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VOL. 59. WHOLE No. 2288.
Second National Bank TOWSON, :&£<!- SJLITE YOXJR EARNINGS. it is always possible to save a portion of your earnings if you form an earnest desire to do so. Systematize your work of saving by starting an account with the SEC OND NATIONAL BANK of Towson. Deposit your money, and pay your bills by check. Your bank book and returned checks will make a record for you, and tell the story of your earnings and expenses. Eventually you will learn to decrease your expenses and increase your bank account. It will be a real pleasure to have you as one of our depositors, and to help you all we can. Start with us now. -lOPPICBHS! Thomas W. offutt, Elmer J. Cook, t vioe'Presioents, thos. j. Meads, President. Harrison Rider, ’ Cashier. THOMAB W. OFFUTT. W. BERNARD DUKE, HENRY C. LONONEOKER, Elmer j. Cook, Wm. A. Lee, Z. Howard Isaao, HARRIBON RIDER, CHAB. H. KNOX, NOAH E. OFFUTT, JOHN I. YELLOTT, W. GILL SMITH, JOHN V. SLADE. Jan. 26—ly. ‘ Miscellaneous. Muller & Yearley, HARNESS, TRUNKS and BAGS, 343 N. Gay Street, BALTIMORE!, Md Blankets AND Robes. In addition to Regular Line we offer BIG LINE OF MILL SAMPLES AT BARGAIN PRICES. Blankets From (1.00 up. Lap Robes “ $2.00 >r Wit will pay you to see them. Special induce ments to early buyers. PRPP good whip with each pppp rIUJb BLANKET. A UiL ESTABLISHED 1870. MAIER’S PREPARED PAinS ARB STRICTLY PURE LEAD AND ZINC PAINTS. GUARANTEED EQUAL TO THE BEST. -MANUFACTURED BY JOHN G. MAIER’S SONS, 163-155 N GAY STREET, Cor Frederick Street. BALTIMORE, Md. Both Phones. I July 11—ly Geo. W. Kirwan & Co. 13 N. CHARLES STREET, Between Baltimore and Fayette Streets, BALTIMORE, Md„ | HABERDASHERS I 4 | SHIRT MAKERS. | SHIRTS TO MEASURE-Tbi a^eiHirtment ed special care. All shirts are made on our own oremises and our FIT AND FINISH have made Ss well known as a SH RT HOUSE. It you have not tried us, do so by ordering a Sample 8 Cartwright A Warners’ English Unshrinkable Underwear has been the best for over a hundred vears and will be for a hundred years to oome. BT”BOTH PHONES. [July!—ly WILLIAM J. BIDDISON, FIRE INSURANCE AGENT. Fire, Tornado and Windstorm Poll* cles Issued. NO ASSESSMENT. —REPRESENTING— HOME FIRE INSURANCE CO. OF N. Y., Assets $20,000.000.00; GIRARD FIRE & MARINE INSURANCE CO. OF PHI LA., Assets $2,141,263.79. Office—Bel air Road and Maple Avenue. Kaspeburg p. 0., Baltimore County, Md. C. A P. and Maryland Phones. |9*A share of patronage will be appreciated. ~Dr. A. 0. McOURDY & CO., TOWSON, Md. Orders received for— ALL KINDS OF SLATE. Peach Bottom Roofing Slate, • Slabs for Walks, wL X3L Chimney Tops, AA. VST Burial Cases, aiK ■ Cemetery Slabs, ' Imposing Stones, Ac., Ac. AWCall on or address as above. (j, a p. Phone—Towson 23 R. [July 4—ly LIME! LIME! LIME,! Having resumed the business of Burning Lime, we are now prepared to FURNISH IN ANY QUANTITY Whitewashing, Building and Agricul tural Lime. SHANKLIN - & JENIFER, KILNS AT LOCH RAVEN, May 30-lyl BALTIMORE COUNTY. Md. "XT. KAUFFMAN & SON, Saddles, Harness, and stable supplies, Including Brambles’ Horse Foot Remedy, 408 KNSOK STREET, Oppo. No. 6 Engine House. BALTIMORE, Md. C. ft P. Telephone. Peo.2By M" ONEY TO LOAN—IN SUMS TO SUIT. ROBERT H. BUSSEY, Towson, Md. Feb. 10.—tf Residence CookeysviUe WLtßcellsinetmß. LtJllß FOR SALE CHEAP T At My Mill at Shawan, BALTIMORE COUNTY, Md. —AND AT My Yard at Ashland Station. N.C.R.R. BALTIMORE COUNTY, Md. 1" V/ 2 " 2" LUMBER, $lO to sls per 1,000 feet. eF“CAN CUT TO YOUR ORDER*®* Framing Lumber for Barns & Houses Also Bridge Lumber. —SHIPPING POINT— ASHLAND. BALTIMORE COUNTY, Md. Apply to H. L. CRUBE, 1009 American Building, Baltimore, Md. C. A P. Phone—724 St. Paul. or T. A. HANNA, Superintendent, Shawan, Baltimore county, Md. C. ft P. Phone—Cookey 29-11. or CHARLES FREELAND, Ashland, Baltimore county, Md. C. ft P. Phone—Cookey 35-R. M HTC • lam in market for a TIMBER I’vlt . TRACT OF WHITE OAK, CHESTNUT, Ac., Ac., 100 TO 500 ACRES. Sept. 12—3 m FRANK I. WHEELER. WILLIAM P. COL*. WHEELER”& COLE, Successors to Offutt, Emmart ft Wheeler, FIRE INSURANCE AGENTS, OFFUTT BUILDING, TOWSON, Md. Telephone—o.4P-, Towson 188. German-American Ins. Co., N. Y.; Continental Ins. Co.: Home Ins. Co. of N. Y.; Hartford Ins. Co. of Hartford*Conn.; Pennsylvania Fire Ins. Co. of Philadelphia; St. Paul Fire and Marine Ins. Co.; London and Lancashire Ins. Co.; Orient of Hartford, Conn.; Dixie, of Greensboro, N. C.; Fire Association, of Philadelphia; Royal, of Liv erpool; North State, of Greensboro, N.C.; West ern, of Pittsburg; Spring Garden, of Philadel phia; Niagara, of N. Y.: .Etna, of Hartford, Conn.; Norfolk, Norfolk, Va. Representing as we do the above named flrat olass Fire Insurance Companies and an agenoy of twenty-five years’ standing, that has so long enjoyed the confidence of the public, we respect fully solicit of the people of Baltimore county a continuation of their patronage. Oct. 24-lyl WHEELER ft COLE. EDWARD E. BURNS. FRANK BURNS. JOHN BURNS’ SONS, Funeral * Directors, TOWSON, Md, C. * P. Phono—TOWSON, 77-F. Mch 7—ly ROBERT CLARK. A. W. CLARK. LUTHERVILLE STEAM * LAUNDRY, ROBERT CLARK & SON, Prop’rs. NEWLY FITTED THROUGHOUT AND NOW READY FOR BUSINESS. Good Work and Moderate Charges. Public patronage respectfully solicited. GOODS CALLED FOR AND DELIVERED. C. ft P. Phone. Mch 7—ly JOHN TYRIE, —STEAM— MARBLE & GRANITE WORKS, . COCKKYSVILLK, Md. -ALL KINDS OF MARBLE A GRANITE MONUMENTS ▲ SPECIALTY. No charge made for showing designs either at the works or elsewhere. j AMES B. DUNPHY. Agent, Towson, Md. Sept. 26—lv W. O. B. WRIGHT, Baldwin P. 0., Baltimore County, Md., Real Estate and Collection Agency —AND— JUSTICE OF THE PEACE. - Director and Agent of the Harford Mutual I Fire Insurance Company. HPT AND SELL BEAL ESTATE. If you want to buy country property, or wish to 6ell, see me. I can help you either wav. Prompt attention given to the collection of claims. . Residence—NEAß FORK. [June 13—ly ESTABLISHED 1876. BOTH PHONES. DANI£L~ RIDER, 1001 OREENMOUNT AVENUE, BALTIMORE, Md., COMMISSION * MERCHANT For the Sale of Hay, Grain and Straw. f Orders for Mill Feed, Gluten Feed, Cotton Seed Meal, OH Cake Meat, Salt, ftc., will receive prompt attention. [Apl. 4—ly PIANOS THEM i. In Any Part of the County. - Address, JOSEPH A. NEUMAYER, Raspeburg, R. F. D., Md. C. ft P. Tel.—Hamilton 4-K. [Sept. 26-ly AE OLD-FASHIONED WOMAN. No clever, brilliant thinker, she. With college record and degree; She has not known the paths of fame. The world has never heard her name; She walks in old, long trodden ways. The valleys of the yesterdays. Home is her kingdom, love her flower— She seeks no other wand of power To make home sweet, briiig heaven near. To win a smile and wipe a tear. And do her duty day by day In her own queer place and way. Around her childish hearts are twined, As rouDd some reverend saint enshrined, And following hers the childish feet Are led to ideals true and sweet, And find all purity and good In her divlnest motherhood. She keeps her faith unshadowed sttll— God rules the world In good and 111; Men In her creed are brave and true. And women pure as pearls of dew. And life for her is high and gnmd. By work and glad endeavor spanned. This sad old earth’s a brighter place All for the sunshine of her face; Her very smile a blessing throws And hearts are happier where she goes, A gentle, clear-eyed messenger. To whisper love—thank God for her. MANIA’S BUBOLAR. He is called Maria’s burglar because I hired him on her account. As the children would say, he was not a “really” burglar. One glance at his gentle frankness, his serene respecta bility must have convinced you of that fact beyond peradventure. More over, he was my daughter’s fiance, and no decent citizen, so far as I am aware, would suffer an avowed law breaker to remain in his household in that capacity. Maria’s burglarphobia exhibited its first symptoms the night we moved into our new home. We were sleeping for the first time under its roof. Hardly had I dozed off when I felt the gentle impact of Maria’s fist in my ribs and the soft sibilance of her whisper in my ear : “Get up, John. There’s someone on our roof.” I raised my head and lis tened attentively. “There’s no one there, ’ ’ I announced definitely. Maria insisted there was; adding that there were two of them, and that one wore hob-nailed shoes. My query as to the size of the shoes met with no response. At last, to satisfy her, I arose and went to the little closet on the top floor which marks the entrance to our scuttle. In one hand Ilcarried a lamp; in the other an unloaded revolver. Twice I called “Who’s there?” and twice was I answered only by the moaning of the wind as it swept along the chimney tops. I did not raise the scuttle lid ; time for that in the morn ing. Though fully regaled with the details of my expedition Maria remain ed awake for at least four hours. She told me about it the next day. In the morning we found an old felt hat on our roof. Maria gloated. Our neighbor’s son claimed it later in the day, saying he had dropped it on our roof while playing on his own some weeks previously. Our burglars npxt appeared on the tivui jf o’olook of a frosty winter’s morning. From her trem bling place under the blanket Maria could almost distinguish the words of their conversation ; something I fail ed to accomplish, even though I stood for three whole minutes in the chilled vestibule with my ear at the front door keyhole. That we arose the next morning to find ourselves alive, our silverware intact, and our doors securely bolted, Maria was in clined to attribute to a renaiscence of age of miracles. After that we were besieged no less than three times a week; sometimes oftener. “Maria,” said I, at last, “what is it about a burglar that you fear so abjectly? If one wants to get into our place he’ll get there, never fear. Whatever he takes will be replaced by the Insurance people, anyway.” “And if he kills us where we lie I presume that will be liquidated by the insurance people as well —if either of us is here to collect it.” This in Maria’s most sarcastic manner. “So it is bodily injury you fear? Why? Am I not here?” Our hero spoke these words with calm confidence and fine fearlessness. Under the circumstances Maria’s re sponsive sniff was hardly complimen tary. Bluntly she inquired—if a bur glar saw fit to enter our room with a loaded pistol in his hand and a fero cious scowl upon his face —what would I do? “I’d jump out of bed and grapple him where he stood. I’d put my knee on his neck and throttle him until he howled for mercy. I’d pum mel him with all my might, and leave him lying inert on the floor, while I went off to fetch an ambulance in which to remove his battered carcass —that is, of course, provided he was not inconsiderate enough to take to his heels before I had time to com plete my vengence.” So that due modesty might attend my claim, I vouchsafed the opinion that all bur glars are cowards at heart. “Indeed!” said Maria. The sub limated sarcasm and skepticism con tained in that brief word determined me. My prospective son-in-law, Clarence Colburn, failed to evince instant en thusiasm over my plan, even though I offered to purchase on his behalf the real thing in the shape of a mask, a jimmy and a lantern. Before he i agreed to carry out the part I had as signed to him, I was obliged to prom ise several things. First, the wrath ( of his prospective mothei-in-law must ' be appeased by me, in case of the dis -1 covery of his identity at whatsoever expense. Secondly, my demonstra . tions of bravery must be strictly pas sive and largely oratorical. I might command him to desist; to leave the house under threat of speedy appre hension ; to abandon hi s plunder ■ where he found it —but I must not leave my place. I was not to touch the floor until he has full opportunity to clear the room. Lastly, my pistol | must remain unloaded—“in case we get too excited, you know.” These details fixed, we set Thursday as the 1 date, and prompt midnight as the hour • of our adventure. Maria was very nervous that night. Three evenings before the Sanborn house in our street had been entered and its contents removed to parts un -7 known. That very morning we had TOWSON, MD., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 14. 1908. learned of two other burglaries in our immediate vicinity. Eagerly Maria scanned the obituaries in the local journal; I fancy she was disappointed at the lack of funeral announcements. Before we finally retired she saw fit to recount all three affairs mosaically, and to remark dolefully that she was sure our turn was coming soon. “Nonsense,” said I, having left the door unlatched. The town clock bell had completed its dozen peals, and we were lying cosily in our places when there came a soft creaking on the hallway stairs, followed by the muffled tread of foot steps outside of our door. “John,” Maria whispered, “did you hear that?” “What?” I asked, fearlessly. “Some one is at our door. Go out andshoothim. Oh-h-h!” Thedoor opened softly and a circle.of light was planted on the opposite wall. Our visitor made straight for the bureau and started to fill his pockets. I rose in my place. Impressively I demanded, “What are you doing there, r-r-rascal?” For answer he flashed the light into our faces. My own was unruf fled ; smiling even. On Maria’s I saw such a look of frozen terror that I was sore tempted to abandon our experiment then and there. It was only my promise to Clarence that im pelled me to see it through. “See here, sonny,” said he, as he took my watch. ‘ ‘Get your thinking apparatus busy locating where you keep the descent things. This is junk. The stuff I got down in your dining room is enough to make any body mad. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.” “Out of my house this instant, or, by Heaven, you perish where you stand! Begone, villian. Vanish! Vamoose!” “Vamoose” was Clarence’s cue to depart. Instead of that he strode over to our bedside and dealt me a smart cuff on the ear. This was no part of the agreement, and I hastened to voice my remonstration. “Not do what?” was the answer, gruffly given. “That is funny. Ha, ha ! Keep quiet, you fossil, or I’ll run a rapid transit tunnel right through you.” A ball of fire flashed into my eyes and I felt the impact of cold steel on my forehead. “Spare us! Spare us!” came in muffled tremolo from under the blank et. “Give him that sioo you have under your pillow, John.” He did not wait for me to give it. He pushed my head aside and thrust his hand under the pillow. As the gleam of the lantern was turned aside for an instant I caught a glimpse of the pistol as it went by me. It was a tiny automatic revolver. A.*c2 I Li a Q tAsuglil a iiUiac pistol. —— - j — 1 “Give me your diamonds,” growl ed the intruder, “Quick, or I shoot.” My tongue clave to the roof of my mouth and my teeth rattled. As speedily as I could I withdrew my head under the coverlet and kept it there until the sound of retreating footsteps made known that the bur glar had gone. It was Maria’s voice that I heard as I emerged. Her tones, I confess, were slightly hysterical. “Grapple him, throttle him, grapple him ; pum mel him, throttle him, grapple him.” She said this over and over again. I did not stop long to listen. I jumped out of bed and made for the window. I called for help, and an answering whistle told me that my call had been heard. As I left the window I spied some one coming up on the run. I rushed down the stairs and ran through the hallway. On the porch I ran into a policeman. There was another man with him — held tightly. “Here’s your burglar,” said the officer. “I got him as he was com ing back. Said he came up to help you; good nerve, eh ? His partner wasn’t quite so cool about it; I saw him running away Vith a bag. He was too quick for me so I nabbed this one.” The captive removed his mask and showed us his startled, white counte nance. Yes. It was Clarence. We have tried to explain matters to Maria. Time and again we have assured her that it was all a joke per petrated for her especial benefit. No use. Each time she rewards both of us with a cool stare and asks icily: “Where, then, are my coffee pot and my silver spoons and the soup ladle ?’ ’ Besides, she invariably concludes, had Clarence been the burglar, she had small doubt that I would have grap pled him, throttled him andpummel ed him. Cold type does not repro duce the possibilities lurking in her tone. — N. Y. Tribune. The incumbent of an old church in Wales asked a party of Americans to visit his parochial school. After a recitation he invited them to question the scholars, and one of the party ac cepted the invitation. “Little boy,” said he to arosyfaced lad, “can you tell me who George Washington was?” “Iss, surr,” was the smiling reply. “ ’E was a ’Merican gen’ral.” “Quite right. And can you tell me what George Washington was remark able for?” “Iss, surr. ’E was remarkable c’os ’e was a ’Merican an’ told the trewth.” The rest was silence. The suffix “ous” meaning “full of” was being discussed in the spell ing class. Mountainous, full of mountains; dangerous, full of danger ; porus, full pores ; courageous, full of courage; and joyous, full of joy, had been glibly recited. “Who is ready to give us another example?” asked the teacher in a confident tone. A sedate-looking boy on a back seat promptly responded, “Pious.” He has little faith in truth who rushes out with a blanket every time , the wind of criticism arises. AN EXTREMELY PARTICULAR MAH. The woman with the striped woolen shawl tied round her chin took from her mouth the last sample of calico she had been chewing and carefully inspected it to see if the color had run, says the Chicago News. It had not, but she was not entirely satisfied. “I’m in no rush,” she observed to the storekeeper. “I reckon I’ll look around for a spell afore I settle on it. I may git better suited.” The woman went, nevertheless. “She’s like Clay Hulbut,” remark ed Washington Hancock. “Clay was one of them fellers alius wanted to look around fer a spell afore he gave up any of his good money. I reck on Clay never bought a thing or m|de a trade the first time of askin’ in his hull born days. He had an idij'ne’d git better suited somewhere else whatever it was he dickered for.” “Seems to me like hoss sense not to jurnpat the first thin’ ’at’s offered,” said Sol Baker. “Taat’s what Clay said when Sile Peters offered him $2 for $1.75,” said Hancock. “Sile had a bet up on it. Clay cime into the bank to see if he couldn t git a chattel mortgage blank for less n five cents, which was what the recorder wanted to charge him, an’ Sile told him that he couldn’t let any goat less’n 15 cents or two for a quarter. ‘l’ve got some $2 bills here that I’ll let you have cheap, though, Clay,’ he says. ‘They’re a leetle night wore an’ I’ve more o’ them in stock than I need. If you’d like to take about 50 of ’em off my hands, you can have ’em for $87.50.’ An’ he handed out a bunch with a paper band pasted around them. “ ‘Seems like that’s reasonable enough,’ says Clay, after studyin’ awhile. ‘Tell ye, though, there ain’t no hurryin’ rush about this. I’ll go over to the Drovers’ bank an’ see what Keating is offerin’ ’em for. If he can’t make a better figger I’ll come back and take these. You keep ’em to one side fur me.’ “Then he went over to Keating an’ ast him what he was selling $2 bills for in lots o’ 50. That’s the honest truth.” “If Keating was alive now he’d bear me out,” said Hancock. “You can write to Sile Peters if you like, an’ ast him if it wasn’t so. He’s in St. Joe now, if he hasn’t moved away since I last heard of him. “I remember standin’ behind Clay at the ticket seller’s stand one time when the circus came to town. ‘How are you a-sellin’ tickets today?’ says Clay. “‘Two bits gen’ral admission an’ reserved seats 50 cents,’ says the fel ler. ‘How many do you want.’ “ ‘That the best you can do?’ says Clay. “ ‘Bein’it’s you, I’ll make it half II UOllßt cents general admission,’ says the feller, winkin’ at me. “ ‘Well,’ says Clay, puttin’ up his weasel, ‘I reckon I’ll look around a spell fust.’ ” “That’s all right,” maintained Baker. “Of course there’s such a thing as pushin’ it too fur, but sup posin’ Rufe, here, bought his goods from the fust drummer ’at come along ’thout inquirin’ round to see what the others was a-sellin’ an’ what they charged. If you want to buy a cow, you’d look around a spell, too, wouldn’t you?” “Not if you come to me an’ told me the cow you’d got was kind an’ gentle an’ young an’ a good milker an’ worth the money you ast fer her,” replied Hancock blandly. “Clay would come to town after groc’ries an’ put in the hull day lookin’ around an’ then go home ’thout so much as fillin’ his m’lasses jug. He put off buyin’ his seed p’taters till it was too late to plant ’em, even if there’d been any left to plant. Most gen’rally he’d pay two prices for what he could have bought at half price if he had the gumption to snap at a bargain - “He was over 30 years old afore he got married, he was so blame per nickety an’ partickler about th’ kind o’ gal he wanted. He’d go around and set up with fust one an’ the an other an’ figger on what kind o’ wo men they was likely to be an’ how much money they had, an’ how good lookin’ they was, an’ then he’d drive over to Tarkia an’ see what they had there, but he couldn’t never makeup his mind an’ the further he got in the woods the crookeder the sticks was, until fin’ly there wasn’t nobody left but Levy Bostick’s gal Belle. “I reckon Belle Bostick was about tbe homeliest critter that was ever raised on corn pone. She’d been give up to be an old maid fur ten years afore Clay seen her. Her folks was poor as cistern water, too. An’ Clay might have had a’most anybody when he fust startsd out if he’d made up his mind an’ stuck to it. They got on tol’rable well together though— ’bout as well as a heap o’ other mar ried folks.” “Why didn’t he look around a while longer ?” asked the storekeeper. “He didn’t have to take her, did he?” “He didn’t take her,” said Han cock. “She took him. It was the last chance she had an’ she know ed it.” _____ Norah, the “green” cook, poked her head in at the dining-room door. “Please, ma’am,” she asked, “an’ how will I be knowin’ when the pud din’ is cooked?” “Stick a knife into it,” said the mistress, recalling the cookbook in structions. “If the fcnife comes out clean the pudding is ready to serve.” “Yis, ma’am.” “And, oh, Norah !” The mistress had an afterthought. “If the knife does come out clean you might stick all the rest of the knives into the pudding.” I • Susie —“Auntie, dear, are you an ; old maid.” Auntie (hesitatingly)—“Certainly Susie ; but it is not nice of you to > ask such a question.” Susie —“Now, don’t be vexed, auntie; I know it isn’t your fault.” Fob "The Union.” WHAT IS LIFE? BT MILTON HEATH COTE. What is life ? A stream that flows And bickers down a valley, Adown it’s narrow coarse it goes. Slavelike chained to a galley. What is life ? A voyage made Upon a placid ocean. Dressed out in riohest of brocade, Insensible to motion. What isUfe? A night that’s passed In halls of gilded pleasure. When time flies by on wings of haste, A wasting of your treasure. What is life 1 A nimbus cloud. Some lightning and some thunder, It flashes and it rumbles loud, And oft excites our wonder. What is life ? An effort made. To lift a falling brother. To stretch a hand and lend him aid To fit him for another. What is life ? A stop, a stay, A wait until tbe morrow, A resting at tbe close of day. To seek surcease from sorrow. What is life ? A standing still, A waiting till tbe morning, When rising sun shines o’er the hiU, The day in beauty dawning. What is life? A place of toil, Of lab’ring, striving, giving. Where man stirs up the barren soil And tries to earn a living. Written fob “The Union.” AUTUMN. TO my mother—mbs. c. BY OEOBQE E. TACK. Now comes the royally robed au tumn, “season of mists and fruitful mellowness, close bosom friend of the maturing sun,” so beautifully de scribed by Keats, with its “many fruits and flowers, all flushed with many hues,” as witnessed by our own loved Bryant. And as it pauses and lingers in the valleys, its warm fra grant breath is wafted to us like the odor of honeysuckle—the odor of the aftermath, curing in the mellow rays of the sun. Few there are who do not love this season, as she comes smiling over the hills, her garments glowing with gold en rod and purple asters and white fringed golden eyed daisies. Her gardens are banked with chrysanthe mums and dahlias ; and all the bright panoply of heaven vaults over them, forming a vast conservatory. How softly she trips among the orchards in merry mood, turning their fruits into crimson and golden and purple wealth, and covering them with rare perfumes; and giving the sparkling streams a mellow laughter they seem ed not to possess in the sultry days of summer. It seems almost an echo of the spring life, this bell-toned rip pling cadence of sweet brook voices, how the mists hang like great cur tains over the distant hills and the valleys in the early morning, but as the sun arises in his strength he sweeps them away with his great arms, or pours upon them dazzling streams of gold that give to them a UCttUljr givßvisv —™ Of a truth, “the beauty of autumn, like the beauty of all things else created, is a gleam from the shining of God’s glory.” Over the vales in the mornings hang heavy mists like vast tent cov ers. Here and there are hill tops, or mountain peaks that rise above the mists like tent poles and seem to sway in the morning breeze. The far-away waters sparkle and scintillate like blue diamonds; and the oar blades flash like golden swords as they arise drip ping from the water. And while autumn drapes with her gossamer cur tain the gorgeous landscapes and waters, she also hides the work of death slowly carried on by her, as she first flushes with deep color the face of nature, ere it recedes and leaves its features withered and wan. The echoes float with cadence sweet and low across the water like far-blown songs of golden bells ; and at even the cricket’s song swells to diapason. As darkness falls in the solemn courts of the woods the katydids resume their endless arguments for and against Katy until Judge Frost overrules and gives his final decision. And how indescribably beautiful it is in the autumn-garmented woods, where the sunlight transforms the leaves and grasses into royally car peted kingly halls and arcadian bow ers, and the woodland songsters war ble their happy lives away. And the merry excursions here and there, where the silvery showers of hickory nuts fall in blessings, and the glossy brown chestnuts await us, and the bright eyed squirrels; and who can help falling in love with the sweet breathed fox-grapes as they tempt us to ascend to their lofty bowers and bear them away in triumph. Here and there are somber pines, through : whose branches the winds sigh and 1 seem to whisper secrets of forest and * lake and glen. There is an almost endless variety of plants and flowers 1 to study and admire, and the thought * comes to me over and over again, surely in this season of surpassing ' loveliness and in all these days of rest ’ and quietude, “God has made His wonderful works to be remembered.” 1 Who is a God like to this God, who doeth great things and marvelous. And what rare tone-picture of land scapes we now witness, pictures of ' gold and crimson, of green and scar ’ let forests, and vast glowing banks of sumac, whose leaves silently drop, 1 like the moments into eternity, upon 1 the emerald and gold patterned fields ; beneath. Then there are verdant hills and cottages embowered by gray old willows and dark green elms, tbe , crinkled surface of the rivers, and the ; sun flushing the tiny cottages along ' the far shores, and the purple vine . yards along the slopes. The yachts speed along with gleaming white . sails, and at last the evening comes „ and the day slowly departs amid a ' gorgeous train of courtier clouds in : regal attire. And the sweet message of the flowers! Why is it that so many of them are either shaped like 1 a star, or else have upon their dear faces the form of a star. Ah, they Y have had traced there by an infinite a hand the thought that they, although earth-born, may yet bear the image , and the character of the world above. And shall we fail to heed and treas- ure the message? “By beholding we become changed.” Then let us ever behold the bright and the morn ing star and become prepared, that after life’s season of change and de cay we may bloom again in the Eden vales above. In the brief sunset hour, ere the twilight hangs its softly glowing cur tains over all the land, the mellow golden light pours over the wood lands and floods the valleys, where tinkling streams curve and wind be tween banks of velvet verdure, along whose edge the flowers of autumn hang their heavy heads. Then the birds begin their even songs, and the music floats through the quiet air with passionate cadence. Ah, there is in these scenes and sounds a fore taste of Eden restored, where death will be unknown, and we shall stroll through the rose-perfumed vales of earth made near and list the hannv songs of birds. And in that land of endless joy and peace we shall reign upon the throne of the Prince of Peace, the warrior who conquered. Sin and death and the grave, base triumvirate in the earth camp of strife. There the light shall be seven fold, with no mists to obscure the beauties beyond, for the light of that home, that city glorious, is the reful gence of the light of the world. There, where autumns shall know no decay,and death shall be unknown ; where the burdens of life and part ings shall never be felt; in that land of far-reaching distances, of broad streams of flowery glens and lily-star red mountain slopes, we shall meet again the faithful loved ones of earth, who now sleep in peace. And as we go bravely on to life’s fair autumn, though it may mean for us dissolu tion and decay for a season, let us bear in mind the helpful thought of the poet, that “Age Is opportunity, no less, Than youth itself, though In another dress, And as the evening twilight fades away, The sky is filled with stars invisible by day.” THOUSANDS WON BT AXE BLOWS. A recent dispatch from Windsor, Vt., says: The boast of Maxwell Evarts, at a dinner in Washington last winter, that the Green Mountain State possessed a woodchopper who could go into the woods, cut down, chop up, split and pile five cords of wool between sunrise and sunset, was made good a few days ago in the woods at the north of this town, on Mr. Evart’sfarm,when Edward Moot, of Weathersfield, not only performed the feat, but did it in an hour and a half less than the required time, and had had an extra eighth of a cord in his pile and an extra half cord of chopped and split wood on the ground. The novel contest was witnessed by a number of prominent men whom Mr. Evarts had brought from Wash ington, New York and Boston, and wfuS'O gSffiefeSto nf e‘hofetfilag^late applaud the prowess of the State champion. Among the guests were L. F.* Loree, president of the Dela ware and Hudson Railroad; L. A. Coolidge, Assistant Secretary of the United States Treasury; Samuel G. Blythe, of New York, and A. B. Kittredge, of South Dakota. Wagers aggregating several thous and dollars are said to have been placed on the contest. Champion Moot, in addition to receiving SIOO for his day’s work from Mr. Evarts is said to have won considerably more by backing himself to perform the feat. Woodchopper Moot laid out a row of axes, all sharpened to a keen edge, shortly before the rise of the sun, in the edge of a bass wood growth. Refreshing himself with a drink of brandy and milk, he made ready for the contest. His son, Frank, stood close by, ready to hand the chopper his axes and wedges as needed. At 5.52 Moot drove his axe into the first tree. At 10.30 he had cut down eighteen trees, ranging in length from sixty to seventy feet, and from nine to thirteen inches in diameter at the base. He had chopped and split three and a halt cords. He said then that his muscle was as good as when he began. He believed that all of the five cords would be chopped and split by 2 o’clock in the afternoon, when he would begin to pile it. At 2.30 he had finished chopping and splitting the five cords stipulated, and the piling was about one-third completed. Moot stopped to eat twice during the morning, consuming ten minutes each time. After 3 o’clock, realizing that he would easily win Mr. Evarts’ wager, he worked more slowly, but at 4.22, an hour and twenty-eight minutes before sunset, he laid the last stick in place amid the cheers of the crowd. TELEPHONE MANNERS. Do telephones lead to politeness or otherwise? When they first came into use the answer to 'this question would have been emphatically in the negative, but now that they are al most universally prevalent, an era of good manners and “thank yous” seems to be in full swing. In some communities, says the Youth's Com panion, it is not even possible to quarrel over the telephone, although the two women who took part in the following conversation came near it: “Hello! Is this Mrs. Weston?” “Yes.” “This is your next door neighbor, I Mrs. Lawrence. I thought you might be interested to know that at the pres ent moment your son Thomas is sit . ting on one of the sheets which is ! bleaching on my lawn, and is build | ing a large pile of mud on it.” “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Lawrence I” exclaimed the mother. “And may I ‘ return the favor by informing you ' that your setter Rab has just rooted , up my two new rose bushes, and that ; he seems to be chewing the buds?” f “Oh, indeed ! Thank you ! Good b bye ! M ! “Not at all. Thank you ! Good S bye!” _ __ If people laughed more they would all be happier and healthier. ESTABLISHED 1850. AFFINITIES MATE AT LOVERS’ FAIR. Although the happy day is still some months away the fair maids of Luxemburg who have not yet been fortunate enough to secure husbands have begun to prepare for “Lovers’ Fair.” New dresses are being made, old ones repaired and all the subtle known to woman-kind the world over are being brought to bear upon the households irresistable in the eyes of the eligible young men. Every year, the first Thursday in December, the peasants of this hilly province flock into its chief town, Ar lon, in charabancs, carts and every other description of vehicle, in order to attend the curious ceremony. The young people strike up acquaintance as to the possibility of a match. The young men, who are invariably dress ed in their best black clothes, offer presents to the girls of their choice, fttltl even go oo far to oloim a (cat. mal engagement. These operations take place openly in streets, in houses of refreshment and in the public gar dens. All this, however, is but a prelimi nary and of but slight interest com pared with what follows. If two young people become mutually at tracted at this “fair” the respective families apply to a marriage broker, or as he is called, “a holy man.” This person becomes the honored guest in the house of the parents of both contracting parties; he makes himself acquainted with their exact social positions, their habits of life, their tastes ; transmits these detailsto the “other side,” indicates how house keeping may be best started on the given conditions ; in short, he “fixes up” the marriage. The brokers or “holy men” are generally counted as first-rate trenchmen and wine swallow • ers. All the same they are held in considerable esteem by the two fami lies, at whose tables they are accorded the place of honor. A month later —that is to say the first Thursday in the new year—there is a second ‘‘fair’ ’at Arlon. Here the lovers formally plight their troth, the families give their mutual consent to the union and the broker receives his remuneration—consisting of a commis sion on the amount of the dowry, and, in accordance with an ancient custom, a pair of top boots and a top hat. As the parties leave the town in the even ing it is easy to see by the number of young girls loaded with presents whether the “holy men” have done good business. A COURSE OF OX. In the choice of motor power allow me to suggest the ox. The horse leans forward to pull and even helps himself along by bobbing his head. He jerks a load out of a hard place by plunging bodily against the collar, stopping and_ lunging again. He starts suddenly forward at his release. He works himself into a lather, and you, if you are the right kind of per son, cannot help feeling for him with inward stress and strain. The ox does not bob a horn. He simply journeys, and the load goes along. When he comes to a tough place his pasterns do not bend down, he does not squat to pull, he does not pinch along on the toes of his shoes, he seldom blows, and he does not know how to sweat. He does not ex ert himself at a patch of woven soil and then hurry up when he is past it. The chain becomes stiffer, and the yoke sits solider to his neck, and that is all. There is no sign of effort. The earth may grit its teeth and crunch as it swallows the plow, but the ox stalks on his way. With the share deep or shallow or lifted entirely and hanging from the axle, whether he is plowing earth or air, it makes no dif ference to him. His most ponderous task is still himself, and he heeds no incidentals He is out for a stroll. He does not allow work to interfere with the even tenor of his way. His tendons are rigged to his out standing rump bones like so much spar and tackle, and he goes along by interior leverage. In side his old woman hulk is the ne cessary engine work, and he will neith er go slower for this thing nor faster for that. There is much about him besides his disposition that is self con tained. He is the antithesis of the automobile. To ride on his back is a cure for indigestion; to ride behind him is a rest for the mind. A course | of ox is an antidote for the ills of the , times. SHARP DEALING. For once the American had discov ered something British that was bet ter than could be produced “across the pond.” His discovery was a fine collie dog, and he at once tried to in duce its owner, an old shepherd, to • sell it. : “Wad ye be takin’ him to Ameri i ca?” inquired the old Scot. : “Yes, I guess so,” said the Yan kee. f “I thought as rnuckle,” said the ’ shepherd. “Icouldnapairtwi’Jock.” • But while they sat and chatted an ! English tourist came up, and to him j the shepherd sold the collie for much i less than tbe American had offered. . “You told me you wouldn’t sell • him,” said the Yankee, when the ’ purchaser had departed. “No,” replied the Scot; “I said I , couldna pairt wi’ him. Jock’ll be t back in a day or so, but he couldn’t - swim the Atlantic.” In the twenty-first verse of the S seventh chapter of Ezra can be found every letter of the English alphabet. , It runs thus : “Audi, even I, Ar r taxerxes the King, do make a decree 1 to all the treasurers which are beyond i the river, that whatsoever Ezra the : priest, the scribe of the law of the ; God of heaven, shall require of you it j be done speedily.” “Say, that new girl my wife hired i is a ‘bird,’ and no mistake.” “A bird, eh!” j “Yes ; she acts like a goose, talks like a parrot, and she’s pigeon toed.”