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The sea coast echo. [volume] (Bay Saint Louis, Miss.) 1892-current, February 02, 1907, Image 2

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THE SEA COAST ECHO.
ECHO BUILDING
BAT ST. LOUIS. - - MISSISSIPPI.
CM AS. CL MOREAU, Editor and Proprietor
Long Dlstauoe Phone, No. 3.
Bubscrlptlen : f 1.50 Per Year, in Advance
.XVhen the world seems cold and dreary.
Just you say, "Skidaoo!”
Bay to Fate, when weak and weary,
- “Twenty-free £er you!” _ ,
—Puck,
Dodging Trouble.
“Have the Loafmans begun keep
ing house?”
“No; they’re living in a flat.’’— *
Cleveland Press.
- Medical Evidence.
Eme “But, papa, how ao yon
know that It was astork that brought
us the new baby?”
Papa—“ Because, my dear, I just
saw his bill!” —Woman’s Home Com
panion.
A Little Bit Off the Top.
“I notice that recent measure
ments show that Mount Whitney Is
twenty feet lower than it was sup
posed to be.”
“What a ead come down!” —Cleve-
land Plain Dealer.
In These Days.
Annette —“Shall I throw away
these stockings? They are woru out
at the top.”
Miss Flatiron —“Oh. my. no, An
nette! They’ll still do to wear —la
♦hq house.” —Town Topics.
- ■ ■
Teacher “A man bought three
pounds of meat for thirty-six cents, a
can of tomatoes for eight cents and
some potatoes for five cents. Now,
what does that make?”
Bright Scholar —"Soup.”
Took Several Degrees.
Hospital Visitor —“What’s zno
matter with that young man over
there in the farther bed?”
Hospital Doctor—“ Collision.”
Visitor —“Railroad wreck?”
Doctor —“No, goat. He’s joined
the lodge.”—Cincinnati Commercial-
Tribune.
It Depends.
“You know,” said Mrs. Jim Colll
fiower, "dat dar Is safety in num
bers.”
“Yes,” answered Mr. Erastus Pink
ley, “but a powerful heap depends on
what numbers you picks out-”-^
Washington Star.
A “Bubble” Reputation.
She “What is a financier,
Henry?”
He (with sad experience) “A
financier, my dear, is a man who can
maintain an automobile without
mortgaging every blessed thing he
has in the world.” —Boston News
Bureau.
Parental Anguish.
Washington had just announced
that he couldn’t tell a lie.
“Alas,” moaned his father, “with
such high morals you will grow up a
bank wrecker.”
Covering his face with his hands,
the strong man wept.—New York
Sun.
Now He is Thriving.
“You are looking well. Marker."
“Yes, the doctor started to diet me.
Told me to read a list of all the
dishes 1 could eat.”
“And you read it?”
“Yes, and then started eating ev
ery dish that was not on it.” —Chi-
cago News.
Woman’s Aim.
Ho —“I think a woman’s club, to
be successful should aim at some
thing far removed from female suf
frage.”
She —“I don’t agree with yon.
That should be its sole aim.”
He —“Yes, but if it aims at some
thing else it is more likely to hit
that.” —Philadelphia Public Ledger,
And He Was Back.
“I don’t see why you can’t be at
the head of your class,” said Tom
my’s mother. “Your teacher tells
me you’re pretty far back in school.”
“Well, say, mom!” exclaimed Tom
my, “there’s no pleasin’ you at all.
Didn’t you say last summer you’d
be delighted to have me ‘back in
school?’ ” Catholic Standard and
Times.
Not a Perfect Success.
Margaret—“ Hetty is happily mar
ried, is she not?”
Edith —“Oh, I suppose so, but she
says her husband has mistaken hlg
tailing.”
Margaret—“ Yes?”
Edith —“A man who can fell suck
wonderful stories as he does when
he has been out late at night ought,
she says, to have been a novelist.”***
Boston Transcript.
Sommer Tan.
“Pop!”
“Y T es, my son.”
“W’hat is a summer school?”
“Oh, a summer school is one which
is held outdoors in the summer
time.”
“I wouldn’t like that sort of 4
school, pop.”
“Why not, my boy?”
“I’d be afraid of getting tanned**
Statesman.
Vaß fifty fwn haro pase<3, um 4 yet—
Amid the city** noise and fret,
with wistful feelings of regret
X do remember still
The quiet farm I used to love,
XU sunlit fields so sweet to rove.
And, best of all. the days I drove
Its old ok-team to mill.
Ah, those were happy days, I ween!
And fresh and beautiful and green.
And ail toe long, long space between
Seems nothing to my heart;
Seems nothing now and fades away.
And, 10, a barefoot boy and gay.
And lord of all my eyes survey,
I mount that lumbering cart!
O-ho, how royally we go!
And how the cows look round and low,
As If to tell us that they know
The secret of our quest!
Out, out, along the Orchard lane,
Ahd up the hill at last, where, fain,
Spite Whip and goad, my stubborn twain
Would stop a while and rest.
—By Augustus Wight
m| A BROKEN IDOL. jee
I.
"Has the paymaster spoke yet?’*
One igrimy giant stoking the furnace
for the castings asked the question of
another. The other, a taciturn Scots
man, grunted out a curt reply in the
negative, and, opening the furnace
door with his pole, flooded the place
with light.
It was Friday night. The clock in
the front shop pointed to the quarter
before five. In another ten minutes or
ao the men engaged at the engineer
ing works of John H. Ransom & Cos.,
would be paid off for the week. The
money was already neatly done up in
little paper bags with the name of the
Irm on them, and stacked in little rows
In the office. Sandy MacTavish, hav
ing temporarily finished with the fur
nace, caught his “mate” in the act
>f getting into his coat. He looked at
him in silent fury and burst into
Scotch expletive.
“Ay, dinna work a minut ower lang.
A loon like you Inis a miohtle import
ant beesness outside the shop. It wants
tea minutes to the ’oor. If those bits
a’ piping are not staked —”
The boy fled from him in dismay.
The bits of piping measured six feet
In length and more, and ho was due to
play the cornet in a church band at
ix o’clook. He refused to touch the
piping, and Sandy swore at him more
lustily than before. Another man
walking through the casting shed
laughed as he listened to it all. It
was Sandy’s way of licking the boys
Into shape.
Ronald Leslie, foreman fitter at Ran
jom’s, came and stood beside the fur
nace, too.
“What’s the row, Sandy?” he said.
“Ronald, my lad,” said the old man,
‘it’s the old story; the young lads are
not w'orth their salt. It’s come in
late if you can, go away early, sleep
In the cupboard or ou the roof when
ever you think the old man’s back is
wmed. Is that the way to keep your
lob, I’d like to know?”
“Your job!” said Donald, with a
hrug. “What’s your job worth w'hen
p-ou’ve kept it? Thirty-eight shillings
L week won’t keep a man out of the
workhouse when he’s old. Your job!
The job that takes all your waking
lime, that gives you no leisure to think
that —"
“That dinna let you sit down and
ipend your days fiddlin’ wi’ a toy that
lias nae mair sense in it than my
>ole.”
Leslie did not speak. Instead, he
rtared into the heart of the furnace,
it may have been that he saw the
realization of his dream there.
“The Idea’s good.” he said, “and
If I could patent it —”
“And if you could get ony firm to
lak’ it up and work it for you. Ye
anna do It, Ronald Leslie. And why?
The thing’s been tried before, man.
You’ve got brains in your head. Ganna
you see that you’re throwin’ away
lime and money, and braking a wro
man’s heart?”
The clock had struck now'. The men
from the brass shop came clattering
iown the stairs. Sandy got himself
into his coat.
“It’s not only thirty-eight shillings
i week you’rde throwin’ away, Ronald,
mind you that.”
He went to claim his money, and
Ronald Leslie kicked at the scraps of
iron and steel that strewed the floor.
“Give it up?” he sold. “I can’t do it.
Fhe thing possesses me. I can’t give
It up. I must go on.”
He went out into the darkness of
the night and swung himself on to an
electric car which would take him
to his home in Walton, where most
af Ransom’s men lived.
Usually the time occupied by his
(ourney was given over to his inven
tion, but tonight anew thought chased
the other, “Breaking a woman's
heart?” What absurd nonsense! Why
Maggie was just as eager as himself.
There would be no need to stint the
housekeeping when his idea w T as taken
ap anjj every ship in Liverpool carried
Leslie s steering gear. Sandy MacTav
ish was an old fool who didn’t know
what he was talking about. Who would
win if no one ventured? How was
any one to get on sticking to the old
grind?
The car drew' up with a jerk. Ronald
walked up the street to his home —a
little house, one of a row of other Ut
ile houses, each the replica of the
other. Ronald Leslie let himself in
with his latch-key, and groped in the
gloom of the narrow, unlighted hall.
The Leslies’ house had a kitchen
and a front parlor. Both were usually
lighted up before the return of the
head of the family. Ronald stumbled
toward the kitchen in the dark. That
also was unlighted except for one sol
itary candle on the dresser. A woman
who hushed a fretful child in her
arms did not look up as her husband
came In. This, too, was unusual. Mag
gie Leslie always met her lad on the
threshold of his home.
"What’s the matter?” said Ronald.
“Why Isn't the gas lighted ?”
"We haven’t paid the rate,” said
Jdaggle in a dull voice. “They’ve cut
It off.”
To ds her justice, she tried hard to
keep reproach out of her voice. Ronald
was a good husband, and she was as
proud 6t his invention —the groat in-
M* t>LD OX-TEAM*
Sooth, Is it real, or 08 I <?reossT
Beneath the elm -trees now, U®,
Hitched clumsily with yoke ard betb,
Has reached the rumbling mm;
Where, after many a call and shout,
A flour-bedlsened form comes out
And backs my rig around about
And loads It to the fill.
And now, perched high on sacks of bran,
And feeling very much a man.
And businesslike, the road I scan.
Then take my whip and turn
Homeward —and slower than we came,
But not too slow, for still the same
Bright summer skies, with joy aflame.
Above us softly burn.
Yes, slow and sleepily we went.
And yet, hoW careless and content!
Oh. would those hours were still unspent.
And this loud, restless mart.
Which grows so wearisome and saa,
Were dream itself—and I the lad
I used to be, supremely glad,
Within that old ox-cart!
Bomberger, la Youth's Companion.
vention that was going to do such
wonders —as he was himself. But
when you’ve two children who want
shelter and food and fire, and when
you see money being spent on a life
less, Inanimate piece of steel and iron,
when your dress is worn beyond recog
nition, and when your jacket is too
shabby to go out, how can you help
saying “things” then?
“Perhaps you won’t mind getting
your own tea,”' said Maggie. “There’s
some bacon in the cupboard. It’s all
I’ve got.”
Ronald kicked off his boots, and pull
ed a chair to the fire and looked at the
boy asleep on his wife’s knee.
“What’s the matter with Laddie?” he
said.
“I don’t know,” said Maggie. “He’s
feverish. I’d take him to the doctor
if I could.”
They looked at each other. They
were young. They loved each other
dearly, but something had come be
tween them. It was the thing that oc
cupied the table in the front parlor,
and at which Ronald worked in all
his leisure. Ronald was going away
for the week-end to see some ship
owner in Glasgow' about his gear, if
he paid the water rate he wouldn’t
have enough for his journey, and for
the twelfth time ho told himself that
it was his great chance. Maggie plead
ed mutely with him, and pleaded in
vain,
“The shop is shut tomorrow,” he
said, “we’ve got a day off. I’m going
to Glasgow by the midnight train.”
11.
A woman fought the rebellion in
her heart. What was a man’s ambi
tion to her —of what use the fortune
that might come to them some day
when her child lay dying? Laddie was
worse. The doctor who had been has
tily summoned had declared it to be
pneumonia, and had said he had been
called in too late.
The boy panted on his pillow's, eased
only w'hen his mother carried him,
wrapped in blankets, up and down the
room. He w r as a dear burden; but he
was two years old, and Margaret I>es
lle was worn with watching and with
the incessant toil of her on household
work. She sank into a chair and her
eyes held defiance and rejection of an
accepted lot. Margaret was a good wo
man —rebellion did not come easily to
her; a prayer broke from her now.
“Help me not to hate him,” she mur
mured; “help me uot to blame him for
this!”
Ronald’s visit to Glasgow had been,
as usual, a futile effort. The ship
owner had accorded him a five minutes’
interview, and had told him that his
idea w'as no good. He had come home
raging against the . stupidity of men
with money. The grumble was an old
one. For once Margaret had met it
with indifference, almost with disdain.
This idea of his that he was a gen
ius with an inventon that wotild revo
lutionize the world of ships driven by
steam was the curse of their lives.
Ronald Leslie was no genius, merely
a level headed, plodding man who de
spised the only ladder that would en
able him to rise in the world —the
monotonous daily grind.
He came in from his work now and
stood at the door of the room, still
in his brown overalls, W'earing bis
fitter’s cap on his head.
“Better?” he asked. There was anx
iety in his voice.
“Worse,” she answered. “We can’t
keep him. My boy must go!”
Her eyes w'ere tearless; there would
be plenty of time to cry later. Leslie
came over to her and touched her
hand. She flung it off. Rising, she
faced him, holding the child agiinst
her heart,
“You don’t care!” she said. “What
are we to you, him and me, in com
parison with that thing downstairs?
It’s a devil, that thing; it’s turning a
good man into a brute. Oh. I don’t
want to say it. You have forgotten to
love me —your wife; you have let your
child die!”
Laddie stirred in her arms; she
carried him to the bed and laid him
there, watching the gray shadows creep
over his face. Sobs rent her. The
child, beloved by them both, had been
sacrificed to an idea. Leslie stared at
her like a man in a dream, and then,
as if he had no right there, he turned
and left them, creeping as- noiselessly
as he could down the stairs.
The street in which the Leslies lived
was badly lighted. No one saw
Ronald come out of his house stagger
ing under the burden in his arms. It
was heavy, the thing he carried,
weighted with the load of a man’s lost
years, an idol to which love and duty
had been sacrificed—the false god of
a man’s imagined genius—swept from
the pedestal at last. Ronald Leslie
walked slowly to the piece of waste
ground near the brick fields, where
the sound of his hammer would not be
heard.
He looked at it lying at his feet.
Where was the fortune it should have
brought? Where, even was the weekly
wage that he had earned for years
now? Buried there —that useless, si
lent toy, the model of the engine that
should have revolutionized the world,
representing ten of the best years of a
van's life.
f %m
tered. Ronald Leslie kicked the scrape
of brass out of his path.
“Lie there/' he said, “unburled ant
forgotten! Let me not think of the
lies you have whispered to me, of the
false promisee that have beckoned me
along a road I had no right to tread.
Only the fool never repents of hie fol
ly!
He stood a moment In the darkness
and light came to him. It was anew
and different Ronald Leslie who en
tered the house on his return.
He climbed the stairs again; the
light was still burning in the little
front room, a woman still knelt be
side the bed. It was all so still and
quiet that he hesitated, stricken with a
new fear. Had the Angel of Death
touched the door-post even while he
had been away? Entering, he lifted
his wife from the floor. His voice was
tender when he spoke.
“Margaret!” he said. “Meg! My
wife!”
It was the little tender name of their
courting days. Maggie’s arms stole
round his neck; he felt the tears on
her cheek as she pressed her face to
his.
“He is better,” she whispered. Her
voice broke in a sob. “He fell asleep
soon after you left, Ronald, forgive me
all I said.”
Dear human love —that Is a man’s
reward here for every lost hope and
dead ambition. Ronald Leslie com
forted the sobbing woman in his arms.
“I have smashed it,” he told her.
“Maggie, you will never see the thing
you hated so fierce and so well. I’ve
smashed it; it was no good. I’ve been
a fool!”
She looked up at him; he could see
that her regret was deeper than his
own.
“Oh, Ronald,” she said, “it was the
treasure of the world to you!”
He stooped and kissed her, she voice
“God has been good to me,” he said,
was tremulous when he spoke.
The treasure of the world is here!”—
London Answers.
QUAINT AND CURIOUS.
i
Pliny’s history may be regarded as
the first encyclopedia, since it con
tained 30,000 facts compiled from 2000
books by 100 authors.
Oliver Gridley, an lowa dairyman,
uses a gasoline engine, a milking ma
chine and lights the barn with elec
tricity. lie began with a few cows.
The reply to the question, “How to
tell a man from Chicago,” which was
awarded the prize by a New York
paper was, “You can’t tell him any
thing.”
New York has more fires in a year
than London and they entail greater
loss. It has less shipping as a port
than London, fewer clerks to the whole
population employed, but more bosses
or employers.
The Japanese drink tea that
has been standing oVer a minute. They
pour the boiling water on the leaves
and then pour off and drink the infu
sion immediately. Such tea is very
delicate and fragrant, and does not
affect the nerves.
Stephenson’s old “Invicta” locomo
tive, which seventy years ago used to
run between Canterbury and Whit
stable, was formally unveiled at Can
terbury' recently by Sir David Salo
m-ns, who presented this interesting
ra ay relic to the town council.
Only three men in the United States
surround themselves with bodyguards
wherever they go. They are: Theo
dore Roosevelt, president of the Unit
ed States, W'ho is afraid of nothing,
but yielded to public desire; John D.
Rockefeller, founder of the Standard
Oil company, who is afraid of kidnap
pers; Henry C. Frick, steel multi-mil
lionaire, whr is afraid of anarchists.
The Chinese are said to have found
a way to make the mussel produce
pearls to order. Five or six small
beads of mother of pearl strung on a
string are dropped at the proper sea
son in the open mouth of the mussel.
Two years later the mussel, when re
covered, is made to disgorge the heads,
now covered with a pearly crust in
distinguishable from the naturally
made pearl.
The origin of the red tie used by
the employes of the London and South
western railway lay in the idea that
in case of emergency it could be pull
ed off and waved as a danger signal,
and as a matter of fact, it has often
been used in this way notably at Sea
ton Junction, when an extress train
was saved from destruction by a rail
way man, who thus warned the driver
cf peril ahd&d.
Farm Labor in France.
An informal study of the farm labor
conditions in France was mad© re'
cently by Prof. G. C. Purinton of
Maine. Labor is so cheap, he says,
that some of the stone material for
road making is crushed by hand pow
er, and a man is employed for every
six miles of road to see that it is
kept in thorough repair. Dogs are
frequently used as beasts of burden,
and it was not an uncommon sight to
see a dog and goat harnessed together.
The farm laborers go to work earlier
in the morning and work in the even
ings, but in France between the hours
of ten and two laborers were scarcely
ever seen in the fields. The farming
class is very industrious, even the chil
dren being hard workers. Not a foot
of land is allowed to go to waste.
Tools and implements used are of an
antiquated character as a rule. A
great deal of the hard work is done by
the women. The workman’s dinner
usually consisted of coarse block
bread with a little sour wifie— Ame-ri
can Cultivator.
His Trouble.
“Your friend Lamb doesn’t look well
at ail. What’s the matter with him’
Dyspepsia?”
“Well, .you might call It ‘financial
dyspepsia.* I believe he ■went in lor
pork on Wall street and took too
much.” —Philadelphia Proa*
Robbng Society Women.
It is calculated that society women
at Newport and other fashionable sum
mer resorts in the East were robbed of
over |300,000 worth of jewels in the
season just coming to an end. Verj
few of them have been, like Mrs.
Stuyvesant Fish, fortunate enough to
recover their property. —Kansas City
Journal,
Stars and Stripes on a Hat.
Positively anew use has been found
for the American flag. A woman in
her travels by trolley the other day
had the pleasure of occupying the
same seat with a girl who wore a
marvelous hat. At first glance it look
ed like any other, but on close inspec
tion it was seen that the red and white
stripes about the brim and the blue
and white rosette in front were formed
by careful arrangement of the Stars
and Stripes.
Feathers and All.
New York women are seriously con
sidering the question, “Shall we use
feathers as table decorations?” Some
matrons declare feathers belong to
hats and are not intended for the ta
ble, because the schema is senseless
and worthless. They prefer to have
the floral adjunct to their meals. Ost
rich feathers were used at a banquet
given, in Paris in honor of Mr. and
Mrs. Longworth, and she became so
enthusiastic over the idea that, it is
said, she is planning to adopt it for
dinners this winter. In order to carry
out the feather scheme would not it
be a good idea to festoon the dining
room with feather boas and serve the
chicken with at least the pin feathers
in evidence? —New York Correspon
dence Pittsburg Dispatch.
Learn the Care of Children.
“My girls, whether they marry or
remain single, shall be taught how to
care for babies and little children.
Where is the common sense in teach
ing a girl everything but this most im
portant one? The chances are in favor
of her having the care of some child,
her own or not, as may be. My first
child was all but sacrificed to my con
scientious, struggling Ignorance. I
ought to have her spared all the suf
fering I endured because of my own
lack of preparations for the care ol
a little child. I would take every girl
I know and have her learn in some
practical w'ay how to feed, clothe and
care for a baby. This is a hundred
times more important than three meals
a day. I don’t know what we are
thinking of that we disregard this.
Motherhood under present conditions
cannot be left to instinct.” —A Mother
in Good Housekeeping.
The Age of Heroines.
Is there likely, one wonders, to be
any age limit fixed for heroines? They
are getting older and older. A con
temporary recently pointed out how
completely the girl heroine has van
ished. The innocent, trustful maiden
of the old novel only had to contend
with some designing rival or to over
come the prejudices of her own or her
lover's family.
Experience is needed for the “leading
lady” of up-to-date fiction. She must
he a past master in the art of fascina
tlon; we want to probe her soul. She
must have a good array of ‘scalps”
to show; she must be able to speak in
language which would ill become babes
and sucklings. So we are advancing
the age of this Interesting person. She
may even be the mother of grown-up
children; she might in some cases be
a grandmother in the ordinary way.
But ought w'e not to demand an age
limit? Else where will the novelist
stop?
The Fashion Outlook.
What are to be the leading models
for the winter is a question which in
terests all classes. Is the Empire
gown to lead in favor, or is the prln
cesse style to be the most popular?
What will be the length of the smart
est street coat? Will all skirts be long
or short, and will sleeves be elbow
length or once again will a reasonable
length, of sleeve be fashionable? All
of these points are of vital importance.
To begin with, Fashion has set the
seal of her approval upon the Empire
and Directoire styles; that must bo
conceded; but just here must there
be a note of warning sounded for the
benefit of the great majority, who are
so situated that they cannot command
the services of expert artists at dress
making. Amateur skill cannot expect
to turn out satisfactory imitations of
these most striking models. In truth.
It is far wiser not to attempt the eccen
tric and very marked fashions at any
time, but rather be content with what
is smart and becoming while inconspic
uous—From the Special Autumn Num
ber of Harper's Bazar.
Each to Her Taste in Coiffure,
It looks as though the admirable idea
of dressing one’s hair t,o suit one’s
fact, regardness of the prevailing mode,
Is gaining favor. Its advantage was
clearly shown at one of the theatrical
openings this week, at which the coif
fure of the women showed great va
riety. Some wore their hair elabo
rately dressed on the tops of their
heads with many little curls introduc
ed in the arrangement. Others had
simple coils low on their necks and the
front hair parted while coronet braids
and pompadours like bushel baskets,
were also in evidence. Every woman
present must have had a contented
mind that is if arrangement of tresses in
accord with the individual style of
loveliness produces that condition.
There seemed to be a decided prefer
ence for the tortoise shell coronet
comb among the ornaments. The
knobs on the top In many instances
wore almost ns large as birds’ eggs,
and so gave their wearer a top heavy
appearance, but as that was evidently
the effect they were striving for they
couldn't complain about it — New York
Press.
A Rea! Love Letter.
When I begin a letter to you, the
great difficulty is to leave off again.
Oh! how warm it makes one feel to
know there Is one person in the world
to whom one is everything! A lovef
is the most precious, the most mar
vellous possession. No wonder people
like having them! And 1 used t© think
that so silly. Heavens! What an ab
surd person I have been. Why, love
is the one thing worth having. Every
thing else —talents, interests, art, re
ligion, learning, the whole tremble
ment, are so many drugs with which
the starved, the loverless, try to drug
their pangs, to put themselves to sleep.
How strange and dreadful love is!
Till you know it. you are so sure the
world is very good and pleasant up in
those serene, frost-bitten regions
where you stand alone, breathing the
thin air of family affection, shone upon
gently by the mild and misty sun of
general esteem. Then comes love, and
pulls you down. For isn't it a descent?
Isn’t it? Somehow, though it is so
great a glory, it's a coming-down aa
well —down from the pride of absolute
independence of body and soul, down
from the high-mightiness of indiffer
ence. to something fierce, hot and con
suming.—From “Fraulein Schmidt and
Mr. Anstruther,” in The Delineator.
Things That Annoy the Sick.
Nothing is gained, and much time
that is very valuable is wasted, by ah
lowing ourselves to become nervous
and unable to be of the slightest use
in the sick-room.
Although we may consider a person
too ill to be aware of w’hat is taking
place about him, he is sometimes fully
cognizanf of the merest trifles, and al
ways more or less susceptible to any
and all things going on. For that rea
son, conversation about the condition
of the patient carried on in whispers,
or in any mysterious manner, should
be avoided, and an air of quiet cheer
fulness always maintained.
Nothing is so annoying as to be
continually asked If we do not wish the
pillows changed, the bedclothes
straightened, the blinds closed or open
ed, some nourishment brought, or any
small details attended to. Better by
far to see for one’s self and do quietly
without disturbing the patient. Par
ticularly if they are disposed to sleep,
do not at once get a newspaper of the
kind that has the greatest possible
amount of rattle in it, and seat your
self in a rocking chair regardless of
the possible effect it may have upon
the nervous condition of your friend.
When it Is time for nourishment or
medicine, be prompt to give it, but
always without talking over it too
much; and If it is the bitter cup that
is to be prescribed have something
agreeable to follow', and a cheery word.
If it is the food or broth, have it pre
pared outside the sick room and
brought quietly, and. above all, in an
attractive form, bearing in mind that
a little, daintily presented, will bo
much more acceptable and partaken of
with njore benefit than a larger quan
tity.—Ledger.
Fashion Notes.
Crab apple is one of the fashionable
reds.
One of the leading dressmakers of
Paris has condemned the bolero to ob
livion.
Pompadour ribbon continues to bo
used for girdles on the handsomest
gowns.
The tendency is to darker colors in
dress materials for street wear than
last season.
There is an effort again to establish
a vogue for colored shoetops to match
tailor-mades.
The fashionable sleeve for the tailor
made is below three-quarter depth,
but not quite to the wrist.
“Taupe,” which is one of the season’s
fashionable shades in both gowns and
millinery, is a soft, deep shade of gray.
In Paris, according to “Vogue,” lata
is sparingly used even on evening
models and seldom, if ever, on skirts
There is nothing superior to broad
cloth for shoving up the fine work oi
a good tailor, and it is now very fash
ionable. It shows up defects, too.
If your arm is the proper size yor
can follow the fashion of wearing yom
necklace about It. They are seen both
on the bare arm and over the evening
glove.
Avery cherrd red toque has a bunch
of drooping bright red velvet almonds
with the proper green leaves at Its left
side. It would be very effective against
dark hair.
Edges are to have a finish during the
winter to come. Fringes of heavy
chenille and silk and bands of ermine,
sable or chinchilla will finish skirts
and coats.
Belts are feature of a good many o{
the newest storm coats. The coat that
is thus made to fit the figure closely
on a very stormy day looks a little
more tiig than the long loose garment
whose folds are tossed about w'ith every
wind that blows.
Dancing at German Court.
The German Emperor insists upon
good dancing at court, and the arrang
ing of an evening party is one of hia
favorite pastimes. He is most anxious
that the court balls shall be distin
guished for their elegance, and exacts
that the smallest details shall be care
fully planned beforehand.
Each year, therefore he chooses,
either from his bodyguard or from the
First Regiment of cavalry of the
Guard, two brilliant cavaliers, who
are excused from all military duties.
These officers must dance to perfec
tion, wear fheir uniforms with distinc
tion! and lead a cotilion with method
and dash. Ttihy open the ball with a
princess of the blood royal and they
and their partners bring the function
to a close with a deep obeisance be
fore their Majesties. Upon their suc
cess In this exacting role their future
career largely depends, and it is said,
and may easily be imagined, that their
exalted office is no sinecure. —Tit-Bits.
The London General Postoffice re
cently successfully delivered a letter
addressed “Corner House, Two Stone
‘Dogs In Front”
PEARLS OF THOUGHT.
In the long run men hit only what
they aim at. —Thoreau.
He who allows oppression shares the
crime.—Erastus Darwin.
No pleasure Is comparable to the
standing upon the vantage ground of
truth.
Many men owe the grandeur of
their lives to their tremendous diffi
culties,—C. H. Spurgeon.
In every piece of honest work, how
ever irksome, laborious and common
place, we are fellow workers with God.
—-F. B. Meyer.
Great thoughts go best with common
duties. Whatever therefore may be
your office regard it as a fragment in
an Immeasurable ministry of love —
Brook Foss Westcott.
Remember, it is looking downward
that makes one dizzy. Look up, and
your brain clears, your heart grows
calm and strength comes to you for
every task and every emergency.
Hardness Is a want of minute at
tention to the feelings of others. It
does not proceed from malignity or
carelessness of inflicting pain, but
from a want of delicate perception of
those little things by which pleasure
Is conferred or pain excited. —Sydney
Smith.
The sublime of Nature does not
equal the sublime of Thought. A good
man is a truer image of spiritual
things than the loveliest landscape;
and the faithfulness of conscience,
the inviolable law in the soul, is more
worthy to picture the moral con
stancy of God than the orderly revo
lutions of the heavens.
He will certainly fail who hopes to
know men deeply and only to get hap
piness, never to get anxiety, distress,
disappointment, out of knowing them;
and he has mistaken the first idea of
human companionship who seeks com
panionships, friendships and contracts
with mankind directly and simply for
the pleasure they will give him. —
Phillips Brooks.
To win and hold a friend we are
compelled to keep ourselves at his
Ideal point, and in turn our love
makes on him the same appeal. Each
insists on his right in the other to an
ideal. All around the circle of our
best beloved it is this idealizing that
gives to love its beauty and its pain
and its mighty leverage on character.
—W. C. Gannett.
OLD-TIME VIRGINIA BREAKFAST.
How Madison Dispensed Hospitality
on His Plantation.
The long dining-table (at Montpelier)
was spread, and besides tea and coffee
w© had a variety of warm cake,
bread, cold meats and pastry. At table
I, Margaret Bayard Smith, was Intro
duced to William Madison, brother to
the President, and his wife, and three
or four other ladles and gentlemen, all
near relatives, all plain country peo
ple, but frank, kind, wmrm-heaxtsd
Virginians.
At this house I realized being in
Virginia. Mr. Madison, plain, friendly,
communicative and unceremonious as
any Virginia planter could be; Mrs.
Madison, uniting to all the elegance
and polish of fashion the unadulterat
ed simplicity, frankness, warmth and
friendliness of her native character
and native State.
Their mode of living, too, If it had
more elegance than is found am mg
the planters, was characterized by that
abundance, that hospitality and that
freedom we are taught to look for on
a Virginia plantation. We did not alt
long at this meal—th evening wa
warm and we were glad to leave the
table. The gentlemen went to the
piazza, the ladles, who all had chil
dren, to their chambers, and I sat
with Mrs. M. till bedtime talking of
Washington. When the servant ap
peared with candles to show me to my
room she Insisted on going upstairs
with me, assisted me to undress and
chatted until I got Into bed.
If I may say so, the maid was like the
mistress; she was very attentive all
the time I was there, seeming aa If
she could not do enough, and was very
talkative As her mistress left the
room, “You have a good mistress.
Nanny.” said I. "Yes,” answered the
affectionate creature with warmth,
“the best I believe In the world—l
am sure I would not change her for
any mistress in the whole country."
The next morning Nanny called me
to a late breakfast, brought me ice and
water (this is universal here, even In
taverns) and assisted me to dress. W©
sat dowm between fifteen and twenty
persons to breakfast —and to a most
excellent Virginian breakfast —tea,
coffee, hot wheat bread, light cakes,
a pone or corn loaf, cold ham, nice
hashes, chickens, etc.—Scribner’s Mag
azine.
His Point of View.
The notorious Nell Gwynn, paying a
visit one day to a friend, on returning
to her coach found her foot mao
bruised and bloody and covered with
mud. Asking an explanation, he told
her that a certain man had attacked
her moral character and he had at
tsiuptcd to punish the traducer, and
the punishment had not been entirely
one-sided. Mistress Nell laughingly
assured her champion that what the
other man had said was only the
truth. “I don’t care,” was the reply;
“I don’t care what you are, no man
shall tell me that I am footman to that
kind of a woman.” If this remark dis
closed an element of self-love. It also
strikingly illustrates a modified sur
vival of the spirit of brag which is
essential for the smootn running of
civilization. The footman’s attitude
typifies the one that should charac
terize all grades of service and sub
ordination. To the faithful servant
an attack on the master is an attack
on himself.—Wilbur Larremor© in the
Atlantic.
Deep.
Ascum—Did Crittlck say something
nice about your book?
Riter—l’m not sure, but I'm a llttla
suspicious.
Ascum —How do you mean?
Riter —Ho said there were “some
things In it that are decldedely orig
inal, and some other things that art
quite clever.” —Philadelphia Presa.

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