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VOL. 60. WHOLE No. 2300.
i §*TRUE | | > TRUE PROSPERITY la not attained by (pending all the money one earns, < [ < | but by saving as much of It as possible. , > < ’ The men who DO things today are not those who spent their money as fast ] > 1 , •• they got It, bat those who saved from time to time, until they had sufficient < [ | means with which to go ahead and accomplish some purpose. J > ! • Are TOD saving today what you do not need? ] | • We can help you save, and will add each year something to yonr savings, J > < | according to the amounts you have had on deposit with us in our Savings De- ( > J > partment during the year. < [ | i Any boy, girl, man or woman can begin now to put aside a part, if not all, < | < [ of his or her income, and when the opportunity arrives be prepared to invest * . ' [ same in a good paying proposition. < * \ > This Is real prosperity. ] , < ’ Join the prosperous band today by opening an account with ns NOW. ] > * I Interest paid on savings accounts. . < | i; The Towson National Bank, i; TOWSON, Md. :; JOHN CROWTHER, DUANE H. RICE, W. C. CRAUMER, \\ President. Vice-President. Cashier. !> '► < | THE COMMERCIAL BANK OF MARYLAND BELVEDERE AVENUE, Hear Reisterstown Road, ARLINGTON, Md. . o——• CAPITAL STOCK, $25,000. . i p—.—. 2STOW O IE 3 IB IN" FOE BTUSIItTEISS ■ ■ 0 Does a general Banking Business in all that is consistent with safe and careful man agement. The location of our Bank makes It the most convenient place for a large number of residents of Baltimore county to transact their financial business. During the short time our Bank has been open for business the.amount of deposits has reached a success far in excess of our expectations. We have a SATINOS DEPARTMENT and pay Interest on money deposited there. Call and see ns and we will explain why it will be to your advantage to open an account with us. Prompt attention given to all collection business entrusted to us. 0 — —iOFFICKRS: — CHAS. T DOCKET. Jr.. JOHN K. CULVER, Ist Vice-President. CHARLES E. SMITH, President. HOWARD K. JACKSON, 2d Vice-President. Cashier. —:DIRECTORS: CHARLES T COCKEY, Jr., HOWARD E. JACKSON, ROBERT H. McMANNS, ARTHUR . NICHOLSON, J-B. WAKES, M.AX R<“S*™. JOHN K. CULVER, GEORGE W. ALT, H. D. HAMMOND, J. PRANK SHIPLEY, H. D. EASTMAN. Dec. 28—ly JJlxgßtjciatxß and gjctittßtß. TXB A. O. MeCURDY, SURGEONDENTIST, TOWSON, Md. Bx-President State Board Dental Examiners. CROWNS, BRIDGES AND PORCELAIN FILLINGS. 7"jTa. M. to ISM. Ornox Hours ■( i to 5 P. M. Office Call—o. 4P. ’Phone, Towson 192 B. Dec. s—lr T~kR. H. 8. JARRETT, Office with his father (Dr. J. H. Jarrett), Wash ington Avenue, near Allegany Avenue, TOWSON, Md. Special attention to catarrh of nose and throat. Office Hours—B to 10 a. m.; 6to 8 p.m. 0.4 P. Phone—Towson 217. TOct.iCtJunefl Dr. r. c. massbnburg, —office— at drug store of MASSBNBURG 4 SON, Odd Fellows' Hall, Towson, Md C. 4 P. Phone, Towson 342. Residence—W. Pennsylvania Avenue, near Postoffloe. Night bell and C. 4 P. Phone. Towson 461. Mch.l6—lt pvR. J. ROYSTON GREEN, NORTH BALTIMORE AVENUE, Near Tbxeht Church, TOWSON. Md Office Hours-a to 10 A. M., and 6 to 8 P. M. 0.4 P. Telephone. July 18—ly HKi*c*llau£jcmo. Ralph W. Rider, Livery, Sales and Exchange STABLES, WEST CHESAPEAKE AVENUE, Near the York Road, TOWSON, Md. First-Class Teams and Automobiles -FOR HIRE.— GOOD SERVICE and REASONABLE PRICES. Dec. 12—3 m WM. J. BIDDISON, FIRE INSURANCE ACENT Fire, Tornado and Windstorm Poli cies Jssued. NO ASSKSSMBNT. —BKPRBBBNTIHO— HOME FIRE INSURANCE CO. OF N. Y., GIRARD FIRE*4 CO. OF PHILA., Assets $8,141,263.79. Offiee—Belair Road and Blaple Avenue. Baapehurg P. 0., Baltimore County, Md. C. 4 P. and Maryland Phones. swa (hare of patronage will be appreciated. Jan. 2—ly Flovers, Plaits, k FOR WEDDINGS AND FUNERALS, AT REASONABLE RATES. Special Attention Given to Ornamental Gardening. JOHN L. WAGNER, Florist, W. JOPPA ROAD, TOWSON, Md. C. 4 P. Phone—Towson 8-F. [Nev. 21—ly J. T. MUFFNM $ SON, Saddles, Harness, AND STABLE SUPPLIES, Ineluding Brambles’ Horse Foot Remedy, 408 KNBOR STREET, Oppo. No. 8 Engine House, BALTIMORE, Md. C. 4 P. Telephone. Jan. 2—ly ESTABLISHED 1878. BOTH PHONES. DANIEL RIDER, 1001 GREENMOUNT AVENUE, BALTIMORE, Md.. COMMISSION * MERCHANT k For the Sale of Hay, Grain and Straw. V Orders for Mill Feed, Gluten Feed, Cotton ■ Seed Meal, Oil Cake Meat, Salt, 40.. wil receive prompt attention. I Apu 4—ly fg&ißiceXlattßxm*. 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 MIU SAMPLES AT BARGAIN PRICES. Blankets From SI.OO up. Lap Robes “ $2.00 rTt will pay you to aee tbem. Special induce ments to early buyers. FREE aooD 1 5E5,1%? EiC " FREE OcUOtMay3Q Dr. A. 0. McCJURDY & CO., TOWSON, Md. Orders received for— ALL KINDS OF SLATE. Peach Bottom Roofing Slato, w | w Slabs for Walks, Jw ® STSETCT & • Cemetery BH*bs, ■ Imposing Stones, Ac., 4c. 49-Call on or address as above. C. 4 P. Phone—Towson 23 B. [July 4—ly MtocU Inarms. iitiii sum Oakleigh Station, Md. & Pa. R. R., 2X Milks from Towson. Constantly on hand A LARGE STOCK OF MULES, TO SUIT ALL PURPOSES. EQ -AMO- Coach, Driving, : n ftTirmfl Saddleand : : : K\K\ General Purpose lIUUUIIU FOR SALE OR EXCHANGE. 9-horsesToardedw 0. 4 P. TELEPHONE. DUANE H."MOE, Prop’r, TOWSON, Md. OoL24— lv GROVE FARM PALLS ROAD, North of Brooklandvllle, MRd. PRIZE WINNING— Guernsey Cattle, Berkshire Hogs, Shropshire Sheep. FOB BALK- A Few Registered Heifers, Between 4 months and 2 years old Apply to JAS. McK. MERBYMAN, R. F. D. Lutherville, Md. C. 4 P. Telephone—Towson 43. Oot. 24—ly THE PENNIES IN THE BOX. When the air is crisp and frosty, and the mer cury stands low. Bight down about tbe zero point, and the air la full of snow; And tbe wind jnst keeps blowing the snow up into drifts. Tls then the carrier thinks he’ll send the sub out on a trip. It makes a fellow feel about ready to resign. When the storm is raging hardest, getting worse Just all tbe time; For be knows its pretty certain that when be makes a stop He’ll find a lot of pennies in the bottom of the box. But then he gets to thinking, if bis sub goes out today When he makes bis monthly voucher, he’ll be out just one day's pay. So he hies him to the office at a pretty rapid gait. There to get tbe information that the train ia four hours late. He gets to work and hustles his mail into the sack. For he doesn’t want to be until dark a-getting back. And he has a hundred boxes, so it's as like as not That at just seventy-five of tbem he’ll find pen nies in the box. He passes all his boxes, from one to twenty-five, And then be comes to twenty-six. “Goodness! Bakes alive ! This is no penny busi ness. not by a whole big lot; But a cup of steaming coffee and a mince pie piping hot,” And a cheery “Here's some letters ready stamp ed for you today: We always nave them ready so there’ll be no delay; For we know it’s aggravating when the carrier has to stop. And with the frost bitten fingers pick pennies from the box." ’Tis thus tbe carrier jogs along his route from day to day. And he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever get more pay. When a message straight from Congress said one eighty more per year Ia added to your salary, and then he gave three cheers. Sing glory ! hallelujah! it will help to pull me through; I’ll go at once and pay that note that’s long been overdue. There’s only one thing lacking, and that’s an awful blot; Tbe habit of the patrons putting pennies in the box. At last, tbe carrier goes to heaven, with its streets of shining gold; Its walls purest jasper, and other joys untold. Bt. Peter meets film at the gate, extends to him bis hand, And bids bim enter quickly and join the heavenly band. He pauses for a moment before he enters in. To cast bis eyes once more upon this world of strife and sin; And as he takes this final look toward this earthly spot. He sees a rural patron, dropping pennies in the box. —LtHu B. Pearson. HEN ATTORNEY. The girl moved along the hallway in a hesitating fashion. She glanced at the signs on the doors and seemed unable to come to a decision. Her pale face wore a troubled expression. A frown darkened her forehead. She was a slender girl, with dark hair and eyes and her quiet gown and hat were tasteful and becoming. That was the opinion, at least, of the elderly man who was sitting at a table in one of the offices when she paused at the open door and looked in. He was an elderly man of middle height, a little inclined to stoutness, a man with thick gray hair and short gray moustache, and his expression was a delightfully friendly one. It was this characteristic expres sion that attracted the attention of the girl. She paused timidly for a moment and then came into the room a little way, and when she saw the man was alone she spoke. “Sir,” she asked, “are you a law yer ?” His pleasant smile deepened. ‘‘lt is a curious fact,” he said, “that I have never been asked that question before.” His voice was deep and pleasant, too. ‘ ‘lf you know our profession, young lady, you will not expect a direct answer. Will it suf fice you if I say that I have been a member Of the bar of this county for forty years?” She hesitated and her voice trem bled. “I want to consult you about a di vorce.” He was a little startled at this re ply and glanced at his watch again. “Very serious, of course. Haven’t you anybody to advise you?” “No, I’m a Chicago girl. All my friends live there.” “Yes. Then you haven’t thought of going home to mother ?” “No. I’d be to do that.” “Good. Mother thinks you are happy, of course ?” “Ye-es.” “And father?” “Father didn’t want me to marry a —a New Yorker. If he knew I was unhappy he would come here and take me away and make a dreadful scene.” “No nonsense about father, eh? And what do you propose to do after —after you get the divorce?” She gave a little shudder. “Father sends me an allowance and I think I would like to find something to do —something to make me feel in dependent.” “Don’t you expect to ask for ali mony ?” “No, no,” cried the girl. “Idon’t want it—l don’t want anything that belongs to Jim.” “A very proper spirit,” said the old man, with a queer little twinkle in his eyes. “And how old is Jim ?” “Twenty-seven on the seventh of June. He is five years older than I am.” “Still youngenough to cling to his boyish follies, eh? A lively young rounder —late suppers and lots of red liquor, no doubt.” “No, no,” said the girl quickly. “Jim isn’t like that.” “Never goes anywhere, eh ? Al ways moping at home and refusing to take you anywhere.” "No,” said the girl. “Jim always took me wherever I wanted to go.” “Close with his money, perhaps. Forever grumbling about the house hold expenses?” The girl opened her eyes very wide. “Jim never did that. Why, I’ve always saved part of the money he allowed me. He never grumbled about it.” “He had an ungovernable temper, then ? Struck you, perhaps i’ * The girl’s face turned white. “Struck me! Jim couldn’t do that!” “There, there,” said the old man. “Of course he couldn’t. Then I’ll have to conclude that he’s a married flirt. Very fond of the ladies, isn’t he?” A dull red surged into the girl’s cheeks. “No,” she said in a low voice. “Now, my dear,” said theold man, “let me hear abont the material on which you expect to base your charges. You and Jim quarreled ?” TOWSON, MD., SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 6. 1909. "Dreadfully,” replied the girl with a sudder. “And what was it all abont?” 1 “I don’t remember how it started,” • said tbe girl. “It was something i quite silly, I think. Jim was very cross when he came home, and—and ' he fonnd fault with the biscuits —and they were not very good, but Jim had , no right to speak so sarcastically abont them—and I had a headache and wasn’t a bit well —and Mary bad threatened to leave —and I hadn’t heard from mother, and I was afraid she was sick—and—” 1 The old man checked the torrent with an uplifted hand. “Wait,” he hastily said, “that’s all right as an example of rapid enun ciation, but as a basis for divorce charges it is very weak. Did Jim throw the butter dish at you, and fol low it np with the cream jug ?” The girl stared at him. “Why, Jim wouldn’t do that,” she said, “Jim’s a gentleman.” “He might have been a little more courteous in his references to a lady’s biscuits,” said the old man. “But we will let that pass. What did he do?” “He said some very cruel things,” replied the girl as she choked back a sob. “All untrne, of course?” “Everyone of them.” “What did he say ?” “I—l can’t remember.” “But it is necessary to remember. What did he call you ?” “Me ! He didn’t call me anything.” “Didn’t he say cruel things about you ?” “No-o-o. He said them about Chicago.” “Chicago!” 1 ‘Yes. He said the meanest things you ever heard.” The old man drew a quick breath. “And, of NHirse, yon retaliated by saying still meaner things about New York?” “No, I didn’t,” the girl returned. “I know so little about New York I couldn’t think of anything to say.” “That’s true.” He looked at her keenly. ‘ ‘Of course nothing will sat isfy you except a divorce?” She gave a little start and opened her black eyes very wide. “Why, what else can I have?” His voice was grave. “Jim’s love.” The tears filled her eyes. “It’s too late for that,” she half sobbed. “Jim’s gone to see his law yer?” Tbe old man looked at his watch. “That reminds me. Who is Jim’s lawyer?” “His name is Paulding, Jasper Paulding.” “Eh !” exclaimed the old man. “Why, I noticed his sign as I came through the hall. And it’s just twelve o’clock.” Then he turned quickly and hur ried down the hall. When he reach ed the door that bore the name of Jasper Paulding he opened it and en tered. Two men were seated at the table. One was nearing middle age. The other was a young man, good look ing, tall and muscular. “There are occasions,” said theold man, “when it seems justifiable to deviate from established rules. This is one of them.” He looked hard at the young man. “I have heard your wife’s sad story,” he gravely said. And despite the gravity of his tone the young man almost believed he saw a twinkle in the keen old eyes. “I feel quite sure,” he said, “that my wife didn’t paint me darker than I deserved to be painted. Mr. Paul ding will tell you, sir, that I came here only to arrange for the payment into Angela’s hands of a fixed sum each week.” The old man arose. “I am a little pressed for time,” he said. “I go aboard the French liner this afternoon. Will you trust your client with me, Mr. Paulding?” “Certainly,general,” cried the law yer. ‘ 'He couldn’t be in better hands. Goodbye, sir, and a safe voyage.” A moment later the two men stood before the library door. “Your wife is in there, Jim Rob bins,” said the old man softly, “and she’s much too dear a wife and too sweet a girl to be lost through foolish pride. Do you understand ?” “Yes, sir,” the young man an swered. “I begin to understand.” They shook hands and then the young man quickly opened the door and as quickly closed it behind him. The old man nodded and gently smiled. Then he looked at his watch and with a sudden exclamation left the room. Five minutes later a puzzled look crossed the yonng wife’s face. “How did you know I was here, Jim?” “Your lawyer told me.” The young wife clapped her hands. “Isn’t he a dear old man,” she cried. — Cleveland. Plain Dealer. NEB PBEDICAMEHT. A celebrated divine was to preach in a small village one Sunday where he had been several times. The fam ily who entertained bim had a little daughter who was usually fond of at tending service. When the other members of the family were ready to go little Nellie firmly refused to go with them. “I do not want to go to church,” she declared. “Why, what is the matter ?” asked her mother, very much surprised. “Are you ill?” “No, but I heard Parson D. before, and I do not like him,” said little Nellie. “Oh, Nellie, that is a very wicked thing to say!” replied her mother. “Tell me why.” “Well,” said Nellie, rather con fusedly, "he preaches so long that I 1 cannot keep awake, and he preaches so lond I cannot go to sleep,so there !” —Philadelphia Ledger. *' Dobs your husband forget to mail the letters you give him ?” “Never, I put them in his cigar case.” I AMERICA’S VAST SCHOOL ARMY. The American army of school chil , dren consists of not far from 12,000,- r 000 pupils in actual daily attendance. ’ This is two-thirds of the total enroll- I ment and a little less than one-half of the total number of American chil dren and youths between 5 and 18 years of age. Forty years ago, 30 per cent, of our total population were in the “5 to 18 years of age” gronp, J which now includes only 28 per cent. This marks the force of the “race suicide” movement. Forty years ago 57 per cent, of the members of that • group were on the school lists, as . compared with 70 per cent, at the present time. The average daily at | tendance forty years ago was 33 per ‘ cent, of the total number in that group 1 as compared with 488 per cent, at the present time. Forty years ago 60 per cent, of the total school enroll ment were in daily attendance as com ! pared with 70 per cent. now. This indicates the force of the education ; movement. ’ In 1870 the average number of ' days of school attendance for each pupil was only seventy-eight. It has now reached 106. In 1880 Ameri can pupils averaged four years of schooling using 200 days as the basis of a school year. They now average five and a half years. In the states of tbe North Atlantic division the average is seven years, and in the north central division it is six and a half years. The states of the western division show a little longer term than the states of the North Atlantic divi sion. The South Atlantic and south central divisions show an average of three and a third years as compared with two years a quarter of a century ago. The youth of the year 1900 averaged only eighty-two days of total school experience. The aver age of the present time exceeds 100 days. There are in this country about 260,000 schoolhouses, and the value of all school property is about SBOO,- 000,000. The teachers’ army num ber about 475,000, approximately one quarter males and three-quarters fe males. The average salary of male teachers is about $57 a month and of female teachers about $44. The total yearly expenditure for educational purposes exceeds 8300,- 000,000. Including expenditures for private instruction, for universities, colleges and technological schools, normal schools, professional schools, reform schools and schools for the de fective classes the sum is approxi mately $400,000,000. Omitting these and including only what is known as public instruction, the annual cost is about $3.75 per capita and the annual expense about $27 a pupil. Twenty per cent, of the expenditure is f™- b\>>wiu 6 . „u„o oa 60 per cent, is for salaries. Forty years ago the cost was $1.64 per capita and the ex pense sls-55 a pupil. From this it appears that the coun try is spending nearly 75 per cent, more for education than it is for its army, its navy and its fortifications. —Boston Transcript. BY WAY OF EXPERIMENT, Not long ago there was a certain salesman in a dry goods shop of an Ohio city who was habitually observ ing to his fellow clerks that the con cern would find it rather difficult to get along without him. These re marks coming to the ear of the senior partner of the firm, he decided to in terview his clerk concerning them. “Mr. Spotts,” said the partner, with a grim smile, “although you have not proved to be our most effi cient clerk, yet we have appreciated such service as you have condescend ed to render us during the intervals when you were not expatiating on your own merits. Now we have lately heard it said that if you were to die the business would have some trouble in surviving the loss. This has worried us a good deal, for you, like all of us, are liable to drop off at any moment. “For this reason, therefore, we have concluded, for our peace of mind, to experiment whik all of us are in good health in order that we may ascertain whether the firm can bear up under your loss. You will accordingly consider yourself dead for the jieriod of one month, and we will try to see whether we can get along without you for that length of time.” ; — Harper's. A PAYING WEAKNESS. For many years a certain old fel low had been engaged by a farmer to ' gather his potatoes at a fixed sum per acre. He died, however, and the farmer was obliged to get another man. A day or two later the farmer strolled around to see how the new man was progressing. To his sur prise, at one end of the field he found a large heap of stones. ! “Here, wot’s this mean?” he de manded. “Well, sir,” responded the man in charge of the operation, “we thought 1 we’d save ye a bit of trouble next seedtime, so whenever we finds a stone in the taties we just dumps it ! down there.” “Ah,” remarked the farmer sadly, ' “I shall never find another man like ► Sam, theold one.” ► “Oh,” replied the other, rether net tled, “why, old Sam was rather blind an’ didn’t know a stone when he seen one.” I “Mebbe he didn’t, and mebbe he • did,” sighed the farmer, “but he worn’t so particular about keepin’ . ’em out of the taties. They weighs. ’ ’ 5 —London Answers. I “You and that little Wattles boy seem to play very nicely together,” said Johnny’s mother. “I am glad ■ there is one boy in the neighborhood [ that you can get along with.” “Yes,” i replied Johnny. “I lick him every ' morning and then he’s nice to me all day.” I No man is as good to his wife as , he expects his father to be to his mother. MARK TWAIN HOW CUBES BODILY ILLS. In addition to being a literati, a humorist, an honored cousinof Oxford and a reformed Mississippi river pilot, Mark Twain is now a doctor, and proud of it, too. “I am glad to be among my own kind,” he told the New York Post graduate Medical School banqueters last night. “I was once a sharp shooter, but now I practice a much higher and equally deadly profession. ’ ’ In beginning he apologized for his age and orphaned condition, and said that the only district in which he was taken seriously as a medical man was on his “native” Connecticut heath, at his farm at Reading, Conn. “Reading was thinly settled when I went there, and since I have been en gaged in practice it has become more thinly settled still. This gratifies me as indicating that I am making an impression on my community. ‘ ‘Of course, the practice of medicine and surgery in a remote country dis trict has its disadvantages, but in my case I am happy in a division of re sponsibility. I practice in conjunc tion with a horse doctor, a sexton and an undertaker. The combination is air-tight, and once a man is stricken in our district escape is impossible for him. “As a practitioner I have given a great deal of my attention to Bright’s disease. I have made some rules for treating it that may be valuable. Listen: “ Rule 1. In approaching the bed side of one whom an all-wise President —I mean an all-wise Providence — well, anyway, the rule is simple, if old-fashioned-first bleed the patient. ’ ’ Loud and prolonged laughter hav ing died away, Mark shook the che root ashes off his white flannel suit and began over again. “The other day a patient came to me and inquired if I was old Dr. Clem ens —’ ’ The mirth at this was so tempes tuous that Dr. Clemens had to make a fresh start, declaring he had forgotten what he was otherwise going to say. Then: “I’ll give you an instance that oc curred last week. A man came to us (we always hold consultations on every case, as there is not business enough for four) and said he was siefc. We asked him what was the matter with him, and he said he was a sailor. We treated him for that, and I never saw a man die more peacefully. That same afternoon my dog treed an Afri can gentleman. We chained up the dog and then the gentleman came down and said he had appendicitis. We asked him if he wanted to be cut open, and he said yes, that he would like to know if there was anything in it (L, ,4 klu. W|n.u auU IUUUU nothing in him but darkness. So we diagnosed his case as infidelity, be cause he was dark inside. “Aside from the two cases I have mentioned I find the only disease we have in Connecticut is race suicide. According to farmers up there it’s a rational human and valuable disease, but it is cutting into our profits, so that we are thinking of putting a stop to it. Either that or we’ll have to move.” GROWS 11 FEET IN 70 YEARS. A scientist has estimated that in a lifetime of seventy years a man grows nails which, if it were possible to pre serve them uncut, would reach the length of 7 feet 9 inches. Exactly on what argument this statement is based it is hard to say, for a little observation will show that during the great portion of a man’s life he cuts his nails on an average of once a week, and at each paring re moves a sixteenth of an inch, or the equivalent of a quarter of an inch per month, working out at 3 inches a year. This would give him a growth of 7 feet 6 inches during the thirty years he lives between 20 and 50, says the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. In theother forty years, when the growth is less rapid, he would certainly produce 4 feet of nails, so that 11 feet is a better average for the nail producing capac ity of a man. It should be noted, however, that the growth of the nails on the right hand is, in most people, more rapid than of those on the left hand, and it may be that the scientist in question has based his argument on the slower growth of the left hand nails. Another curious point is that the rate of growth of the nails depends directly on the length of the fingers ; thus, the nails on the two middle fin gers of men grow more rapidly than those on the first and third fingers, re spectively, and these in turn are more speedy in the growth than those on the little fingers. WHERE ELSE. A prominent citizen was on trial charged with harboring a vicious dog. The attorney for the defense had been consulting a dog expert and had learned that if a dog holds his tail up over his back when he barks he is not angry, while if he holds it straight out behind him he is in a belligerent, blood-thirsty frame of mind. Anxious to air newly acquired information, the lawyer began cross-questioning the prosecuting witness thus: “Now, did you notice the position in which this dog’s tail was held when he came at yon?” ’ “I did not,” answered the witness, “for that was not the end from which I anticipated injury. I had another end in view. Now, if the dog had been a hornet ” “No levity, sir,’ ’ thundered the at torney. Answer the question. In what position was the dog’s tail when he came at you?” “I believe, sir,” faltered the terri fied witness, “that it was behind him.” “A man wif a bad disposition,” said Uncle Eben, “is a heap like a mule. Yon’salway havin’ yoh doubt about whether his usefulness on some occasions pays foh his troublesomeness on others.” HOW DO WE CATCH COLD! This winter has had a variety of weathers —cold and warm days, wet and dry days, snowy and slushy days, and it is likely this will continue till the early rhubarb pie makes its ap pearance and dandelion greens are found on the table. In consequence of our variety and multiplicity of climates, it is thought there are more than the usual num ber af colds and cases of grip afflicting the people. But when we come down to fine points, we find there is a certain amount of mystery about contracting a cold. At one time, with the great est amount of exposure, no cold re sults, and at another, with all care, the sneezes and grip duly arrive. It is the popular notion that if one be amply provided with warm cloth ing, wraps, a macintosh, robbers and an umbrella little risk is run of taking cold, yet it is a matter of frequent ex perience that in spite of all reasonable precautions a catarrhal affection may be developed or pneumonia set in. The fact that weariness, depression of spirits, fright, anxiety or some thing which has affected the nervous system unfavorably has preceded the attack is frequently overlooked. When free from every form of nerv ous debility a person may expose himself to draughts, dampness and other usual causes of colds and escape entirely, while at another time, when weary or depressed from any cause, he may become the victim of a fatal attack of pneumonia from a much slighter exposure. The nervous origin of colds seems to be recognized by all physicians who have made a special study of acute diseases of the lungs and throat. It is explained that the temperature of the body is maintained by the nerv ous system and that the least failure or relaxation of nervous energy causes a change of the bodily heat and im pairs the power of the body to resist the approach of disease. It is a wonderful fact that under any change of outside temperature, even if one go from the Artie regions to the equator, the heat of the body remains at about 98 1-5 degrees. Bnt for its regulation by tbe nervous sys tem the heat of the body would not remain constant, as every muscular exertion would raise the temperature. Weariness, anxiety, depression and the like lower the amount of nervous energy and render the body suscepti ble to colds from the least exposure by disturbing the process of regula ting the temperature. While warm clothing and all the common means of protecting the body are important, it is even more important to avoid needless exposure if the nervous svs - icm xrc nut m its oesi cuntnucra. If this be correct—the relation of the nervous system to the tendency to take colds —then we have an in ducement to join the “Don’t Worry” Club. The happy, contented man is seldom a sick man. A cold cannot successfully attack a sunny temper or an ever present, genuine smile—one growing out of actual feeling and not the outcome of habit. The worrying, fretting, anxious, over-worked, avaricious,grasping man never has a good nervous system. He is everlastingly having his sick spells. He takes cold easily and won ders why. Laugh more out of inherent good feeling and fret less and colds will be fewer and the grip not so common. — Lancaster Examiner. WRITING MOTHER AND DAD. One day last week a Denver busi* ness man was seated at his desk writ ing when his office boy entered the room, says the Denver Post. “Mr. Blank,” said the boy, “the man who wants to buy your apartment house is outside in an auto. He’s in a big hurry—wants you to go and show him the building right now.” The business man paused in his writing. “Tell him I’ll be out in ten minutes. I’m writing a letter.” It was a $50,000 proposition, but the business man took his time and finished his letter. After sealing it, stamping it and dropping it in the mail, he hurried out and joined the prospective buyer. “Had to finish a letter,” he said. “It was to mother and dad. Hadn’t | written them for two weeks.” The man might be held up as an example to a lot of us. As a rule, people who have old parents are not ’ thoughtful enough in regard to them. After tbe average person passes three score years and ten there is little in 1 life to interest him but the welfare of bis loved ones. And if these loved : ones are far away, what can bring more joy to an old heart but a letter ? Think! Don’t yon know of an old gray-haired man or woman who is yearning for a letter, or even a [ short note, from you? I SURPRISED HIM. I A one-armed man entered a restur i ant and seated himself next to a dap per little other-people’s-business man. t The latter noticed his neighbor’s left sleeve hanging loose and kept eyeing * it in a how-did-it-happen sort of away. ! Finally, the inquisitive one couldn’t 5 stand it any longer. He changed his position a little, cleared his throat and 1 said: 1 “I beg pardon, sir ; butl seeyon’ve lost an arm.” > The one-armed man picked up his 1 sleeve with his right hand and peered anxiously into it. 1 “Bless my soul!” he exclaimed, looking up with great surprise, “Ibe ' lieve you’re right!” 1 . 1 She —“If a man loves his wife as much as she loves bim, he will stop - wasting all his money on cigars if she ’ asks him.” He—“ Yes; but if his wife loves ’ him as much as she ought to love a 1 man who loves her enough to stop it t if she asks him, she won’t ask him!” %,' m ■ 5 A good neighbor is as great a bless [ as a bad one isn’t. ESTABLISHED 1860. GBAHT’S GBATITUDE General Grant’s kindness of heart and deep sense of obligation are seen in a pleasing light in a story told by the St. Louis Republic. While the general was President he visited St. Louis, and Mr. Garrison, president of a railroad, took him out for a drive. On the way they met a shabby old man in his shirt sleeves. Grant recognized the man and stop ped the buggy. He got out, extend ed his hand said : “Hello, Uncle Ben ! How are you and your wife getting along?’’ The old man greeted the President, and said that they were getting along very well; they were happy if they had enough to eat and if he could get a little tobacco for his pipe. “Uncle Ben, wouldn’t you like to be postmaster of Meramec township ?” asked the President. Uncle Ben said he would not ob ject, and Grant shook him by the band and said, “God bless you and your wife, Uncle Ben. I think of you of ten.” When Grant got back in the buggy he was much moved, and said to Mr. Garrison: “Poor old Uncle Ben 1 He has a big heart. I remember when I and my wife, living in that house over there, did not have any more to eat than we needed, and Uncle Ben would come around to the house at night and leave a basket of provisions on the doorsteps. He was afraid to come and give them to us, thinking that he might possibly hurt our feel ings. God bless his memory I” The President did not forget his promise. Uncle Ben was soon made postmaster. The payment of personal debts by means of public office is not to be defended, but the public con science was not then aroused as it is now. THE POPULAB GIBL. There are two kinds of popular girls. One is admired by the crowd ; the other is loved by the individual. One is sure to be spoken of as “fasci nating the other is not spoken of very much at all. But every one who knows her says softly, with an air of having made a rare discovery : “Ah, I like that girl! I feel as if I had been looking for her always. She is the dearest girl in the world.” The popular girl of the first men tioned class is easy enough to appre ciate and to understand. Every one finds her attractive. Her popularity is obvious. In fact, nearly every thing about her, all her charm, seems to be rather obvious. All her easy magnetism shows off prettily at first glance. She makes no particular ap peal to you as an individual, but she fascinating,' and you know that every one else finds her fascinating too. She is the “popular” girl, It does not occur to many people to describe the other girl as “popular.” She never challenges the attention of the crowd. She is unassuming and unaffected, very much interested in other persons and wholly unconscious of herself. She is not strikingly beautiful. Even the keenness of her remarkably fine mind has in it no ob trusive surface brilliance. She has none of the airs and graces, the small coquetries, of the girl who is an ac knowledged belle. She has none of the obvious charms of the “popular” girl. There is nothing obvious about her at all. Yet every one who talks with her ten minutes feels the personal compulsion of her quiet, unsought charm. “TUBE ABOUT IS FAIB PLAY.” Mrs. Phelps Stokes, at a dinner in New York, condemned the customary treatment of servants. “On account of this treatment,” she said, “intelli gent young men and women keep out of service, despite the good pay and the comfort. “But who can blame them? In a court of law one day a man cook was testifying, and simply because he was a cook, everybody there from the judge down to the crier, felt at liberty to call him by his first name. Had he been a drummer or a clerk they would have called him Mr. Smith. But, no —he was in service. “A young governess, a Vassargirl, who was present during the trial, turned to me and said that she, as a governess, met with just such treat ment on all sides. “She said that on the lawn of the ; country house her mistress once intro duced her to a gentleman. ‘Miss Jones,’ so the introduction ended, ‘is | our governess, you know. ’ The governess looked at her mis -1 tress expectantly, as if waiting for something. At last she said : ‘I beg ‘ your pardon —but what does the gen tlemen do?’ 1 “‘What do you mean?’said the mis -1 tress haughtily. “ ‘You have told him my occupa tion,’ said the governess. ‘Now I want to know his, so that the acquain tance may start fair.’ ” ST. PBTBB AHD THE WIDOWEB. Bernard Robbins, head of the legal ; department of New York’s Court of Tears—this charity helps the poor to t adjust their marital troubles without 5 going to the expense of lawsuits —said l the other day to a newspaper man: “Such work as mine makes you, if : you are not careful, pessimistic about marriage, so that you find yourself 5 telling grimly over and over again the 1 story about St. Peter and the widower. “What? You don’t know the sto , ry? Well, it seems that two souls • approached St. Peter side by side, and the younger was repulsed sternly by " s the saint on the ground that since he s had never been married he had never P known suffering. e “The older man advanced with glad confidence. He stated that he s had been married twice, a “But he, too, the saint repulsed, t saying, “This is no place for fools.” WiGG—“lt is better to begin at the >- ! bottom of the ladder.” Wagg—“Yes, | then you won’t have so far to fall.”