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Published every Saturday at Bay SL Lows, Miss. What Are Little folks Mud* Of. “What are little folks made of? Sugar and spice And everything nice. That's what little folks are made of. w Of all the queer things That Moth er Goose sings. That is the queerest As well as the dearest. But I’d lust like'to add Of each lass and lad That love is the spieo That makes them so nice. —Little Men and Women. Homo Interesting Dolls. The Queen of Uoumaniu was sponsor for a peculiarly Interesting exhibit that was lately held in London for the benefit of certain charities and hos pitals. She placed on exhibition her famous collection of dolls dressed In the costumes of various countries. The Queen of Holland herself dressed some Dutch dolls; and. Indeed, dcdllea of every nation dressed ns fine ladles and as pheasants, were represented. In order that some distinctive Ameri can dolls might be In the queen'a family, the Now York Tribune offered prlzei for five typically American In costume. Four "lady” dolls and one “gentleman" doll took the prize. The latter prize appropriately went to a boy, a New Jersey lad. whose doll rep resented “Uncle Sam" tn gorgeous at tire. Of the others, one In rich bro cade and tine cap represented Martha Washington, one was a negro mammy In white apron and brilliant turban, a third was I’rlscllla, the I'nrltan maid en In simple frock and howled cloak, the fourth was Pocahontas In beaded dress and moccasins. Altogether the American children can have no cause to be ashamed of their exhibit. Tniklth Hoy* lit Hrhool. The beginning of n mohammedan boy's school life Is always made an oc casion for a festival. It occurs on hla seventh birthday. The entire school goes to the new scholar's home, lead ing a richly caparisoned and flower bedecked donkey. The new pupil Is placed on this little lu-ast, and. with the hodja, or teacher, lending, the chll thc hodja. or teacher. leading the chil dren form a double flic and escort him to the school house, singing Joyous songs. To a stranger the coimuuu Turkish school presents singular scene. The pupils are seated cross-legged on the bare marble pavement in the porch of the mosque, forming a semi-circle about the hodjn. who Is, as a rule, an old fat man. lie holds In his hand a •tick long enough to reach every stu dent By means of this rod he Is en abled not only to preserve order among the mischievous, hut to urge on the boy whose recitation Is not satisfactory. But. ns a rule, hodjasare lazy and often fall asleep. Then It is that the pupils enjoy what the Ameri can boy would style a "picnic.” A trick they especially like to play on their sleeping teacher Is to anoint bis hair and long gray heard with wax, which is. of course, very difficult to get rid of Vou may lie sure that when the In dia wakes |ie makes good use of his lengthy weapon. • Some of the answers these little Turks yecelve to their questions would make an American child open his eyes In amazement. A half-grown hoy, hi the presence of a missionary, who tells the story, asked the hodjn: “What makes It rain?’ "Up In the clouds.” answered this wise teacher, “our prophet Mohammed, and the one who belongs to Christians, went into business together, the. profits to bo divided. One night Mohammed stole all the profits and ran away. In the morning, when the Christian god discovered his loss, he pursued Moham med In thegolden chariot, the rumbling of whose wheels makes the thunder. The lightning Is the bullets of tiro which the god shot after his fleeing partner. Mohammed, finding (lint he could not escape In midair, plunged Into the sea; the Christian god fol lowed him, and the shock splashed the water out and It fell to the earth In rain.” And the young Turks, believing the teachings of the liodja. grow up with out furthiy Investigating the cause of rain, the source of which Is taught an American child In the kindergarten.— Boston Herald. th Rltrri of Chin*. The rivers of China are her glory, and then* are few countries In the world so well watered and none other with such splendid natural water transportation facilities. The three great rivers of the empire are the Yangtse-Klung (child of the ocean), the Hoang Ho (Yellow river) and the Chu Kiang (I’earl river or Canton river). Of these the Yangtze Is much the larg est, flowing through extensive and fer tile plains and Unally emptying Into the eastern sea, after traversing a dis tance of over 2000 miles. Its dis charge Is estimated at 1,000,000 cubic feet per second. The banks of the Yangtze are crowded with towns and villages, the must famous of whleh are Nankin and the new treaty port of Hankow. The Hoang Ho. or Yellow river, is noted especially for Its frequent and vlolentifloods. Itseurreut is very rapid and its course sinuous. The Pearl, river, while not nearly so large us the others, Is a stream of great Importance, says the Kansas City Sta r, and Innumerable ves sels trade upon Its waters. At some points It spreads lulu large lakes; In others Is passes bet ween narrow gorges, which if dammed, would afford large storage capacity for irrigation. The Chinese, however, have not prac tically worked out Irrigation In Its dif ferent phases ns completely as would be expected of such an agricultural people. Irrigation, nevertheless. Is practiced to a considerable extent through the Use of the waters of the Grand canal and by wells. The Grand or Imperial canal Is a work of great magnitude. It was constructed In the seventh cen tury and enlarged In the thirteenth Century. It traverses the great plain And flows with but slight current for • distance of 700 miles. While built foe purposes of communication, its waters are used largely for irrigation, and thousands of drains and creeks bare been made to connect with It along Its route. . The modes of Irrigation are ancient and crude. One of the most pictur esque is by means of the water wheel, which is need where the land to be watered ts well above the channel of the river. The wheel is turned by the force of the current and Is perhaps 80 feet high. Its buckets are sect)One of banboo, which, as they are raised by the motion of the wheel, empty their contents Into through* or ditch es. Hollow banboo pipes or tubes are sometimes used for distributing water over the fields. They rest upon wood en support* and branch In every di rection from the source of supply. The chain pump Is also a common means of lifting water, the chain run ning up from the water on a slant and being provided with little bucket* at Intervals, which, a* they reach the highest point and begin to descend, discharge their content*. These ma chines are worked hy buffaloes or sometime* by human labor, s man working a crank with bis feet some thing after the manner of riding a bicycle. The most primitive and la borious method Is the ancient well ■weep, such as Is seen today on many an old New England homestead. A Lilli* Ctrl's fewer Ovsr Aulusli. When Keeper MeCurreu's elephant breaks It* chains and the coyote Jumps ovsr the liars of Ita cage, at they hare dune aforetime. Instead of pursuing with prods and wire lassoes and having a light to bring the ani mals under control, the keeper should send for Dorothy Tututii, flv* years old. daughter of C. F. Putnam of Chicago, and the wild beaata In hri present* will become tractable. Little Dorothy, all unconscious of It herself, ha* s wonderful power over all sorts of animals and birds, wild and domestic. Unruly horses when she approaches cease their balking and submit to the bit. Dogs which It Is necessary to chain because of their savngenesa allow her to pull their tails, tweak their ears and then turn about and lick her hand In gratitude. Whenever she goes out Into the barn yard on the farm of her father at their summer home In Vermont, the turkeys, the ducks and the chickens follow her olmut as though she were playing the pipe of Pan. The phoebe that nests under the porch and the catbird that builds In the lilac, brood their young contentedly, while little Dorothy with her fore-flngcra stroke* their feathers. Upon this Vermont farm from which Dorothy Putnam has Just returned there Is a particularly valuable cow, valuable not only on account of Its milk giving qualities, but because ol the fineness of Its strain of blood. The cow unfortunately hua a temper that Is In perfect proportion to Its money value. It Is so thoroughly vi cious a beast that two farm hands •re obliged to put tn work equivalent to u day's labor every time the crea ture la mllket). She Is driven In from the pasture, nut peacefully as go the rest of tbe herd, but only after a hard ami determined tight to break through the cordon of dogs and men that are urging her to the milking shed. The man who undertakes the milking alteration has never been able to get his Ilf* Insured, and this notwithstanding the fact that the cow Is both stanchioned and hobbled be fore the three-legged tlool and tbe pall are adjusted. One day Dorothy was taken down to the Held when tbe cows were being driven borne. She was at the extreme left of the line of men and dog drlv ers when the vicious cow. making a lotger rnt than usual, attempted to turn the left flank of the enemy by a wild charge. Dorothy was directly In line and was caught up Just In time by a man who rushed her away from the danger point. Almost instantly the cow slopped, turned about and without making another break mad* her way peacefully to the. barn, this procedure astounded the hands. After the milking wasbverandthecowswere U'rucil Irose ol.ee more the hitherto sp. vagt* creature walked Into the barn yanl.jvokcil her bead over a stone wall on the other side of which little t’orcihy I'.tram was standb-.g rod gently mooed. The child gave It n handful of clover and stroked Its muzzle. The next day Dorothy went to the milking shed and stood between the double row of stanchions directly In front of "the crazy cow." While she was the re the creature was ns gentle ns a lamb, and that night for the Ilrst time she was milked without being hobbled. After this the cow was constantly on the lookout for Dorothy, and when ever she approached the pasture from an adjoining Held the creature would go over. iK>ke her head over the fence and welcome the child lu her own way. Dorothy fed and petted her strange iwt and Anally went fearlessly Into the Held with It. The cow lit erally became tbe child's guardian, and resented the approach of any other member of the herd. Dorothy used to lead the animal to the milk ing sited, and when the fact became abaolntely certain that the creature was Infatuated with the child Dorothy was placed upon Its luck and allowed to ride It altont Just as she rode her (N>t pony. Occasionally she would take trips for some distance along the country roads, the cow behaving In u manner that put to shajne the gentle actions of the stablest old family horse on the place. All sorts of explanations are offered for the strange attachment of the cow for the child. It seemed that Jnst be fore Dorothy's arrival the row's calf hud been taken away from her. She had mourned Its loss with evidences of almost hnuiaii sorrow. She had al ways been vicious, but after the kill ing of her calf she became positively dangerous. It was urged that tbe cow bad adopted Dorotßy In the place of the calf. Thin hypothesis was spoiled, others declaimed, by. the fact of the child's wonderful Influence over all animals. When Dorothy rode along the country road* on her row the farmers' doga, Instead of barking at the usual spectacle of a cow with a rider, would wag their tails, follow along In the wake of tbe row and make a part of the curious procession. Dorothy has returned to- her Chi cago home. It is with a good deal of Interest that reports concerning the actions of her pet cow since her de parture are awaited. Tbe wonder Is whether the creature will show evid ences of loneliness while still remain ing tractable or will return to her old savage ways. Another thing that Dorothy’s friends are curious about Is Whether or not next year when she returns to her Vermont homestead the cow will rfoogniae her one* more and take op agaih the old ways.—Chicago Record. Pat Cannot 801 l Over. Housekeepers will welcome a re cent Invention, the result of tbe In genuity of a Berlin machinist. It la a pot which cannot boll over. By means of a |>erforfed rim the over flowing flub] returns to the pot. TWILIGHT. The tnn la low, the tide Is high, Ths sky as red as woman's lip*. Shows red la the river's reflected glow, Ssve the silver lino where the oarsman dips; Strangs, subtle hour, that no spell esu •tty. A link twlxt tomorrow and yesterday. —Louise ljums Lander. aaaaaaaaaaaaaa 1 —THE — £ j REVOLT OF MOSES. I J By Hop* Darina- Not the Muses of sacred history— Just plain Vases Smith, farmer, aged 110: tall, with stooping shoulders; face furrowed with wrinkles, that Is. the part visible above bis grizzled beard; eyes gray and sleepy, ye wllb a kindly light la their faded depths, Sarah Ann. his wife, was also tall but straight, carrying her head stiffly erect. Her blue eyes were very wide open; tier brown half. In which were only a few silver threads, was always smooth, and her thin red lips had a fashion of closing that Moses well un derstood. For 30 years they had dwelt togeth er. In all these years Mrs. Smith had commanded Moses ami Moses had obeyed. There had been but few occa sions on which he bad advanced opinions of bis own. Hut ibis fair morning, when the sun was. in count less dewdropa, multiplying his own brightness, and the south wind wooed the rosebuds into perfect bloom. Moses Smith determined to have for oriee, at least, Ids own way. Two weeks before he had heard his wife say to a neighbor.— "Anybody can wind Moses round their linger.” Now Moses knew his weakness; was aware that his wife knew It, for did not she tell him of It every day? But to discuss it with another! That wns different. He had pondered the mat ter for 11 days, mid his mind was fully made up to tills day assert himself, but he ate his breakfast of toast, fried potatoes, linin, coffee mid molasses cookies In Ids usual silent way. As they rose from the table Mrs. Smith said,— "I want yon to churn right away, Moses, 'fore It gels so hot." "All right. I'll he buck from the barn soon,” and he slouched off at bis usual leisurely gait. Mrs. Smith entered the pantry, raised a trap door that led to the cel lar, and descending, saw that the Jar of cream was ready fop the churn. Then she went about hernsunl morning work. In a short time she heard her husband's voice at the kitchen door. "Is that air cream ready?" "Of course It Is. Hut yon baln't got the water.” "Yes, 1 have. I Jest drawod three buckets." "Now, Moses Smith, I baln't heard yon carry It Into the woodhonse." “1 guess yon didn't. I'm going to churn out under the apple tree.” There was uu ominous silence. Mrs. Smith persisted In using an old fashioned dash churn. In warm weather this churn was placed in a tub of cold water, drawn with a wind lass from the stone-lined well by the kitchen door. A few steps from the well stood n gnarled old apple tree, whose spreading branches made a canopy of breezy shade. Moses had many times hinted a desire to do the churning here instead of In the wood house, hut his wife always forbade. "You bring that tub of water Into the woodhonse. Tbe churn Is out there, all ready, and yon see to It yon don't spatter the cream when yon empty It.” She went up-stalrs, opened the win dows of her sleeping room and put the bed to air. She also tidied her careful ly kept sitting-room. When she went again to the kitchen, she stood for an Instant transfixed with astonishment by the picture framed by the open door. Under the apple tree stood her hus band, his straw hat laid aside, while both hands grasped the churn dasher, •lowly propelling It up and down. "Moses Smith!” Sarah Ann pushed open the screen and advanced to his side. "What do you mean by bringing that cream out here? Didn't yon hear what 1 Said?" “Yes. As to what I meant by twing in' the cream out here, I meant to churn It that's all.” “Well, you won’t do It here. You carry that churn straight Into the woodhonse. 1 don't see what does make you act so like * a fool, Moses Smith." “I ludn’t actin’ like a fool, Sary Ann. I cun churn Jest ns well out here, it's a real pleasure to listen to the mother robin over yeuder and to see the sun shine peepin' through the leaves." "Humph! Poetry and work don't go well together. Why don't you do as 1 tell you?" Mr. Smith dropped both hands from the churn dasher, drew himself np as straight as was possible after stoop ing so many years, and said distinct ly.— “’Cause ! don't want to.” “1 don't care what you want," Mrs. Smith returned angrily. “I tell yon not to churn another stroke here. I guess I ” "Sary Ann,” Moses leaned one arm reflectively against the tree; "I don’t care a mite whether I churn or not. but if 1 do it will he right here ami nowhere else." For a moment she was speechless. ‘T'd like to know what yon mean." she gasped. “The Idea of talkinc like ” h Never mind. The question 'l>ears to be, shall I churn or not? 1 tell yon plain, If I do, It will be right here." What did It mean? And ho had twice Interrupted her! Mrs. Smith was not vanquished, but she was so con fused that a trace seemed the best thing she could think of. "Do as you like," she said shortly, walking uigay and slamming the door behind her. Moses took her at her word. An hour Inter she found that, after finish ing the churning, he had carried the churn and contents to the place where she usually worked the butter. She was still undecided what to think of her husband’s daring. However, things seemed otherwise mnoh as ever, for It was not until they were seated at the dinner table that Moses again asserted himself. “Why don’t yon take It, then?" push ing the plate toward him. The plate held two crusts. Moeee shook his head. “That’s too dry. Yon know my teeth air poor. You can feed that to the chickens, and I*ll take some of tbs now you baked today.” Moses thereupon rose and walked to the pantry. Here on a table lay half a dozen loaves, fresh from th# oven. He took up s brown crusted one and a knife. “Hoses Smith! Air you ersay? Don’t you hesr me? 1 say, you needn't cut that loaf of bread. This bread’s good enough.” It was 100 late. Already the sharp knife hud severed two slices from the loaf. "What do you mean?" the woman shrieked. “What do you menu. Mooes Smith?" "Now sec here, Rnry Ann, Til tell you what I mean. I mean to have some new bread, thut's all." and back to the table he strode, bread In hand. Mrs. Smith did not return to the table. Her husband saw little of her the remainder of the day. She retired curly, and when Moses came up to bed she was asleep, apparently. The next morning Mrs. Smith had re gained the use of her tongue and Ignor ing Moses’ declaration of Independ ence. scolded heartily about every thing else. Moses bore It in silence, retreating to the burn as soon as pos sible. It was Saturday. On the afternoon of that day the Smiths usually drove to Ovid, three miles distant, with farm produce. This particular afternoon Mrs. Smith arrayed herself in her best cashmere and Sunday bonnet. ‘Tm going to the missionary meeting nt Sister Swln’s,” she announced, ns Moses lifted the Jar of butter Into the hack of the buggy. "Here Is n basket of cottage cheese. You can drive round on Mnple street and sell It out. Be sure yon go to the hack doors, and then'll give you five cents for two balls. There’s Just 00 balls—a dollar nnd a half, worth. 1 want the money to make out 10 dollars I'm going to lend Widow flreen. She’ll pay me 50 cents for the use of It three months. Now don’t step on my dress," ns he clumsily took his place ut her side. "Fifty cents for .three months." Moses shipped the fst horse with the lines. "That'll be two dollars for n year. Two dollars for ten dollars. I,et me see—why, Sary Ann, that's 20 per cent." “What If It Is?" There was a brief pause, then Moses began again. "But, Rnry Ami, Wldder Omni Is awful poor. Why don't you lend her the money for nothin'? It's to finish payin’ for her sewin' machine, and there's only you and me, and we’ve got two thousand dollars abend, 'sides the farm." "If yon can't talk sense, do keep still. I,end It for nothin'. Indeed! Be sure you understand 'bunt the cheese." "See here, Sary Ann, I shan't peddle out your cheese for uuy such purpose. You can do It. or I'll take It to the store. But 1 don't do such work, while you air to missionary luectlu', to get the money fur you to grind down the poor with, that’s all." Moses deposited his wife ut Mrs. Swln's gate nnd drove off, making no reply to the command she hurriedly whispered ns she saw her hostess ut the door. Surely he would not fall her this time, lie would do the errand, for Moses disliked waste. She was sure that It would be all right, not withstanding his queer freaks of yes terday. So she dismissed the subject from her mind, and three hours later found him waiting for her In the ap pointed place. She clambered to her sent and they started home In silence. "Have a good nieetln'?" he ventured nt lust. "Yes, we did,” was her testy reply. They Were within half n mile of home when Moses dropped a handful of change In her lap. "Money fo‘r your cheese," he said quietly. She counted It twice. “There’s only 75 cents. Where’s the rest ?" ‘•That's all there Is," he declared doggedly. "I told you I shouldn’t peddle It out. Holden took 45 balls, three for five cents, at the store. I give old Mrs. Blake five balls, aud that Morley girl, who Is trylu' so hard to support her little brothers, the rest. They both belong to our church, you know." No reply. When they reached the house, as Mrs. Smith stepped upon the ground she looked Into her husband's face. “Once for all. I ask you what do you mean, Moses Smith?” “Well, now, Snry Ann. 1 don’t mind tollin' you I never promised to obey you, but I've doue It fur 30 year. I'm through now. that's all,” Without n word she walked Into the liouse. When Moses entered an hour later he found his favorite cream biscuits and fresh gingerbread for sup per. Mrs. Smith talked, told her hus band about the missionary meeting, and ended by asking him If he would step over to Mrs. tJreon's for her. "Tell her I will have that ten dollars for the first of the week; and tell her 1 shan’t be in any hurry for It, and to never mind any Interest." Moses made no reply, but hastened on his errand.—Waverly Magazine. PEARLS OF THOUGHT. Search others for their virtues, and thyself for thy vices.—Fuller. Trust that man in nothing who has not a conscience In everything.— Sterne. To the noble mind, rich gifts wax IHior when givers prove unkind.— Shakespeare. (iratltude Is a fruit of great culti vation; you do not find It among gross people.—Johnson. Every evil to which we succumb Is a benefactor; wo gain strength of the temptation we resist.—Emerson. 'Tis now the summer of your youth. Time has not crept the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has watched them.—Moore. It Is a impossible fijr a man to be cheated by any one but himself, ns for a thing to be mid not to be at the same time.—Emerson. The truest help we can offer to an a filleted man is, not to take his burden from him. to call out his best strength that he may be able to bear the burden.—Phillip Brooks. This, this should he our ceaseless work: to crush the enemy within our selves: dally to get a braver hold on him: and win some ground upon the better path.—Thomas A. Kempis. Petty cares need great affections to prevent them from disturbing our tempers. Small, Insistent and trouble some tasks require large ends and alms, that they may be diligently and faithfully peformed.- Henry W. Cross key. SAVING THE LOBSTERS. hunting fora means of prevent* INC their extermination. Csagr*** Hat AullwrlHt aa laniU|t. tlsa— liar. UN tba Wbult.aU psM* af Lab.tar. Hat larraatat Ova. too ft Caat.—ktraaga Habit* of Ik* Dallcaajr. Congress at the latt aesslou author laud uu Investigation to discover a practical means of preventing the • termination of the lobster and of In creasing the supply, writes W. E. Cur tis, In the Chicago Record. An ap propriation of 17000 was made, and Professor H. C. Dumpers of Brown university,' Providence, has been con ducting experiments during the last season. Since 1880 the wholesale price of lobsters has Increased over 800 per cent., which Is due to the growing scarcity as well aa the growing de mand. and there is fear that this suc culent form of sea fruit, like the buf falo, will soon become extinct unlaid something Is done for Its preservation. The ftsli commission has been hatching eggs and restocking the fisheries for years, but cannot keep pace with the destruction caused by man and nature combined. The high prices have In duced the fisherman to catch a* many lobsters at possible, and they have exhausted the supply In some of the waters which were formerly the most prolific, but the greatest difficulty Is to protect the lobster against his own kind. lobsters are very immoral. They are cannibals. They cat their own babies. The stronger devour the weak er. It lias been the practice of the fish commission to place the young lobsters In the ocean as soon ns they reach the swimming age. Later, as they grow older, they seek the rocky bottoms, and hiding there, live In com parative safety until enticed Into the nets nnd traps of the fishermen. But It ts almost Impossible to protect the little onea during the swimming age. The laws of the New England states prohibit the taking of lobsters of less than 10 Inches In length, but the lob sterers have to work so bard to make a living that they are apt to violate the law and conceal the smaller lobsters uutil they can take them to the can neries, The eggs are carried by the fe males until hatched and can lie ob tained in unlimited numbers, but Dr. Bumpers bus not yet discovered how to protect them when they are hatched. Owing to the formation of the coast of Maine, lobsters are found there In greater abundance than lu any place In the United States. In the early days It was thecustuiutofishenrlydur lug the spring and full. lu the spring the lobsters eolUe lu to the corapnrn tlvuly shallow water, nnd before their numbers had been so greatly depleted they could be taken frequently lu dlp uels, hut they are now found In the summer in from three to 15 fathoms lu the uumerous passages between the Islands and the main land nnd In the lower reaches'of the bays and rivers. When the winter comes the lobster hustles out to sen at depths of from 15 to 50 fathoms. In the old days this used to protect him, but not so now. He has become so valuable that the fishermen keep right after him all winter long. Lobsters are caught In what fisher men call pots. A pot Is a frame of laths, about four feet long, two feet wide nnd 18 Inches high. There are openings nt each end, made of course Iwlue nnd are funnel-shaped. These funnels are fastened to the ends of the pot with the shortest side uppermost, so that when they ore In place they lead obliquely upward Into the pot, In stead of horizontally. The funnels arc about 12 inches deep nnd taper rapidly, forming an Inclined plane up which the lobsters must climb. Inside the pot, fastened to the bottom, is the bait —halibut, herring or cod head, slightly salted. The pots are let down to the bottom nnd held in place by stones Inside. The lobster has n keen sense nnd, smelling the halt, proceeds to In vestigate. climbs Into the funnel and drops Into the pot. The pots are hauled out once and sometimes twice n day when lobsetrn are plentiful. Formerly a lobstererkept only 25 or 60 pots, but he has been compelled to Increase the number to 100, and sometimes more, lu order to make a living owing to the scarcity of the gnme. The lobsters are collected by steam smacks from Boston and New York, which ply up and down the coast and buy for cash by count of the lobster ers. When they get a cargo they put In to a convenient port and ship by express to Boston and New York, but when the catch Is large and the mar ket Is well supplied they keep their supply in tanks made for the purpose In the hull of a boat until they reach home. In order to prevent the market from being flooded when the catch Is plentiful, lobster pounds have been built at different points along the coast by stretching wire nets around a por tion of a shallow bay or fencing off an Inlet or some small salt river In a slml lar manner. Here the lobsters are stored and fattened until they are needed for the market. Like all fishermen, lobsterers love to tell about the big catches they have made. A lobster 11 Inches long weighs two pounds; 12 inches, ttyo and a half pounds, and 15 Inches—which la a very good sire—four and a half pounds. Mr. Cobb of the United States tlsh commission In August last year saw a lobster at Beak Island which meas ured 44 Inches and weighed 25 pounds. The owner was carrying It from town to town In a small cart and charging 10 cents for people to look at It Dur ing the previous September Peter Mit chell caught a 25 pound lobster meas uring 45 Inches In 0 fathoms of water In Penobscot bay. These are the larg est ever known Waldertn'l Par. A field marshal commanding an ar my seems to be an expensive luxury, or necessity, as the case may be. It Is said that Count von Waldersee will receive 2000 marks, about SSOO, a month for bis pay as commanding offi cer: besides this, he will have an allow ance of 10,000 marks a month as table money, from which he must pay r o r his entertainments and also feed bis large staff. As field marshal’he will receive $750 a month (3000 marks) so that his monthly pay will be about 15.000 marks, besides a certain number of rations. His yearly pay wld be 180.000 marks, or about $45,000. It Was Too Truthful. dd you want to make another plate? Was the first a failure? Photographer—The picture was somewhat too close a likeness, ma'am! —Der Dorfbarbler. APPLES THI FAVORITE FRUIT. ■vary Pan. Beam ikias aad Corn. Uni ts** la teas Way. Our exports of spples to England and (Jet-many have steadily Increased, until today our shipments represent mors than the entire crop of 20 years ago. The last census showed that there were 120,000.000 spple trees In tble country, and that the average crop from these trees was from 140,- 000.000 to 5100.000.000 bushels. Since then mammoth apple orchards have been planted all over the country, and If a census of the trees was taken to day probably five times as many trees would he found. Apples ire used more generally now In this country than any other fruit, and science bos discovered many new forma In which they can be preserved for winter food. Thousands of bar rels of apples are required to keep the canning factories busy, and they arc put up In gallon and two-gallon cans with little dr no augar In them, so that they can be employed for pies, puddings and other desserts In win ter. Bakers make more general use of these apples than any other. Be sides thy thousands of barrels of ap pies that ore dried by the farmers In the sun for home consumption there are dozens of factories In dally opera tion bleaching and evaporating apples for home and export use. These evapo rated apples are In considerable de mand In South America, and we ex port Immense quantities of them the year round. In this form our apple exports nearly equal those shipped to Europe In the ifnturnl state. Evap orated apples will keep without cold storage In almost any climate, and it Is not unusual to find American evap orated apples carried by soldiers and travelers In tropical countries of Asia and Africa. Science has decreed that there shall be no waste to the apple crop, and every part of the fruit Is utilized In some way. Not even the core and skin are wasted. In ordinary apple years this waste of skin and cores amounts to 500 or 000 carloads, and during years of abundant yield It runs us high as 1200 and 1500 carloads. All this waste now goes to the factories which manufacture cheap Jellies. There are upward of 140 of these fac tories In this country, and they have an annual eapaclty of some 200,000.000 pouuda. These cheap Jellies have as their foundation the apple waste of the drying, canning and evaporating fac tories, and from a health point of view their product la Just as good ns the higher grade of Jellies. This waste of the apple factories Is simply subjected to high pressure, and the Juice obtained therefrom Is used as the fouudatiou for the Jellies. In abundant apple years this apple Juice Is used for a variety of Jellies, black berry, strawberry, raspberry and pine apple, With a little flavoring added the Jelly Is ready for the market Characlar TM by Up*. "Whether or not we believe In phren ology, physiology and kindred arleneei, there art 1 some peculiarities of fenture that are quite often Indicative of cer talu trait* of character," mild au ob aervant uiau. "From no one feature of the face can the disposition be more accurately rend than from the llpn, and eapeclally the upper Up. The lower one la lea* prophetic. A person with a nhort, shapely-curved upper Up Is nearly always of a hap py, lovable disposition. One with a short but stral|[ht upper Up Is apt to be of low a order of Intellect, and coarse In his tastes. The person with a long, straight upper Up I* the one to beware of. He has a will like ada mant. Is not always thoroughly trust worthy, I* apt to In* quarrelsome and Jealous, and Is, more often than not, an unmitigated politician. If be la gifted with a strong intellect he will make hla mark In one way or another; If he Is not, he may become a harmless per son, a parasite, or a scoundrel. The man whose upper lip protrudes Is apt to be a shrewd business man. The person whose mouth has a decided droop at the corners may lie a humor ist. a hypochondriac, or a poet. The possessor of a mouth curved In the style of Cupid’s bow Is Indeed happy for in nine cases out Of 10 he alsc possesses a refined, aesthetic and yet practical nature, susceptible to every beautiful and ennobling Influence."— Chicago Hecord. Too Many Cooks, Etc. The family had lieen away all sum mer, recreating at the seashore. Through some misunderstanding the servants had not been notified of the time of their return, and were not on hand to receive them. The conse quence was that the different members of the family bad to pitch In and get their own supper. Even the husband and father dunned an apron and helped to "set the table” and after ward to wash the dishes. After every thing bad apparently been cleared away, the wife discovered that the milk and not been returned to the cellar, and she asked her hus band to perform that service. He started gingerly down the gloomy stairway when suddenly those above beard a bumping sound that told what had happened. "Oh. gracious, did you spill the milk?" Inquired the wife, from the bend of the stairs. "No, I didn’t spill the milk or break the pitcher," was the forcible reply of the husband, "but I’m blamed If I don’t. There!" There was a crash and a splash, and the embryo male housekeeper onilie limping upstairs with a tired look on his face and the handle of the pitcher In his hand.—Detroit Free Press. Tti Ando-Kazan Kocrol, The source of national greatness, says Edmund Noble In the Atlantic. Is "not only the results In the Indivi dual of the life now being lived by a people, but It Is also—a high degree of race virility being understood—that subtle thing which we call brain struc tnre, on which are Impressed the whole experiences of a people In the past. If a nation is In decay, the past goes for little. hoVcver glorious It may have been; but If a people be. physio logically speaking. In the ascendant, then It takes Its strength or weakness from the character of its heredity This is why the United States and Oreat Britain are today the two might iest and most durable nations In the world. Satisfying In a high degree the conditions of social efficiency, they have both had rich race experiences, and It Is these experiences whlcb.4m pressed npon the structure of the In dividual brain, have made It strong with the whole strength of the Wonder ful process and story of Anglo-g., 508 development. 'mmmßmmsismmmsmm&i’ I THE REALM OF FASHION. j| New York City.—The bolero Is the all popular, all smart garment for after noon and evening wear. Tin cbic lit tle May Manton models shown are FANOV BOi-KHOS. ■" 1 ; suited to an Infinite variety of materi al and are susceptible of almost end less variation. The sleeveless design can bo made of brocaded velvet or silk, of all-over lace or embroidery, or of Jetted or embroidered net, as well na of Oriental embroidery and silk. Beneatb It can be worn chiffon, moussellne, Liberty, lace or such dress materials as silk crepe de Chine, and the lovely wool crepes. The second design Is ■tilted to silk, velvet, embroidery and all the heavier materials mentioned, or can be made to match the skirt and be worn w'th some tllmy peasant waist. As shown, the first Is of vel vet, embroidered with steel and Jet; the second Is of taffeta, with an edge of applique and revers of velvet. Both are essentially charming garments that are economical at the same time, as few patterns serve so admirably lu remodeling Inst year’s gowns. The large sleeves can always lie cut down and the body portion requires but small pieces, yet with n simple waist of moussellne or Liberty the Jacket STYLISH FANCY WAIST. will make the whole gown appear new and up-to-date. The sleeveless model is cut with fronts and back only that are extend ed over the shoulders to form epaul ettes. At the front are arranged bias bands by means of which It Is held In place. The second model Is also elm pie and fitted by menus of shoulder and under-arm seams only, but Is turned back at the fronts to, form small, tapering revers. The sleeves are one-seamed and slashed nt the lower edge. At the neck is a stock collar that, with the Jacket fronts, Is held by tiny straps of the material. To cut the sleeveless bolero one and a half yard of material twenty-one Inches wide, or one and one-eighth yard eighteen Inches wide will be re quired; to cut the bolero with sleeves two yards twenty-one Inches wide, or one yard forty-four or fifty Inches wide, with quarter yard of velvet for revers. Woman’* Fancy WaUt. The bodice that gives a waistcoat ef fect is much In vogue and is attractive In the extreme. The very charming May Manton model Illustrated In the large engraving Is adapte’d to theatre wear and all the many occasions that call for semi-dress. As shown It Is of white taffeta with black velvet and cream lace over white, but innumer able combinations can be devised, and all the popular blouse materials are suitable. Black, with Turkish em broidery aud deep cream chiffon, m place of the lace, Is chic. The foundation is a fitted lining, the back and under arm gores of which are smoothly covered with the material and which should be carefully boned. The yoking material is faced Into the back, but is made separately at the front, where It is Included In the right shoulder and nnder-unn seams uud hooks over onto the left, Tbe fronts proper are laid In three tucks t each front edge, and are Joined to the nar row vest portions, which are held In place by shaped straps aud trimmed with tiny enamel buttons. The deep bertha Is Joined to the fronts and at the lower edge of the yoke In back, the stock collar being attached to the plastron and closing at the centre back. The sleeves fit snugly at the upper portion, but flare slightly at the lower edge where they turn back to form pointed cuffs. The underslceves are full In Paquln style and are ar ranged over the fitted lining, which is cut full length, pointed bands finishing the wrists. To cut this waist for a woman of medium size three and a quarter yards of material twenty-one Inches wide, or two yards forty-four Inches wide will be required, with one and a quarts yard of all-over lace eighteen inches wide and one yard of velvet twenty one Inches wide. The Middle of the Unit. The muff which Is not a faultless eyl inder of qjlnk, ermiae or sable. Is of ten much be trimmed. In a made muff, as such is called to distinguish It from an all fur muff, it |* customary to ln roduce n “middle" piece of something line and soft to contrast with the vel vet or cloth used at the ends. Black Liberty silk. cunningly shirred occupies the middle of a castor velvet muff of large dimensions. Black mouiselloe do sole Is drawn Into puffs In the ceu tre of a ruby velvet muff, which u made Up to match a ruby velvet visit ing costume. flold TJiresd la MstsrUU. Gold tissues and gold passementerie are all the fashion this season. The dlctatress of this mode Is the Empress Theodora, as she appears In the col ored window at llavena. Beauty looks like a Russian Icon, or like a priest In' ultra-Byxanllne vestments. First rate materials, such as brocades and trimmings, in which there Is really gold thread, arc costly. But there are Imitations which look us well for a short time and then show the copper. —London Truth. Modish Mult Oovaring. A full dress muff Is now noted, not so much for Us size In the way of actu al circumference, but for the extreme length. This Is often covered with velvet, shirred upon cable cords, into three divisions. Bands of narrow fur are used to divide the “thirds” of n modish muff. Sometimes a wide Imnil of fur represents the middle third. Vel vet Is preferred to cloth for the muff covering Just now, because this Is em phatically a velvet year. Altnont n Coronet. The little side combs and chignon combs, by which the young girls hold the masses of pompndoured hair In place, are decidedly longer and larger this year than formerly. When sever al are worn they complete three-quar tern of a circle around the oolffure ami, lu fact, become almost a coronet. Nome of the new combs are ornamented to excess. Gilded balls, spikes or glit tering borders decorate the chignon combs. Demi OoM Orniunents. Dead gold ornaments are among the millinery novelties, and are extremely effective on black, red, and, Indeed, all dark colors. They are distinctly large and pronounced, and give the touch of completeness. They fasten long plumi • or simple bands of gold galloon. They cnteb the front buck or hold the side In place. But In some capacity they arc almost certain to be found cu the chic hat. A Bewitching Tengown. A bewitching tcugown Is of nccor dlun-pleatcd nun's veiling, caught at the aides to the llgurc by a girdle that leaves front and back loose. A fall of handsome ecru guipure outlines a yoke and appears also at the wrists. An Effective Finish. The toque of white panne, adorned with a wreath of white roses and sev eral impertinent little ostrich tips, Is considered in I’nrls the most effective finish for a black cloth coatumc. Misses’ Three-Quarter Coat. The three-quarter coat with box front and half fitted back Is a favorite of tbe season for young girls, ns well ns for their elders, and means genuine warmth ns well ns style. Tbe May Manton model illustrated combines many features, and Is Id every way up to dale. The high, flaring collar fits snugly at the throat and widens to rest against the head and makes a frame for the girlish face. The revers are sharply pointed In Dlrectolre style, and the back Is shaped after the latest Imported designs. The fronts are loose In box style and turn back to form the revers. Tbe back Is out wdth side-backs and a cen tre acam, which curves gracefully to the figure. The side seams are open to the top of the stitching and so pro vide additional ease and freedom. The collar is cut in four portions, high at the back and rounds off at the front. The sleeves are two-seamed and lit smoothly. Pockets, with laps, are In serted In each front and the coat Is ■ A THBEE-QUARTKK COAT. osfd with handsome buttons and I" 1 * lonholes in double-breasted fashion. To cut this coat for a miss of four teen years of age two and five-el** yards of material fifty-four Incht-' wide will be required. With the deaf mute actions alw*f f spealt louder‘than words.