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H mrmM »AWO Volume XX2. Helena, Montana, Thursday, February 9, 1888. No. 11 gVlMü ^(jcralil. R. E. FISK 0. W. FISK. ». J. FISK Publishers and, Proprietors. Largest Circulation of any Paperin Montana Rates of Subscription. WEEK LY °HEKA LD : Oue Year, (in advance) .............................83 00 Six Months, (In advance)............................... 1 75 Three Months, (in advance)........................... 1 00 When not paid for in advance the rate will be Four Dollars per yeaii Postage, in all cases, Prepalo. DAILY HERALD: City Si. hscribers.delivered by carrier 81.00a month One Year, by mail, (in advance)................. 89 00 Six Months, by mail, (in advance)............... 5 00 Three Months, by mail, (in advance)........... 2 50 If not paid in advance, 812 per annum. Entered at the Postoffice at Helena as second class matter.] *^*AII communications should be addressed to FISK BROS., Publisher!», Helena, Montana. THE TEACHER'S VISIONS. And then she lifted up her face, But started back aghast ; The room, by strange and sudden change, A'■sumcd proporiions vast. It seemed a Senate hall, and one Addressed a listening throng; Each burning word all bosoms stirred. Applause rose loud and long. The wild*red teacher thought she knew The sjieaker's voice and look. "And for his name," she said, "the same Is in my record book." The stately Senate hall dissolved, The church rose in its place. Wherein there stood a man of God, Dispensing words of grace. And thought he spoke in solem tones, And though his hair was gray. The teacher's thought was strangely wrought ; "I whipped that boy to-day." The church, a phantasm, vanished soon ; What saw the teacher then ? In c.assic glooms and alcoved rooms An author plied his pen. "My idlest lad," the teacher said. Filled with a new surprise; "Shall I behold his name enrolled Among the great and wise?" The vision of the cottage home The teacher now described ; A mother s face illumed the place Her influence sanctified. "A miracle ! a miracle ! This matron well I know \\ us but a wild and careless child Not half an hour ago. "Ami now she to her children speaks Of duty's golden rule. Her lips "repeat in accents sweet. My words to her at school." INDIRECTION. Gay is the laugh of a girl. But the girl who is laughing is gayer ; Grand is the musical strain, But grander the soul of the player. What is the tone of the harp But the breathing fortli of the spirit. Which the harper has in himself, To the spirits around him that hear it? What is the painting so fine But the thought of the artist, tiiat rushes Over the canvas in oil OB the deft points of his brushes? Just as the pastry so fine Speaks of the skill of the baker. So each invention of man Points to the mind of its maker. If there is brain in a man All his expressions will show it. Heading the lines from his pen, Judge of the power of a poet. Sweet is the form of the fuchsia, Sweeter the breath of the roses. But sweeter than all is the secret That in their growing reposes. There Is no beauty in heaven. Or in the wide world about us, Senses of beauty within Cause all the beauty without us. Great are the wonders around us, But mysteries in us are greater; And ail the endowments of man Mirror his mighty Creator. THE KING'S DAUGHTERS. The king's three little daughters, 'neath the palace windows straying. Had fallen into earnest talk that put an end to playing. And the weary king smiled once again to hear what they were saying. "It is I who love our father liest."' the eldest daughter said ; "I am the oldest princess !" and her pretty face grew red ; "What is there none can do without? I love him more than bread Then-a d the second princess, with lier blight blue eyes ailame, 'Than bread ? A common thing like bread ! Thou hast not any shame ! Glad am I it isl, not thou, called by our mother's name. "I love him with a better love than one so tame as thine— More than—oh, what then shall I say that is bot h bright and fine. And is not common? Yes, I know—I love him more than wine !" Then the little youngest daughter, whose speech would sometimes halt F<»r her dreamy way of thinkiug, said, "You are liotii in fault, Tis I who love our father best—I love him more than salt." Shrill little shrieks of laughter greeted lier latest word, A * the two joined hands, exclaiming, "But this is most absurd !" And the king, no longer smiling, was grieved that he was heard. For the little youngest daughter, with her eyes of steadfast gray, Could always move his tenderness and charm his care away. "She grows more like her mother dead," he whispered, "day by day." * But she Is very little, and I will find no fault That, ulule her sisters strive to see who most shall me exalt. She holds me nothing dearer than a common tiling like salt." The portly cook was standing in the courtyard by tlie spring ; He winked ami nodded to himself, "That little <iuiet thing Knows more than both the others, as I will show the king." • That afternoon for dinner there was nothing fit to eat ; The king turned, frowning angrily, from soup, and fish and meat. And he found a cloying sweetness in dishes that were sweet. "And yet," lie muttered, musing, "I cannot find the fault. Not a tiling has tasted like itself but this honest cup of malt." Said the vaungest princess, shyly, "Dear father, they waut salt." A sudden look of tenderness shone on the king's dark face. As he sat his little daughter in the doad queen's vacant place ; And he thought, "She has her mother's heart— ave, and lier mother's grace. "Great love through smallest channels will find it- jurest way ; It waits not state occasions, which n>ay not come, or May ; It comforts and it blesses, hour by hour and day by day." of of not a his set an of the pet, a of self of the it had tion have me as seen, not is and are send the first the poet: these and head tend to of thaï with and like this haps case. has cided more guest, true the best the or tell make to same New WHAT IT'S COMING TO. Bill Nye (lives Directions About Sending Regrets, FOUND myself in II receipt of the fol lowing letter not long ago; New York, I «7. f L 5 Dec. 29, lbb" Bill Nye, Esq. Deau Sir—T he club formed for the pur pose of giving Christmas tree to its _ fellow boarders in a large private board ing house request the pleasure of your presence at the same on Dec. 31. 5Ve do not expect you to be present in fact, we would rather have a letter of regret from you. If you would so favor us it would not be published, but simply be read on the evening with other communications of a like nature, etc., etc. As there is no stamp inclosed in reply to the above letter, I have decided to reply briflv through the columns of the press. The idea of soliciting a letter of regret is original with the writer of the above, whose name is kindly suppressed. This reply will come a little late for the 1SS7 Christinas, but it may be retained for that of 1888. As one who has gladdened many a social gathering by a well worded letter of regret, I desire to state that I hail with joy this new and ingenuous method of saying distinctly in a letter of invitation whether one's regrets would be preferable to his company. This custom will finally revolutionize society, and letters of invitation will some day state dis tinctly whether the guest will afford the greatest delight to his host by accepting or declining the invitation. It will be a big thing. Eminent men, like Dr. Mary Walker anil the writer of these lines, will then have more regrets than they know what to do with. It will also simplify the matter of enter tainment itself ami render it purely a cleri cal matter. With a good typewriter a man of moderate means could issue invitations enough in one forenoon to yield a column and a half of regrets. He could then, on the evening of the banquet, congregate himself around a light collation of mush und milk, write up an ac count of the debauch and send it in to the morning pajiers, accompanied by the letters of regret, and it would read well and cost very little. Invitations might read as fol lows: Mr.-requests the pleasure of a letter from you declining aud regretting your inability to he present at his Christmas tree. The letter should not contain over 500 words and must be written only on one side of the paper. R. S. V. P. E. O. D. T. F. R. S. V. P. E. O. D. T. F. Replies should be in tne handwriting of the person invited, and should not only contain a large blue mass of regrets, but branch off in a way that would really jerk out the stinger which a letter of regrets generally contains. For instance, a letter from the president should contain, beside the pang expressed in his regret, a fragment of his message and a lock of his hair. A letter of regret from Mr. Whittier should contain an autograph poem. Ditto all poets. Statesmen declining one of these conditional invitations would be ex pected to embody portions of forthcoming speeches in their letters of regret. Artists would be expected to jerk a pen and ink sun set in the corner of their reply, suitable for an album, and musicians could insert a bar of a favorite opera. This method of swapping stationery for au tograph regrets would soon, if properly handled, yield more than a silver wedding aud t nfinitely more versatile. It prevents the wL desale tramping of cake into the car pet, because you need not have cake and you need not have any one to tramp it into the carpet. No cards, no cake, no carpet, no company. The time is approaching when a man with a lock box at the i»ostoffice, sixty cents' worth of stationery and the utmost confidence in him self can produce for publication an account of the orgies at his house, which would make the reading public extremely angry because it was not present. All of the foregoing, except the letter of invitation, is written in a tone of banter and raillery. The letter is genuine, and was written by a young man of this city. If he had said that my letter declining his invita tion would tie published, very likely I would have replied by mail, but he has maddened me by asking for a confidential autograph letter of regrets whioji would not get into print. Another form of invitation may read as follows: Compliments of Mr. and Mrs. Borntoblush Un seen, who would be tickled almost to death on re ceiving word that Mr. William Contiguously can not be present at their Christmas tree. The tree is given largely for the purj>ose of making the •people who live opposite hate themselves to death, and letters of hitter regret aud disappointment are expected from many noted people. Please send in "copy" by 9 o'clock. The transom over the door will be left open as late as 10:30 for the reception of Christmas gifts. Letters of regret may be coucned in choice language, expressing poignant grief in the first line or two and then branch out in the direction of grief, pathos, humor, patriotism, poetry, politics or trade. The following is the style which would be in best taste for a poet: My Dear Mr. and Mrs. Thj ifty—As I write these words tears well up to my surcharged orbs, and if Bunny were here I would like to lean my head in her lap and have a good cry. I cannot at tend your beautiful Christmas tree, as I shall have to remaiu at home up to a late hour writing letters of regret to people who will be bitterly disap pointed unless they receive them. Hoping that you will have a good time and see thaï this letter of regret goes into the paper straight, I remain, yours truly, etc. This custom will make every host his own historian, reporter and social biographer, and with a purple imagination, a fountain pen and a messenger boy, a man may entertain like a prince. But a sad thought comes to me as I close this column of bright anticipations. Per haps an exception has been made in my <fwn case. It nia} - be that the custom is not to become general, but that in my case the host has seen me at some other gathering and de cided that I would do better and shine with more effulgence as a regretter than as a guest, and so, with that prompt and ready discernment which should characterize the true host, he has assigned to me that part on the programme which he thought nature had best fit teil me for! And so, while fair women and brave men beneath the ruddy light sway to anti fro to the voluptuous measures of a Strauss waltz, or happy voices burst forth in song and eyes tell of love to other eyes which in return make a similar remark, I shall be permitted to fill the air and the postoffice with my vain regr*s! Hah! Oh harrowing thought ! It cannot, must not bel Once more I make the same statement, viz., "Hah! Bill Nye in New York World. a THE YOUNG FOLKS. Grandmas Usually Sympathize with ChR dreu la Trouble. A little boy was sent to the grocer's for a pail of molasses. Returning he fell and spilled it in the sand. As be wept profusely over the appaSing catastrophe, a little friend chanced to come along and asked him what he was crying for. He replied: "I have spilt the 'lasses, anti I am afraid to go home and tell my mamma. She will whip me." To which his little would be comforter answered in solemn tones, "Haven't you got a grand ma ?"—Boston Globe. A Theological Infant. Grace M. is 8 years old. When 5 years old she was in the country visiting her grand parents. There she had as a playmate Georgie, the son of a Methodist clergyman, of like tender years. While at play they were frequently annoyed by a little urchin whose society was neither congenial nor de sirable. On one occasion Gracie became sorely disgusted with the little intruder, and, throwing up her hands, exclaimed: "Well, there, I do wish Pat Fallon was in the bad placé" • "Oh, no," remonstrated the precocious son of the parson, "you wish the Lord would take him."—Boston Globe. Didn't Want to Hear. Little Walter is a very active boy, and takes no account of his steps when playing and amusing himself, but a call in the midst of fun to do some trifling errand for any member of the family produces an immediate change of pace as well as face. One morn ing bis mother, having twice sent him down stairs with messages to the servants, made a third demand for his services a few mo ments later, which so annoyed him that he angrily exclaimed: "I wish I had doors on my ears, so I couldn't hear you."—Harper's Magazine. Offering a Substitute. One day Ernest had been seriously lect ured by his mother, and finally sent to the yard to find a switch with which he was to be punished. He returned soon, and said: I couldn't find any switch, mamma; but here's a stone you can throw at me."—Harp er's Magazine. Itch and Scratch. Little Bessie—Papa, I do hate to hear your pea scratch. Papa—It's the paper, my dear. Bessie—Well, papa, can't you get some paper that doesn't itch so bad.—Burlington Free Press. Tale of the Blizzard. "Ever since the blizzard ceased," says a Minnesota paper, "work has been going for ward on excavations for the purpose of dis covering the postoffice building. A shaft is being sunk through the snow which it is hoped will strike it, but if it should not those in charge will drift north and south till it is located. Grave fears arc entertained that the postmaster may have become despondent, as he has not been heard to holler since early in the storm. He must certainly be quite lonesome, at least, as his only companion was the office cat and he very likely has been forced to use her for fuel before this time, as the lock boxes and registered letters must be exhausted ere now. Parties who live out on Eden prairie report that they had no diffi culty in finding their way heme during the storm as they kept hold of the telegraph wire. Were it not for the extreme dryness of our Minnesota air the friends of the postmaster would be very uneasy lest when he is re covered he should be found frozen as stiff as a railroad tie."—Chicago Tribune. Watched Over with Care. 7T. • qm if D. V -V« as r.td Mamma (to nurse)—What is all that noise in the nursery, Marie? Nurse—Ze leetle dog, madame, has taken Mees Flossie's candy. Mamma—Well, take it from him at once, Marie, and give it back to Miss Flossie. Poor little Fido, he mustn't eat so much candy; it might make him sick.—The Epoch. Everything Went. "Did you make enough money on your stock deal, John, to buy the sort of carriage you promised? I suppose you did, though." she added confidently; "you said you put in your money at the bottom of the market." "So I did, my dear, so I did; but the bot tom itself dropped out."—Chicago Mail. Safe Traveling Assured. Eastern Railway Manager—What's the price of coal now? Assistant—Nine dollars a ton. "Humph! Send word to the passenger brakemen to use coal very cautiously. We don't want any more car stove horrors."— Omaha World. How It Happened at Last. "Have you heard that Lily is engaged to young Fledgely?" asked Maud. "No," replied Ella. "I thought he was too bashful ever to propose." "Oh, but it's leap year, you know."—New York Evening Sun. Reason In All Things. Gentleman (to Uncle Rastus)—Why, Uncle Rastus, you never charged me thirty-five cents before for carrying in a ton of coal. Uncle Rastus—Dat's case de price hab riz, Mistah Smif. Yo' kain't expec' to git seven dollah coal carried in at de ole rates, sah.— The EpoHi. Likely. The infant king of Spain has received a present of 10,000 cigars from a tobacco planter of Havana. As the cigars presented to a person are about 75 per cent, meaner than those he buys for his own use, it is probable that the ro\al babe will continue to smoke cigars of his own purchasing and give away to his friends those presented to him.—Nor ristown Herald. to a BITS OF HUMAN NATURE. How Oglesby Was Fooled on Grant's Appearance. When Grant was appointed brigadier gen eral and ordered to Cairo to take command, Col. Oglesby was acting in that capacity. The latter had received notice of the appoint ment from the war department, and was ad vised that the new general was on his way south. * A day or so after the colonel was seated at his desk busily writing. In the room were several officers chatting together in subdued tones. The chief of the staff entered and announced the arrival of Grant. The colonel nodded and went on writing; evidently he had not understood the officer. Presently a man dressed in a plain soldier's blouse, slouch hat and nondescript trousers sauntered in, remarkable for nothing unless it was for a generous quantity of dust on his clothes, a stubby, reddish beard, a keen gray eye, and a half consumed cigar clenched be tween his teeth. Taking a survey of the apartment and its occupants he approached the colonel and said in a quiet voice: "Will you let me have a sheet of paper?" "Help yourself, my man," responded the colonel in a surprised and somewhat indig nant tone, as his pen scratched on uninter ruptedly; "you'll find one over there on the far side of the table." The stranger seated himself uninvited, and, (rawing the paper toward him, wrote a few words, knocked the ash from his cigar and coolly passed the scrawl over to the colonel. The surprise and indignation on Oglesby's face deepened, but finally gave way to aston ishment when he had mastered the words. They proved to be an order relieving him from his present duty and ordering him to join his regiment pver the river. It was dated, "Headquarters, Cairo," and signed, U. S. Grant, brigadier general, command ing, etc." CoL Oglesby rose and walked around the insignificant figure across the table, never re moving his eyes from it, and finally burst forth with: "Well, are you Grant? Why, I thought you were some one's orderly and was near ordering you out a moment ago." Then, turning: "Gentlemen, our chief, Brig. Gen. Grant."—Chicago Inter Ocean. A Story of Mrs. Secretary Fish. Mrs. Fish, as wife of the secretary of state, was one of the leaders in society here. She was aristocratic by nature and education, but she made it a sacred duty to return every call that was paid her, every card in her basket, that had a name and number on it, was honored in its turn. One day her fine coachman had a great difficulty in discover ing a certain address given to him by Mrs. Fish. They drove up one street and down another, then they wandered to the outskirts of the city and back again; finally, in a nar row side street, in Iront of a dingy little shop which had dwellings over it, the car riage stopped. Mrs. Fish bravely got out. It was the street and number of her card. Washington expects people to do their duty; the lady of the house was at her wash tub in a back room. But they say that Mrs. Fish made a friend of her. As she followed her visitor to the door the woman said: "I wanted to see you, Mrs. Fish, but I hadn't ought to have left that card."—Washington Letter. An Aggravated Case. Here is a good story about Mayor Brack which may be true and may not. But it is good enough to repeat: and may be a warn ing to other unfortunates who try the same dodge. The charge upon which this particular unfortunate was arraigned before hi* honor ono gloomy afternoon was "drunk aud dis orderly." One dollar and costs," said the mayor, after hearing both statements of the case. "But say, your honor," whispered the un fortunate, becoming confidential and raising himself upon tip toes to drop the words softly in the mayor's ears, "say, I voted for you last spring." "You didT' "Indeed, I did sir," replied the man, hope fully. "That makes the esse worse. Mr. Secre tary, mako that flue £2 und costs."—Colum bus Dispatch, - 'Jt ZJz*. ■ Vj -—- - as to to ing Vj te -.- f . - -—- - - Where Cameron Began. Ex-Senator Henry G. Davis, of West Vir ginia, makes frequent trips to the capitaL I saw him the other day on the floor of ttè senate chamber. He was evidently in the best of spirits and was the center of an in terested group of listeners. After he had gone I was told of a dinner party given in New York in 1882. Davis sat at one end of the table, Simon Cameron sat gt the otherj and between them was Gten. Sherman 1 . The latter began a reminiscence of his early life by saying: " When I was a lieutenant"— "Come, now, Sherman," interrupted Davis, "were you ever a lieutenant?" "Yes, Davis," he replied, "I was a lieuten ant about the time you were a brakeman on a freight train." "Well, boys," observed Cameron, "I don't suppose either of you ever cut cordwood for a living, as I did."—New York Tribune. Prayer* First. I noticed Speaker pro tem S. S. Cox rap the house to order the other day with more than ordinary vigor. And yet his face More an abstracted look. Sure enough, as soon as he had laid down his gavel, he said: "The clerk will proceed to read the journal of' Then suddenly checking himself: "Oh, I forgot; prayers are first in order." —New York Tribune. Changes in St. Bonis. St. Louis Man—Yes, sir; we are making great changes in the St. Igouis school system. Nearly 100 teachers of the German language have been dismissed, and Omaha Man—I see, I see. Going to substi tute English. Good idea. It will be a great thing for St. Louis when strangers are able to transact business there without an inter preter—Omaha World. Has Never Failed. Prince Ferdinand (gloomily)—By my hali dbm, I'm losing my prestige. "I believe it, my liege. There is but one thing you can do to recover your lost ground." "What's that?" "Strike up an acquaintance with an American prize fighter."—Nebraska State Journal. A Parting Injunction. Traveling Salesman (to employer)—Well, I'm off, Mr. Smith. Good-by 1 Employer—Good-by and a successful trip. And remember, Mr. Bloward, that order is heaven's first law.—New York Sun. STORIES OF MEN. Ed The Boy Knew Him and Senator niunds Knew Him. A young man applied to Senator Edmunds for some money to enable him to get back to his home in Vermont. Being unknown to Mr. Edmunds, the senator addressed him as follows: "How do I know that you live in Vermont? You might come from Texas, for all I know." "I can only assure you that I speak the truth, senator. I have no way of proving it. My home is in the village of-". "Oh, it is, is it?" said the senator, grimly. "TV ell, I've visited in that place a number of times. I suppose you know everybody there, don't you?" The boy replied that the people he didn't know were not worth knowing. "V ell, then," said the senator, "tell me the name of the fat old man who peddles milk about town?" "He isn t fat and he isn't old," answered the youngster, doggedly. "His name is 'Skinny' Eccles." The faintest sort of a smile lit up the Ver mont senator's stern features. Turning to his clerk, he said; "Give him the money. There's no doubting the boy's honesty," and then he added with a chuckle, as he turned to re-enter the chamber. "'Skinny' Eccles; well, well. I haven't thought of him before in a dozen years."—Philadelphia Times. Mr. Lamar's Absentniimledness. I remember a joke told about Lamar when he was in the senate. He has the reputation of being given to writing and thinking up poetry, and his appearance very often as he walks along the avenue is very pensive and absent minded. At one time when he was living at Willard's he met a friend as he was coming from the senate down by the National hotel. "Come up and have dinner with me," said Lamar to the gentleman after they had shaken hands. The friend accepted the invitation and started to walk up the street with Mr. Lamar. He began the conversation and soon was in terested in telling about some occurrence at home, but Lamar had fallen into one of his reflective moods, and was not listening to anything the fi lend said. The space between the National hotel and Willard's was passed over, and, finally arriving on the jiavement in front of the latter hotel, Lamar suddenly pulled himself together, and, looking around, he recollected that he had a friend with him. He had not heard a word the gentleman hud said, but, turniug to him, stretched out his hand and said: " Well, this is my hotel. I am very much obliged to you for walking up the street with me. Good-by," and turned to go in. But the man was not so easily shaken. He laughed and said: "Beg pardon, senator; you invited me to dinner, and I am not going to lose it." "So I did, so I did," cried Lamar quickly, and taking his friend by the arm he went in. Washington Cor. Courier-Journal. Crawling Out of a Small Hole. "I am usually very good at remembering names," said Senator Davis, of Minnesota, "but I did get stuck once and under the most emba-rassing circumstances. I was sitting in my office at St. Paul, when in came a man whom I was delighted to see and who was delighted to see me. We had been raised as boys together, had enlisted in the same com pany and served through the war together, he being the lieutenant of the company of which I was captain. I knew him as well as my own brother, and as we had not met for many years I was glad to give him a genuine hearty welcome, but for the life of me I couldn't think of his name. He re mained with me all the morning and I in vited him to go to my house to stop. He consented to do so, and as it approached din ner time I commenced to grow very nervous for, of course, I would have to introduce him to my family, and I couldn't ask my old chum and comrade what his name was. Hnally I thought of a funny expedient. Getting a pen and a sheet of paper I told him I thought it would be a good idea for us to join in a letter to another of our comrades with w'hom we were both very intimate dur ing the war. He approved the suggestion and I wrote a couple of pages, telling our friend how pleasant it was to meet again and wishing that he was with us. Then I signed my name and passed the paper over to him. Much to my relief, he signed his full name and I was saved from the impending mortifi cation."—Philadelphia Times. One of "Nat" Goodwin's Pranks. "That reminds me of the night I was out with Nat Goodwin," said the tall, board 0 ? trade man. ''Thera's a fellow to make fun for you. We were going down to Kinsley's, and over on Dearborn street, where every thing was quiet, we saw a young couple just ahead of us—going home, probably, from their after theatre supper. " 'If that fellow had any grit in him,' said Nat, 'I'll make him solid with that girl.' "With this he took me by the arm, and we hurried along and overtook the couple. In passing them Nat gave the young chap a push, and looking squarely at him, said: " 'What are you going to do about it!' "The young man spurred right up to Nat, and was going to thrash him, when Nat pulled me by the arm and we both turned and ran. " 'There,' said Nat, 'won't that make him solid with his girl? She thinks he frightened away a couple of big bullies who were just going to eat them both up.' ''—Chicago Times. Born So. At the club the other night, when this in cident was alluded to, John Oberly, the civil service commissioner, told the 3 tory of a man—Gen. Watkins I believe was the name—who used to live down in southern Illinois. When he was in court as a witness one of the lawyers asked him his name. "Gen. Watkins," was the reply. "Were you in the late war?" "No, sir." "Were you in the Mexican war?" "No, sir." "Were you ever commander of militia?" "No, sir." "Did you ever hold a military appoint ment?" "No, sir." "Then," asked the lawyer with a sneer, "how did you get to be a general r" "I was born so," was the reply.—New York Tribune. The New English Fli-et. The new English fleet is to consist of twenty five vessels built at a cost of over #66,000,000. Four of these ships have been completed, two of them being barbettes, one a turret ship and one a protected cruiser. Four additional vessels are to be finished this year and twelve next year and the remaining five within fire years.—New York Tribune. I THE SMALL BOY. A Youngster Who Mixed Up Cards with His Prayers. A 4-year-old boy in this city was amusing himself one recent evening by imitating his father and mother, who wore playing eucher. The cb'ld held a pack of cards and would lay a card on the floor every time his mother laid one on the table, and would say, "I pass," etc. when she did. Beil time came, and with it the usual child's prayer with the common aiding, but this time the youngster wound vp thus: "God bless papa, mamma and baby —I pass—clubs trumps. Amen !"— New York World. A Far Sighted Boy. A 4-year-old boy was taken to the window a few mornings since and sho'en the bright planet of the morning sky, which was shin ing with remarkable brightness through an exceptionally clear atmosphere. Hj was told that it was Venus, and admire 1 it greatly. At the breakfast table he related the experience with great animation. "I saw a big star," he said; "its name was Peanuts, and it was pointed at both ends." As the form of the planet is that of a sham pointed crescent, it is evident that that boy's eyes are much better to be trusted than his ears.—Boston Transcript The Soul of Candor. A Sunday school teacher began his ques tioning at the end of the old year with the query: "Are you better than you were last year?" A goo«j many of the little fellows had replied "Yes, sir;" but a croupy boy on the back seat had the courage of his convic tions. "I hain't no better nor I ever wuz," he said, "but," he added, by way of softening the harsh statement, "I got 'e sorest froat of anybody in this class—I—I—I—moft got dipferia."—Youth's Companion. A Reflection Upon the Teacher. A little boy and his sister came home from the closing exercises of one of the public Bchools the other day. The certificates for regular attendance and good conduct had been distributed, and the girl was the proud recipient of one of them, but her brother had failed to qualify. "Didn't you get a certifi cate, Tommy?" their mother asked. "Norn," was the reply, "but I would have got one if there had been enough to go round."—To ronto Globe. The "Cake" We All Sigh For. "Mamma," said little Willie, after return ing from a dinner to which ho had been in vited, "I alius kinder thought that cake was just cake; but I see there's a difference in it. Aunt Susan's cake i9 cake an' pic an' puddin' an' peaches an' ice cream an' everything good together, but yours is nothin' but cake."— Elmira Tidings. Harry's Definition. I have a little boy, Harry, aged 4. Elec tion day he asked me what papa was going to vote for. I told birr for the mayor. His sister asked me what the mayor was. "Well," he said, "girls don't know noffin; it is a girl hoss, of course."—Boston Globe. 1 A Tulk with a Bostonian. -il The curious effect it has.—Life. A Bear Little Fellow. Mrs. Hendricks (to husband)—Bobby asked me last night if God sent the rain, and on my telling him yes, said he supposed he must poyr it down through the stara Dçar little fellow.*" ' £ j i}' * Mr. Hcndncks—^5$: Lobby is a nice lit ÏTsftfVno the mischief filled my shoe full of banana skins? Mrs. Hendricks— öb, I suppose it was Bobby.—New York Sun. Another Fraud Exposed. Waiter Girl—You better get your board in advance from that man what says he's a United States detective. Landlady—He looks honest. "He's no detective; he'd never suspect any body of anything. He ate his mince pie without once looking under the crust."— Omaha World. A Great Compliment. Frank Hurd, ex-congressman from Ohio, was in Chicago the other day. You know lie is the silvery tongued on.tor of that state. Oi e day while he was here he went into a barber shop on Clark street, and took a seat for a shave. Having gone through the oper ation with no word from the barber, Hurd turned to him and said: "Are you dumb?" The barber said he was not. Mr. Hurd then said that he had never before been shaved by a barber who had l>een silent. The barber replied : "I know you—you are Frank Hurd, the congressman. I lay down my hand as a talker to you. You can talk longer and bet ter, when you get started, than any man I ever saw in my life. I used to live in Ohio." Mr. Hurd shook the man by the hand and said he regarded w hat he had said as a great compliment.—Chicago MoiL is Sleeping with Windows Open. Here is vhat Professor T irchow savs anent the sleeping with open windows: "The vi tiated air c an only rush out when the temper ature inside differs from that outside; it re mains stationary when the air inside is al ready of equal temperature with that outside. In that case serious complications may be the consequence, and many persons have paid their mistaken notion with their life. Moreover, a certain ventilation takes place even with closed windows, namely, through the walls, thick though they be, provided they be otherwise well dried."—Paris Ameri can Register. Of the 181 churches in the city of Edin ourgh, 134 are Presbyterian. of the he gins A TRYING ORDEAL HOW A COLLEGE WITH THE STUDENT SUPPED PRESIDENT. The Boys Rob tlie Henroost of One ol the Faculty—A Nice Y'oung Man Caught In a Trap—Before tlie Faculty—Tlie Re finement of Torture. In the early years of this century, when log houses were good enough for the average Georgian, a ertaiu doctor presided over Franklin college. The simple habits of their dignified sires did not prevent the boys of those days from having their fun—indeed, they carried on an amount of devilment which the college boys of these times would consider respectable. The boys thought that anyt hing was fair which would make one of the faculty the vic tim of a joke, and on oue occasion they laid a dark plot to rob the doctor's poultry yard and afterward celebrate the event by a mid night banquet. The doctor's chickens were the pride of his domestic establishment, and he had built for their accommodation a log house. The log 9 were "notched down" at the corners and held in place by their own weight and the roof. At a late hour the boys repaired to the hen house, armed with a fence rail. It was an easy matter to insert the rail between two logs and prize up those aliove, so as to make an opening through which a nmu could crawl. A dapper young fellow, who had visited the doctor's daughters, went in and began to pull the chickens off the roost and wring their necks. While he did so the boys outside kept their weight on the rail, and so kept the crack oper for his escape. The nice young man, whom we will call Bob, had dropped about a dozen chickens outside, and the whole crowd was in high glee over the pros pective banquet. DANGER AT HAND. Just then a big, old rooster crowed. "Look out, Bob; break that rooster's neck and stop his noise." "Sh! What's that?" There was a low growl. "Boys, you have let these logs down too low; lift them a little so I can get out. Be quick about it." At that instant there was a loud bark and a big dog bounded into the poultry yard. The boys on the outside for an instant stood their ground. They dropped the rail and they grabbed chance weapons to beat off the dog, but before they could disable him the door of the doctor's residence opened and his tall figure appeared. The boys scattered, all but oue. The logs had come together again and Bob was a prisoner. He crouched in a cor ner and held bis breath, hoping that he would be overlooked, but the dog told where he was. By this time the doctor hrd come up and other members of the family came out, eager to see who was caught in the man trap. "Why, it's Bob." "Who would have thought it ?" The ex clamations were heard in the house arid echoed by the young ladies. Then the door of the log house was opened and the young man was sent to the dormitory. Ho was called before the faculty the next morning. The poor fellow would have sold himself for a song, and expected to be peremptorily ex pelled and perhaps prosecuted. THE DOCTOR'S CONCLUSIONS. Meantime the doctor had thought the mat ter over. He was a man of great sagacity in the management of boys, and he recognized this freak as a piece of wild mischief which might not be meanness. He resolved to give the matter such disposition as would put a sober head on the young man. Accordingly, when Bob appeared, looking like a criminal, the doctor lectured him severely, but in a fatherly way, and told him that such an offense must not go w ithout a severe punish ment. * ment. Bob expected the sentence of his expulsion. TV ith measured tones, like a judge pronounc ing the death sentence, the doctor said: "Mr.-, I will expect you to take supper with me to-night, and, as you show a fond ness for chicken, the fowls you took off the roost last night will be on the table." Bob would rather have been expelled. But for the distress it would cause his parents he would have gone home. In spite of his larks there was good stuff in Bob, and with a tre mendous effort he resolved to face the music. It is impossible to describe the mental ag ony Bob went through that evening when he 6at 8t the £nble where the doctor presided with courtly dignity. In elegant wife could not have been more courteous to an Ignored guest than she was to Bob, and her «laughters treated the young man as cordially as ever. Not a word was said about the affair of the night before, but the la *: dish of chickens was like a mount ain in the poor boy's eyes. It was the refine ment of torture when the doctor, with the utmost suavity, helped him to the choicest pieces. The situation, which, under ordinary cir cumstances, would have been ludicrous, under the doctor's composure and his wife's tact was carried almost to the pathetic. It was a lesson written on Bob's memory in burning letters, and he never forgot it.—At lanta Journal. A 810,000,000 Sapphire. One ol the greatest sapphires of the world is the property of the Polytechnic society, of Berlin, Prussia. It weighs a little more than six ounces. The jury of the Polytechnic so ciety on the grounds, stated in full at their discussion, would have settled its value at the frightful sum of 64,000,000 marks, or $16,000, 000. It need hardly be said that such a treas ure is not likely to find a purchaser at such a price.—Chicago News. Photos by Fireflies' Light, Dr. John Vansant, of the United States marine hospital at St. Louis, claims to be the first to have taken photographs by the light of fireflies. He placed twelve fireflies in a three oun«?e bottle, covering its mouth with fine white bobinet The average duration of the flash of each insect was half a second, and the luminous area on the abdomen was about one-eighth of an inch square. The time of exposure was fifty flashes-—Science. Under the Weather. Mother (to Bobby, who is slightly under the weather)—Papa will be sorry to hear that his little boy is sick, Bobby. fkiU>y—Do you think he'll give me any thin««, 31a—a penny, perhaps? Mother— I shouldn't be surprised. Bobby—Then I hope I won't get well until he comes home.— P. H. Welch in The Epoch. It ain't de man dat Is hard ter whup dat gins you de mos' trouble. It ü de feller dat won't stay whupped.