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j BT MBB. NAPOLEON B. MORANLS. Bow strange they »onnd in the quiet nicht— The foot «Up« that ptll to left or right Borne make • rhythmic and joyous beat A« they gladden the ellent qtty street - ' Others more slow, with a ES'emn tread As though they followed t!<Jr dearest dead : Bona are so faint it would t%jm the grave Was beckoning them from the busy pave. These scares awaken an echo there But passJHke ghosts through the great thor There are eager feet ; feet which hesitate : And feet that lag with a tottering gait - Tber e are gliding feet, with the dance in their There are restless feet, with no hope of repose • And vague, uncertain, wavering feet 1 That pause, confused, in the midnight street Thera am steps wh'ch tend to a happy home • There am steps that night and day must roam • Footsteps a mother has waited long ; There la prophecy in these shifting feet That quicken the silent city street. 1 sit in the shadows and hear them go On their di\ e.-se missions to and fro : Some on an errand of mercy sent : Borne to the bedside of pain are bent : Some hasten on to the darkest deeds - Borne go to comfort a heart that bleeds • Some to the river are drawing nigh I— These footsteps may never again pass by. Nbw York City. 1 h Thrilling Romance oj Land and Sea. BY ARRAH LEIGH. 1 w CHAPTER XX. mademoiselle's visit. ITHOUT doubt jealousy adds to ! love, and Olga i t a r e d at the ^handsome blonde (man stunding be side the fragile girl sitting on the step of the little sunnier house till it seemed to her she conld not yield him to an other. Yet what right bad she • to speak to Kenneth about his love? She was Griffith's be trothed wife. She wrung her hands as she thought of it. Why had she been so weak as to listen to his wooing? Why had she not been true to herself ? She stood there in the midst of a crowd, And her heart cried out in loneliness. She would have given half her life to be free, but she had hound herself. She felt, as a reward for her folly, she was to see this fair-haired man, for whom she had each a strange reverence, bend over the girl she had jnst seen beside him, Chris' husband. She asked herself why she cared?— what it mattered to her?—and conld not answer. She eonld not bear to think of Kenneth op there alone with Chris. Yet she would not have interrupted their interview for the world. She sat on the rustic seat in the garden, surrounded by her sisters and friends; her lover was beside her, but she seemed only to see Kenneth ana Chris. " Surely they had met before they came here," she thought, and she half turned to question Griffith about what he knew of Chris' past, but pride silenced her. And presently Kenneth and Chris came down to her, and Chris said: "Olga, Mr. Byrne says dog roses look pretty in fair hair; may I put some in yours, as he has done in mine?" She bent, with the blossoms in her hand, over Olga's golden tresses, but with a little passionate gesture Olga dashed her hands away, and cried: "No; I hale dog roses." Kenneth smiled as he mattered: " So, my love, yon are jealous? Well, Griffith's falsity must soon be discovered, and then I can claim you for my own darling Olga." Perhaps he would not have felt so con tented if he conld have seen the girl tossing on her pillow that night, as she sobbed: "I am so miserable I wish I conld die!" While little Chris smiled as she lay awake dreaming of that man who had that afternoon looked so kindly on her. He at that moment was enjoying a champagne supper at the village hotel with Griffith and a few boon companions. "Let's drink to Griffs sweetheart," cried one of the gentlemen. * And afterward to her intimate friend the ex-ballet girl," said another, with a sneer. "Hush!" laughed Griffith. "You will have Ken after you if yon speak a word against Chris. She is his sweetheart." "How dare you!" angrily exclaimed Kenneth. ' Neither her name nor Olga's should be mentioned here." 'Pshaw! a ballet girl is not a lady," said one of the men, who had been drink ing heavily. " Bat Ken feels bound to protect this one as she followed him out in the mining regions," langhed Griffith. Kenneth frowned. " If this conversation is not stopped at qnce I will knock the man down who next speaks against her," he cried. Apu there was silence, for men knew Kenneth Byrne was not s coward, and that he would keep his word. In half an hour's time he had forgotten the oireumetance, but the conversation had been written down againßt him in the book of fate. It was to causa him terrible trouble in the future—a trouble that seemed to have fallen upon him already; for later, when they had returned home, and Griffith stole into his room after he slept, Kenneth looked pale and sad, and hit brother heard him murmur: " Olga, beautiful Olga!" Griffith took the bottle of brandy of which he had entered in search, and passed from the apartment. Outside the door he paused to mutter: "You never, never shall hove her, Ken neth Byrne, though I die in the attempt to make her mine." Then, at he reaehed his room, he flung himself face downward on his bed, sob bi *Sh, what a fool—what a fool I have been I" What new mischief did he contemplate ; as he lay there with his face hidden in i hie pillows, and the wash of the waves sounding outside?" The wind was howling dolefully as if to increase his sorrow, but suddenly he raised up hie head, he was flushed with triumph, his eyes sparkled wickedly. BiJV hl L b *' h ? ,mid - 'I will not let h w^î V *i h v r : ® h * 8h * 11 »* mine!" Well might Olga toss on her pillows, well might little Chris lie awake, for this , WM Pruning for them a sorrow that could never be overoome. The next day was dark and r dny, bnt early m the morning, like a foul bird of Ptey, Griffith rode through the fog to the Aetange mansion. . 01 8 a . ,aw him coming, and shuddered— ■ne had cause. She greeted him coldly, but he was not repulsed. *£ hin S CÄn ***** vanity. .♦v« 1 ®*' s* id ; "i h* T e come here on a wedding 6 " 1 * 114 * 1 d#,,re to hasten our She shrank awav. Listen, dear," he continued, "I have a I night heard a half fool, half lunatic of a girl vow ehe would kill me on the day of the marriage, if she knew when it was to take place. Gigs, she is truly nothing to me; but I found 8 i®.!ï B8 aflirt-andl flirted with her just • «ÎÎ e ' Tb * result is she loves me. Dear, I hive given out word that our î 1 ®* 1 *!!,®® •hell he celebrated in Septem ber. To save my life, will you not let me wed yon this month? Think how much trouble it will spare every one; but even >our sisters must not know about it. Olga, will you consent, remembering it ie my life?" 8 She did not answer, for a servant had entered the room with a card in her hand. She looked around. "A- l°dy to see Miss Verine," she said. Mademoiselle Giraud; is she in. Miss Olga?" Yes; show the lady into the library," replied Olga, and the girl quitted the apartment. Olga turned to Griffith. You must give me time to consider your proposal. I do not think I can grant the request. I will tell you to-morrow." "Oh, no, no. I will go out in the gar den anti wait half an hour; at the end of th it time surely you can decide. Olga, when you think it means my life yon will, and answer yes. What can it matter?" ' Her lace grew white ana tioublel. "I will wait half an hoar and think," she answered. "Go into the garden, Grif lith; in half an honr I will meet you in the summer-honse." He bent to kiss her, but she motioDed him away, and he left her sitting on that sofa asking herself her duty. Why should she sacrifice herself by a secret marriage for this man's folly, per haps sin? she questioned herself. And something seemed to her to answer: be cause you have promised to shire your life with him, have plighted him your vow to lovo him, to think of his welfare always. Perhaps it was because she felt if he had been another she would haie gone with him anywhere gladly; she now al most r, solved to do as he wished. But Kenneth's face rose in her memory. Could she forever part heiself from him —yield him, as it were, to Chris? As she sot there with her eyes wide open, drenming, she heard Chris greeting her guest in the other room. She had no idoa of listening to them, no idea their conversation was to be of a private nature; bnt she was in a kind of trance, from which she felt no disposition to rouse herself. Chris' words fell on unheeding ears, as the girl said: "When did yon return from California, Mademoiselle?" "A week ago." replied Mademoiselle, who looked pretty in her costly Persian costume, and who seemed overjoyed to see Chris. "My dear, I heard of your good fortune, aud I came at once to con gratulate you. I expected you were mar ried to either Lord Elgin or Kenneth Byrne lODg before this. Why did yon not make the most of your time on that lone ly ride over the mountains?" "Mademoiselle, I-" gasped Chris, and paused. "Don't flash, dear; either Kenneth Byrne or Lord Elgin would have pro posed if you had managed your aliairs with half the diplomacy I did mine with Mr. Miller, And now you see I have a home on the avenue, my private stable, and all the diamonds I can wear. Ken neth could have given you any of these things; but if you will come and stay with me I'll get you even a richer benu." Olga had unconsciously listened, and now she buried her white face in her hands as she asked: "What has Kenneth Byrne been to this girl?" Through the air jealousy seemed to hiss the words: "A lover!" W ith her eyes glistening and her cheeks flushed, with her 6com of herself for having allowed herself to care for a man who she now believed belonged to an other, she went out to Griffith, and, put ting her hand in his, said: "I will marry you whenever you wish." He uttored a cry of triumph; yes, he rejoiced in the thonght of wrecking this girl's life, and despite the cruelty ex pressed in his wicked eyes Olga did not know she hod by her desperate act cost a human life—that she had cast a soul down into the black abyss of despair. Was it her own? CHAPTER XXI. A WHITE MIST OF JOY. Olga remained in the little summer house long after Griffith had departed, in spite of the damp air, and even the dashes of rain that entered the place. The girl was distressed by the thought of what she had done. "It was not right to promise to marrv him in secrecy, but oh, I am ro afraid I do not do for him what I should for Ken neth if he were my betrothed husband that I grant him favors that I would not an other man. 1 wonder how this will all eDd—what is to become of me, after all." The wind, moaning over the water, struck a chill to her as she asked the question. She drearily stared out on the dismal landscape, on which the rain fell so mo notonously, till a footstep sounded on the grave lêd path, and looking up she saw Belle was coming toward her. Idly sur veying her, Ida perceived her step-sister appeared pale and haggard. What troubled her? Was she unhappy, too? She greeted her anxiously, saying: "Are yon not well this morning?" "Yes, why?" was the short answer, as Belle entered the snmmer-honse and sat down as if prepared for a tete-a-tete with her sister; it was an unusual thing for her lo seek her, so Olga regarded the comer with surprise. "Because you look ill," she impulsively replied. Belle turned on her vindictively. "It is in the air, for you do, too," she eaid. "Olga, every one says you look ten years older than myself, even Griffith. Was it yonr lover who jnst left yon?" Olga assented. Belle looked at her searchini Kingly. "Do yon know, at times, I believe yon care nothing for him,* she said. "Every one says it is strange yon do not marry Kenneth instead of his brother." "It is kind of people to interest them selves in my affaire, " said Olga, haughtily. Belle leaned toward her. "Olga," she said, "do yon love Griffith? Tell me, do you think he loves yon?" There was an eagerness in this sallow faced women's tone and manner Olga did not heed. A bitter look earns over her face—a proud, fiereé' look; she was thinking of Chris and Kenneth, and the actress who believed "they migh be lovers." 'I think, sometimes," she eaid, "man knows no such sentiment at love. Women and children may weave poetical verses abont faith and honor; man laugh at them. They aie cruel at the best. Griffith ie like ell the rest. I do not be lieve he really loves me." "Yet von are going to miny him,* muttered Belle, in a strangely relieved voies. "One might me well marry one as an other; none will be true," said Olga, mill in that hard, strained voioe. Belle smiled. "Well. Olga, I retlly do think yon are not a woman to keep any man's affection long. People find you so peoulier, you see, dear. And, really, do you know, you have given the word ample cause to gos sip, taking in that little Chris? It seema she has been e great friend of Kenneth Byrne; aud the other night be came near fighting a man in a liquor saloon because he mentioned her. He is in love with her, they say; and I should not be at all surprised if you got yourself well scan dalized for having her here." "I am sick of that subject. Let the world scandalize me if it desires. I am indifferent," eaid Olga, rising to return to the bouse. She met little Chris on the veranda. "I was jnst searching for you," said the young girl. "The mail has come, and you nave some letters, and Belle also. I re ceived one from Mr. Kenneth Byrne, ask ing me to go to a clam bake over at Great Neck to-morrow. We sail scions in his yacht." Belle had followed Olga up the path and had taken her letter from Chris, while Olga tore hers open. Presently she glanced up at Chris, said nothing, but seemed troubled. "Did yon only receive one letter?" she asked, at last. Chris bowed as Belle cried: "Why, Olga, the Markhams are going to give a grand ball. Is it not splendid? Is that your invitation?" Olga bit her lips. "Yes," she slid; "I shall send a regret." "A regret! you must be crazy; it will be the affair of the sea-on. Chris, yon re member the house we took you to see last week. Will it not be grand for a ball?" Chris bowed. A lump had risen in her throat as she comprehended why Olga had said she would send a regret; it was because these people, knowing her, had slighted her by not sendin • her an invitation." "It is too had that they did not invite you." said Belle, quite suddenly. "But then, dear, j ou really couldn't expect it, you know. The Markhams are very proud people. I am almost surprised they would invite us when we have actress in the house." Chris' hands wrung each other. Her lips quivered. Olgn glanced up at her; suddenly she rose, and put her arm about her waist, saying: "Chris, we will enjoy our sail to-mor row. Kenneth is an excellent seaman, and we will have a merry day. Have yon ever been on Great Neck? Our city mayor lives there in summer, you know, and many celebrities come up for a while. I thins I'll ask Kenueth to have some car riages sent over that we may drive around after our arrival. It was good of him to think of it for us, wasn't it, dear? You must try aud thank him, for I don't doubt but that the party was mostly gotten up for you. He sad yesterday, speaking of you, 'Tu as raison de l'aimer, elle est ail arable.' " "My dear Olga, why do you flatter the girl. You know-" began Belle. "Belle," interrupted Olga, with a stern look on her face, "I know Kenneth Byrne said that to me yesterday about Chris. He admires her, aud Chris must show him she appreciates his effoit to entertain her to-moirow. " 'That he may again fight some man in a low drinking saloon if he mentions Uer name?" sneered Belle. C'hriB looked startled. "What is this?" she asked. "That Mr. Byrne showed his friendship for you by seeking to protect your name from common slander," said Olga; and then as she explained, Chris' face lost its sad expression, and she stole away up in her little room and muttered: "He must, he does, care for me, and I am so happy." She laid her cheek against the cool pane of glass, for it hail brought a burn ing blush to think he cared for her. The rain dashing down the outside kept time to the music in her heart—the music wakened by the thought that ha loved her; that she, perhaps, was neces sary to his happiness. Olga had uuderstood her well when she had thought to cure Chris' sadness by telling her to thank Kenneth the next day. The girl forgot the slight that had been put upon her by wondeiing how Bhe could do enough to reward him for being kind. "She lovc3 him," said Olga, ts she watched Chris' face when Kenneth'« name was mentioued the following morn ing, aud a great loneliness fell upon the young heiress as she thought she was to marry a man she did not love. It seemed to her the future looked very dreary as she stood on the veranda pre pared to go to the picnic. Had she dre tmeu what the night was to bring she would not have thought so, but no one sees nn hour beyond the present. - [TO BE CONTINUED.] He Couldn't Say. "Who's running this hotel, anyhow?" asked a landlord of a traveling man who wasn't disposed to acccept the situation as meekly as he might have done. "Who's running this hotel?" "That's what I said." "Well, I can't say. I haven't made up my mind yet whether it's the cock roaches or the nocturnal insects that make sleep nothing but a fantastic dream of hope. Y'ou'U have to figure it out for yourself ."—Merchant Trav eler. Mr. W. A. Carter, in a recent lec ture on "Marine and Fresh Water Fishes, said that fish have the power of influencing one another by sounds and action. He had observed a shoal of carp following the lead of a single one, which conducted them to a quantity of food at a considerable distance away. He had also noticed that certain fresh water fish, such as trout, were sub servient to a ruler, which might be seen swimming at the head of his tribe. The same was possibly the case with some marine forms, like the herring and bass. Lawyer— Do you know the nature of an oath, madam? Witness—Well, I should say I did. My husband took off the screens yesterday, and is put ting up the stovepipe to-day.—The Law. THE PERFECT PHOTOGRAPH What to Do and What Mot ta Do to (let Speaking LlktnNA Here are some points for the wo man who proposes to bave ber own or her husband's, or ber children's picture taken, 'ihey are the utter ances of one wbo speaks with author ity, a photographer. And this is wbat he says: He adaptable. Resign yourself with as complete confidence in the artist photographer as you would to an artist painter, and the result will be entirely satisfactory. Disabuse your mind of tbe idea that poses and expressions which look well as prac ticed before your mirror will photo graph well. Before the camera they will generally produce dis torted features, distorted bodies, and monstrosities of hands. Lo nothing, forget that you want to look well and you will succeed in looking natural. As to your dress, any material that falls in graceful lines is desirable. L gltt colors are always preferable. For soft and dainty effects nothing is so beautiful as transparent ma terials, such as tulles, laces, nets. Blgek silk can be worn to advantage, and biack tulle and lace take beauti fully. Woo!en goods define the figure best, being less liable to wrinkle and crease than silk or satin. Open work embroideries in collars aud cuffs produce exceed ngly fine ef fects, particularly in pictures of the Remtrandt style. Dark green and red are the desire of the artist; large pi a ds suggest comic pictures. Velvet, plush, and jet do not photograph well. Close bandä about the throat are to be avo ded: allow it to be free. The slender woman may have perfect confidence In the Rembrandt shad ing to produce roundness of outline. Rembrandt, as you know, painted the broad side of the face in shadow and the narrow side in high light, with the result of a startling lile likeness in his portraits never ex celled. The woman who is thin should drape the neck and arms in delicate gauze or lace, and half con cealing, half revealing, make herself doubly attractive. Never dress a child in velvet unless of light-colored hues. Your boy's charming black or green velvet suit will be a photographic failure. There is nothing so befitting a boy in a pic ture as simplicity. Never ask the artist to make a full-length picture of a boy in knickerbockers. Boys' feet are proverbially large and loom up immensely when attached to a pair of slim legs clad from ankle to knee in stockings. Girls need ac cessories and striking effects—and, besides, are more graceful than boys, Baby, of course, must wear white, with no lack of ruffles and laces to add to his charm. Men's clotning should invariably be dark. Don't tell the photographer that you are the worst subject in the world to photograph, and never had a successful picture, it is a stilted remark resulting from a species of egotism which simply means that no camera has ever yet succeeded in pro ducing the beauties that you see in yourself. Don't practice expression and so succeed in disguising yourself. Don't tell baby that birds and monkeys will jump out of the side of the gallery to amuse him. His dis appointment will make him cross. Don't bring the entire family along to keep the child in good humor. The ailist can do that much more easily, and the baby is less likely to become nervous. Lon't bring a friend along to pose you. Trust to the professional rather than amateur skill. Don't, if you are an amateur, try to instruct an artist of thirty years' experience how to make a successful photograph. Lon't grow angry if you cannot break tbe business rules of the studio because you do not think they are good.—Sc. Louis Post-Dispatch. FARMER IMMIGRANTS WANTED. The Experiment Whlrli an Ohio Capitalist Will Try In Nebraska. A plan for securing farmer iinmi grants has just been put into opera tion in Nebraska by a wealthy Ohio manufacturer, and it is the under standing of the South that Governor Northen, of Georgia, advocates similar experiment in his State. Some time ago the Ohio man pur chased 12,000 acres in Nebraska. Ini the center of this tract 100 acres are laid off for the village site, and in the center of this forty acres for public park, Facing the park are the school, church or churches, public halls, stores, shops, etc. The re mainder is cut up into 210 lots of about a half acre each for dwellings for the farmers, storekeepers, me chanics and others who may seek residence in the village. After pro viding for the village the rest of the 12,000 acres is divided Into 150 farmR of about eighty acres each, with roads so laid out as to give each farm an open highway to the village. It is proposed to sell these farms on time, giving ample time to the pur chasers to pay for them, and to assist In the building of the villiage by helping to build the schoolhouses, churches and such other public build ingsas may be desired. If this idea ___ ^ ^ ^ , is carried out, there will be a village of 150 families of farmers, and per hans fiftv or more other families haps fifty or more other families of storekeepers, mechanics and others, say a village of 200 families, or 1,000 people, which would make a consid erable place. Governor Northen suggests that land owners form mint stock com panies, purchase a central tract for the village, build a church, a school house, a store, have a postoftice estab lished, and then let those nearest the village site cither build, or if practi-1 cable, move their dwelling to the vil läge site, thus giving ita start. Thta subdivide the large farms into snail ones, and invite settlers to come, pur chase, and become residents of the village. _ Immense Crystals. If somebody should find a diamond ns big as a foot-ball, h.s discovery would hardly be more unexpected than one which has recently been made In Utah; relating to a kind of crystals, however, far less precious than diamonds. The discovery re ferred to is that of a deposit of se lenium found near the Fremont River in a mound-like elevation formed by tbe washing and wearing away of the clay and sand surrounding It Nelenide crystals arj formed from the rare element selenium, which is related to sulphur, and was discovered in 1817 in the refuse of a sulphuric acid factory by the celebrated chem ist, Berzelius. In its vitreous form selenium is sometimes employed for optical pur poses. Many years ago little medal lion portraits of Berzelius were occa sionally to be seen, cast lu this sub stance which he haa discovered. Selenium has been found in small quantities in native deposits, notably at Cuiebras, in Mexico. But hitherto the seienide crystals obtainable have been small, being "measured by inches and weighed by ounces." Now, however, they have been obtained In the Utah deposit weighing as much* as a thousand pounds! Many tons of these crystals have been taken from the mound. Some of them are four and even five feet in length, with faces six inches broad. One huge crystal had nine teen small ones projecting out of it. As far as known this unique deposit has no rival in the world. Manchester's Enterprise. The costly undertaking of turning Manchester into a seaport is rapidly approaching completion. Five miles of quay are already laid; the ship canal, thirty-five miles long, connect ing the city with the tideway of .the Mersey, is expected to he open for traffic early next year. One-third of the distance is already open to ship ping. This gigantic undertaking was begun in 1887. The cost has amounted to fortv-flve millions of dollars—some one million five hundred thousand dollars was sunk In parliamentary expenses. The canal is capable of passing through vessels of large ton nage as the Suez Canal. To carry the four important lines of railway which intercept its course over it, has ■ necessitated the construction of via j ducts seventy feet high. Six swing j bridges and a high-level cantilever j bear main roads over its waters j Elaborate arrangements have had to j be made for its intersection by the | Bridgewater Canal. The original i plan was to level It through on the j high-water line of the Mersey; but that was abandoned, and a series of locks now bring the canal at Man chester up to the level of the city, sixty feet over Liverpool. The locks and bridges are opened and shut by hydraulic power. Vessels, by the aid of electric 1 ght, will be passed through by night us easily as by day. Mr. F. Leader Williams is the en gineer of this new wonder of tho world. It Frightened Would-be Boarders. A pretty Thirty-eighth street widow whose ill-success at running a boarding-house caused her to pino away to a mere skeleton is taking on flesh now, the happy result of her sudden prosperity. Her years of bad , luck, she discovered, were all duo to the sign before her door. It read: "Professional Boarders." She meant, of course to catch an educated class of people, but to her dismay those who stopped to read the notice hur ried away without ringing the bell. About a month ago s ie concluded to experiment with the sign, so she juggled the words around and made them read: "Boarding—Profession als. " The same day a curly-haired young man called and inquired ifallghtroom suitable for a studio was to be had. He was followed by an elderly gentle man, who said he was a judge. They were both taken in. The following day four doctors, two i of them women, a lawyer and thiee ; professors were accommodated. Five i long-haired poets and three music | teachers, one male and two females, were at the same time turned away ! temporarily because the carpets were j not down on the top floor. They j ' j j j ! i ! 1 ; ! I . , ... ». . . „ , j ïar * n Lnis LtiaL sbe listens on the stree *' 8 10 strolling players, hoping to flnd an ° le BuU among them, [ j have since been taken in. The estimable landlady has so far kept them all by addressing them by their professional titles.—New York World. As Good as Her Name. The Princess Christian is said to be more devoted to good works than any other of the Queen's duughters. Her pet scheme is the British Nurses' Association, and next to that she is devoted to flower charities. She has a big conservatory and every day she sends out great bunches of flowers to all the sibk ln her neighborhood. She also delights to discover -genius and make smooth its path. Sbe goes so far in this that she The Lee Mansion. The pictuiesque old mansion that i w - a f. h °mo of several generations i ^' ees of Virginia is still 6tand In an excellent state of preserva tion near Fairfax Court House. It is known as Ravensworth, and with its tine grounds and historic treasures in the way of relics, it is, next to Mount Vernon, probably the most interest ing old house in the Old ltomioion. ' Bar ^ * n eighteenth century the ® state the home of the Fitzhughs, ff OIn w ^ ona the Lee family inherited > Interm arriage. _ When women have a grievance j they pass resolutions, and make an investigation afterwards. THE BALKING BURRO. How It Was Finally FmmsM to OMR ■an on Itself. There Is a boy in Newport who owns a burro, which means, says New York Telegram, that tbe boy has no time to take a vacation. A burro is a cross between a mule and a jack rabbit and has tbe qualities of both under certain circumstancea Like the latter It can run fast, wear long ears or stand still In one spot for a long time. Like a mole it goes and comes at its own pleasure and notât anyone else's nod and beck. Its favorite amusement is to stop suddenly in tbe middle of the street and stand there while an admiring throng watch the bov trv to i>tart iu It stopped on the.Fort Thomas elec tric car track the other day, and after beating it until he was tired the boy got off and tried to lead it. But it braced its legs and held back btavely. Then he got behind and tried to push. It never changed its position. Then he pushed first on one side and then on the other, try ing to throw it It only spread its four legs wide apart like those of a saddler's horse. Then t^.e boy took off the bridle, thinking it might try to run away, knowing itself to be free. The burro smiled at this. Then the boy gathered a lot of stones and began pelting It. The burro never flinched. A man was sprinkling his yard with a hose near by, and the boy got him to squirt water on the burro. The burro laughed and snickered audibly. Then the boy pulled a handful of fresh grass and held it temptingly in front, but the burro only nodded his bead and leveled bis double-barreled head gear at its master (V.) Naturally this excited the crowd, and many were the words of encouragement showered upon tho boy and * the sticks and yells at the burro, for the bov in a sort of public ad dress gave them all "leave at him. " Just at this point an electric car ap peared. It came spinning up in the burro's rear, clanging its bell noisily, for the motorman recognized the ob structionist. Ho thought the animal would get out of the way of the racket But the burro never moved. The motorman, not caring to kill the beast, stopped the car suddenly, only giving tbe burro a hard bump which made him brace the harder. Then the crowd yelled while ah at tempt was made to start the car slowly, but the burro only spread his legs widor and smiled. The passen gers then got off, and, two men tak ing hold of each leg of the burro, thev lifted it off the track and sat itdowu on the roadside just as if it had bee a heavy center table. The boy the* put on the bridle again and climbing aboard trotted the burro off after the car, wagging his cars as peacefullj as If he had never balked in his life. Gan These Assertions Be True? In England and on the Continent there are on all trains coaches la beled "ladies only," in addition to the ordinary and smokers' carriages. As a usual thing these compartments, intended for the use of timid women traveling alone, are carefully avoided, and on the Continent it Is not un usual to sec women crowding into the smoking carriages, while the "ladies only" are almost empty. A woman wbo travels a good deal tells why she thinks this is sa Her reasons con tain an interesting reflection on fem inine human nature. "When 1 travel," she said, "I like to be as comfortable as possible, and that one cannot be where only women are. All women are selfish, but they seldom show it before men, more es pecially if the men are strangers; with their own sex, however, they have no compunction. If one wants to put a few umbrellas or a bat-box on the rack, it is generally so full al ready that it is no easy matter to da so. No hand Is stretched forth to make the necessary room. If a corner seat is wanted, a woman Is not likely to give up her place to another wo man, whereas in a compartment where the sexes are mixed there Is sure to be some gentleman who will move his things to accommodate a lady, and even give up his scat to her if she requires such a sacrifice. Then there is the window of the dames seules compartment; if you happen to want it down a little the other oc cupants will want it up, and vice versa; but in another carriage, iu nine cases out of ten, if you are a woman you can generally manage to have your own way about the win dow. 1 couldn't travel in a 'ladies only' carriage on any account. In deed, I would sooner get into a smok ing carriage." The Teeth of the Negro. The old-time colored man was noted for the brilliant whiteness of his teeth—a quality which is not inher ited by his descendants of tbe pres ent day. CNowadays the teeth of the negro do not seem to be nearly so good as those of h:s white brother. The reason is to be found in tbe change of food. The slaves had plenty to eat, Dut the food given them was of the simplest kind. Fork, meal, potatoes, and such vegetables as they raised formed their bill of fare. Now they eat all sorts of indigesti ble stuff, out-doing the white people in this direction, showing a particu lar fondness for candies and sweet meats. The consequence is that in a single generation the ivory teeth of tbe stave have given place to the de cayed fangs of tbe freed man. Metals. The metal In commercial use— copper, lead, tin, zinc, nickel and aluminum—are never absolutely pure, and their value varies much ac cording to the impurities with which they are contaminated, for the im purities limit the uses to which thaw metals may be applied.