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VOL. 59. WHOLE No. 2290.
Second National Bank TOWSON, TUL<3l better “BANK IX.” Do you carry your money with you? That Is not a safe thin* to do. You may lose Hor someone may hold you up. Better "Bank It." Do you keep your money In your house? That Is not very safe either. Your house ®iy barn or b© robbed. Better “Bank it*” Do you hide your money under a stump? Be careful; someone may find It. Then there will be trouble. Better “Bank It.” Do you give your money to a friend to keep it for you ? That may not he wise. He Will doubtless keep It all right. Better “Bank It.” Ho you spend all yoar money as fast as yon get it ? If so you are contracting a bad habit. Hon’t do It. Better “Bank it.” The proper thing to do with your money Is to “Bank it” with the Becond National Bank of Towson. There It will be safe, and whenever you need It simply draw your check and It is at your disposal. -iOPPICERS! — Thomas w. Offutt, Elmer J. Cook. I vice-presidents. Thos - j - President. Harrison Rider, 1 cashier. Thomas VV. offutt. W. Bernard Duke, Henry C. Lonqneoker, Elmer j. Cook, wm. a. lee, Z. Howard Isaac. Harrison Rider, Chas. H. Knox, Noah E. Offutt, John I. yellott. W. Gill Smith, John V. Slade. Jan. 25—ly. Miscellaneous. Muller & Yearley, HARNESS, TRUNKS and BAGS, 343 N. Gay Street, BALTIMORE, Md Blankets Robes. In addition to Regular Line we offer BIG LINE OF MILL SAMPLES AT BARGAIN PRICES. Blankets From SI.OO up. Lap Robes ** $2.00 “ Wit will pay you to see them. Special induce ments to early buyers. TWEE GOOD EACH FREE Qct.lotMay3o ESTABLISHED 1870. MAIER’S PREPARED PAINTS ARB STRICTLY PURE LEAD AND ZING PAINTS. GUARANTEED EQUAL TO THE BEST. -MANUFACTURED BY JOHN G. MAIER’S SONS, 153-155 N OAY STREET, Cor Frederick Street, BALTIMOBB, Md. Both Phones. I July 11—ly Geo. W. Kirwan & Co. 13 N. CHARLES STREET, Between Baltimore and Fayette Streets, BALTIMORE. Md„ ■ tana., 4 \ SHIRT RAKERS. | 4 SHIRTS TO MEASURE-^l a S w department ed special care. All shirts are made on our own Dremises and our FIT AND FINISH have made us well known as a 8H RT HOUSE. If you have not tried us, do so by ordering a Sample Shirt. Cartwright & Warners’ English Unshrinkable Underwear has been the best for over a hundred vears and will he for a hundred years to come. &-BOTR PHONES. [July 4—ly WILLIAM J. BIDDISON, fire insurance agent. Fire, Tornado and Windstorm Poll* cies Issued. NO ASSESSMENT. —REPRESENTING— HOME FIRE INSURANCE CO. OF N. Y* Assets $20,000,000.00; GIRARD FIRE & MARINE INSURANCE CO. OF PHILA., Assets $2,141,263.79. Office —Belair Road and Maple Avenue. Bsipebnrg P. 0., Baltimore County, Md. C, A P. and Maryland Phones. share of patronage will be appreciated. EDWARD E. BURNS. FRANK BURNS. JOHN BURNS’ SONS, Funeral # Directors, TOWSON, Md, C. & P- Phone-TOWSON, 77-F. Mch 7—ly Flowers, (Ms, 4c. FOR WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS, AT REASONABLE RATES. Special Attention Given to Ornamenta Gardening. JOHN L. WAGNER, Florist, W. JOPPA KOAD, TOWSON, Md. C. A P. Phone—Towson 8-F. [Nov. 21—ly TROUBLE IRON BLDSIE4D, -BRASS TRIMMINGS. IRON SPRING. DOU RLE COTTON TOP MATTRESS. 57.00. W. P. COLLINS. 837 Greenmount avenue, Baltimore, Md. by mail filled. [Nov. 14—6 t ia /TONEY TO LOAN. Inany sum from SSOO to $5,000 on first mort vare. must be gilt edge, at bX per cent. ’ JAMES P. OFFUTT, Attorney at Law, Towson, Md Feb.lß—tf J&isceUaixecrtis. LDRBEB FOB SALE CHEAP I At My Mill at Shawan, BALTIMORE COUNTY, Md. —AND AT My Yard at Ashland Station. N.C.R.R. BALTIMORE COUNTY, Md. 1" \y 2 " 2" LUMBER, $lO to sls per 1,000 feet. *=y*CAN CUT TO YOUB ORDER-®* Framing Lumber for Barns & Houses Also Bridge Lumber. . —shipping” POINT ABHLAND, 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. A P. Phone—Cookey 29-11. or CHARLES FREELAND, Ashland, Baltimore county, Md. C. A P. Phone—Cockey 35-R. MHTF • lam In market for a TIMBER Ih . TRACT OF WHITE OAK, CHEBTNUT, Ac., Ac., 100 TO 500 ACRES. Sept. 12—3 m BARGAINS BARGAINS BARGAINS REMOVAL SALE! Fonitiire Jarpets, &e Will vacate my present store January Ist, 1908. Before removing I will Sell My Entire Stock Below Cost. Furniture, Oarpets, Stoves, Oilcloth, Mattings and General House Furnishings. If You Want Bargains Cali and See Me W. P. COLLINS, 837 Greenmount Ave., Baltimore. 9~Goods Delivered. [Nov. 14—at ROBERT CLARK. A. W. CLARK. LUTHERVILLE STEAM LAUNDRY, ROBERT CLARK 4 SON, Prop’rs. NEWLY FITTED THROUGHOUT AND NOW READY FOR BUSINESS. Cood Work and Moderate Charges. Public patronage respectfully solicited. GOODS CALLED FOR AND DELIVERED. C. A P. Phone. Mch 7—ly JOHN TYRIE, —STEAM— MARBLE & GRANITE WORKS, COCKEYSVILLE, Md. -ALL KINDS OF— MARBLE & GRANITE MONUMENTS A SPECIALTY. No oharge made for showing designs either at the works or elsewhere. JAMES E. 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 Fire Insurance Company. BUT AND SELL BEAL ESTATE. If you want to buy country property, or wish to sell, see me. I can help you either way. |3P“Prompt attention given to the collection of claims. Residence—NEAß FORK. [June 13—ly Dr. A. 0. McOURDY & CO., TOWSON, Md. Orders received for— ALL KINDS OF SLATE. Peach Bottom Roofing Slate, Slabs for Walks, Jw m asaiEr w • Cemetery Stabs, * Imposing nonet, Ac., Ac. 49-Call on or address as above, i C. AP. Phone—Towson 23 R. [July 4—ly ESTABLISHED 1876. BOTH PHONES. DANI£L~ RIDER, tool GREENMOUNT AVENUE, BALTIMORE, Md., COMMISSION MERCHANT For the Sale of Hay, Grain and Btraw. Orders for Mill Feed, Gluten Feed, Cotton Seed Meal. Oil Cake Meat, Salt, Ac., will receive prompt attention. [Apl. 4—ly PIANOS TU NED In Any Part of the County. - Address, JOSEPH A. NEUMAYER, Raspeburg, R. F. D., Md. C. A P. Tel.—Hamilton 4-k. [Sept. 26—ly MODERN THERAPEUTICS. I went to a modern doctor to learn what it was was wrong. I’d lately been off my fodder, and life was no more a song. He felt of my pulse as they all do; he gazed at my outstretched tongue; He took off my coat and weskit and harked at each wheezing lung. He fed me a small glass penstalk with figures upon the side. And this was the final verdict when all of my marks he’d spied: “Do you eat fried eggs 7 Then quit it. You don’t 7 Then hurry and eat ’em Along with some hay that was cut in May; There are no other foods to beat ’em. Do you walk 7 Then stop instanter, For exercise will not do I For people with whom It doesn’t agree, And this is the rule for you : Just quit whatever you do do Ana begin whatever you don't. For wbat you don’t do may agree with you As whatever you do do don’t.” Yea ; thus saith the modern doctor: “Tradition be double durned 1 What the oldsters knew was nothing compared to the things we’ve learned. There’s nothing in this or that thing that’s cer tain in every case Any more than a single bonnet's becoming to every face. It’s all in the diagnosis that tells us the patient’s fix— The modern who knows his business is up to a host of tricks. “Do you eat roast pork 7 Then stop it. You don’t 7 Then get after it quickly. For the long-eared ass gives the laugh to grass And delights in the weed that’s prickly. Do you sleep with the windows open 7 Then batten them good and tight And swallow the same old fetid air Through all the snoozesome night. Just quit whatever you do do Ana do whatever you don’t, For whatever you don’t do may agree with you As whatever you do do don’t.” —Strickland W. (/Milan in Judge. LYDIA S 'QUORUM. “Well, Lyddy, I’ll get the job, if I can, but it’s going to be a mighty hard thing to get a ‘corum,’ ” Deacon Watrous was saying. ‘ ‘You see, that young Wight. thinks we ought to have a man. Of course you’ll have my vote, but Bill Stiles is always straddlin’ a fence, and the last man he talks to gets him. This young feller’s highfalutin talk kind of caught Bill’s fancy, and he was totterin’, but I took him in hand, and now he’s leanin’ our way again. I’ll stick to him tighter than a brother and keep him away from Wight till the meetin’ is over. It’s tomorrow night.” “You are so good, Deacon Wa trous,” replied Lydia, paising grate ful eyes, “and if I get the place I’ll do my best to vindicate your choice.” “I’ll do all I can, Lyddy,” said the deacon. Lydia Gardner had spent the past summer away from home, and when she returned to the farm she had found the family in a state of gloom. Crops had been poor, a number of cattle had died, and the inevitable mortgage had to be met. Lydia proposed to meet it by teaching in the district school. She had been reasonably certain of securing the position, counting on the deacon and Bill for a quorum, but now this young man, who had fallen heir to the farm of his uncle, John Wight, and had come to the Corners in her absence, might carry his point of hiring a man to teach. She simply had to have the posi tion, and she determined to help Dea con Watrous in his efforts to secure Bill’s needed vote. It would be use less for her to appeal to Bill, “Weather cock Bill,” as he was called. She resolved to make a bold move and en counter the enemy whom she had never seen. Hugh Wight was in the sitting room of the old homestead pondering over this same subject of a quorum. When he succeeded to his inheritance he had determined to become a prac tical farmer and win the esteemed po sition his uncle had ever maintained in the hearts of the simple country folk. They had laughed at the young man for thinking he could be a far mer, but he had shown them he could learn from them and improve on their methods. They were glad to have him succeed his uncle as a member of the school committee. That seemed to be more in his line. He had as firm convictions on the educational question as he had on most subjects, and he thought a man more fitted to wrestle with the diffi culties of a country school than a wo man. He had not seen this appli cant, but he did not approve of a young girl who had no preparation or experience in teaching. In the midst of his cogitations there was a rap at the outer door. He opened it to admit a winsome, wil lowy girl, with big, innocent eyes and an artless manner. ‘ ‘Are you Mr. Wight ? lam Lydia Gardner.” He acknowledged the introduction gravely and asked her to be seated. Hugh Wight was not a susceptible man, and Lydia’s beauty only strengthened him in his belief that she was not competent for the posi tion of school teacher at the Corners. “I am, as you know,” she said, “a candidate for the position of teacher. I hear that you are in favor of hiring a man for the place, and I don’t sup pose anything that I could say would change your opinion. I came to ask you not to induce Bill Stiles to vote against me.” He was somewhat surprised at this frank appeal. He liked directness. “It means a good deal to us,” she continued earnestly, “and if I don’t get the place it will go very hard with my father. My salary would help him more than you can know.” Hugh felt as if he had been steal ing sheep. She did not want the money for fripperies, then, but to help her father. “What do you mean by my in fluencing Bill?” he asked. “It’s like this,” she explained: "Deacon Watrous is of course for me, and Bill is, too, or would be, if you leave him alone and say nothing about the advantages of having a man, but the last person that approaches Bill has him, and they say you have a con vincing tongue. The deacon is going to try and keep Bill away from you until after the meeting is over, but I didn’t care to trnst to that, so I came to ask you. I wouldn’t presume to ask you to vote for me, only to let Bill alone.” Up to this time the eyes, voice and manner of the young man had not been at all encouraging, but in the hearty peal of infectious laughter that followed her request Lydia caught a note of appreciation, and some way she derived hope from his amuse ment. TOWSON, MD., SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 28. 1908. I “Miss Gardner, it strikes me as rather odd that you should come and show me the way to gain my point and then ask me not to take it.” “Maybe it is,” she said, wistfully, “but I didn’t know what else to do.” He remained in deep study for a moment. He did not like to be in fluenced by personalities. “Well,” he said abruptly, “I’ll not speak to Bill or in his presence about this matter, and I’ll waive my objections for this year and vote for you myself, though I still believe a man should have the place.” Two bright spots burned in Lydia’s cheeks. “Thank you. I will now have an other incentive to do my best. I shall try to show you that I can fill the position as acceptably as a man. You look incredulous. They all said about here that you, a ‘city chap,’ could never make a farmer, but you showed them you could. I’ll show you I can make a teacher.” Having made this telling point, Lydia took her departure. Imme diately the housekeeper came in and expressed her approval of Wight’s concession. “Lyddy’s a smart gal, and for all her purty looks and baby ways she’s got a heap of grit. Pity her pa didn’t have it. He used to be a professor, and he’s eddicated Lyddy to use good speech.” At the meeting the next night Lydia received a unanimous vote, and when school opened she was installed as teacher. She made companions of the big boys and girls and pets of the little ones. The country people were perfectly satisfied. In due course of time Deacon Watrous and Bill Stiles came to make the accustomed visit. Lydia was fully prepared for this oc casion and invited them to question the class. They knew but a few questions to ask, and as they had paid many visits to the school the pupils knew the answers by heart. Then Lydia asked them to sing a stirring war song and a hymn. Bill’s little girl spoke a piece, carefully rehearsed beforehand. The two.members went away enthusiastic over the new teacher and told Wight he had better go and see for himself.” And he did, appearing suddenly and unexpectedly near the close of an Indian summer afternoon. Lydia’s expression of dismay caused a titter of appreciation among the older boys. Instead of a reprimand she gave them an imploring look that could not be withstood, and order reigned at once. Lydia felt that the visitor had noted the look and interpreted it as a con fession of inability to govern. Just as she was about to call upon the school for a song little Bob Hanks let loose a mouse he had carefully confined in his book bag. Excite ment prevailed among the girls and delight among the boys. Had Lydia known that she was to lose her posi tion she would still have done as she did now, jumped up on her chair. Hugh caught the mouse, threw it out of the window, ejected Bob and his book bag and in stentorian tone restored order. Lydia came down from her chair and in her confusion called the arithmetic class to come forward. She wished that Lige Jenk* ins had remained at home that day. Arithmetic was not his forte. She planned adroitly to omit him, but the visitor instantly detected the omis sion and pounced upon the unfortu nate lad. “Lige,” he asked, “how many times does 9 go into 27 ?” To Lydia’s dismay Lige promptly stepped to the blackboard and com menced a solution via long division, finally putting down 2 for an answer. “Try again, Lige,” urged Wight, cheerfully. Lige then substituted the figure 4 for 2. “You’ve got another guess com ing, Lige.” The boy looked bewildered, and Lydia desperately came to the rescue. “Lige, won’t it go three times?” she asked insinuatingly. Lige looked at her anxiously. “Why, yes,” he replied slowly, “it will, but it’s a dern’d tight squeeze!” Then came that delightful uncon strained burst of laughter that Lydia had heard once before from Hugh Wight. The school joined with him. The teacher looked at the clock and thankfully observed it was time for dismissal. She stood at the door until the last scholar had vanished. Then she came back to the platform, where Wight still sat and Lige lin gered. “Say,” observed the lad earnestly, “t’aint her fault. I never did Know nuthin’ about’rithmetic nohow. She’s the best teacher we ever had.” This touch of sympathy from the little champion was too much for Lydia. Her self-control slipped, and her head went down on the desk. “Lige,” said Wight gently, “you did better than I expected. There are lots of things in life more desira ble than a knowledge of the science of numbers. Take this dime and go down to the Corners and see what it will buy.” The boy sped happily away. Lydia raised her head. A little gleam of anger and defiance flashed through the tears. “You can send and get a man teacher as soon as you want to. lam glad I am not a man.” “So ami, Lydia,” he said heartily, with such earnestness of voice and eyes that the slender hand of the school teacher went up in a pathetic little way to her eyes. “lam your ‘quorum,’ you know,” he said whimsically, but with the new softness still in his voice, “and I didn’t come to inspect the school nor the scholars, but to take the teacher driving. Will she go?” Her hands came quickly down from her eyes, whose dimness was melting away in a glow of pleasure. “Yes,” she replied, “I will go.” The greatness that is thrust upon a man is apt to annoy his neighbors. INFLUENCE OF A “PULL.” One of the greatest delusions that ever crept into a youth’s head is that his advancement depends upon hav ing a “pull” with people who are in fluential. His future is wrapped up in him self ; the opportunity he is looking for must be born in his own brain ; his future must be wrought out from his own mind and with his own hands. It is wholly a question of self-help, resolution, self-faith and grit. Everywhere we see young men who seem to be waiting for somebody to discover them. They feel that they have ability ; but they seem to think that some condition, circumstance, or person is going to take hold of them and give them a boost. They think that they could make progress if somebody would only give them a push; but they do not seem to be able to start themselves. How many people there are who are just waiting for something to happen—they do not know what, but anything that will change things and give them a start. If there is any fact which nature emphasizes more than another, it is the fact that inertia is always death. Not to move oneself, to stand still, is paralysis—paralysis of faculty, ambi tion, or ability. Isn’t it a shame to see strong, well educated young people in this land of opportunity waiting for something to help them, many of them idly stand ing around for years hoping that somebody will give them a boost? Even while they are waiting, poor boys with fewer opportunities and advantages forge their way unaided, and reach the goal first. No other lesson a youth ever learns is as valu able as the one that, whatever he makes, whatever he becomes, he will, in the main, make himself. If we analyze the success of self-made men, we find that a very small percentage of it has come from outside help. They have blazed their own paths, forged their own way. Self-help is the key to all power. Help yourself and be strong ; wait for others to help you and be a weakling. It is pitiable to see the sons of wealth lifted into position which they have no strength to hold, because they have not developed the necessary mental and moral muscle by climbing to them. And there is no other way of developing mental and moral mus cle but by climbing. For one to be lifted into a position without any pre vious training or preparation for it, is positive cruelty. I know young men who are nominally heads of great con cerns, who are constantly mortified by the consciousness that men below them deserve the positions which they bold, and are infinitely more capable of filling them. Nothing in this world can compen sate for the loss of self-respect; and no man can respect himself for accept ing that which he has not earned. No man can feel that he is quite hon est when he is given, through a “pull, ” or influence, a position that others have honestly earned. He can not help feeling mean every morning when he goes to the office or factory to take a position which some one else ought to have. His sense of justice is outraged, his sense of fair ness protests; his self-respect is wound ed, his independence crippled, and he is so much less a man than he would have been if he had squarely and honestly earned the position in equal competition.— New Centuty. HE EDUCATED THE JUDGE. This anecdote is told of Chief Jus tice John Marshall. Returning one afternoon from his farm near Rich mond, Va., to his home in that city, the hub of his wheel caught on a small sapling growing by the road side. After striving unsuccessfully for some moments to extricate the wheel he heard the sound of an axe in the woods and saw a negro man approaching. Hailing him he said: “If you will get that axe and cut down this tree I’ll give you a dollar.” “I c’n git yer by ’thout no axe, ef dat’s all yer want.” “Yes, that’s all,” said the Judge. The man simply backed the horse until the wheel was clear of the sap ling and then brought the vehicle safely around it. “You don’t charge a dollar for that, do you?” asked the astonished Chief Justice. “No, massa ; but it’s wuf a dollar to larn some folks sense.” The darky got his dollar without further questioning. HIS SLEEPING PLACE. To illustrate the text —“Dove not sleepiest thou come to poverty,” a pastor tells the following : A boy had been away from home for several weeks, so the mother wrote to his employer : “Dear Sir —My son is no hand at writing letters. Will you please tell us how he is getting on. And do tell us where he sleeps nights.” The employer, who in this case was a grocer sent an immediate reply : “Your son,” said he, “sleepsin the store in the day time. I don’t know where he sleeps at night.” “Is your new husband much of a provider, Malindy?” “He des ain’t nothin’ else, he ain’t. He gwine to git some new kyathpets fo’ de house, providin’ he git de money ; he gwine to git de money, providin’ he go to work; he go to work, providin’ hit suits him. I never see sich a provid in’ man in all my days.” The Parson —I intend to pray that you may forgive Casey for throw ing that brick at you. The Patient —Mebbe yer riv’rence ’ud be saving toime if ye’d just wait till Oi get well and then pray for Casey. The need of the world is light— more light and yet more light—not k-nowledge alone, but wisdom; not reason alone, but inspiration. THE OBIGIN OF THE XOSB BOSE. The angel of the flowers one day Beneath a rose tree sleeping lay; Tbat spirit to its change is given, To bathe young buds with dews from heaven. Awakening from his slight repose. The angel whispered to the rose. Oh, fondest object of my care. Still fairest found, where all is fair. For the sweet shades, thou hast given me. Ask what thou wilt, ’tis granted thee. Then said the rose, with deepening glow. On me another grace bestow; The spirit paused with anxious thought What grace was there that flower had naught, ’Twas but a moment o’er the rose A veil of moss, the angel throws. And robed in nature’s simplest weed, Could there a flower that rose exceed. WILLIAM’S BUSINESS. “What are you a-driving at now, William?” asked the village patri arch of the young man with the near linen collar and fancy-banded straw hat. William’s answer and the story which the old man’s subsequent ques tions brought out are so true to a cer tain kind of human nature that they deserve wide quotation. “I ain’t doing anything exactly right now,” was the youth’s reply, says a writer in the Chicago News. “I’ve sold my plating outfit, an’ I’m looking around a spell. Maybe I’ll take the agency for a bicycle house. There’s a firm has wrote me an’ offered me a pretty good layout. I don’t see but I might make some money at it.” "It does look as if you might,” agreed the patriarch. “But if I was you I’d get after the road supervisors an’ get them to make a few roads for the wheels to run on afore I sunk much capital in it. Do they want you to put up fifty dollars as a guar’ntee?” “Shucks, no!” answered William. “I don’t hafter put up anything. All there is, I get the order an’ notify them, an’ they ship the wheel down. Then, after the feller’s seen it, I c’lect the money an’ take out my c’mission. The only thing is that I’ve got to ride one of the wheels m’self; but then, they let me have it at cost, so that part of it wouldn’t be so much. But there’s another firm in Portland, Maine, is offering me a good thing.” “What’s that, William?” inquired the patriarch. “It’s a photo-enlarging and color ing business. They’ve got a patent process for enlarging pictures an’ making them look jest like they was oil-painted. You couldn’t tell it from a picture that cost one hundred dol lars. Something that’s jest been in vented. They claim that agents is making as high as ten dollars or fifteen dollars a day on an av’rage. Ten dollars a day would be good enough for me. I’d be pretty well satisfied with that. I’ve sent off for samples, but you bet I ain’t going to send them money for the reg’lar out fit until I see what the pictures look like. I got bit on that ‘Eives o’Self- Made Men’ year afore last that way. You don’t ketch me twice.” “I thought mabbe you was going to take orders for suits o’ clo’es again,” said the patriarch. “You must have made good money at that.” “I didn’t make anything,” said the youth. “I only sold three suits; an’ Hen Waters wouldn’t pay for his when he seen it, an’ they wouldn’t pay me what I’d made on the other two. They claimed I was owing them, an’ they wanted to sue me. I told ’em to go ahead an’ sue, con found ’em !” “How about that patent washing machine?” “Couldn’t do anything with that. I guess the women would have bought ’em all right if they’d have the say so, but the men-folks didn’t see but what the reg’lar old tub an’ wash b’iler was good enough. There’s too many mossbacks around here.” “Wouldn’t buy them self-adjust ing bachelors’ buttons, either, would they? I s’pose they ’lowed that the kind sewed* on with a needle and thread was good enough to hook their suspenders on. Well, well! Wasn’t the mushroom-growing a success, either?” “I lost dost onto seventy-five dol lars,” said William, sadly. “An’ all my time,” he added. “Sho!” said the village patriarch, sympathetically. ‘ ‘That was too bad. But then, a man who’s all the time taking up business enterprises has to expec’ to lose once in a while. I’ll tell ye, William, I seen an ad in the paper yestiddy about a patent incuba tor that the man who owns it wants to get introduced around. He says that there’s liberal terms to agents, an’ you can get exclusive territory.” “I seen the ad,” said William. “I thought some of writing the feller. I don’t know but what I will, anyway. If that photo-enlarging business don’t turn out the way I think it’s going to I’ll hafter take up something else. I guess it ain’t too late for fruit-trees. If it is, there’s a candy-making ma chine that offers inducements.” “An’ if that don’t pan out, an’ the worst comes to the worst, you’re young an’ husky, an’ you can always go to work,” said the patriarch. GLAD HE WASN'T MAD. A notorious mountain moonshiner, familiarly known as “Wild Bill, was recently tried before a Federal Court in Georgia, and was adjudged guilty. Before pronouncing sentence the judge lectured the prisoner on his long criminal record, and at last in forming him that the court entertain ed no feeling of anger toward him, but felt only mixed pity, sentenced him to spend six years in the federal prison at Atlanta. Bill stolidly shifted the quid of to bacco in his mouth, and turned to leave the court-room with the mar shal. Once outside the only thing he said was this: “Well, I suah am glad he wa’n’t mad at me!” “Think of the extravagance of that New York broker who gave an automobile to an actress!” “Gave away an automobile,” rejoined Mr. Chuggins, thoughtfully. “That wasn’t extravagance. That was economy.” IKE’S OXEN. Among his neighbors Job Haiues was considered a pretty fair sort of man. He had settled in a little town in the southern part of Kansas, where he lived as an immigrant from New Hampshire, and he brought his Yan kee sharpness with him, but as he dealt fair and attended to his own business he passed. The only mem ber of the family beside Job and his wife was Ike, a nephew whom Job had taken to bring up, as he had no children of his own. Ike was atypi cal New England boy about fifteen years old. He had been brought up in one of the coast villages of Maine and had a great love for the sea. Job, like the majority of Yankee farmers, was a firm believer in cattle and did most of his work with oxen. One day he said to Ike, "Ike, if you’ll take that pair of yearling steers and break them to work, you can have them.” Ike was exceedingly well pleased at that and at once assumed charge of his new possessions. If ever a pair of young oxen were well taken care of they were. He groom ed them as carefully as the horses, so that their sleek coats shone as glossy as silk, and he was so kind with them that they were as gentle as sheep. He named them Jack and Billy. In his Western home Ike never for got the far-off ocean. It had been the one hope of his life to be a sailor, but his being sent West had destroyed it. When his uncle gave him the steers to break, the idea came to him that though he could never expect to tread the deck of his own ship he could use ship phrases in the education of his oxen and thusalways be reminded of his own home beside the sea. Thus it was that Jack and Billy were educa ted to work, “broken’ ’ totally ignorant of the usual commands by which oxen are managed. “Gee” and “haw,” “git up” and "whoa” had no mean ing for them whatever. It was “haul away” and “port” and “starboard” and “belay.” “Stern all” was back. The oxen grew and waxed strong, and his uncle often remarked that he never saw a team that could do more work than those oxen and Ike. No one but Ike ever thought of handling them. The nearest neighbor of the Haines’ was Deacon Merwin, a good man and pillar of the church. The good dea con saw that Ike’s yoke of oxen were workers, and a desire came over him to possess them. He offered to buy them several times, but Job always said that they belonged to Ike and were not for sale. The deacon asked Ike if he would sell them, but met with such an indignant refusal that he felt angered, but did not give up the idea of possessing the cattle. Finally he went to Job and said: “Neighbor Haines, if them cattle’ll work good every way I’ll give you S4OO for ’em. They’re too much property for a boy like Ike to have, and it is apt to create in him a bad sperrit and make him feel above his elders.” “Well, I don’t know, deacon. The boy sets a deal by them cattle, and a promise is a promise. I gave them to him if he would break ’em, and he has, so I’m bound to keep my part.” "That’s all true enough, Neighbor Haines, but Ike’s only a boy, and then, remember, S4OO ain’t offered every day for a yoke of cattle. Why not sell me these and give him anoth er pair to break, that ’ud do him just as well 1” The deacon’s S4OO and persuasions finally weakened Job’s scruples, and he gave in. They c eacon was to try them, if they worked all right was to have them for S4OO. How to tell Ike what he had done was a poser to his uncle. His aunt declared it a down right mean piece of business and told Job plainly what she thought of him. It was finally decided not to say anything to Ike until after the sale had been made and the cattle gone. In order that Ike might not be on hand to see his pets sold he was given a holiday and sent to spend the day at a neighbor’s,a couple of miles away, where there was a boy of his age who was a sortof chum of his. The next morning Ike was off bright and early, and the deacon was on band shortly after. It would not be fair to Job to say he did not have any misgivings. He would have backed out of the bargain at the least chance, and he really hoped that the deacon would not be satisfied with them. The oxen were brought out and yoked to the cart without difficul ty, though the deacon remarked that they did seem “kinder stoopid.” Job and the deacon climbed up into tlie cart. "Gee up!” The oxen turned their big eyes around inquiringly. “Gee up, there!” repeated Job. But they did not move a hoof. "That don’t appear like good breaking,” remarked the deacon. “They’re broke all right,” replied Job. “Come, gee up, there!” At the same time he gave each a prod with the goad. In response to the prodding the cattle walked off toward the open gate, in which direction their heads happened to be turned. Job did not want them to go in the road, so he shouted out “Hoy, boy !” to turn them around, but the oxen had no idea what "hoy” meant, and so kept on going straight ahead. Job shouted louder and struck Billy with the goad. They quickened their gait into a trot and turned out into the road. Then Job shouted “Whoa, whoa!” but they did not mind that either. “They don’t appear to be as well broke as I reckoned on,” remarked the deacon as he stood in the cart and viewed the proceedings. “They’re broke well enough,” re plied Job, rather nettled, "but I’m strange to them. Nobody but Ike ever drove them.” "Well, turn them about,” said the deacon. But they paid no heed to any com mand, and finally, exasperated, Job struck them both with the goad, and ESTABLISHED 1850. they started at a full run down the road. Clattery bang the cart went, and both Job and the deacon were compelled to hold on the cart stakes to prevent being bounced out of the cart. “Stop ’em ! Stop ’em !” shouted the deacon. “I want to get out. Whoa ! Whoa ! Whoa, you varmints!” But the oxen only tossed their heads and ran the faster. “Stop’em, can’t you?” Job was downright mad by this time. “Stop ’em yourself, you old fool!” snapped he. "You know as much how to stop ’em as I do.” “We’ll be chucked out and killed !” shouted the deacon, as the cart bang ed over a stone. The oxen were now thoroughly frightened and running away for fair, and both men were badly scared ana holding on for dear life. All at once an idea struck Job. “Say, deacon, can’t you talk some sea talk to ’em? That’s what I’ve allers heard Ike talk to’em,” hecall ed out as the cart bumped along. “Brother Haines, such sea talk as I’ve heard ain’t proper fer a pillar of the church to repeat, and I’ll call meetin’ on you fer this if we git out alive,” replied the deacon, with as much dignity as he could assume while holding to the stake. “Do try, deacon !” shouted the terrified Job. “It may save our lives. ’' Just then the cart gave a fearful lurch and the deacon banged his bead against the stake he was holding tc with considerable force. This made him boiling mad in addition to his fear. “Splice the main brace ! Shiv er ray timbers! Pipe all hands to grog!” and then, as that had no ef fecton the frantic team, "Boatahoy I” and then, losing all control of himself, “Ahoy ! Ahoy ! Drat you, you blank ety blank brutes!” and the deacon let out such a string of profanity that Job turned a shade or two paler. While this was going on the oxen had got over considerable ground. The people along the road gazed in open-mouthed astonishment to see two such staid citizens going along so furiously with an ox team and were terribly scandalized at their apparent hilarity. Ike, totally unconscious of what was going on at home, was plodding along to ward his chum’s when he heard a fearful clatter coming behind him. He turned and could hardly believe his eyes. There came his pets Jack and Billy at a furious pace and his uncle and the deacon in the cart. “Stop ’em, Ike ! Stop ’em !” shout ed his uncle when he saw Ike. Ike stepped to one side of the road, and as the cattle dashed up called out: “Belay, Jack! Belay, Billy 1” At the sound of the familliar voice and command they stopped at once and went quietly up to their young master. “I’ll have the law on you for this, Job Haines,” snarled the deacon as he painfully descended from the cart. “And I’ll call church on you !” re torted Job as he rubbed his bruises. “I won’t belong to any church with a man that kin swear like you kin. A purty deacon you be !” “If I had a brat like that, I’d skin him alive !” roared the deacon as he glared at the bewildered Ike. “Isaac, take them cattle home at once,” said his uncle. “As for this wicked man here, I shall never no tice him again.” Ike took the cattle home. His un cle walked. His aunt told him about the contemplated sale, and, though he expressed commiseration for his uncle, it is doubtful if he felt any. His aunt said it served them just right. Ike kept his oxen. A COMPLETE FAMILY. The book agent seldom tells a joke at his own expense, but here is one recently related by one of the much maligned fraternity : “I had been in poor health,” said this particular book agent, “and had been advised to go to the mountains of eastern Tennessee to recuperate. To kill two birds with one stone I took along some specimens of an en cyclopedia I had on my list, thinking I might possibly get a few orders. The first person I stacked up against was a typical mountaineer. He was sitting in the sun in front of his shack, watching his wife do the family wash ing at a little brook that flowed in front of the house. He listened at tentively while I got off my little speech, and alhough I knew I was up against a hopeless subject, I went through my rigmarole to the very end. He said he allowed he could get along without an encyclopedia. “Then I started afresh, and I saw | he was getting a trifle bored. ‘Why, sir, no family is complete without this book,’ I exclaimed. ‘“’Taint, hugh?’ he drawled. ‘What do you consider a complete family? See them ’ere young ’urns a-playin’ about “I nodded. “‘How many d’ye see?’ be de manded. “I counted nine. “ ‘There’s two more at school,' he said, ‘an’ three boys a-workin’ down on the new railroad cut. How many do that make ? ' “ ‘Fourteen,’ I said. “Then he commenced to call his ' dogs. ‘See them hounds?’ he asked. “I saw them. " ‘Wall, they’s six o’ them, an’ three more offen in the woods. How many do that make ?’ “I told him nine. “‘So no family is complete with out tbat ’ere book, eh ?’ he ruminated. “Pears to me fo’teen children an’ nine dawgs is a pu’ty complete fam’- ily, an’ I hev managed to struggle along without it so fur.’ ” “You wants to lookout fohdeman , dat's always givin’ advice,” saidUn ' cle Eben. “De chances are dat he’s one o’ dese folks dat likes to watch ! experiments while some one else takes all de risk.” > A good neighbor is as great a bless -1 ing as a bad one isn’t