
look common,” “it is too fancy,”
“it is too big or too little or too flat
or too high or it costs too much and
she daren’t tell her husband what
she paid for it.” Without the un
happiness caused by hats, women
might sometimes be at a loss for sub
ject matter to inward rave about.
And then dresses and their makers
are grievances hard to bear. And if
she either is unable to do her own
work or does not want to do it, she
need never go afield for worry. She
can worry night and day ; she can
talk her husband deaf, dumb and
blind; she can keep her neighbors’
ears hot with the iniquitos perform
ances in her kitchen. No girl or wo
man doing housework for a considera
tion can do well enough to stop her
tongue. But let the girl “give no
tice’ ’ and then the truth of the saying
that “blessings brighten as they take
their flight,” will be proved anew.
And her discontent extends be
yond the bounds which ought to be
fixed for women to reach and be
laughed at for her folly. She fur
tively looks at the daughter she
adores and says mentally “that red
head of hers comes from her father’s
mother; heaven knows I hope she
won’t turn out to look like her;”
and she picks flaws in her own child.
And she will resent the slowly ex
tending bald spot which has away
of appearing on the beads of the best
of men, and she will delight in talk
ing about a man who is so lovely and
tall when her own dearie is scarcely
taller than herself. Well it is for
her if she keeps herself in hand and
does not let her thoughts get away
with her common sense.
The only thing to do is to make
the best of things in this world. We
cannot expect absolute happiness nor
absolute perfection here. Those
treasures are laid up for us. Here
we must struggle and put up with
imperfectio^B^ur^umg^|^i||j^|jgg
those about us and in ourselves.
When we get so that we can do that
pleasant thing unconsciously, un
doubtedly we shall be so very desira
ble that the angels in heaven will
clamor for our society, for we shall
be so much above our former com
panions that they will not enjoy our
companionship nor be theirs.
THE VALUE OF TIME.
Successful men have ever been
misers of their time. To get rid of
time-wasters, to keep them from
sapping that which gold cannot buy,
is one of the greatest problems with
every busy man of affairs.
J. Pierpont Morgan, perhaps the
greatest living financier, seems to
have solved it successfully. He is
always at his office promptly at half
past nine o’clock in the morning, and
rarely leaves until five o’clock in the
evening. It has been estimated that
his time is actually worth twenty
dollars a minute, but he values it at
much more than this himself, and it
is difficult to get five minutes with
him unless one has very important
business to transact.
He does not shut himself up in a
private office, guarded by several
secretaries and bluffers, as many
great business men seem to be obliged
to do in order to protect themselves.
He sits at his desk in an open room,
in which are many other desks and
workers, where he manipulated enor
mous combinations and deals with
vast plans. Yet he is nearly always
accessible to those who wish to see
him for business purposes, but woe
to the man who attempts to approach
him during business hours without
sufficient reason. Mr. Morgan has a
marvelous instince for measuring men
and finding out instantly what they
want. There is no beating about the
bush with him. He strikes for the
marrow instantly, and thus saves
much valuable time. He never
allows himself to be made a victim by
that numerous class of people who
have no particular business of their
own, but like to “drop in” and waste
the precious minutes of a busy man.
The special mania of an insane
man was the belief that he himself,
was a poached egg. One day he
said to the keeper, “I would like a
piece of toast.” As it was not meal
time, the keeper asked, “Why do
you want a piece of toast?” “Be
cause I am tired,” answered the pa
tient, “and I’d like to sit down.”
“Do you remember the old fishing
hole where we used to have such
sport in our boyhood days?” “I
surely do. And if I could equip it
with a sofa and an electric fan, and
have a buffet handy, I wouldn’t ob
ject to passing an afternoon among
the old familiar scenes.”
Irate Father —“Here, you sir!
didn’t I tell you never to enter this
house again?” “No, Sir,” replied
his daughter’s persistent suitor.
“You said not ‘cross your threshold,’
so I climbed in the window.”
The girl who is going to be
married in December says there has
been a great deal written about love,
but nobody has yet done full justice
to the subject.