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OLDEST WAGON IN AMERICA.
Picturesque among the relics of ancient Indian days, dating back to the introduction of cattle in New Mexico, more thau 200 years ago, is the old carreta or ox cart, showu in the illustration, which is probably the oldest vehicle ,of native American origin in the world. This carreta was found in the possession of a native Indian in the ancient pueblo village. Bio Tesuque, situated about five miles from Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico. The Indian, who was 8-» years old, said it had been the property of his great-grandfather, and the tradi tions of Uio Tesuque, when taken in correlation with known historical events, clearly establish the date of its making in the latter half of the seventeenth century. The ancient vehicle shows the primitive conditions of past modes of travel. The great wheels are made of the cross sections of the sycamore tree. The hubs are of ont* piece with the body of the wheels; they are secured by wooden pins driven through the axle. No iron or metal figures in the make-up, wood and rawhide alone being used in the construction. The body of the carreta is an open rack of cottonwood eight feet long. Upright slats four feet high form lilts rack. The frame rests upon the axle and the tongue. The tongue, twelve feet long, is a twisted and gnarled trunk of a mesquite tree. The oxen which drew this ancient cart pushed with their heads a sort of yoke in the shape of a bow of wood bound upon the horns with rawhide, which may be seen to-day in some parts of France and Germany. I j ; j j CHICAGO WONDERS AT IT. Remarkuble FeatofKnssineerimr Skill Now About Completed. Throe distinct and unusual features tend to make the great subway system now being constructed in Chicago one of the most extraordinary triumphs of engineering skill ever accomplished. It is unique in design, mammoth in size and the methods of construction and ultimate use are decidedly novel. Chicago Is a most peculiar city. While it covers an area of 184 square miles, a large portion of which is sparsely popu lated. the business interests are cen tered in a district about three-quarters of a mile square. Within these narrow limits are the great wholesale houses, banks, department stores, office build ings, theaters, railway depots and steamboat docks. The result is a bewildering confusion of pedestrians on the sidewalks, while the roadways are choked with street cars, delivery wagons and heavy drays. All this within a radius of six blocks SECTION OF MAIN TUNNEL, JACKSON AND DEABBOUN STREETS. from the corner of State and Madison streets, the hub of ttie business section. Outside of. this district there is com parative ease of movement for both pedestrian and wagon traffic. , To offer partial remedy for the ills affecting the city a proposition was made to the Council for an under ground telephone service that would rid Chicago ot' the Bell monopoly. It was received kindly and a permit given to construct the necessary conduits. Then opposition began to show itself. A clause was inserted in the franchise forbidding the new concern to tear up a bit of pavement, or to disturb the surface of the roadways in any man ner under pain of forfeiture of its en tire plant. This was about two years ago, and since there lias been no sign of any work being done. Not a foot of street pavement had been torn up, and when the word was given out not long ago that seven miles of large-sized tunnels had been built under the business sec tion of Chicago and were ready for use, everybody excepting the men directly interested in the work was astounded. As opposition was feared, the work has beeu done quietly. Basements were rented at convenient intervals along the Hue and the work of excavation be gun. Men were put to digging, and the earth taken- out was hauled up and carted away at night through the coai boles in the sidewalks, so that it did not attract attention. In the daytime there waa not a sign to indicate to the thousands of pedestrians that any un usual work was In progress, but every hur of the ^wenty-four, day and night, hundreds of -men were digging away like moles forty feet below the surface of the street. It was necessary to go this deep In or der to avoid the sewer and gas pipes, the conduit of the telephone and the telegraph companies, the electric light i and the great water main*. Now the work is about completed. The main tunnels are 14x12 feet and the branches lix8. Although constructed ostensibly for the accommodation of telephone Wires, this will in reality be a small part of a new enterprise. Its subways are of such size that small cars can be run through them, and on these it is pro posed to transport the mails from the general postotflee to the various rail way depots and sub-stations; to deliver newspapers to the raiway depots and to the dealers instead of sending them by wagons, as is now done, and to carrj package freight from the down-town stores to the outlying districts. No at tempt will be made to do a passenger business. Intelligible Announcement. An American woman who under stands Italian, but has not learned to comprehend Italianized English, had at a hotel in Florence an experience which she relates with glee. She had asked that a carriage might be ready for her at a certain hour. She waited in the parlor for it to be an nounced. and when the time had passed she made complaint that her request had not been regarded. "But, madam. I send up a hoy where you and the other madam were sitting, ten minutes ago, and command him to announce your equipage," said the clerk. "A boy said something in the door way," said the lady, doubtfully, "but as he spoke in a language unknown to me, und did not seem to be addressing me, I paid no attention to him." The boy, being summoned, gazed with brown, reproachful eyes at the lady. "But I speak America," he said plain tively. "I bow my head, and say, fast, very fast, 'M'darm, m'darm, c'ridge, c'ridge, redee, redee,' and make my de part." At a French Hotel. An American lady was traveling In Europe. She stopped at a French inn in Normandy, and being the best French scholar in the party she was deputed by the others to arrange for lodgings, etc. In vain she aired her best linguistic attainments. Not a w.ord could the clerk understand, and for aught she knew his replies were In "heathen Chinee." In desperation she sail with great directness: "Do—you—speak—English ?" He brightened at once, and replied: "Land sakes! I guess I do. I was brought up ten miles from Bangor, Maine!" Malapropos. Cadleigh—I thought 1 bad met you before, Miss Browne. Miss Browne—No; I guess It was my sister. Cadleigh—Perhaps so. The Miss Browne I met was rather pretty."— Philadelphia Press. , . CAMP LIFE. The Forester Learns Many Thing! While in the Wood*. The forester hàs opportunities to see and to know the wild Ute of the forest better than most men, says Paul Gris wold Huston in the Atlantic. He hears the whistle of the quail and the drum ming'of the partridge, and frequently he finds their nests and sees .their broods of young; he learns the ways of the wild ducks, stumbles Upon the curious uosts of the ovenblrd« and be comes acquainted with many-rare, shy birds; he has the best of chauces to ob serve the squirrels and deer, the two most graceful animals In the woods, in their native homes amid the trees, and he comes across saplings against which deer have scraped their horns when in the velvet, follows their trails to his work, surveys through ; their feeding grounds- where they, have browsed the tips of cedar, hemlock, ash and basswood, picks up their cast off antlers lying among the teftYW, and finds their beds of matted grass and ferns where they have lain. And, then, too, few things are quite so palatable as game-'cooked to a crisp over a wood tire in the open air, and nothing tastes so good as pure, fresh, cold water drunk straight from n brook, without the intervening aid of cup or glass. These also are the forester's advan tages. He may fry some brook trout or pickerel for breakfast, roast a piece of venison for lunch, and broil a rabbit or squirrel for supper. The writer has had bass, venison and partridge In one ; day, and all taken within a mile of j camp. This, it is true, is not the ordi- | nary camp fare; hut a taste of game is not at all uncommon, and guns and j rifles are almost a necessary pnrt of 1 an outfit. . I I PAINTING WITH SAND. ■P'S! represent rock formations, glaciers and landscapes. One of the jars has a bor der of three different colors, and in the W. S. O'Brien, of McGregor, Iowa, has Invented a new form of decoration, which he calls sand mixing or painting. In the vicinity are different colored sands, which lie lias collected and ar ranged in jars, forming neutral pic tures. Some of the jars contain as many as four different tints, which are placed in layers, in curves and other forms, to center is a realistic view of a prairie, with a background of mountains, the tops of which are covered with snow. The sand is placed In the Jars in a lose, dry state, anil the work of packing some of packed in quart and pint jars, and one of the photographs reproduced shows a series of horderings which comprises. twenty-five different designs ana a score of different colors. | ! : ; | 'e of the Jars occupied many hours ; Mr. O'Brien's leisure. They are His Rebuke. Years ago at a great university in Massachusetts there was a distinguish ed professor whose loo..., uid not corre spond to the sweetness and power of his mind. Ills face was one of the sort that suggests nicknames, and his way of walking and talkng were easily turned to caricature. One of his students was a clever mimic. He took off the drolleries of all do members of the faculty to the delight of his fellow students, anil this profts sor came in for his share of ridicule. It happened that once when the mimic was amusing some of his classmates with imitations of Prof.-, one of the audience was a tactless telltale, who boarded at the professor's house. Of course he told the good old gentleman that he had beeu the object of irrever ent ridicule. The next day the professor called his mimic to his desk after class, and said, quietly: "Mr. Harrison. I understand that you have beeu having some fun at my ex pense. 1 realize that I lend myself to caricature, and l do not mind your amusing yourself and others by taking off my peculiarities. All I suggest Is that in the future you be careful to choose for your audience men of tact and good sense." Lobsters Which Have Names. "Yes, sir," said a Philadelphia fish dealer to a pressman, "nearly every lobstter has a name on him—his own name, I suppose." Then he proceeded to show the newspaper man what he meant He took a live lobster from heap on the marble slab. "This one's name is Joe," he said, after he had in spected one of the lobster's legs. "Now you can find it for yourself." The customer took the lobster ginger ly by the body, where It could not reach his hand with its nippers. Turning it on its back, so that the brown legs flopped backward, a smooth streak half an inch long and nearly as wide was disclosed. In this streak, like a mo saic, were short lines, as If some one had printed with indelible brown ink the characters "JOE." "Some lobsters are named Jim," the dealer Bald, "and some Jack, others John, and I once clearly made out the name Julia." A married man's Idea of home com forts Is à shirt that Is not made at home. Many a man who Is capable of giv ing good advice isn't capable of earn ing his salt THE CHILD ETERNAL. I heard their prayers and klaa*4 their sleepy eyes. And tucked them in all warns from feet to head. To wake again with morning's glad sun rise— Then came where he lay dead. On cold, still mouth I laid my lips. Asleep Ho lay, to wake the other side God's door. But this one mine no more. Those other children long to men have grown— Strangle, hurried men, who give me passing thought. Then go their ways. No longer now my own, Without me they have wrought. So whea night comes, and seeking moth er's knee. Tired childish feet turn home at even tide, I fold him close—the child that's left to me, My little lad who died. —Harper's Magasine. I A Glcvcr Sell. * H * 'l** M"H *'i "H '* i ** H , d*d»4**t** h * t " i * * > ■ ! ■♦♦» r»j»E is ai Jr, one oi ^>*cireles E is an East Ender and moves in of those mutual admiration eles out there, pleasantly flat tering himself in the usual way on the llattery of his confreres, and really de serving most of it, too. In fact, he is really a clever fellow in many waya and often surprises his. friends with the diversity of his talents. They all bèlieve in him except his wife. She's like the valet in the famil iär aphorism—to her the man of her choice is never a hero. So she laughs 4 t his nonsense, and punctures his wit, tnd makes him feel as much as possi He, to quote his own expression, ''like M> cents'." (Veil, this East Ender has a great , 1 klug for amateur entertainments, and is quite a clever actor and mimic. Some time ago he, in company with a friend, began the preparation of a vaudeville character act. Of course he told his wife, and she, as usual, laughed at his histrionic pretensions. "Everybody will see through your disguise," she said, "and you'll just be a general laughing stock." "i'll chance it," said George, and be went on with his rehearsals. One day last week Ills wife was busy with her housecleaning, and had emp tied half the contents of the attic into the basement. George didn't like house cleaning—strange to say—and so he made as early a start for the office as possible. His wife called a good-by to him from the furnace cellar, and a mo ment later she heard the front door slam. It might have been fifteen minutes after this that a form darkened the out side doorway of the basement. The mistress of the house looked up and saw it was an old clothes man. He was a threadbare and shiny old clothes a as he of ; wagged his full gray beard In a decidedly obsequious way as he ad vanced with his rough bag. "Any oldt garments'to-day, ma'am? I pay der highest market brlce, so belb me," said the stranger. "Why, yes," said the lady. "1 have tome old garments right here. What do you pay?" "It depends on vat it ees," said the stranger. "Ve got to go py der rules of der trust." "Have the old clothes men a trust?" cried the astonished lady. "To be gwlte sure they haf," said the stranger, "and we've got to standt to gedder. Vat you got?" The lady brought forth several gar ments, and the stranger shook them, and stretched them, and smelled of them, and finally offered a ridiculously low price. The lady presently yielded and the garments were placed in the bag. Ain'd you got somedlngs a leeter petter, may be?" said the stranger as he rubbed his grimy hands together. I pay you veil ven you prlng me soffie dlngs nice." 1 "Let me see," mused the lady of the house. "There's George's summer suit in the front room closet I don't think he'll want it any more, and this will be a capital cbance to get rid of it. Wait a moment," she said to the stran ger. "I'll see what I can find." And she darted away. When she came back she had the gray suit over her arm. The stranger seized the garments and ran his nose along'them with his face screwed up In a quizzical way. "Veil," he said, "dot's all right. 1 vill puy them." And he forthwith be gan to thrust the suit into hia bag. "Walt, wait," cried the mlstresi. "Yon haven't settled on the price." The stranger paused. "I gif you one tollar seventy-five," be said as be spread out his bands. '"O, that isn't near enough. The clothes are as good aa new," cried the mistress The stranger rolled his eyes toward heaven. "Crashus me," he cried. "As goot as new! Vy, dose clodlngs vas chust alive by mots." "By what?" "By mots, mots, mots! Don't yon know mots?" "Moths! Why, there Isn't a single moth In the whole bouse," cried the In dignant mistress. "Maybe not," Mid the stranger. "All dese mots vas married and haf pig famines." It was a moth-eaten joke, bat It went. .'(Yon don't ofBer enough," said the mistress decidedly. '^*" - - "1 dell you vat 1 do," said the stran ger In a burst ef benevolence; "I gif vun dollar eighty and dance der Csar das ter you." "What's the esardas 7" Inquired tbs mistress. ' , "Votl Ton't you know der cxsrdasT" cried thé stranger in great astonish ment 'Watch ma." > And he danced the czardas an the basement floor. I; was a wild dance, and he threw in ta it an amaslng exhil aration. He stamped, be leaped, he whirled about his ancient garments fluttering and his long hair flying. And the mistress sat oh the basement stairs and laughed until she cried. Presently, with a final flourish of his nimble legs, the stranger paused, count ed out with great deliberation the re quisite number ef silver pieces, and, with a blessing aa the head of the mis treat delivered with outspread hands and rolled-up eyes and in some strange tongue, departed with his bag through the outside basement door. When Geurge came home that night he went upstairs and his wife heard him rummaging around In the closet. "Anna," he called from the upper hallway, "have you seen that light gray summer suit of mine?" "Wh—what suit?" stammered Anna. "Why, that light gray suit I wore for a few weeks last summer," aaidl George, "it was in the front closet last night, but I can't tynd it anywhere now." "What did you want of ltY* queried Anna In a weak voice. "Why, 1 wanted to have It pressed and sponged up. It's almost as good as new. Besides that, I was looking for a safe hiding place for a few hun dred dollars |n bills that I brought home last night and fancied the inside pocket of the gray vest was as safe a place as I could find. Eh, what's tne matter?" He had heard a hollow moan from the lower regions, and downstairs he came Hying. There was poor Anna, limp and white, lying back in aa easy chair. "Here, Anna," he cried, ''what's the matter with you?" He was genuinely scared. He stood back a little. He stretched out his hands with the palms upward. He tipped bis head to one sida with a comical leer. "Vat's all dot foolishness apout?" he cried. "Hose clothes vas no good no more alretty. 1 toit you dey vas full of mots!" "What!" screamed Anna, springing up. "Was that you? Well, of all the mean, contemptible tricks 1 ever heard of that's the worst!" "Yes," he jubilantly cried without heeding her criticism, "I sneaked ont of the front door without your hearing or seeing me, and 1 sneaked back again. And now," he added with an exuber ant shout, "now will you say I can't act ?" But she was so angry over her dis comfiture that she lias scarcely forgiv en him even yet.—Cleveland Plain Dealer. bCIENTIFlC NAM. S. They Mesa the Same the World Over— Noi Ho, Common Name«. "Scientific names are universal names," remarked a college professor recently, iu explaining the preference of educated people for them. It often seems pedantic to use long and unfa miliar names for common birds and flowers, but such is not peeessarily the case. Endless confusion results from the varying meanings which our popu lar terms have come to convey in dif ferent parts of the country. The bobolink of the New England spring becomes the reed bird of New Jersey, when in July aud August it feeds among the reeds. In the Caro linas, a little later, it is known as the rice bird, and is there a great pest Crossing over into the West Indies, it becomes In Jamaica the butter-bird. Its scientific name, the same in all coun tries, is Dolichonyx oryzirorus, which means a "long-clawed, rlee-eating bird." While formidable to utter, there is no mistaking its meaning. Such Is the confusion of bird name» that the government ornithologist says it is often impossible to tell from a let ter what kind of bird is referred to un ices the writer also gives the place and time of Its capture. Somebody has made a list of the various names of the "flicker," as it is most commonly called, and finds that they number one hundred and twenty-four. Fortunate ly the scientific name of some birds is as simple as the popular name, and often the two are identical. The vireo is an example. Among flowers the story is the same. The chrysanthemum, as named by Lin naeus, Is the same in all countries and languages. So la the fuchsia, with slight variations in spelling, the ver bena and the phlox. On the other bond the bachelor's-button of this country Is the national flower of Germany, but there Is known as the Kornblume. In England It Is tbe bluebottle, while In France It has three names, the most common of which is "le bluet des jar dins." In every country, botanists know it as Centaures cyan us. Tbe use of one name for several dif ferent plants Is very confusing. Dog wood, for example, In some parts of tbe country is a plant of the poison ivy family; in other places It Is a small, white-flowered tree, while In tbe Southwest it applies to something al together different. Such oases are com mon. So It Is with legal and medical terms everywhere. Scientific names are pre ferred by scholars because of tbe ac curate notion wlÿlch they convey the world over, and while no one wants the beautiful and expressive names of every-day life to give place wholly to the "jaw-breakers" of science, It Is well to remember that the latter have distinct and Important uses. ; A Definition. Fini Boarder—What la the enact meaning of "viands?" Second Boarder—Oh! Things y on get to eat when yon don't board.—Pock. THE SODA FOUNTAIN CLERK. He Hu His Troubles, Like the Seel ef the World— er Worse. ■ Consider now the meek and humble soda fountain clerk. Who draweth oft the moistened air with nimble turn and Jerk. His' garb Is always spotless white when first be puts It on. But lo. before an hour hath passed Its spotlessness bath gone. For then he bath vanilla on the bos om of his vest, and streaks of red rasp berry make hie trousers seem a jest. While chocolate and ginger give a tiger-like effect to the balance of the garments In .which he Is proudly decked. Mis hair Is limp and languid, and Is parted square and true Above the very center of hia nose, which turneth blue, Because be hath to Unger In the acid and the ice, to fix up funny mixtures for tbe one that hath tbe price. He maketh 6trange concoctions In the line of fancy drinks, and all the while he watcheth for persuasive aorta of winks. From early morn he twisteth at the soda water N spout, and turneth the lea. crusher till the Ice bath given out. He dlggeth in tbe ice cream and be ruslieth with the glass, while hls deadly hated rival buys the soda for the lass. Yea, verily, the soda clerk, he hath a terry time, for he must know the way to get nine cents out of each dime. And he must be a hustler, that there will not be a loss of tee or gas or water, or he'll tremble at the boss. How often, oh, how often, hath the soda jerker grinned at the one who pay eth nickels for a penny's worth of wind; How often, oh, how often, doth a calm and penceful smile go flitting o'er hia Gunge when a drink goes out of style. But. ah, alas, my son, sometimes he fceleth very bad, and then is when the ladios come with garments rich and glad. The ladies fill the rockers and the doorways and tbe stools, and Insist upon a liquid that both elevates and cools. And one declareth that she'd like some chocolate with cream, and, wben he draweth it, straightway "Oh, no!" the maid doth scream. And then she voweth that she hath already changed lier mind, and wanteth just a phosphate with a piece of lemoc rind. And yet, again the other maids dé clare they do not know Just what they wish—and on and on their mild objet, tions flow. The weary soda fountain clerk sup gesteth this and that, from plain old lemon phosphate to a dose of anti-fat. And finally the ladies fair with om consent conclude that chocolate and cream shall be their soda fountain food. Now, when he draweth all the drink* hls troulile« are not done— Nay, verily, my trusting child, they are but half begun: For each and every maiden there doth straightway rise and say: "Now, girls. I'll think it's awful Ik you do not let me pay!" All all protest, aud all object, and aB .'heir plans defend. Ana not a one takes out her purse her .ovely cash to spend. Now, finally, the soda clerk suggest* eth that each maid shall pay for what she drank—and then beglnneth tbs tirade. For all the ladles vow in wrath—yes, yea, they almost sob—that they will bis employer see, and take from him bis Job. And then they take their parasols and sternly go away, and not a cent of all that bill do they take steps to pay. The gentle soda fountain clerk, ha falleth in a daze, and leaneth on tha vichy tube, and wicked things he say* Is this not true, Just as we have com posed it, with much work? It surely Is—and if you doubt go ask üe soda clerk.—Baltimore American. Study of Delirium Tremens. The familiar symptoms of delirium tremens, know n as "snakes," have been made the subject of study with some interesting results. It appears, says the New York Ledger, that what have been supposed to be hallucinations hare a certain sort of evidence In fact Certain blood vessels in tbe eyes be come congested and assume a dark color. These, when they appear on the retina, which is ordinarily transparent, suggest to the nervous and over* wrought patient the presence of som« moving, living creature. Imagination, of course, increases the nervousness, and finally the mind becomes so disor dered that the form of an offensive creature is suggested. Aa these fan cies grow by what they feed on, It la easy to see how creeping and crawUng things may fill the soul of the victim with the most horrible sensations. Sawmill Operated by Air. # Tbe only sawmill in the world where the machinery Is operated by compresa ed air is located In Oronte, Me., and tbe water wheel and the air compressot are below tbe £oor i>f the mill, with also large storage tanks. Pipes lead tbe air to the various machines, which technically are known as the carriage, nigger, log loader, log flipper, band log saw and two cut-off saws. A Paper Church. Bergen, Norway, boast» of a paper church large enough to seat 1,000 per sons. The building Is rendered water proof by a eolation of quicklime, cop filed in milk, and white of eggs. Afternoon Nap. The New York Medical Record says a nap of half an hour or ao in the aft ternoon after a meal is helpful, and fa vors rather than hinders good sleep at night There ia no man eq deep bat that ha tee at least one shadow speL