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Most remedies for prejudice seem to be fatal. It costs more to be stingy than it does to be charitable. , A thing of beauty is a joy while it continues to draw. There is no place like the home of a young man's best girl. Successful men have no time to go back and cover up their footprints. It requires something besides a range to thaw out a cold audience—so says a singer. Many a man's pessimistic views of life are due to his acquaintance with himself. Evidently the Russian peasants do not consider it good fun to sit still and Starve to death. It is thought Uncle Paul Kruger has managed to save a portion of his salary out of the wreck. Gen. Wood says: "Money is not ev erything." He is now eligible for mem bership in young John D.'s Bible class. About the only way to induce the av erage man to take advice is to slip up on his blind side and drop it into his ear. About the only chances the kings of those different German States have to get their pictures in the papers come iwhen they die or go crazy. A professor has just completed a 17-volume "Life of Edgar A. Foe." Never until now have we thought of Poe as a possible rival of the Ency clopedia Britannica. Years ago a man bearing the name of John Smith had it changed to Gagadig Gigadab, which name he selected be cause it was as unlike John Smith as he could possibly get it. And now an Englishman, one Pamlico Pickles, has bad his name changed to John Smith. There is no accounting for tastes. At a recent pedestrian contest a veg etarian won in the international match from Berlin to Dresden. The distance is 123 miles. The winner walked it in a little more than twenty-seven hours. His competitor, a meat eater, fell be hind an hour and forty-five minutes. The vegetarian has also beaten the fa mous race of the Greek from Mara thon to Athens, who covered 140 miles in twenty-seven hours. While proof is »till lacking that an exclusive vege tarian diet is the best muscle-maker, data are accumulating which show that meat is not indispensable and that health may be promoted by diminish ing its consumption. The Greeks, who were in their golden age the most graceful as well as the most stalwart athletes, ate little meat. While the price of beef continues high Americans can better afford to experiment with a vegetable diet as a muscle-maker. The celebration of the eentential an niversary of the establishment of the military academy at West Point fur nished occasion for reverting to the Important part the famqps institution for training soldiers has played in our national life. The eentential exercises were incidental to the regular ■ com mencement, at which a class of fifty four were graduated. Public interest naterally ceutured this year in the commemoration of the founding of the academy, thé occasion drawing togeth er many of the commanders, who have gone from its halls to fight the battles of the Union and who have shed luster on the annals of the army. While the United States is making soldiers who are fitted by training to become officers in the army it is also giving its cadets an education in mathematics, engineer ing and the sciences that will compare favorably with the courses in the high est institutions of learning in the world. Some idea of the standards of scholarship that are maintained at West Point may be gained from the fact that about one-fourth of tbose appointed by Senators aad Représenta fives usually fail to pass the prelim Inary examinations, while only a little over one-half the remainder are finally graduated. Upon graduation cadets are commissioned as second lieutenants in the United States army. The whole number of graduates during the hun dred years of its existence is now little over 4,000. The academy has a history that gratifies the national pride. The martial achievements of many of its graduates In the great crises of the republic are an Inspira tion to patriotism and national unity. The affection of women for cats has long been the stock In trade of the humorist. If the woman was "an old maid" and the cat a roistering fellow given to late hours and daytime snoozes, so much the better for the joker. It is time for a defense of pussy, and Incidentally, for a defense of my lady's discrimination in her choice of a pet. The popular estimate of the cat has always been based on comparison with the dog. But cats are not dogs, and whoever regards them as an infe rior species of dog does both animals wrong. The chief characteristic of the cat la her intense originality. That of the dog is his teachableness and Imita tiveness. Whoever will know Mistress Cat must study her—not try to teach her. ghe does not catch human ways. A« the is domesticated, protected, wen fed, she becomes not the more like her mistress, but the more herself. Her personal preference is law. At a given minute she does not wish to be fon dled, and repays a caress with a scratch. She chooses her own time to be affectionate. Her habits and choices are persistent. Let her be punished forty times for sharpening her claws on the carpet, and she will continue to do so. This is not because she does not know what the punishment means, but because she does not care. Like Falstaff, she has "the disease of not listening, the malady of not marking." Such stoical persistence, such uutouch ed originality of impulse, such splen did characteristics of the primeval jun gle, unmarred by centuries of so-called "petting," are surely impressive. To the woman who has patience, and who is not so anxious as a man might be to mold qualities to her own image, the cat will prove a more and more fasci nating companion. A professor of biology has published his predictions concerning the future of mankind. He makes some strange forecasts as to the characteristics of the race in the distant future. "Strange men, far different from those now liv ing, will walk the eatth in centuries to come," he says. "They will be a race of brainy, four-toed giants." The brain, of course, will be the dominant organ, and the body will be much larg er than that of the present man. This future man will not suffer from appen dicitis, as the useless appendix will have disappeared, as will also the little toe of each foot and the floating ribs. The chest and the upper and lower limbs will be large as compared with those of to-day. All the diseases which arise from the development of microbes will have been banished, and the first signs of old age will not show them selves until ^ie one hundredth year. The blonde hair of the future will be exclusively peroxide, as the extreme types of light and dark people will have merged into a uniform medium type. Thus there will be no race prob lem to worry any section hereafter. There will be no tremendous dentists' bills, because man's teeth will not de cay, and no need of disappointing nnd perfidious hair restoratives, because there will be no baldness. There will be no surplus women, because it will be practicable to predetermine sex, and the supply will harmonize with-fhe de mand. The future memory will be dis criminating. All the useless details which it is necessary to learn in order to master a few important things will be discarded and forgotten, while es sential facts will remain as thougn graven on enduring bronze. Evidently the learned professor has not read 'The First Man in the Moon," a serial story which ran recently in one of the magazines. According to this ingenious tale the inhabitants of Mars, through the operation of the law of the survival of the fittest, had little left but brains. Their locomotion was accomplished by means of machinery more adaptable and inconceivably more rapid than legs. However, the time is so far distant when all these transformations are to ake place that the average man jeed not worry respecting the legs or appur tenances of his immediate offspring. TOMMY ATKINS TAUGHT THEM. The two sheep shown in this repro duction have an interesting history and are probably the only "baa-baas" on record that have acquired the goat-like passion for chewing tobacco. The sheep were the pets of the Brit ish camp at Pekin, China, all during the recent war, and were brought SHEEP THAT CHEW TOBACCO thither from India on a transport which moved the British troops. Not being required for food on the voyage, they were landed, and soon be-' came great favorites with Tommy At kins. They wandered about the camp, eating anything and everything they could find, and the soldiers taught them the "filthy habit" of chewing tobacco, and the sheep seemed to thrive on it. An Airy Invention. "Tes, I've got« fine new scheme. It's a life-saving net for aeronauts. Ton spread it on light steel rods and bang it to the bottom of the car of the bal loon. Then wben the aeronaut topples out or the balloon blows up be falls Into tbe net and is saved." "But suppose they both fall?" "Who? The man and the net? They can't fall. Tbe net Is fastened to the car by tested stéel chains." "But supposing tbe balloon falls?" "The balloon can't fall, either—tbe net is In tbe way."—Cleveland Plain Dealer. _ Fatal to the Eyesight. Most persons employed In tbs Vene tian glass Industry begin to lose their sight when they are between 40 and fid years of age and In a short time be come totally blind. This blindness Is, caused by tbe excessive heat and glare from the glass furnaces. A flatterer means half be says. If tbe flatterer is a woman, she means three quarters of 1L WHI N 1 AM D EAtX I d# not ask the mourner's tear Of those who pass around my bier; I do not ask the tragic grief In tears alone that finds relief. But bending o'er my narrow bed, Speak kindly of lie when I'm dead, f Ah, lay not flowers, fresh and sweet, In rich profusion at my feet! But bring some mem'ry with you there That links my name with scenes once dear And beg a blessing o'er my heaÿ As you look on me when I'm dead. If I have failed, ah, then forget The bitterness of vain regret! Let it for me atonement plead— Forget the thoughtless word or deed. And breathe a prayer for me instead As you look on me when I'm dead. Ah, could we of another life Its record find, of dangers rife, Of disappointments, sobs and tears, Temptatiôns, doubts, and loves and fears We'd pause as tragic lines were read In admiration of the dead! 4.h, question seif, and who can tell? Could you have filled my place as well? Life's troublous ebbs and tides have braved, Though dying for the love you craved? So whisper prayers above my head, And judge me kindly when I'm dead. PRIVATE LAWSON. t OM LAWSON could "run a fur row" as straight as any other man in Round Prairie, and he kept the coats of his big sturdy-limbed horses glistening like the iris bn the raven's neck. Since he, a newcomer, did not violate these paramount tradi tions of the community, he was wel come to stay. The neighbors referred to him usual ly as "Dick Caldwell's hired hand." It didn't matter so much about his name or his antecedents. His former life in Indiana might remain a closed book unless he chose to have it otherwise. Folk of Round Prairie knew he was up SOMETHING FOR EVERY MAN SAVE TOM LAWSON. Is as of It A with the sun every spring morning, and they heard his whistled songs as lie tramped across the dew-spangled pas ture for his team before breakfast. All this made him one of them to all outward appearances. But Tom Lawson was not the dream less clod that they believed him. If he did not reveal his inner and truer self to these practical, matter-of-fact tillers of the soil it was because they did Dot understand him and did not care for his confidences. His was one of those souls that hungered for sympathy, for kindred companionship, and found them not. There is no keener sense of loneliness than that. He was thinking of all this as he sat —tired and dusty—on the beam of bis plow and looked out vacantly over the acres of brown earth that lay in long ribbons before him. Something in the gathering twilight saddened him. May be It w r as tbe thought of his isolation, maybe a vague yearning for a differ ent life, maybe—and much more likely —the dream of a fair-haired lass he bad left behind'in Indiana. "Hey there, Lawson! working purty late, ain't you?" shouted a voice from the road. "Better unhook and go home." "I was just thinking so myself," was the answer. "It's been a long day, Frank." _ "By the way, Tom, did you hear the news?" "What news?" "Governor's called out all the militia to help fight the bloody Spaniards down In Cuba. Tbe Canton company's goin' to Springfield to-morrow morning und wants forty men to make it a hundred, That night Lawson tossed on bis bed until long after midnigbt. Why shouldn't he be one of the forty? May' be he would be killed If be went to war and maybe he would come back a cap tain. These and a hundred other possi bilities crowded upon bis mind. He scanned tbem ail aa tbey appeared against the background of hla lonely life in Round Prairie. While the little farm house was still and every other soul In it was sound asleep he crept out of bed, quietly don ned hla only suit of clothes, felt bis way to the door and passed ont into the night Canton was five miles away, but bis footsteps were set Bturdlly toward a distant glow on tbe sky. There he knew nestled tbe little city, asleep, and waiting the bugler's reveille that would call "the boys" to war for tbe first time In a third of a century. No need here to tell of the excite ment that attended tbe mobilisation of Company M and its inarching away to tbe train already panting at tbe sta tion as If eager to begin tbe run to Springfield. No need either to picture tbe scenes of parting. A similar drama was enacted that April morning in 1808 In two scores of towns la Illinois. It v Is sufficient to say that not one of the thousands who gathered at the station grasped the hand of Tom Lawson and said 'Good-by." Not a tear was shed for him, not a hand was waved to him as the train pulled out, not one voice expressed the hope that he would come back alive, and yet—be was one of tbo forty who had volunteered to help bring Company M to tbe maximum of strength. As the train reeled off its miles past fields and farmhouses and wayside vil lages Lawson felt that he bad (Ait loöse from the old life, but there was a spirit of comradeship aboard that already bound him to bis new-found friends with a tie stronger than any be had known In Round Prairie. He took to himself a share of the cheers of the throngs along the way. It was grateful music in bis ears. He wished—deep In his heart—that Lucy might see him with these rollicking sol diers. Maybe-how fondly be thought it—she might give blm tbe rose she had withheld in a one-time pleading, a rose that .would stand for hope and—some thing more. The train swung around a long curie. A monster dome heaved ItBelf intr view. From its top a flag shook its stripes in the wind. Another starry emblem beckoned from a lofty pole. "Camp Tanner!" was the cry that spread from coach to coach. Ten min utes later Company M was inside the post Hundreds of men just like them selves had preceded them. Hundreds more followed, and when taps was sounded that night 11,000 men slept tbe sleep of a soldier. Lawson began the rudiments of . drill in the awkward squad. Tbe guns of the novices were sticks, their belts pieces of rope or strap, their bats a motley array of derbies and fedoras. They were awkward enough, but—men do not laugh at the stumbling volun teer when war looms abpre the hori zon. What a day it was—that first Sun day in camp. Fifty thousand fathers, mothers, sisters and sweethearts came to say another good-by. They brought books and flowers and great boxes of sweets and poured tbem around, thick and redolent as tbe apples in grand father's cellar. There was something for every man —save Tom Lawson. Nobody had come to see him, nobody had thought to send or bring him a souvenir, a token of love or friendship. For an hour be looked on the joy of the others In si lence, then he turned away and crept into the shadows of a tent The regimental chaplain saw him go, and guessed the truth. Significant whispers traveled from man to man, from company to com pany. Somebody secured a huge wood en box. On it were scrawled in big black letters, the words: • ••*••*••••• * PRIVATE TOM LAWSON, • __ * Company M, Fifth Regiment, • * From His Comrades. * **••*••••••* **••*••••••* Before the last letter was In its place there was material enough on the ground to fill a half-dozen such boxes. Comrades came singly and In groups with contributions—the very choicest bits from their own packages. If a single man in the whole reghnent was not represented he never had the face to own it afterward. Two sturdy fellows carried the box to Lawson's tent. Company after com pany fell in behind and marched along as escort. Such a bubbling up of sol diers' zeal never before was seen. There was no presentation speech. Somebody reached Into the tent and literally dragged Lawson out of It. Somebody else thrust Into his arms a bunch of flowers big enough to start a greenhouse. Then they set the box at Ills side and cheered until the whole post echoed with the sound. When' Lawson saw the black letters on the box—he was still a soldier, brawny and strong and brave as any of them, hut his lips trembled and a lump was in his throat, a lump that got In the way of every word he tried to utter. "If that bunch of fellows hadn't caught me and tossed me in that blan ket just then," fie said afterward, "it's a cinch that I'd have been blubbering like a schoolboy over that box." Of course the newspapers got hold of tbe story and published it the next day. For a week thereafter Lawson re ceived from half a dozen to a score of boxes every day from men and women he had never heard of. There were flo'wers and edible delicacies, there were books and papers, phials of medi cine and articles of clothing. Bibles there were enough to stock the com pany. From motherly women were letters of sympathy and advice, from young girls perfumed notes, telling Lawson that their hearts went out to him because—tbey had brothers In tbe service. From isolation and loneliness be suddenly became the most thought of man in camp. He shared with bis fellows tbe con tents of tbe boxes and read to tbem most of tbe letters, but there was one be kept to himself. It came from In diana. It waa signed "Lncy." With It was a faded rose. It was tbe rose that stood for hope—and something more.— Chicago Record-HerMd. Planting. First Neighbor—Hallo, you look busy. Wbat are you doing? Second Neighbor—Planting some of my seeds, that's all. First Neighbor (suspiciously)—H'm! Thought It loked aa if you were plant ing one of my hens. Second Neighbor—Well, that's all right Tbe seeds are Inside.—Moon shine. ^ _ People are generally cross on rainy days, we often think, not because of tbe gloomy weather, but because they lose their umbrellas. to it to at a RECENT LAW DECISIONS. A bill, by a stockholder owning a email portion of the stock of .a corpo ration, complaining of the policy there of, should allege that neither himself nor hit predecessor in interest ever acquiesced in suçii policy, since he would be bound by such acquiescence,' 48 At Rep. (N. Jj) 912. Where the publisher of a newspaper has no actual malice in the publication of a libelous article, ' actual damages only can be recovered« and evidence of ' the bad reputation of a plaintiff In libel before the publication of the libel com plained' of Is admissible aa bearthg on (he question of actual damages.- 04 Pac. Rep. (Cal.) 576. < The objection that a judge Bitting In the Unjted States Circuit Court is dis qualified , because of personal Interest or relationship to the parties from act ing upon preliminary questions aris ing in a suit ia one for determination by such judge, bolda the United States Circuit Court of Appeals, in the case of Coltrane va. Templeton (100 Fed. Rep., 370), and bla decision that be is not disqualified from acting In auch matters is not reviewable by appeal. One who signa a promissory note in the name of another, by himself as at torney in fact, but who, to the knowl edge of tbe payee find a subséquent indorsee, had no authority to use the other's name, and tjiho refuses their solicitation to sign his own name and bind himself personally, is not liable upon tbe note as bis contract, notwith standing the fact .that It wsb given in a transaction of his own, and that be was generally using the name signed to the note as a trade name. 64 Pac. Rep. (Kan.) 596. Defendant obtained twelve shares of stock in a building association by ol fering a premium of $50 a share, anu executed a note for $1,200, Interest pay able on $600. His certificate of stock provided that he should pay 60 cents monthly for each share until it was ma tured or withdrawn, 50 cents of which should go into the loan fund, and that whenever the monthly payments ou the shares, together with the apportioned profits, amounted to $100, the share should be deemed matured. The uote specified that, if tbe installments of interest and monthly payments on the stock were paid until it matured, de fendant, on surrender of the stock, should be entitled to tbe cancellation of his note. The company became in solvent, and the receiver sued to fore close defendant's mortgage. Held, that defendant was not entitled to offset against his debt the amount paid as premiums ou his stock, on the ground that payment of the monthly dues, so far as it applied to six shares of the stock, was in reality a payment of the premiums contracted for, since it would give the borrowing stockhold ers an unjust advantage over the bon borrowing members, who were, of ne cessity, 'compelled lo await the final settlement of the affairs of the com pany, and to accept for their stock whatever the receiver might be able to pay. 85 N. W. Rep. (Iowa) 814. His Wife's Triumph. It has been the fate of many men of letters to have Ill-health bearing them down as they struggled on toward lit erary achievement. Thus beset lu re cent times were Stevenson, Richard Jeffries and J. It. Green. Each of these, it happened, had a. high-hearted wife to keep him up, even to help him with the actual labor of writing. "The Life and Letters of J. It. Green" show forth a great and sweet man; they show, too, a wife whose sympathy and fortitude helped to make his accom plishment possible. In copying the vast amount of manu script of her husband's books Mrs. Green contracted writer's cramp, nnd was forced to stop using her right hand. This looked like a final obstacle in the way of the invalid, who did much of his thinking in bed. and could not write himself. But Mrs. Green set to work at once learning to write with her left hand. One of her first practice pages, which she was about to destroy with tbe rest, her husband took quietly and put in bis pocket. Years afterward, when 111 bealtb seemed unbearable, and in dis couragement be felt tbat he could not work, be used to take out that piece of paper, a living record of his wife's tri umph over difficulty. When he saw tbe painful, patient strokes by which Mrs. Green bad learned to write with her left hand, he could work on with something near to inspiration. Hla "Quadk" Doctor. Dr. Robert F. Weir, of tbe College of Physicians and Surgeons, waa de scribing an operation he had perform ed for tbe purpose of making a new nose for a man who bad lost tbat more or lese ornamental organ. To replace tbe lost bony framework Dr. Weir bad made use of part of tbe breastbone ol a duck. Tbe doctor concluded by aay ing: "Tbe man was very well satisfleo witb the result, but I do not think 1 shall repeat the operation, for this pa tient persists in speaking of me as bis 'quack' doctor."—New York Times. A Study of Philosophy. Morgiana bad just poured boiling oil on tbe forty thieves when tbe robber rqptain gave tbe signal. Receiving no answer, he lifted the lid from tbe near est receptacle, only to discover the fate of hie men. "Wouldn't tbat jar yon?" he exclaim ed to All Baba, with tears In hla eyes. "Not me," replied bla boat; "but h certainly waa pot lock."—New York Times. Tbe great drawback to tbe beat flab stories Is tbat they ore wholly owe of In ' GRANT'S- A TTORNE Y GENERAL. Is Ks- Katars Political Ufa aa Mayor of Port load. Ora. George H. Williams, tbe new Mayor of Portland, Ore., cat a wide swath in national politics a generation ago and were It not for a If » «1 # i# i O. H. WILLIAMS. woman's cabal Would have been Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States. Mr. Williame was born in Co lumbia County, New York, in 1823, stud ied law and settled in-Iowa, where, in 1847, be was elect ed a Circuit Judge. In 1853 President Pierce appointed him Chief Justice of tbe Territory of Oregon. President Buchanan reappointed him In 1857, but not being In accord with some of Mr. Buchanan's Ideas on slavery be resign ed and became a Republican. In 1864 bo was elected to the United States Senate. It waa he who drew up tbe reconstruction bill and be bad charge of it In the Senate. From 1872 to 1875 he waa Attorney General under Grant On tbe death of Chief Justice Salmon P. Chase Mr. Williams was nominated to succeed him. But the Senate never acted on the appointment. The reasons for this were in large measure social. Mrs. Williams waa a talented, beau tiful woman and was a leader In Wash ington society. But while popular with a large element she was unpopular witb a certain influential coterie, con sisting of some Senators, Representa tives, Judges and other blgb officials. It was a thorn in their Bides to hhve her the wife of a cabinet minister; what would it be when she was the wife of tbe Chief Justice? The pill was a very bitter one for them. The Idea of this lady from faraway Oregon, the backwoods, as they said, ranking them! It must not be. And they uni ted, almost as one, in the most bitter warfare upon Judge Williams that baa ever been known at the national capi tal. Mr. Williams asked Grant that his name be withdrawn and reluctantly this was done. Some time later Mr. Williams left the Cabinet and practiced law in Washington. Finally be re turned to Oregon and now, at tbe age of 79, be re-enters political life as tbe chief magistrate of Portland. "BLIND BILLY" KENT. 1 Chicago Alderman Who Perished in the Hanltartnm Fire. The fire which destroyed the sanita rium of St. Luke's Society in Chicago had many sad incidents, not least of which was the pa t h e 11 c struggle wage! for life by Aid. W. E. Kent, who, like the other inmates, was tern-" porarily confined owing to madness brought on by drugs and drink. Blind and alone, freed from the all>. w. e. Kent, bonds that held him to his bed, by the flames leaping across the room and lapping at the mat tress, he made his way to the bars which held him captive and beat his hands against the screening until be fell back suffocated. The man who perished In this horri ble manner was one of the most iui cr esting characters in Chicago. The life of "Blind Billy," as he was called, had been a tumultuous one. He came from the old Kent family. From youth his companionship was with politicians of the ward type, policemen and detec tives, and characters about popular bars. He had a ready gift of speech, good memory, and a fondness for par liamentary law. He was kindly to the poor, helpful to his constituents of the understrata class. With these qualities was an unfor tunate appettle for liquor, an abusive tongue and considerable physical strength. Long before he went to tbe Legislature he made men fear him by tbe power of bis tongue and hts will ingness to fight if bis word was disput ed. He studied civil engineering soma and dabbled in real estate, but bis real business was practical politics. Ha won victory after victory against tha strongest kind of opposition. He serv ed two terma in the Legislature early In tbe 90'a, making for himself a uame there for being "practical" in all be un dertook. ♦ In 1892, while in Chicago, he engaged in a saloon brawl, during which a drunken man shot out both hla eyes. For a long time it was supposed be would die, but he recovered and re turned to tbe Legislature sightless. Wben his term was ended he announc ed tbat he would run for the City Coun cil, and did ao, gaining hla seat quit# easily. After hla blindness came he waa al ways led about by a boy or young man, the last one being a civil service mes senger, whom be paid $400 a year for caring for him. Although blind, he waa willing to fight anywhere, but hia In firmity probably saved blm hla life a number of times. He knew tbe heads of every big corporation in the city, and bla figure was familiar to every man, woman and child In hts ward. Antitoxin Cures Diphtheria. Recent experiences at Colchester, En gland, have once more demonstrated the vaine of antitoxin aa a remedy for diphtheria. In a total of 286 patients only 5.6 per cent of the antitoxin cassa died, while of those treated by othar methods 28.9 per cent succumbed. It la a woman's Idea of being wo» anly and motherly to talk bad j to a baby.