Newspaper Page Text
THE FREE PRESS.
ivh nue as GRANGEVILLE, IDAHO. to the THE CARDINALATE. Description of the Ofllce and Its Far Reaching Ecclesiastic Importance. In view of the Pope's selection of Archbishop Gibbons, of Baltimore, as S member of the College of Cardinals, the following facts about the Cardinal ato will be found interesting: The Col lege of Cardinals is the Senate and sov ereign council of the Pope in the government and administration of tho affairs of the Catholic Church in Rome and throughout the world, and is com posed of a number of distinguished ecclesiastics. The office and dignity of I a member of this body is termed the pin I Cardinalate. A Cardinal can not, un less invested with the Episcopal char acter, perform any act that depends for its validity up can he lawful! on such a character, nor ly invade the jurisdiction of s Bishop; but apart from this his rank in the church is always, every where and under all circumstances, superior to that of any Bishop, Arch bishop, Metropolitan, Primate or Patri arch. Although all Cardinals are ecjual among themselves in tho principal things, yet in many privilege, local ofli are distinctions or differences estab lished by law or custom, the most im portant of which follow from the divis ion of the Cardinals into three grades —namely, of Bishops, priests and dea cons. The membership of the sacred college is limited to the maximum of seventy. Tho number is seldom com plete. In olden times Cardinals were slrictly obliged to reside near the Pope. The greatest act that a Cardinal can perform is to take part in the Papal election. When a Cardinal is living a long distance from Rome the election has boon known to occur before he had time to reach the city. The color of a Cardinal' unless he belongs to a roligious order, In which case ho retains that of his habit, but uses the samo shape of dress as the others. The red hat and the beretta or red cap are tho most widely known .distinctions of the order. A good anecdote is told in connection with the red cap. Pope Gregory XVI. was a groat admirer of a certain Abbot in Rome, whose habit was white, and rumor ran that he would certainly be made a Cardinal. Some time before the next consistory the Pope, witli a considerable retinue, went to visit tho monastery of the learned monk. When trays of delicious pyramidal iced creams were brought in as refreshment the Pope deliberately took one of the white ones and handed it to the Abbott, and then took a red one for himself, one, of course, began eating until Greg ory had tasted first, and while all eyes were on him he took the top off his own iced cream and put it on the Abbot's, saying, with a smile, as he looked around him: "How well, gentlemen, the red caps the white." The Abbot was so elated at the subtle suggestion that he bought a Cardinal's outfit at once. When the news of the Abbot's precipitancy reached the Pope he was so displeased that he scratched the Ab bot's name from the list. One of the ornaments of a Cardinal is a gold ring set with a sapphire, and engraved on the metal surface of tho in side with the arms of the Pope who has created him. The Pope himself places it upon the Cardinal's finger, actual value of the ring is only $25, but for many centuries the ncwlv elect ed Cardinal has been expected to give a large sum of money for some pious f iurpose. For a long time the sum was arger than at present, and was paid in gold, but in consideration of the gen eral distress in the early part of this century tho amount was reduced to about $750. The last Cardinal who gave the full sum before the reduction was Della Somalgia, in 1705. The Roman ceremonial shows tho singular importance of the Cardinalato by the disposition ordered to bo made of its members after death. It iS pro scribed that when life has departed a veil shall be thrown over the face and that the body, dressed in chasuble, if B shop or priest, shall lie in state. The hat used in his creation must be de posited at his feet, and after his funeral be suspended over his tomb. His body must be laid in cypress-wood coffin in tho presence of a notary and his official family, a member of which lays at his feet a little scroll of parchment, on which have been written a very brief account of tho more important events of his life. Then the first coffin is in closed in another of lead and tho two together in a third one of some kind of hard wood, each coffin having been sealed with the seal of the dead Cardinal and of the living notary. Before the occupation of Rome by the Italian Government the obsequies were very solemn and impressive. The body was borne by night with funeral pomp of carriages and torches and long ar ray of chanting friars to the church of requiem, where it remained until the day appointed for the mass, at which Cardinals and the Pope were present, the latter giving the final absolution.— Baltimore Sun. points of costume, ice and rank there If s dress is red. a No The . MISCELLANEOUS. —Scorpions, spiders and various in sects have been observed to lie motion less if a person blows upon them in a vertical direction.— Chicago Herald.\ —James Hooper, of Lafay hearing that there was hidden treasure in the ground near a tree on his farm, fell to digging about the spot and at last unearthed an old iron pot contain ing three thousand dollars in gold coin and fifteen hundred dollars in silver.— Atlanta Constitution. —At a dinner given by Rogers, Feet At Company to their employes in the Metropolitan Hotel, Frank R. Cham bers, one of the partners, announced that the firm had determined to set aaide a certain proportion of the profits annually to be paid in dividends to the persons in the employ of the house, in addition to their present salaries.— N. T. Pest ett«, vru., A FAIR EXCHANGE. ivh v S Detroit Tey-Peyer Preferred a Whet.toae to a Patent Door-Spring. it on of a a He slid quietly into a Jefferson ave nue hardware store yesterday forenoon, unrolled a paper on the counter, and as he held up a patent door-spring he •aid: "I buy him two days ago, und I like to exchange him for a wheatstone." "What's the matter?" "Vhell, I can't make him fit on my screen door." "Why, that's the easiest thing In the world. See here: This end screws on the door, and that end on the easing." "I tried him dot vhay, und he doan' work." "When it is on you take this metal See the holus pin and turn the spring, there?" "I does dot vhay, und my screen doors flies opon." "You turned the wrong way. "I turns him eafery way. times der door vhas wide open, und all dor flies in Michigan go in, und some times ho vash shut oop so tight I can t get in my own house. 1 begin on him in der morning, und I doan'leave off till night, but he won't work right." "That's curious. What tools did you have?" "I use a hammer und screw-drifer und eold-shisel und saw und augerund crow-bar und lots of more, but he doan* spring for mo. My wifo.works at him, too, und my hired man he lose half a day, und I Vash discouraged. I guess I trade him for a wheatstone." "Well, I'll exchango with you. but I'm sure I can show you how to adjust it" »» Sorao "I guess I doan' try any more. You see, my life vhas short, und I can't ,8paro so mooch time mit machine ry. If I get a wheatstone I doan' haf to screw him on nor turn him around. Dere vhas no pins or ratchets in his stomach. He vhas all right both ends oop. Maype he doan' keep oudt flies, but ho makes no troubles for me." The exchange was made, and the man went away light-hearted, calling back from tho door: "I can make oudt a wheatstono all right; und I vhas obliged mit you. A wheatstone winds oop only one vhay." —Detroit Free Frees. SWEEPING DAY. How It Can Re Robbed of Some of Its Most Disagreeable Features. If you look at your house-work as tho means to a delightful home, it will not seem hard or hateful; even the dreaded sweeping day, whioh I own to liking worse than wash day, loads to the repose of fresh, fr^rant rooms, and a sanctity from dust and deface ment. It need not be quite so much a penance if you have proper aids. (These are covers of glazed cambric for large furniture, carpet sweeper, brushes, patience, care, etc.) If you sweep with a broom, use damp' tea leaYes, bran, coarse meal, saw-dust or dry snow, to keep down the dust, remembering to have these things damp, not wet; to sprinkle only a yard or two where you mean to sweep at once, and to take it up with the sweepings before you go the next place. Brushing a damp mass of dust and trash over a whole carpet is not the way Fine carpets like Wi should be swept with the pile to keep them from wearing; and dealer* say that Brussels should be swept only one way. It is a good rule always to begin at the corner farthest from tho door, taking up tho dust every yard or two. Take tugs up, bringing opposite sides together, not to spill the dust; lay them face down on green sward, or hang them so out of windows, and beat the backs till all the dust is out. Beating on tho face sends the dust into the firm woven ground of the rug*.— Baptist Weekly. j ! j For Smarty, the juvenile, had read in the chronicles how a man had onoo j propounded that query to an auctioneer who stood in tho market place, and on his replying; "Yea, verily." he said; | "Then I bid you good night" As the ox goeth to the slaughter, so j marehed Smarty up to the very front ' of the auctioneer. Will you allow me to make a bid?" : Up spake the auctioneer, who was fly with regard to tho ways of tho un godly: "No, I will not. from children and fools." to to improve it. ilton or Mo quette AT THE AUCTION. Veracious Account of a Meeting Between Smarty and tha Auctioneer. And it came to pass after the going down of tho sun that young Smarty was passing the mart where a certain man cried out in a loud voice; "Two am I bffered; do I hoar two and a half?" "Aha!" cried young Smarty, turning to the companions who attended him. "behold! the auctioneer. Let us enter in, and mark howl will paralyze him." So entered they in. And still tho voice of the auctioneer was lifted up: "And a haf'n a haf'n s haf'n a ha'f. Anybody say three-quarters?" Three-quartexs said they not. "Prythee, sir," said young Smarty, "will you allow me to make a bid?" I never take bids I Then the people laughod Smarty to ; acorn and ho slunk away, sorrowing. — | Texas Siftings. j J ! ! A Juvenil* Tilt. First Boy—My pa blows a horn in | the band. Second Boy—That ain't nothin'. F. B.—Mischief it ain't; mo'an your your ole pa can do. My pa goes to parties an' picnics an' your ole pa can'l go there. S. B.—Ye*, an' mv pa is in the peni tentiary an' your ole pa can't go there, either.— Arkansaw Traveler. —The writer of tho new song, "1 Love You, Darling, in My Dreams,' should not forget that dreams go by contraries. Little mistakes like thi sometimes produce a discord.— Wash ington Critic. —The Queen Regent of Spain wi! maintain and educate at her privat) expense the children of those who per ished in the recent tornado at Madrid I MASCULINE MEDDLERS. In this not Why a Snappish Woman Carried n Flake of Soot on Her Cheek. In one of the parlor cars on a west bound Northwestern train sat a woman who was not as young as she had been and whose temper was, apparently, not as sunny as it might be. For she scowled and looked sour and tried to read a bit and slammed the book down and banged the window up and then banged it down again when she found the wind played hob with the carefully trained bangs on her forehead. Taking it all around she was in a fine state of mind, and there was s big piece of soot on her cheek of whose presence she did not seem to be aware, but which was observed and commented on by all of the passengers. Soon a traveling man came out of the smoking-room, took a look at the state of things and accosted her in so low a tone that his fellow-passengers were bitterly disappointed in not being able to hear his remarks or the reply thereto. The reply, however, was ap parently very short and quite conclu sive, for the traveling man retired about as quick as he knew how and with something on his lace which re sembled a blush remarkably close, con sidering that he was a traveling man. Presently an oldish gentleman—not too old to snooze in public when it is warm, but yet old enough to be labor ing under the delusion that he is yet something of a lady-killer—presently an oldish man of this sort woke out of a nap, looked about the car to see if there was anybody he could scrape an acquaintance with, spied the soured and spluttering female, and immedi ately began arranging his necktie and mopping off his face. Then he hap pened to notice the piece of soot, and, as he left his seat and approached the woman, the passengers all watched him expectantly. "I beg pardon, miss," he began with a smile meant to be charming, "but did •you know there was a flake of soot on your face?" "Yes, I did," was the reply, snapped out like the cracker on an old whip. This rather staggered the old party, but he partially recovered himself and remarked: "B-but don't you want to wipe it off?" "No, I don't," the snapper-like jawi rattled out again, as the passengers tittered. "And may I ask why you wish to car ry that soot on your face, madam?" "Because you are the fourth med dling old foof there since I left Chicago, and I want to keep it on long enough to find out how many more there are of you."— Chicago Herald. a who has told me it was QUAINT OLD LUBECK. A Visit to th* Market-Flare of the Once Famous Hanseatic City. The market place is a large quad rangle, entered only by narrow pas sageways at the corners, and through the colonnade under the Rathhaus. The scene in this enclosure is, every morning of the week, a very charac teristic and lively one. The pavemeni is covered with farm produce and mer chandise of all descriptions. Robust peasant women sell the freshest ol vegetables and the most delicious dairy produce; fish women, ranged in rows, each with lier feet and petticoat hem tucked away in a box to keep the draughts off, attract by their vigorous cries, customers to select from their stock of live fish swimming about in trays; carts are crowded together in one corner, piled full of great loaves ol bread; pigs squeal and fowls clatter iu pyramids of cages; tables creak with a burden of quivering cheeses that thicken the surrounding air; it is a Babel of sights and sounds and odors, which the multitude appear to enjoy and thrive upon, while the stranger, if at all fastidious, holds his ears and his nose, or takes a speedy flight. At noon time the shadows of the house gable* fall upon a clean swept pave ment, with only a couple of fruit booths to remind one of the tumult of the early morning. This is the hour to sit on the well-worn bench under some overhanging story, and imagine the scene when merchants of every im portant town, from Novgorod to Ber gen, from Wisby to London, sought this their commercial capital, in the days before the discovery of the New World, with its immeasurable re sources, gave a new direction to trade, and made the greatest commercial partnership in history no longer a j necessity. A Lutheran priest in long ! black robe and high ruff hurrying j through the colonnade, completes the illusion of the past induced by this j unique picture of its grandeur. Two little children in latest Paris fashion trip along with their nurse, and the | spell is broken.— Christian at IKorfc. -♦ j A Paying Enterprise, ' : whose offle* rent is $2,500 a year, every penny of which is paid by I know a rich man in New York another man who for the expenditure I contents himself with a desk room in a far-away corner. The name of having ; an office with the millionaire, the rep | utation of hobnobbing the day through j with a magnate—that is what he gives J his money for. Silly? No; it pays. Two years he went into the scheme ! as a sheer speculation. He hadn't $100 ! then; now he can draw his check for $100,000. He has been trading on the prestige of his office friend, and, credited with a good many secrets and lots of information that he doesn't possess, he coins money out of the crowd, who try to "work" himin seek ing inklings of the millionaire's stock market plans. There are enterprises and enterprises in this world.— N. Ï. Times. | I —According to the Kievlanen, it Pereislavl there lately died a Jew. named Sribnyi, aged one hundred seventeen, who up to his last rcmainci hale and sound, possessed an acub memory and a sane intellect, and evet a few months before his end, content plated marrying a ninth time. His eld est son was only eighty-two year* old but looked much aides am A STRANGE STORY. Is Beralnlsoencea Suggosted by n Poke-Stalk Growing on n Grave. Strolling about town to-day I found myself at the gate of the Gallatin Cemetery. At the suggestion of s friend who was with me we entered In meandering around my friend pointed out the grave of Charles Lewis, better known as "Pete" Lewis. Said he: "At the head of this grave comes up every year a large poke stalk." Thinking there was nothing strange that such a thing should happen, I remarked "Well, what of it?" "Now," said he, "I am not superstitious, but this is a rather s remarkable coincidence, as vou will learn when I tell you that Mr. Lewis once killed a man about a poke stalk." Continuing his story, he said: "In 1844, now forty-two years ago, during the great political canvass be tween the Whig and Democratic parties, Isaac Goodall, of Smith County, came to Gallatin and was the of Mr. guest and intimate friend Lewis. During the day Lewis and ioodall were playing the violin to gether (both were good performers) and indulging freely in drinks. In the evening they were downtown, and were returning arm in arm singing one of their favorite songs. Coming up the street to tho hotel kept by Lewis they found on the street an ox wagon loaded with crockery ware, with a large poke stalk standing in the wagon. Lewis was a Democrat, and the poke stalk being emblematic of his faith in the Democratic party, championed then by James K. Polk. Mr. Lewis invited the owner of the wagon to take a drink to the success of the Democratic party. Goodall was a strong Whig, and' remarked that if the driver left liis wagon he would drive the oxen away, at the same time pick ing up a stone. Mr. Lewis was in censed at the conduct of his friend, and- said: 'Goodall. if you do I will shoot you,' at the same moment draw ing a pistol. Goodall immediately dropped the stone and asked Lewis what he had in his hand, and before replying Lewis fired tho shot, killing Goodall almost instantly. Goodall, as lie fell, said: 'Oh! Pete, what made you do that?* "Lewis, without losing a moment, ran into the house and up to the garret. Great excitement followed, the news spread rapidly and tho street was thronged with friends of both parties. The sheriff summoned twenty men to assist in arresting Lewis. Mrs. I came to the sheriff and told him that Lewis was in the garret intoxicated and heavily armed, and that it would be death to any man to mount the ladder leading to the hiding place of her hus band, but if he (the sheriff) would wait till he (Lewis) sobered she would bring him down. After dark, the time appointed for her to carry out the pur pose of the sheriff, she piloted the sher iff and his deputies up the stair-case where the ladder was standing. Hers she requested the gentlemen to step into a room while she ascended the ladder. Once in the room she made them prisoners by locking them in, and hastening Mr. Lewis dowb the ladder, down the stairway and out through the hackway and into the garden, he was free. Every light in the house was put out., according to the plans of Mrs. Lewis. Just as the alarm was given that Lewis was out, a negro named Bob, belonging to Mrs. Lewi- fired a pistol, and, callingout, "Here he goes," ran in an opposite direction to that taken by Mr. Lewis, thus throwing the guards off his track. Escaping that night on a magnificent horse, procured from Esquire Thomas G. Moss, which was hitched in the back garden for that purpose, he went to Louisiana, and from there to Cuba. "Detectives were employed to work up the case, and two were employed to shadow Mrs. Lewis, who it was thought would join her husband, but the woman's ingenuity was too much for them. She would leave for a visit to Louisville, Nashville or Cincinnati, and a detective would follow. She thus threw them off their guard, visited her husband in Louisiana, and from there went to Cuba. Tired of exile, after ten years' wandering, Lewis returned and gave himself up to the sheriff', was arraigned, tried anti acquitted by the courts. "Mr. Lewis lived here until after the war, making a good and useful citizen. He died and was buried in his own gar den where, I am told, a poke-stalk came up every year at the head of his grave. A few years ago his remain* were transferred to their present loca tion, and, as I was told, the poke-stalk still comes up annually. His wife, Mrs. Mary Lewis (Aunt tolly), lies bv his side, a heroic, true, devoted woman. During her life she never faltered in her love and devotion to her husband in his troubles. It would be a waste of words to offer a tribute to the constancy ami devotion of Mrs. Lewis, not only to her husband, but to any one who could claim her a friend. She died about two years ago at the resi dence of her nephew, Dr. W. R. Tomkins, at the age of seventy-eight years."— Gallatin Cor. Xashville Ban ner. j6W18 a He a Things You Should Never Do. Venture upon the threshold of wrong. Spend your money before you get it. Trouble others for what you can do yourself. Indulge in idleness, loquacity or flip pant jesting. Imagine that your troubles are the greatest in the world. Fail to keep in mind that there is no magic like sweet, cheery words. Be blind to the shortcomings of a ft ipnd or the virtues of an enemy. Make it a rule to do the smallest amount of work for the pay you get.— Good Housekeeping. — John Most, the Anarchist, on en tering the mense bloni barber. deformity of his face was exposed. The left side of his lower jaw is caved in, and most of his chin is gone— caused, as he says, by being kicked by a mule.— Troy Times. penitentiary, had his ira te beard removed by the Thus shaven and shorn the STYLES IN RINGS. n hi binatlnns Recently latro* Singular C duced by Lovers of Genuin* Jewelry. The smart finger ornament just now Is composed of three rings, each con taining three or more stones set in the same manner, but differing in k-ind. The most elegant specimens are plain gold bands set with five gems apiece ; the first containing rubies, the second diamonds and the third sapphires. Each ring is a fac-simile of the others in mounting and in the size of the getns It is generally supposed that the rings are joined, but they are entirely sepa rate, although never worn singly. A singular combination is shown in a band of emeralds, one of pearls and one sapphires, the ring containing the emeralds being worn in the center. The oddity of this is its chief charm, for the greatest beauty is noticeable in combinations of gems which are of the same order and do not contrast so de cidedly as do the pearls and emeralds. A band of lapislazuli, one of white pearls and one of pink pearls form an artistic combination. The gems are not embedded in the settings as was formerly the fashion, and for this reason they emit greater brilliancy. A diamond or sapphire ring (when only one is given) isfancied for a betrothal, as the sapphire is be lieved to have power to drive away all demons and protect the beloved one from magic and poison. Old seal rings, with the family crest engraved thereon, are attached to the end of the short watch chain, and so become a procla mation, even when one is gloved, of the possession of a grandfather who sealed his letters with something more aristocratic than a thimble. The fanci fully carved gold ring are seldom seen —indeed, it is about concluded that they were forgotten during the craze for gems. Tne saving up of one's gold and sil ver to obtain one really beautiful and real jewel is much more commendable than the buying of imitation pins, bracelets and brooches that are. appar ently, gold to-day but very evidently a base metal to-morrow.— Butterick's De lineator. of t - PAINTED DRESSES. Straits to Which Artlata Are Reduced by the Exigencies of Trade. Art and fashion are involved with each other now as never before. Not only do the designers of elaborate toil ets reasonably claim to exercise artistic taste, for much originality and beauty are often put into the work, butgenuine painters are employed to decorate dresses. Usage in the most pretentious New York circles authorize the wear ing of exceedingly fine gowns at din ners, and the apparel at the best balls hardly shows such unique garments as are seen in dining-rooms on occasions of fashionable eating and drinking. The aim is to wear something unlike anybody else's garb, and to effect this the silk or satin of a dress is often painted by hand in water color or oil. An artist acquaintance of mine, whose works on canvas have frequently been good enough to bo admitted to the Academy of Design, was bemoaning the fact that American buyers prefer foreign to native pictures, irrespective of merits. "When a man has to go to painting live women instead of bis own creations," he bitterly growled, think it is time for him to throw down the brush and take up a shovel." He explained that he had taken sev eral commissions to decorate women's dresses as a means of subsistence, and that he was retained by a leading dressmaker for that sort of work. But be declared that he would never again do what he had done in one instance, which was to use his brush on fabric that at the time inclosed the owner. The belle had insisted that the figures painted on the waist of her dress, though they looked well in themselves, were not shaded so as to be effective when she had it on. Therefore, she wished the artist to come to her bouse and touch up his work while it was on her person. That he regarded as hu miliating. He could paint a gown in his studio, but professional pride for bade him to apply his brush to the per sons of the patron.— N. Y. Cor. Phila delphia Press. "I BRICK PAVEMENTS. Said to Bo the Best and Moot Durable In the World. A reporter called on Rev. Dr. Ryan to learn from him the relative value of wood and brick pavements, Dr. Ryan being well qualified to speak on the subject. Dr. Ryan said: "I have had considerable experience in pavements, having traveled over the worst and best in the world, including the Appian way." "What is the best pavement you have found?" "Brick. There is nothing equal to it, and it will be the pavement of the future. The road it makes is as smooth as a floor, and it holds just enough debris to make it noiseless." "Is it durable?" "Yes, indeed. I formerly lived at Charleston, W. Va. Fourteen years ago they laid the first brick pavement, and twelve years after it seemed to me to be in as perfect condition as when first laid. Tires do not break or crack it, as they roll aJong as if on a floor." "How does it cost in comparison to wood?" "I can not tell, but is cheaper when wear is taken into consideration. Wooden pavements ar* only an expe dient, having to be constantly repaired. Then cedar blocks will not last for ever. There will have to be a change •oon." "What kind of brick is used?" "Either common red brick or fire brick. At Wheeling fire brick is used, and, by the way, are patented. They are wider at the bottom than at the top, thus permitting sand to work into the interstices." "How are they laid?" "With the edges up, on a bed of sand, below which is a framework oi timbers. There is a fortune for the man who introduces brick pavements into this city, and 1 will show him how to lay litem myself. There is no use talking, brick is to be th* pavement oi th* futur* ."— Detroit Tribum. Willing to Arbitrate with Babaarlben. W# Intimated tome few week* ago that the ▼ague fear *ai growing on us that our sub scribers were on a strike Subséquent events have gone to confirm the suspicion O11I7 one or two have reported at the office for duty during the Inst month or so. If they are standing out, as we firmly believe, w« wish it understood right here that we are willin? to arbitrate. Even without that w# will concede eight hours a day—if th*»y will labor fai h u Iv at paying their sul scriotlons for e ght hours each day th y can pat on lb> ir coats and go home We wish they n ou'd apnoint a commit ee to come in and ea «boat it anyway. We will me?t them half way and take them by the hand; capi tal and labor should be allies, not enemies. We thought we detected avmp'oms of a boy co to: ce when a man who had taken the pnrer 'or some time refus'd to remove it from the pos offi'-e, but happily this danger hi s boon averted.—Estelline (D. T ) BelL A LEAF FROM A BRIDE'S DIARY. Sh« Attempt« the Construction of % Lemon Tie. May 99 —George and I were married yes Vrtlny quietlv by a jusiice of the the peace. W • did not have dear pipa's consent, nor much of anything e'se. I never saw a jus t ce of the peacs before. He was a tallish man, wi h an iron-gray shirt and a sunset no e. I did not like his anpearanco, but he - earned to understood his business fairly eel. and so I ou ht not to murmur or re. fine. Ktill he was not a man that I would want to cling to. He looked to me like a who won! 1 snort arrund the cemetery man rnd tear up the greensward when taia wife died in the enrlv spring, and friend- would have to cha n him to a tree somewhere till his grief had snent itself, an i then in the early fal 1 he would lower the top of his old conorrtina plug hat, and marry a red-eved wi low with a baritone voice and two sons In t' e peid enliary. If en o m had noticed me two veae* ago, wh le I was reading "Cau le EnrKomirt's Revenge," th it so soon I would be married in a dark musty justice of the ponce's office, in the presence of a drunk and d sorderly, bv a mnirUtrate with a Titian nose and a breath that woul l cat a ho e through a tin roof, and that nfter the ceremony George and I w< uid « at a chei se. sandwich at the station. I cou' 1 not, oh I I could not have be 1 eved it. To-day I am a wife with my joyous girl hood, mv happy home and the jn-tice of the peace behind me. I-ife ia now r*ai, fffe is oar est, for we have no cirL We will not keep a girl at first. G-org> aavs, for if w* (lid she would have to hoard at home, as ne have onlv one room, and it ia not a very We take our meals at % l?oml room either, restaurant, and the bill o' fare is very good. Yesterday evening I wearied of tho pie at the restaurant, and G. orve is pasrinnate'y fond of pie. too; so 1 told him I would bake a pie for him with mv own fair hands. I had never ma le a pie befor' all by my own «elf. l ut I wanted, oh, so much to make *om* kind of a dish that would delight my dear, i rand-new husband. So this morning, when George hied him away to his bus ness. I went down sta rs, and asked, as a slight lavor, that the lady who runs the house would loan me her apron, her cooking stove, • pie plate, two lemons, a cup of sugar, some milk, etc., etc., as I desired to delight my new frund husband with a lemon pie on his return. All last night I feared that in my sleep I might allude to the prospective pie, and thus give myself away, as one of our best writers puts it; but I do not think I did. So this morning, when George had gone, I built such a dear, little, cunning pie with I mons and everything that they put into a lemon pie. Mrs. Pease, who owns the house, told me where everything was, and then I went to work. 1 mad'* a very pretty little pie and flu ed the e lges till it looked as at tractive ns an old-lt,shioned pantalette. My heart bounded high as I thought what dear O orge woul 1 ny and how his eye would light up when ho came home and saw It on the dres ing case. Joyfully I put the stuffing Into the pie and (• closed it. Then I put some real cute little dats across it diar please the eye as well as the pampe ed taste ef my own true love, tor he is a man with the most delicate taste, and when he Is dressed for the day he always looks as though he was about to have his picture taken. I got th-pie all rrady and put it in the But after I had done so it occurred ally so tliat it would ov. n. to mo th It I had not put any I aking powder in it. so I took it out and removed the lat t ice work I rom the still features of t ie pie. Then I t ut .n qui e a lot of soda or baking [owder that 1 secured f ora the upper '.rawer in :1k* pantry. I then Reated myself ni tliO oa ornent, an t while tue pie wai bak lns, I sang a low refrain, meantime nimbly constructing a f *w yard* of rick rack of Ah. cil I nm passionately fond. While thus engaged the oven door was it.own off the hinges and the air was filled with a subtle odor of some kind which I rouid not describe. We pulled the pie off the ceiling of oi oi . - \ TÆ an i\ i â h -Æ r iU m ■ r/i m II X. ip. ✓ We pulled the pie off the ceiling. And tha carpenter has been at work on th* woodwork of the house for an hour or so trying *o make it look natural agi it. Mrs. IYase says site don't know what I put into the pie, w hether tho baking powder was a lit tle remnant of percussion that her husband left when he die I, or a discarded seidlits powder, but that I never can lie too thankful that it blew up before George Inserted it into his true inwardness. Tomorrow I may try again, and I want to cook a few of these eci u colored doughnut* with apertures in th* centre if I cnn. I want to do everything to help George to acquire wealth.—Bill Nye in B< ston Globe. Why Farmers Smiled. A preacher in a neighboring town preached a series of twenty sermons on the "Prodigal Son." Ho finally reached the place where the fat calf was killed. "O, my friends," said he, "that was a wonderful calf. If ever a calf was fat and sl*ek and well cared for, that calf waa Why the dear old futlter had been fattening It for years." His audience was composed mostly of farmers who knew that a calf could not be kept many years without outgrowing it* calfhood, to they might be excused for smiling—Danville Bresse.