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VOL. 60. WHOLE No. 2302.
THE COMMERCIAL BANK OF MARYLAND BELVEDERE AVENUE, Near Relsterstown Road, ARLINGTON, Md. O'— CAPITAL STOCK, $25,000. — o —.—* 3STO "W OPEN FOIX BTTSIUSTIESS ■ B- Dora • general Banking Hniineit In all that 1. consistent with safe and careful man agement. The location of onr Bank make. It the most convenient place for a large number of realdenta of Baltimore county to tranaact their financial bualneaa. During the short time our Bank haa been open for bualueee the. amount of depoelta haa reached a aucceaa far la evceae of oar expectation.. We have a SATIKOH DEPARTMENT and pay Internet ea money depoelted there. Call and eee ua and we will explain why It will he to your advantage to open an account with ua. Prompt attention given to all collection bealaeea animated to ua. —.OFFICERS: — CHAM. T. COCRET. dr., JOHN K. CELT ICR, let Tlao-Preetdont. CUARLU K. SMITH, President. HOWARD K. JACKION, Sd Tlce-Preeldent. Caahler. —DIRECTORS: CM4KI.KM r. COCKSY, dr., HOWARD R. dACRAOK. ROBERT H. McMAMMS. AKTHI H W. RICHOIAOM. d. B. WAttM, MAX IMRBJ. doltH R. CVtTAR, OROROB W. ALT, H. D. HAMMOND. d. PRANA AHIPLKT, H. D. KAATMAH. Dec. M-ly Second National. Bank TOWSON, Md. BOXES BOXES SAFE DEPOSIT BOXES SECOND NATIONAL BANK OF TOWSON, •0.00 FBR TZIAH, FOR YOUR VALUABLES. BOXES BOXES -lOPPIOBRS1 — Thomas W. Offutt, Elmer J. Cook, l vice-presidents Thos. j. meads, President. Harrison Rider, > Cashier. THOMAB W. 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. Feb. 6—ly TALK4I J > Did It ever occur to you why all good bualneaa men keep a checking account 4 [ 4 | with a Bank ? We’ll tell yon. * , 4 [ It enablea them to keep their funda In a more aecure place than the bureau * 4 ' , drawer or an old aook hid in the raftera. ] ' * 1 It givea them a better atanding In the bnaineaa world. ‘ > 1 , It enablea them to pay their billa by check, the returned check being an 4 * , > nndlaputable receipt. 4 | , • Individuals alao find a checking account very convenient and a source of < J 4 | saving. * 1 4 | Money in one’s pocket Is often spent on the spur of the moment, while one ' 1 ' 1 is disposed to think twice before drawing on his balance In the Bank. , ► | > Get the saving habit. Lay up for a rainy day. Start an account with “THE 4 | < > OLD RELIABLE.” < J 5 * t3F*Pay your Gas Bills at this Bank. < [ !;The Towson National Bank, ii j; TOWSON, IMlti. ;: JOHN CROWTHER, DUANE H. RICE, W. C. CRAUMER, i; < President. Vice-President. Cashier. 4 > Qct. .Stock 2*arms. iti View Mil Oakl'igh Station, Md. & Pa. R. R., U MiUI FROM TOWSON. Constantly on hud 4 LARGE STOCK OF MULES, TO SUIT ALL PURPOSES. —ALSO— Coach, Driving, : Tfftn find Saddle and :: : ■ 1111 \H \ General Purpose iIUIIUUU FOR 8A LB OR EXCHANGE. WHORBES BOARDED-W C. A P. TELEPHONE. DUANE H.“raOE, Prop’r, TOWSON, Md. Ocfc34-lV GROVE FARM FALLS ROAD, North of Brooklandville, Md. PRIZE WINNING— Guernsey Cattle, Berkshire Hogs, Shropshire Sheep. FOR SALE— A Few Registered Heifers, Between 4 months and 3 years old Apply to JAS. McK. MERRTMAN, R. F. D. Lutherville. Md. C. A P. Telephone—Towson 42. Oct. 24—ly Ralph W. Rider, Livery, Sales and Exchange STABLES, WEST CHESAPEAKE AVENUE, Near the York Road, TOWSON, Md. First-Class Teams and Automdbilea -FOR HIRE.- GOOD SERVICE and REASONABLE PRICES. Deo. 12—3 m ESTABLISHED 1876. BOTH PHONES. DANIEL~ RIDER, 1001 GREENMOUNT AVENUE, BALTIMORE, Md., COMMISSION * MERCHANT For the Sale of Hay, Grain and Straw. Orders for Mill Feed, Gluten Feed, Cotton Seed Meal, Oil Cake Meat, Salt, Ac., will receive prompt attention. [ApL 4—ly SKiacellattexma. Muller & Yearley, HARNESS, TRUES and BAGS, 343 N. Gay Street, BALTIMORE, Md. Blankets and Robes. In addition to Regular Line we offer BIG LINE OF MILL SAMPLES AT BARQAIN PRICES. Blankets. From SI.OO up. Lap Robes “ $2.00 ,r awlt will pay you to aee them. Special induce ments to early buyers. poor GOOD WHIP WITH EACH PRPP 4 Hull BLANKET. a RJuJu QcLlOtMayao WM. J. BIDDISON; FIRE INSURANCE ACENT Fire, Tornado and Windstorm Poli cies Issued. 3\TO ASSESSMBKrT. —RH PRESENTING — HUME FIRE INSURANCE CO. OF N. Y„ Assets $30,000,000.00: GIRARD FIRE A MARINE INSURANCE CO. OF PHILA., Assets $2,141,263.78. Office—Belair Road and Maple Avenue. Raapebnrg P, 0., Baltimore County, Md. C. A P. and Maryland Phones. KT"A share of patronage will be appreciated. Jan. 3—ly Dr. A. O. McOURDY & CO., TOWSON, Md. Orders received for— ALL KINDS OF SLATE. Peach Bottom Roofing Slate, wtw Slabs for Walks, J. Cemetery BlShs, * Imposing stones, Ac., Ae. on or address as above. 0. A P. Phone—Towson 83 R. [July 4—ly GOOD IF TRUE. I bunted for eleven weeks, (Well, more or leas) I climbed o’er twenty-seven peaks, (Well, more or less) Now listen to my thrilling tale, And do not dare to doubt or rail, I killed just seven hundred quail— (Well, more or lees!) I ate two hundred at my meals (Well, more or less). Till I am quail from ears to heels (Well, more or lees). And then, of course, it seems quite queer. But strictly true each statement here, I shot well-nigh five hundred doer— (Well, more or less!) Of birds and beasts I got most tired, (Well, more or less), And fish I ever bad admired (Well, more or less). So then I wandered all about. And caught—there’s not the slightest doubt— Exactly one round thousand trout— (Well, more or less!) —Town Tuples. A K ATT EH OF lIIAD. 1Y CARROLL WATSON RANKIN. The Martins, father and son, were in partnership. Mr. Martin, a vision ary person with no practical experi ence, mismanaged the Shingleton end of the business, where noisy sawmills cat mighty northern Michigan logs into lumber. Robert ran the office in Bayport, the nearest shipping point. Owing to a carious lack of judgment, both men proved round pegs in square boles. When the once considerable Martin property bad dwindled to two idle mills, hopelessly remote from availa ble timber, and a few acres of stump age that nobody wanted for farming purposes, Mr. Martin died. Before this the older Martins had lived in Shingleton. Robert and his young wife had dwelt in Bayport, twenty miles distant. Now Robert sold all that was portable of the Shin gleton property, and, with many mis givings, decided to move his mother to Bayport. “You’ll never agree in the wide world,” said Robert, divulging his plan to his wife. “Both you and mother are first-class of your kind ; but you’re not the same kind.” “I’m not perfect,” said Petrina, modestly. “And you know, Bob, I’ve always prided myself on my adaptability. If you’ll just keep me bolstered with timely bits of informa tion, I’ll have things just the way your mother likes them. I’m going to pose as a model daughter-in-law.” “Wouldn’t it be safer and a whole lot easier to be just yourself? I’m sorry that the business—” “Cheer up, deary; things might be worse, and so far your mother and I have agreed beautifully.” “At a distance,” demurred Robert. “You’ve never lived together. But until I’ve discovered exactly how poor we are, one roof is all we can afford.” “I’ll make it big enough,” assured Petrina, comfortingly. Mrs. Martin, senior, was squarely and solidly built. She made one think of a substantial business block constructed for utility only. She swept on Friday, baked beans on Thursday, washed on Monday, wound her clock at 9 every Saturday night, and bought six new pillow-cases every January. Mrs. Martin, junior, sent her wash ing out, swept only when the house demanded sweeping, and at irregular intervals bought beans ready-baked from a woman’s exchange. Yet Pe trina made Robert comfortable, her household expenses were not exces sive, and, moreover, she trimmed her own hats and made her own shirt waists. Petrina knew that Mrs. Martin had baked bread every Wednesday and Saturday for thirty years—and had grown gray worrying over what to do with the surplus. Petrina had purchased a loaf at a time, as she needed it, from a breadmaking neigh bor. Instead of confessing, however, that her bread was acquired in this easy manner, young Mrs. Martin, feeling certain that the knowledge would shock Robert’s mother, foolishly at tempted to conceal it. She colored guiltily when the older woman praised the loaf; yet, having failed at the proper moment to disclose the truth, Petrina felt obliged thereafter to smug gle bread in at the back door. As the week wore on the culprit realized that it would never do to serve a perfectly fresh loaf every sec ond day, since that would certainly rouse suspicion; so she purchased stale loaves and ate them unhappily. When they were good only for toast, she was moved to further effort. “Robert,” she confided one morn ing, “I’m afraid I’ll have to live up to my reputation for breadmaking. But I couldn’t attempt to set bread with your mother looking on. Could you not take her sightseeing for a few hours ? If the coast were clear until 1 o’clock, the worst of the agony would be over. I’ll use compressed yeast; they say that rises quickly. But I never could handle sticky things gracefully—she’d detect my inexperi ence at once.” “Why not get mother to show you how?” “And let her discover that I mar ried her son without knowing how to make bread ? I wish to keep her ad miration and respect. Take her to the Indian Museum by the Elmwood trolley—it’s the slowest. Please help me out, Bob!” So Robert yielded. The coast clear, Petrina set her bread. Now bread dough, as everybody knows, is the most untrustworthy stuff in the culi nary kingdom. Occasionally even an experienced cook encounters a batch of dough that seems possessed to go wrong. All other times dough that seems in its early stages unpromising develops unexpectedly into good bread. Petrina’s dough misbehaved from the very outset to the bitter end. The flour refused to associate with the water, the little gray-green puddles of yeast declined also to mix ; the shortening floated loftily in exclusive islands. “It’s either too wet or too dry,” said Petrina, peering doubtfully into the pan. “Yet three quarts of water ought surely to be enough. I think TOWSON. MD., SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 20. 1909. I’ll try the egg-beater. Ugh! What spattery stuff!” Although Petrina likewise tried the toasting-fork, the potato-masher and various other stirring implements, the mixture still refused to mix. “Perhaps it’ll run together as it rises,” breathed Petrina, washing the discarded utensils. “But I wish to goodness I hadn’t pretended to be a breadmaker when I’m not. Think of doing all this twice a week !” An hour later the doubtful cook added flour and a pair of reluctant hands to the still exceedingly sticky baiter. “I’m a web-footed duck !” groaned Petrina, eyeing her fettered fingers with repugnance. “I need somebody to keep me scraped off. Mercy ! It’ll be a year before this mess is ready to knead. And tbe cook-book’s gone shut. And how can I get more flour with these hands?” In time, however, the sticky mess grew smoother and firmer, until at last the huge cold ball looked and felt like real dough. Petrina scraped the dried batter from her coated fin gers and looked at the clock. It was later than she had supposed. “But,” said she, complacently, “the worst is over. I’ll get all this flour cleaned up, and nobody’ll ever guess wbat a siege I’ve been through. I’ll have that bread in tbe oven by i o’clock.” But Petrina reckoned without her dough. The yeast, chilled by the long mixing, had perhaps become dis couraged. At the end of an hour the leaden mass showed no sign of rising. At half-past 12 the telephone rang. “Hello!” sounded Robert’s warn ing voice, ‘'if you’ve any evidences of guilt to conceal you’d better be about it. Mother’s had enough of sight-seeing,and is on her way home. ’ ’ Anything to conceal! That hideous mound of leaden dough—surely no mother-in-law could be permitted to behold a failure like that! But where, in that tiny, one-storied, cot tage, could one conceal a crime of such magnitude ? “Perhaps,” thought Petrina, “that dough might be squeezed into some thing smaller.” She seized the shining water pail, and poked and punched the enormous cold lump into it. But where should she hide the pail ? Apparently the house afforded no concealment for large tin pails of dough. She was about to move the heavy davenport in the living room,in order to make space behind it for the pail, when Mrs. Mar tin became visible from the window. Darting impetuously into the guest room, Petrina hastily lifted the lid of her mother-in-law’s trunk, which she knew to be empty, dropped the pail inside, and thought she closed the lid. Unfortunately, she did not know that the lid had a trick of sticking. Of course, with all that dough on her conscience, Petrina was not en tirely care-free that afternoon ; but now, at least, she possessed a definite plan. The ash barrel, unfortunately, discovered overflowing in her moment of need, should be emptied the next day. Robert should once more spirit the guest away, and Petrina would remove the dough to the barrel, cover it neatly with ashes, and run to the exchange for a ready-made batch of bread. It seemed a good plan, but it was never carried out. While dressing for dinner that even ing, Mrs. Martin noticed that the trunk lid was ajar, and by the same token knew at once that some one had had it open. She bad an imme diate and alarming vision of thieves in the house—quickly modified to her intense bewilderment when, seeing something white through the open crack, she realized that whoever had tampered with her trunk had put something into it! In the next sec ond she guessed what had happened. The thieves, interrupted, had thrust their booty hastily into the trunk 1 Summoning all her courage, Mrs. Martin raised the lid and looked in. Now it happened that the trunk, with the pail resting in the deep, open tray, stood within two inches of an active hot air register; and bread dough, as everybody knows, is con trary, untrustworthy stuff. Having refused to rise at the proper time, now, when nobody wanted it to rise, it was making up for its earlier defi ciency. Swollen to four times its original bulk, the clean, vigorous dough filled the tray with rounded, puffy pillows. The trunk seemed literally filled with it. “Petrina!” called the bewildered lady. “Robert! Come here ! What on earth is this?” “It’s—it’s bread !” stammered Pe trina, guiltily. “I spoiled it and — and hid it.” “Spoiled it!” exclaimed Mrs. Mar tin. “Why, it’s just right to go in the pans. But, my dear child, there must be enough here for ten loaves. Do you always make so much? And why did you put it here?” Of course, since there was nothing else to do, Petrina told the whole story. “Dear, dear !” laughed Mrs. Mar tin. “And I thought thieves had been here ! Don’t scare me like that again. There’s that ‘woman’s ex change’ place, with everything so good and so reasonable. Why in the world do you bother to bake when you live almost next door to a treas ure like that. I’d have suggested it long ago but for fear you’d think I was criticising. Bless you, child, if I were as smart with a needle as you are, I’d buy all my bread, too !” “This is the last time,” declared Petrina, scooping armfuls of dough into the bread-pan, “that I’ll ever pretend to be more of anything than I am.” — Youth’s Companion. “Ever been in jail ?” “Countless times. But that’s no detriment to a : man in my business.” “And what : is your business?” “I’m a chauffeur.” The new minister : “Do you know • who I am, my little man?” Little ■ Billie: “Certainly. Don’t you know : who you are?” MONEY TALKS. Every responsible person has, or should bave, the ambition to make and save money, not in the spirit of greed that prompts the miser to hoard his gold, but in the sense of thrift that stores up dollars against require ments of the future. It is every sen sible person’s wish to reach a time in life when they can point to a snug competence and feel that it is their own to use and spend as they may see fit. This gratifying state of affairs can only be reached by rigid self denial until a start is made, and by careful management and prudent investment afterward. Earning power gives the opportunity to save, and saving ju diciously and persistently produces tbe results desired. Begin early to save even a little, increase tbe amounts laid by as better earnings warrant, and the habit so started becomes a fixed purpose, bringing at last a con dition that proves the wisdom of sys tematic saving. The expression, “Money Talks,” is an apt one, and its conversation is particularly pleasant to the person with a reasonably well filled purse or snng bank account, as the time ar rives when necessity or opportunity for safe investment calls for its use. It is decidedly embarrassing, not to say distressing, to be without money or proof of its possession when obli gations are to be met, comforts of every day life are needed, ora “rainy day” comes. Then is brought forci bly home the error of improvidence and the manifold benefits of careful saving. With every bank having a saving department and numerous building and loan associations, the problem of profitable saving is solved in tbe easi est manner. Managed by officers of integrity, and with the best possible' system of investing, thrift and econo my is encouraged by a degree of se curity not afforded by other means of saving. In addition the feature of the accu mulation of interest on savings de posited commends itself to the depos itor and insures a steady increase of the amount laid by. Our own com munity is reaping the benefits of a a splendid building and loan associa tion that has been the means of pro viding cosy homes for many industri ous stockholders, or has furnished capital to start a successful business. These results would probably not have been possible under other circum stances. The habit of spending without sav ing once acquired rarely has but one end, that ofa hand to-moutbexistence and a constant struggle to make both ends meet. It fosters extravagance, poor management and lack of thrift, and no matter bow prosperous or how hard the times, the income is spent to the limit. On the other hand, the saving habit, without any tending to ward miserliness, grows into prosper ity, comfortable living, a sure source of satisfaction and a safe-guard against inevitable future need. When the amount of savings reaches a point where it is drawing interest your money begins to talk, and to talk insistently for the good work to be continued. Then is the time to lis ten to its voice and profit by its ad monition. CHANGE OF CLIMATE HELPED. Some time ago tbe Virginia state line was altered so as to include a patch of territory heretofore belong ing to North Carolina. A section of the land thustranferred included a tumbledown cabin where dwelt an aged negro woman. An inquisitive neighbor, calling to see how the negress enjoyed the idea of becoming a Virginian in her old age, began the conversation by ask ing : “How is the rheumatism, auntie?” “Bettah, praise de Lawd !” was the reply. •‘And the neuralgia?” “All gone. Clean depa’ted !” “And the the stiff knee ?” “Frisky as a li’ colt!” “Why, auntie, how on earth do you happen to be so much better all of a sudden?” “Well, miss,” replied the auntie proudly, “Ah always done heah dat Virginny climate’sa heap healthiah’n de climate of No’th Ca’lina. Ah reckon dat sho’ ’counts fo’ ma change fo’ de bettah.” — Detroit Free Press. THE GENTLE SEX AGAIN. The patient conductor had been waiting for their fares for fully a min ute. Each insisted upon paying. “It is my turn,” spoke up the one in blue, “and I am going to pay just as soon as I can find that dime.” “No; I insist,” spoke up the one in brown. “Here it is, conductor.” “I shall never forgive you. I was just about to —” “Ob, I made a mistake! That was a penny. Give it back, and —” “Gracious ! lam so glad. Here are the two fares, conductor.” The one in blue paid. When she reached home she said to her hus band : “The stingy thing! She just pick ed up that penny as a bluff ! I’ll never go shopping with her again 1” And the one in brown said to her better half; “Close ! I never saw such a close woman in all my life. Why, she ac tually forced me to pay both fares ! Isn’t it queer how stingy some people can be ?”— Chicago News. The country parson was condoling with the bereft widow. “Alas!” he continued, earnestly, “I can not tell you how pained I was to learn that your husband had gone to heaven. We were bosom friends, but we shall never meet again.” “You would be a good dancer but for two things. ” “ What are they ?’ ’ “Your feet.” If you are fond of giving advice, be a doctor or a lawyer, and get paid for it. SONS OF THE PRESIDENTS. “Blood will tell” is a common re mark regarding the successful sons of sturdy stock. To what extent it “tells” is an interesting question. The sons of Presidents of the United States present illustrations for the test of the problem for Americans. Whether the application of this test will answer tbe question to the satis faction of many may be left to those who care to spend the time to debate it. Several of our Presidents have had no sons, or were childless. George Washington left no sons to perpetuate his name or daughters to transmit his blood. The descendants of John Adams are as good an illustration as one could find of the theory that blood counts. John Quincy Adams, a son, became a President. Charles Francis Adams, a grandson, while serving as United States Minister to Great Bri tain through Lincoln’s administration effectually prevented the sympathy of England for the South from being openly avowed, and earned the repu tation of ranking second only to Ben jamin Franklin in the history of Amer ican diplomacy and of ranking with Grant in the services of preserving the Union. Charles Francis Adams, Jr., a great-grandson, who isstill liv ing, was president of tbe Union Pa cific Railroad for a number of years. All have been noted for their culture and literary ability. Thomas Jefferson had two daughters, ; Madison, Jackson and Buchanan had no children, the last for the very good reason that he was a bachelor. Ben jamin Harrison, a grandson of Wil liam Henry Harrison, became Presi dent. The children of Presidents Fillmore and Pierce did not live to accomplish anything of moment. One of the sons of President Van 1 Buren was a graduate of West Point, and besides being breveted for gallan- 1 try in the Mexican War was noted 1 for his conquest of Angelica Singleton, a Southern beauty; the other, “Prince John,” was a lawyer, and posed as a leader of fashion. He represented Edwin Forrest, the fa mous actor, in the latter’s effort to di- 1 vorce his wife. Richard, the cultiva ted son of President Zachary Taylor, attained the rank of lieutenant gen eral in the Confederate Army, fighting 1 throughout the Civil War. 1 There are twenty-one sons of Uni- ' ted States Presidents and two of a President-elect now living. It may 1 surprise some to learn that not only j is a son of President John Tyler liv- 1 ing, but that he is in the prime of life. ‘ He is Lyon Gardiner Tyler, President of William and Mary College, of Vir ginia, an institution in the making of ! the history and traditions of which 1 more than one of the earlier Presidents ’ of the country had an active part. • i Mr. Tyler was born in 1853, eight years after the close of his father’s ’ term as President. His mother was ' Julia Gardiner, of Gardiner’s Island, ! New Ycrk. She was among the guests of President Tyler on the war j vessel Princeton when the boiler of 1 that ship blew up. Her father, who was one of the party, was killed. His 1 body was taken to the White House. ; The young woman was thrown into the society of the President through the peculiar circumstances surround ing her father’s death. President Tyler’s first wife had been dead two > or three years. He and Miss Gardi- ] ner were married on June 26, 1844. The only living son of President 1 Lincoln is Robert Todd Lincoln, Pres ident of the Pullman Company. He ; was born exactly ten years prior to 1 Mr. Tyler,and is therefore sixty-five ( years old. He was Secretary of War through the Garfield-Arthur adminis tration and Minister to the Court of St. James through Benjamin Harri son’s administration. He was coun- 1 sel for the Pullman Company and be came its president upon the death of George M. Pullman. He was dis cussed as a candidate to succeed Presi dent Arthur as the national executive. President Johnson had two daugh ters and no sons. Three sons of President Grant are living. They are General Frederick Dent Grant, who gave up command of the Department of the East recent ly to go to Chicago to take command of the Department of the Lakes; Ulysses S. Grant and Jesse R. Grant. Besides his army service, General Grant has been a police commissioner in New York and Minister to Austria. Ulysses S. Grant, who is a lawyer, lives in San' Diego, Cal. Jesse R. Grant, like Ulysses S. Grant, his brother, has lived an uneventful life, so far as the public is concerned. He was educated for tbe law, but has taken a great deal of interest in min ing projects. His home is slso in San Diego, Cal. Among the living descendants of President Hays are four sons —Bir- chard, a lawyer, of Toledo ; Colonel Webb C., of Fremont, Ohio ; Ruther ford Platt, of Ashville, N. C., and Scott. Colonel Hayes is an alumnus of Cornell and acted for a time as his father’s secretary. Later he entered business life, and on the outbreak of the Spanish American War volunteered for tbe field. He was a member of General Young’s staff, and afterwards saw service in the Philippines. He won a medal of honor for personal gallantry in the action at Vigan, in December, 1899. Two of the four living sons Presi dent Garfield are well known to the public. They are Harry A., his eld est son, the president of Williams College, and James Rudolph, his sec ond son, who is Secretary of the In terior. The others are Irvin McDow ell, of Boston, a lawyer, and Abram, of Cleveland, an architect. Harry was born in 1863, and James in 1865. President Arthur left only one son, Chester Alan, who lives at Colorado Springs, Col. He is not engaged in business, being content to live upon bis personal fortune. He went to Colorado Springs for his health about fourteen years ago. Colonel Russell B. Harrison, the only son of President Benjamin Har- rison, served in the Spanish-American War in Cuba and Porto Rico. He is a lawyer and civil engineer, and lives in Indianapolis. The future lies before tbe sons of Presidents Cleveland and Roosevelt and President-elect Taft. President Cleveland, who was married in tbe White House while serving his first term, left two sons, Richard, ten years old, and Francis Grover, four years old, besidesitwodaughters. President Roosevelt’s sons are Theodore, a re cent graduate of Harvard, who is now learning the carpet manufacturing business; Kermit, who is in Har vard, but will take part in tbe African trip of bis father as photographer, and Archie and Quentin, who are getting over any tendencies they may have towards molly-coddleism by practicing foot ball tactics with their boy playmates in Washington. Robert, the eighteen-year-old son of President-elect Taft, is endeavoring to sustain the college traditions of his father at Yale, while Charles P., the yonnger son, is still keeping his pa rents interested in him by his adven tures and investigations of all the phenomena which present themselves before his keen eyes. A CASE OF CONSCIENCE. “No, I’m npt whistling and sing ing because business is good,” re plied the hardwaredrummer. “What ails me is because I have a clear con science for the first time in three years.” “Have you confessed to murder?” was asked. “Gentlemen, don’t try to be funny. This is a sacred thing. I was in Boston three years ago, and I picked up a package on the street. On open ing it I found seventy-five SI,OOO bills. The name of the loser was there, but I took that money and got out of town by the first train. My conscience told me that I was as bad as a thief, but I tried to stifle it.” “A drummer with a conscience?” sneered three of the listeners in cho rus. “I went to Chicago with the mon ey,” continued the drummer, “and invested it in real estate. I knew it was wrong, bat I did it. Six months ago I found myself worth $200,000. Conscience would not down. It got so bad that I couldn’t look even a confidence man in the face. At length I started for Boston and hunted up the loser of the wealth. I found him in his office and told my story. When it was finished I laid my all before him and asked his forgiveness.” “And what did he do !” “I will tell you what he did, and I shall never forget It. He looked at me and saw how I was suffering, and he took me by the hand and said in a fatherly way: “ ‘My friend, suffer no more. I was going to a poker game when I lost that money, and it would have gone anyhow.’ “But what in thunder are you do ing on the road if you are worth $200,000?” shouted a voice. “Conscience again, gentlemen — conscience. It won’t let me retire and leave you fellows to do all the lying !” — Cincinnati Enquirer. RELATING TO NOTES. Demand notes are payable on pre sentation, without grace, and bear legal interest. An indorser on a de mand note is held only for a limited time, variable in different States. A negotiable note must be made payable either to bearer, or be prop erly indorsed by the person to whose order it is made, and if the indorser wishes to avoid responsibility, he must indorse with the words “Without Recourse.” A joint note is one signed by two or more persons, each of whom be comes liable for the whole amount. Notes dated or drawn on Sunday are void. Alteration of a note by the holder renders it void. Notes given by minors are void. Tbe maker of a note that is lost or stolen, is not released from payment if the amount and consideration can be proven. Notes obtained by fraud, or given by an intoxicated person, cannot be collected. An indorser has a right of action against all the indorsers whose names appear on a note indorsed by him. Deposits of money in a bank to the credit of depositors can be withdrawn by check for full amount due. THE NEW YORK IDEA. “Little boy.” “Huh?” “Do you know where Broadway is?” “Say, wot youse take me fer ?” “Well, where is it ?” “Aw, don’t youse believe I know? ” “Yes, of course, but I don’t know. Tell me how to get therefrom here.” “Aw, youse know how.” “I do not. I am a stranger. I haven’t the least idea where it is.” “Quit yer kiddin’.” "Where —is —Broadway ?” “G’wan !” “This way or that way?” “Yer stringin’ me.” “Will you tell me where Broadway is?” “Hey, Jimmy, here’s a guy wot sez he don’t know where Broadway is!” — New York Times. On leaving his study, which is in the rear of the church, the pastor of a church in Brooklyn saw a little boy, a friend of his, talking to a stranger. “What was he saying to you, Dick?” asked the divine, as he came up to the youngster. “He just wanted to know whether Dr. Blank was the preacher of this church.” “And what did you tell him?” “I told him,” responded the lad with dignity, “that you were the present encumbrance.” When he marries, a man should close his past and sit on the lid. ESTABLISHED 1850. TALK OK KAKIXAOB. ‘•You may say what you like about the ‘Time the Place and the Girl,' but, after all, tbe time and the place have a lot more to do with tbe making of matches than the girl,” said the spinster with a fondness for statistics. “I've been getting up some data on the subject and I hud that in nine cases out of ten the circumstances — tbe mood a man is in, the clothes a girl happens to be wearing when they meet—-have more to do with matrimo ny than the little blind god himself. And as to marriages being made in heaven —” tbe spinster shrugged away that suggestion with contempt. ‘‘Every wedding leaves some wo man wondering ‘what he saw in her.' I myself have made the remark apro pos of half a dozen married women I know, and in several cases when I knew the people pretty well, I’ve in quired of the husband where and un der what circumstances he fell in love.” ‘‘And what have you learned ?” she was asked. ‘‘l learned that two of the things that most appeal to men are helpless ness and a certain dainty femininity of attire that some women affect — which puts the tailormade girl out of business every time. “One man told me that he was first smitten by love’s dart while crossing the street behind a lady, who, on lift ing her skirts from the dust displayed lingerie of the dainty, fluffy order that stamps a girl, to the masculine mind, as a ‘sweet, feminine creature.’ He followed up the girl—and the oppor tunity. The result was matrimony and a charming flat. Then he awoke to the fact that the femininity was a mere matter of laundry bills; and the lady was in reality one of the sort that insisted on having her own way and his too; she was, in fact, a bully of the worst type. ‘‘Another man I interviewed met his fate on a railroad train. She was in the act of struggling with a refrac tory car window. ‘Her little hands,' he said, ‘looked so pretty and help less, and, too, when he took the stub born sash in hand and forced it open, his own brawn and muscle showed up so well by contrast. Then when she looked up at him and murmured ad miringly, 'Ob, it’s lovely to be so strong !' his doom was sealed. ‘‘What though she were freckled, snub-nosed and red-haired ? She was a clinging vine, he a sturdy oak. Well, he married her, of course, and he greatly fancied bis role for a year or two; but in course of time her clinging become monotonous. He has grown tired of it, and, between you and me, I think he has some times been tempted to bring damages against that railroad company for not having its windows in working order. ‘‘And what conclusion have I reach ed on the subject you ask ? This: That after a few years the result in most cases is the same ! Disillusion ment, disappointment and dissatisfac tion on the man’s part.” ‘‘And the woman ?” ‘‘As to the woman, she, too, has her disenchantments, but then (this is strictly between ourselves) anything is better than being an old maid 1” DAMASCUS. Damascus is the oldest city in the world. Tyre and Sidon have crum bled on the shore ; Baalbee is a ruin ; Palmyra lies buried in the sands of tbe desert; Ninevah aod Babylon have disappeared from the shores of the Tigris and the Euphrates. Da mascus remains what it was before the days of Abraham —a centre of trade and travel, an island of verdure in a desert, a ‘‘predestined capital,” with martial and sacred associations ex tending beyond thirty centuries. It was near Damascus that Saul of Tarsus saw tbe light from heaven above the brightness of the sun ; the street, which is called Straight, in which it is said he ‘‘prayeth,” still runs through the city; the caraven comes and goes as it did one thousand years ago ; there is still tbe sheik, the ass and the water wheel; the mer chants of the Euphrates and the Med iterranean still occupy ‘‘with the mul titude of their wives.” The city which Mahomet surveyed from a neighboring height, and was afraid to enter, ‘‘because it is given to man to have but one Paradise, and, for his part, he was resolved not to have it in this world,” is this day, what Juli an called it, the ‘‘Eye of the East,” as it was in the time of Isaiah, ‘‘the head of Syria.” From Damascus came our damson, our blue plums and the delicious apri cot of Portugal called damasco ; dam ask, a beautiful fabric of cotton and silk with vines and flowers raised upon its smooth, bright ground; the damask rose, introduced into England in the time of Henry VII.; the dam ask blade, so famous the world over for its keen edge and remarkable elas ticity, the secret of the manufacture of which was lost when Tamerlane carried off the artists into Persia ; and that beautiful art of inlaying wood and steel with silver and gold—a kind of mosaic engraving and sculpture united, called damaskeening, with which boxes and bureaus, swords and gums are ornamented. It is still a city of flowers and bright waters; the streams of Lebanon, the “river of Damascus,” “the river of gold,” still murmurs and sparkles in i the widerness of Syrian Gardens. ‘ A young woman overheard an old f negress call to a pickaninny, “Come back, Exy, Exy!” ■ “Excuse me,” said the young wo man, “but isn’t that a queer name 5 for a baby, aunty ?” “Dat ain’t her full name,” explain ed the old woman, with pride; “dat’s 5 jes’ de pet name I call fer short. Dat chile got a mighty grand name. Her ma picked it out in a medicine book. * Yessum, de chile’s full name is Ec- S ______ Honest toil may be ennobling, but I it doesn’t always succeed in paying off the mortgage.