Newspaper Page Text
tall and | J J. F. GRIST, Ed itor. _ LEXINGTON. : : MISSISSIPPI. FOUR O'CLOCKS. The shade by the barn Is widening still. And by the trough where the willows grow; One by one over Blueberry Hill The billowy clouds go drifting slow. Down from the bed by the old w hite gat There steals a subtle and spiced pertui " As the long, sweet afternoon grows late; The four-o'clocks are beginnlg to bloom. Thin blue wreaths from the chimney twine As some one kindles the fire for tea; Scent of the burning willow and pine Blends w ith the garden spicery. The sun sinks lower along the lane, poplars stand Where straight, And the eddying fragrance waft# again From the four-o'clocks by the old white gate. Purple and snowy and pink and red. They fling their sweetness up to the sun, A challenge gay from the garden bed Just as the long, bright day is done. The cows walk soberly down the lane. The workers back from the meadows come. And the four-o'clocks breathe their greet ing ugain— "Welcome, and evening, and rest, and home." Friendly posies to love and pet. Flowers of homeliest, humblest cheer, They lure and bind with a magic yet Stranger and stronger year by year. Mystical dreams of worlds remote. Poetry, passion, glow of the west. Ail in their fragrant greeting float— "Welcome, and evening, and horns, and rest." —Mabel Earle, in Youth's Companion. Out of the Past By EDWARD B. CLARK H EZEKIAH EDGARS sat before the flreless grate with dull despair depicted in his face. ''The poorhouse." he murmured. "God, what a horror." The room in which the old man sat was bare of furniture save for a bed, a chair and an old horsehair trunk, brass nailed and padlocked at the hasp. On the wall was a portrait in oil, dim with age for the most part, yet with the stern set face of the old Puritan preacher, Jonathan Edgars, looking out with eyes untouched by time. The old man rose unsteadily from the chair and, walking to the window, looked out upon the gray day. Then, shivering, he turned away, without and within," he said to him self. "The whole world is chill for him who is old." Hezekiah Edgars took a worn purse from the pocket of his threadbare coat and, opening it, looked within. "Fifteen dollars,' he muttered, "and when that is gone, the poorhouse." The house in which he stood had been his and his ancestors. Now it "Cold 1 lull Lilli H M I It | , ' ! i u Ik v h F[ | gLx TOUCHED THE FLAME TO THE PILE OF PAPER. was mortgaged and the foreclosure | was coming. He had no near relatives to whom to make an appeal even had not his pride forbade it. At 78 years the feeble and poverty-stricken have few friends. Hezekiah Edgars took a key from the purse and, stooping down, removed the heavy padlock of the trunk and threw back the lid. The trunk was full of letters. They were time-stained and those showing at the top of the mass bore traces of broken seals. The letters had been written long before the days of envelopes. Hezekiah Ed gars picked up one of the stained let ters and spread it open. His still keen eye ran rapidly down the lines. "What a story is here," he muttered. He glanced quickly up at the face In the frame above him, and In his Imag ination he seemed to see in the stern features a questioning look. The door leading Into the room opened softly and a rough looking man, but one In whose face there was something of kindness, though it had been brutalized by drink, entered. The stranger saw the open trunk and the letter in the old man's hand, and steal ing quietly forward looked eagerly over the shoulder of the stooping fig ure at the written page, stepped back a few steps and spoke. "Good morning, Mr. Edgars." The old man started violently, fold ed the letter with nervous haste, thrust Then he BEAUTY AS A BANE. Attract* Foreigner* to Venice and Florence ami Native* Depend Upon Fleecing Them. Florence and Venice and the rest are cursed with the burden of a most dangerous legacy from their past—the legacy of beauty. Because of this beauty (which the people themselves do not enjoy) the rich of all nations flock to them, bringing full purses and o disposition to spare no expense, says Cecil Chesterton, In London Outlook. The native begins to regard these vis itors as his natural prey. Why should be work when foreigners are so easily fleeced? Accordingly he does not work —at least In the productive sense; b* touts and begs and sells ornaments •t three times their real value. The victory Instead of going to strength, goes to weakness. Parents of the poorer class look upon a deformed or crippled child aa a bleeslng, since its pitiful helplessness mnkes It a more sOcleat beggar. Uto these cities, It back into the trunk, closed the lid and snapped the padlock. "You startled me, Jim." he said. "I did not know you were here. You're welcome though, Jim. You're about the only friend I have, and I must leave you soon." "So I've heard, Mr. Edgars, but per* haps it won't be so bad as you think. Haven't you got some rich ones, even though they ain't near kin, that you can write to? Folks don't like to hear of relatives, even though they're only ninth cousins, goln' to the poorhouse." "None that I'd appeal to, Jim," said the old man. The next day Jim Hapgood saw old Hezekiah Edgars pass down the street. He was going after his dally meager supply of food. "That old man," mused Hapgood, "is an aristocrat. He's got the best blood In the land in him. He told me once that the old Puritan fellow in the frame was his great-great-uncle, and the most famous preacher in the land. But artistocracy and ancestry don't count when you're 78 and ain't got no money." The old man disappeared around the corner of the street. Hapgood, with a curious light in his eyes, went quickly across the roadway and entered the ram shackle old mansion which Edgars had just left. He went straight to the up stairs room where he had seen the open trunk. Entering he took a curious shaped key from his pocket and sprung the clasp of the padlock, throwing back the lid of the trunk. With nervous haste he picked out a letter. It was the one which the old man had been read ing the day before. Hapgood read the letter through, and a smfle of satis faction. came into his face. Then he locked the trunk and came away. That night Jim Hapgood scraped to gether all the money he could and left | for New York city. Thence he went to Newport. In three days' time he was J back at his home with the light of an almost fierce joy in his eyes. The day after Jim Hapgood's depart ure Hezekiah Edgars missed the daily visit which this rough fellow had been in the habit of paying. He liked Hap good despite his roughness and his drunkennesss, for the fellow in his way had been kind to the old man. Edgars in his loneliness turned to the trunk. He unlocked it and took out several of the letters. He did not detect the ab sence of one. He went over them one at a time, while the stern face in the portrait above looked down on him. The great part of the letters were ad dressed to Aaron Burrage, the grand son of the man who was looking down from the frame on the wall and the cousin of the father of the old man who was bending over the trunk. Hezekiah Edgars knew the names that were signed to these letters. They were the names of women, famous women in their day a century agone, and names still borne by people whom the world knew for their wealth and their po sition. Hezekiah Edgars half shud dered as he read the letters and thought of the power for evil of his long dead kinsman. "Why were these never destroyed," he asked himself, ''before they came into my hands?" Then he closed the trunk and locked it. Three days later Jim Hapgood en tered the old man's apartment. "Mr. Edgars," he said, "I did something mean, but I guess you won't be sorry when you know what come of it. I took a letter out of that horsehair trunk the other day, and I've beea to New York and Newport, and I showed it where it did the most good. The women who wrote those letters have descendants. I seen a few of 'em while I was away. That trunk, with whats in it, delivered in New York city Monday of next week, is worth $50,000 cold cash. There's $1 , ',000 of It for me and $40,000 of It lor you, and you won't go to no poorhouse | yet awhile. Now, don't you look like , that, for the letters won t hurt no ' body and won't get published. They're goin' to the descendant;! of the writers, ! and they 11 burn 'em up quick. You i just think over it till to-morrow, and j'U come again." The old man's hands were trembling. When Hapgood left he rose unsteadily and looked about him. The room seem ingly was barer than ever. The words "forty thousand dollars" went buzzing through his brain. Then he put the thought of the money from him, and quickly came the vision of that awful place on the outskirts of the town where the aged paupers went. Hezekiah Edgars' ejes went to the face In the picture. With all its se verity It was a noble face that looked down upon him. The old man studied It and thought of his father and his fa ther's father. "They were honorable men," came the thought, "and I have been an honorable man to this day." He dragged the trunk from the corner to the fireplace. He unlocked It and took out the letters in armfuls with a sort of delight in his face and threw them on the hearth. He had emptied the trunk. He lighted a match and touched the flame to the pile of paper. He watched the flames lick up the letters. In a moment or two there was nothing but gray ashes on the hearth. The old man turned and looked square ly and proudly into the eyes of the face on the wall. Jim Hapgood went to that room the next day. The old man was on his bed, with a smile lighting up his dead face.— Chicago Record-Herald. where such a fine harvest can be gathered on such easy terms, the strong, industrious peasantry are sucked till they become idle, demoral ized gamblers. And all because they are the most beautiful places in the world; because their past is so glorious that strangers come from the ends of the earth to see its grave. Thus the modern Florentine lives, like some horrible cannibal, upon his own dead. Harried Life. Lovett—You don't believe in di vorce, then? Hayter—No, sir; I've got too much sportin' blood. Lovett—What has that to do v ith It? Hayter--I believe in a fight to Ihe finish.—Catholic Standard and Time*. Education Completed. Ethel—But, dear, you went to th* cooking school only three month* Mabel (of Boston)—Oh, that wa* sufficient. I learned to brown beans to perfection and cook codfish in six different style*.—Chicago Daily New* THE ANGLER AND THE LITTLE FISH. • -V •£, >. j££ -~T? Pi ill TO 37 V* * 1 risw.%- * Vf s mi <3 'U*!iA* ■iuV'c'/,' to. .<-*3 O •vs i Find Another Fish. A fisherman who had caught a very little fish, was about to throw him into his basket. The little fellow, gasping, pleaded thus for his life: "What, you are never going to keep such a little chap as I am, not one-quarter grown. Fifty such as I am wouldn't make a decent dish. Do throw me back, and come and catch me again when I am bigger.'' "It's all very well to say 'Catch me again,' my little fellow," replied the man, "but you know you will make yourself very scarce for the future. You're big enough to make one in the frying pan, so in you go." MORAL—Never let slip the present opportunity, but secure every little ad vantage just In the nick that offers without a vain reliance upon, and fruit less expectations of, something better In time to come. THE WINE SAMPLER'S JOB. Xot Sneli an Enviable Occnpnllon an Some Lover* of Grnpc Juiee Imagine. "There's only one job at the St. Louis exposition that I would like to get," said a well-known man about town at his club, relates the Albany Journal, "and that is a wine sampler." "You would soon get sick of your job," replied a fellow clubman. "There will be between 30,000 and 40,000 sam ples in the wine exhibit, and if you would be allowed to taste it in the ordi nary way your finish would be rapid. "I have heard the business de scribed, and as a matter of fact it Is not customary in this operation to permit the wine tester to sip from each bottle and pronounce his judgment until his mind begins to wander and his tongue thicken. He does not swallow the wine at all. It is tasted, but never swallowed. After five or six samples have been ex amined the jurors will rest a few min utes, then eat a bit of cheese and a bis cuit, after which they rinse their mouths with mineral water and pro ceed as before. This is kept up from nine in the morning until noon. Per sons who can thus refrain from real in dulgence in the wine cup presented in this tantalizing manner are examples of abstinence which ought to inspire admiration for the race. "It is not every one who can thus tread near the danger and step back from the brink. With a man's nose in the cup that inebriates he is generally a goner. It is as good as settled when he gets so far as to lay his hand upon the wicker door. The exhilarating ef fect of suffering a stream of some 50 or 100 different kinds of wine to pass be tween one's lips even if refused admit tance at the inner portal, must be con siderable; and a layer of cheese, a layer of biscuit and a layer of mineral water continued for three hours, it would seem, would be a distressing ordeal. After the 'bouquet' of the cheese, what becomes of the bouquet of the wine? There are cheeses that make one quite oblivious of every other thing set on the table before one. I would have no confidence at all in the judgment of a jury after the sixteenth round of cheese." HE TALKED TOO MUCH. Peddler Cornea to Grief at the Handa of n "Henpecked Hunt/' Loqaacli Persistently the broom peddler was offering his wares to everyone he met and was trudging up the avenue, when he saw a large man standing on the curb. The latter had a pugilistic chin and was deeply engrossed in an open newspaper, relates the New York Her ald. "Do you want a broom, sir?" ques tioned the peddler, flourishing the broom to demonstrate its durable qualities. "Nope! '' snapped the large man, with out looking up. "Oh, I see! You are a bachelor. Well, you are lucky. Do you see that little house over there with brown steps?" The large man glanced up for the first time. "Yes; what of it?" "Well, I have an order for a broom over there." "You have, «h?" "Yes, and the lady wants a strong one. She said she wanted one to suit her hus band, and from the way she said it I guess she intends to hammer him across the shoulders. Well, the chances are he is some little dried-up man and hasn't the courage or strength to defend him self against henpecking. It serves him right." "Aren't you a little hard on the poor man." "Not at all, sir. But you don't happen to know the little henpecked runt, do you?" "Perhaps." * "Perhaps? S-say you—" "Yes, I'm the little henpecked runt you refer to. I'm the dried-up man that hasn't the courage or strength to de fend himself. Take that! and when you get up if you don't get out of the neigh borhood I'll eat you up, do you hear?" But the broom peddler couldn't hear. His ears were scooping In the mud from the cobblestones. Might Be True. Mrs. de Flatte—Dr. Knowall says milk should not be used In large quan tities, because It makes the hair fall out Do you believe that? Mrs. Suburb—Dear me! It might be. Our cow sheds It* coat dreadfully.— Stray Stories. STAGE PEOPLE IN SUMMER. Some of the Performer* Have n Hard Time TidliiK the Olf SeuNon Over. In summer what becomes of the num bers of stage people who return to the metroplis penniless at the close of the season? How do they live? These ques tions were put to the manager of the theatrical agency in Broadway, says the New York Post. "Indulgent landladies, friends in the country, and parents in the city solve the summer problem for hosts of theatrical people," replied the agent. "An actor would sooner starve than be seen by his mates working at any other trade. About 75 per cent, of those who remain here get trusted for their summer's board and lodging. They pay up, in most cases, in the course of the next season, sending from week to week to the landlady sufficient to can cel their summer's indebtedness. "Of course," went on the agent, "they're not all improvident. See that little girl going out?" He pointed to a petite figure in the ceaseless stream of applicants. "Got plenty of money enough to last her until the season opens and a bit to spare. They call her stingy on the road, because she won't spend her money. Laugh on her side now. Many of 'em come here without a rag to their backs for summer and have to wear their winter clothes or last year's suits and dresses. This one wears good clothes— summer clothes, of the newest pattern, and promenades on Broadway like a queen. When she's signed, and the hot weather is on to stay, she'll go down to the shore or into the country and en joy herself. Dresses well, looks well, lives well. Next winter she'll pay her hotel bills, with no 'incidentals.' "That one over there, the seedy one, couldn't buy a cigar at a cut-rate store. He'll come out all right, though. Never has a cent, but always at work. One of the summer-stock boys. A little late this year, though. I'm afraid. He's just in from a long tour. Pretty late for stock, but he's an old stager, and may land. A good many eke out the year's Income by playing summer en gagements at various theaters through out the country. Nearly every city ol any size has from one to half a dozen stock companies this summer; the sum mer stock business has grown enor mously in the last two or three yearn, and gives employment to hundreds. Not enough to go round, though. The best people, as a rule, don't play summer engagements, although there are excep tions. Comparatively few of the best play summer stock, unless driven to It." SECURITY IN OCEAN TRAVEL. The Death Rate of Sailor* Haa De creaacd One-Half In the Laat Decade. Within ten years, thanks to bettei ships and better navigation, the death rate of sailors has decreased one-half, and Is now only 13 per 1,000, or 40 or 50 per cent, below the rate for all inhabi tants ot such cities as Boston, New York or Chicago, says the National Magazine, though, of course, such a comparison must not be pursued to its last analysis of why or wherefore, but taken tor what it is worth as a sufficienly surprising statement of an actual fact Out of 10,000 accidents reported to the Trav elers' Insurance company, 2,413 oc curred to pedestrians and 1,880 to per sons who were comfortably at home indoors. No fewer than 1,816 accidents were due to riding or driving, 689 to various sports, 406 to bicycling, and 477 to railway travel, while only 70 of these 10.000 accidents occurred upon the ocean. Making all due allowance for the obvious fact that there are always manj more persons walking, or indoors, oi engaged in pastimes, or railway jour neying than there are at sea, these fig ures are still significant. One great steamship company, with 40 vessels, lost only one seaman in a year, and it was recorded of the cele brated Inman line some years ago that it had conveyed, without one death, a million passengers. In the year 1890 the trans-Atlantic liners made nearly 2,000 voyages from New York to the various ports of the united kingdom and the continent, carrying 200,000 cabin and 372.000 steerage passengers across 3,000 miles of boisterous ocean. And yet in this entre year there was not one acci dent'costing the-life of a single ono of these more than half a million people. Rank. Higgins—Why do you encourage per sons to call you colonel? Wiggins—Because if folks called me by my army rank of major, people would think I was only a captain.—Boston Transcript. INCREASE OF CANCER. Swell Ins Death Hate from Tlilat anae lalderahle Alarm Ih KoRlaud. Creating t'l For some years past physicians have been sounding an alarm on the appar ent rapid increase in cancer, argument is based upon the official mortality statistics of various coun tries, which seem to show that the number of deaths from malignant tumors is becoming greater, not only absolutely and in proportion to the increase of population, but also in pro portion to the deaths from all causes, states Youth's Companion. Thus in England in 1890 the death rate from cancer was nearly 68 per 100,000 of the population, and in 1900 it was almost 83 per 100,000. The ratio of deaths from cancer to tboso from all causes in persons over years cf age was one out of 20 in 1890, but in 1900 it was one out of 12. The publication of these figures has created a feeling of great uneasiness in England, and many theories have been put forward to account for them. But as a matter of fact, the condition is probably not so bad as it appears to be. Figures are notoriously mis leading, and those on tho prevalence of cancer are doubtless no exception to the rule. In the first place, vital statistics are becoming more accurate with each year, and figures are now returned from places whence none came ten years ago. Again, physicians are ac quiring constantly greater accuracy in diagnosis, and many deaths which would formerly have been returned as from some other cause are now' put down to cancer. Another fact which softens somewhat the terrifying aspect of these statistics is that the general length of life is increasing, and there fore more people live to the age at which cancer commonly appears. These facts cannot, however, explain away ail the figures, and it is un doubtedly true that cancer is increas ing n-.ore or less rapidly. But there is a bright side to this, as to nearly all things, for the very fact of its increase has drawn the attention of scientific investigators in all countries to can cer, and each is vying with the other in the attempt to solve the mystery of the disease and to discover a means to abate its ravages. Their ;i5 CITY HAS TO BE PUMPED DRY. Low-liyliiK \ew Orleun* Cannot Be Drained by the Ordinary Methods. The city of New Orleans, like most of the land at each side of the Missis sippi river in the alluvial country, lies considerably beiow the high water line of the Mississippi river. The whole city would be inundated by the river occasionally if it were rot protected by a levee along the river front. The city is also protected by levees ning at right angles to the river—one above the city and one below it—and also by a levee along the shore of Lake Ponlchartrain and by levees along the banks of the various canals which reach from that lake into the territory of the municipality, says the Engineering Magazine. New Orleans is so near the mouth of the river that the land upon which the city is built is not only lower than the high water stage of the river, but is in Dart lower than the level of the gulf of Mexico and of the various lakes in the vicinity of the city. Therefore, there is no natural drain age for the land inclosed by the levees surrounding the town. The rain water that falls upon this area has to be pumped so as to force it into either Lake Pontchartrain or Lake Borgne. The city itself covers a large area, al though the major portion of its area is not built up as a city. The part at present chiefly occupied by buildings consists of a strip a mile or so wide along the bank of the river. This area is the subject of rainfalls the greatest of which for many years has been about seven and a half inches within 24 hours, which is equivalent to a cube of water 870 feet long, wide and deep. Of course, such a rain oc curs only at very rare intervals. In 1894, before work on the new drain age system was commenced, records were each year, and these records have been continued until the present time. During the month of July, 1S94, 325, 738,830 cubic feet of water were drained away from about half the total area included in the drainage plan. This discharge tor «ne month is equivalent to a cube of water G85 feet on edge or to a lake ten miles long, 600 feet wide and ten feet deep, or to a canal 80 miles long, 40 feet wide and 20 feet deep. run kept of the amount of rainfall llone>*uekle nml Galium. It would be a disappointment if yel low ladles' bedstraw, or galium, came not in its season, year by year, among the stones around our sun dial. The pe culiar perfume of it refreshes greatly, more especially if mixed with honey It is only in Scotland, I be suckle. lleve, where wild honeysuckle blooms, late, deep within woodland shades, while yellow galium, with flower stalks rising foot or more, makes gay the sunny banks outside, that one can breathe this mixed sweetness. Galium is far less vigorous of growth here in the south, where, according to Gerarde, "it wan ders hither and thither upon the ground, supporting Its yellow spikes upon the herbage or stones near at hand." Red lamlum, always rather coarse-looltlng, is inclined to be a tiresome weed; though now and then It is impossible not to enjoy the dash of red given suddenly by a clutiter of it at the edge of a border, in the grass or somewhere else where it ought not to be; a short-lived tri umph, to be too quickly ended as soon as the gardens "come round."—Corn hill Magazine. The Bird of Paradise. Probably no famous bird had a smaller habitat than the bird of para dise, whose beautiful feathers are so highly prized in tho millinery trade. No one knows why the varieties of this beautiful bird are confined to the island of New Guinea and the neigh boring coasts of Australia. There are many other islands not far away where the conditions would seem to be equal ly favorable to their existence, but they are not found among them. A Trial Balance. A baby's flrst attempt to walk is a trial balance.—Chicago Dally News. MISS HELEN KELLEE. The Remarkable Achievements of a Remarkable Girl. * AltbnnK.il Born Dnl nnd Blind She Un Learned to Speak nnd low 1. . Senior In Kadclilln Colltt>. Unquestionably the most remarkable deaf and blind person in the world is Helen Keller. She is so interesting, indeed, that one never tires of reading about her and her wonderful achieve ments. She is certainly the best edu cated and her natural mentality ex ceeds that of any blind and deaf per son of her day. She was entirely dumb for years, but has now acquired a surprising degree of speech and can be understood by anyone. Indeed, when the Schermerhorn addition of the New York eye and ear infirmary in New York was dedicated last spring Helen Keller was one of the speakers and her address, delivered with her own lips, was a remarkable illustration of the success achieved in teaching the deaf and dumb to speak. While her speech lacks inflections and modula tions, and while it sounds strange and forced, it can be understood and it is an invaluable boon to Miss Keller, as she must now be called, since she reached her twenty-third birthday on the 27th of last June. Tho same month witnessed the close of her second year as a student at Radcliffe college, where her progress has been a surprise even to those most familiar with her abil ities. What this totally deaf and blind girl has accomplished as a student at col lege falls but little short of the miraculous. A quarter of a century ago the most hopeful of the teachers of the deaf and dumb and blind would have declared the achievements of Helen Keller to be impossible. In deed, some of the most sanguine of her friends sought to dissuade her from entering college after she had successfully passed the preparatory examinations because they felt that h ■M fj m Wy*/, to# tJHficlto-nakl -u ttouM 111 7Ii.Lc.Ti. t/V WONDERFUL BLIND GIRL. (Mtss Helen Keller and a Specimen of Her Writing.) the obstacles In the way were too many and too formidable for her to over come. But Miss Keller's will power is like adamant. She is not to be moved from attempting anything she has decided to do. She decided to enter college some years ago and "where there's a will there's a way," was all the argu ment she had to offer when her friends tried to ma^e her feel that a college diploma was beyond her powers of achievement. It is now certain that that diploma will be hers if she does not fail in health. The Detroit Free Press states that Mark Twain said that Helen Keller and Napoleon were the two most interesting characters of the nineteenth century, and the merry Mark did not mean this as a joke. He had had more than one interview with Helen Keller and has been most pro foundly impressed by her remarkable achievements. Miss Keller has writ ten of our genial American humorist: "I love Mark Twain—who does not? The gods, too, loved him, and put into his'heart all manner of wisdom; then, fearing least he should become a pes simist, they spanned his mind with a rainbow of lov.3 and faith." Such men as Phillips Brooks. Ed ward Everett Hale, John G. Whittier, Oliver Wendell Holmes, Joseph Jeffer son and other notables have found de light in meeting Helen Keller, and she has amazed and delighted them by the wonderful scope of her mind. This blind and deaf girl has learned to operate an ordinary typewriter with ease and perfect accuracy. She has learned to solve difficult geometrical problems with bits of wire because it Is, of course, Impossible for her to see the geometrical figures drawn on the blackboard for the rest of her class. Her sensitive fingers have had to take the place of eyes and cars. The limitations put upon her by the loss of sight and hearing have not daunt ed nor dismayed her courageous cpirlt, and the day on which she receives her diploma at the close of her college career will be an epoch in the history of educational achievements in our country. Conk I.mly Held the Fort, Mrs. Charles Johnson, of New Haven, Conn., engaged a comely cook in New York, and she proved a jewel in her line. On the fourth day in her new home she paralyzed her mistress by falling in an eplieptic fit. On re covering, the cook stated that she waR subject to them. Mrs. Johnson said the girl must leave the house. The lat ter declared that as she had been en gaged for a month, she was determined, to stay. All persuasion having been useless to dislodge her, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson sought a temporary home at a hotel, leav ing the cook in possession for a month. is Mast Carl Their llalr. Traveling beauties never take pas sage on an ocean steamer without a spirit lamp, to heat their curling tongs. This practice imperils the ship, through danger of fire. One of the big steamship lines has fitted every state room on Its vessels with an electric apparatus for heating the curling tongs. go Raee Suicide Hera. The family of Andrew Vandervliet, of Passaic. N. J., increases more rapid ly than his salary. He has been mar ried ten years, and has ten children. The last eight were born In pair*, STARTLING THEORY. Dr. Alfred ItuMfl Wallace An That Karlh la at Center of the Uulverae. • ancea Dr. Alfred Russel Wallace, of Lon don, had already celebrated his eigh tieth birthday anniversary last Jan uary when he put forth a new idea that surprised the scientific world al most as greatly as the tremendous theory of natural selection—the Dar winian theory—which Dr. Wallace and Charles Darwin discovered independ ently of each other almost half a cen tury ago. The famous old scientist's new theory' is that the earth is at exactly the center of the universe, and that the whole scheme of creation was evi dently planned for the purpose of pro ducing man. Some of-the old theo logians have always maintained this, but Dr. Wallace arrived at the idea quite independent of theology. When his first announcement of his discov ' i 3 ly; / Si-. DR. ALFRED R. WALLACE. (He Believe# That Earth Is at Center of the Universe.) ery was made a few months ago scien tists in all quarters of the globe aroso forthwith and smote him hip and thigh. They said it was all nonsense, just as they had said it was madness to suppose man had descended from monkeys—which was the popular way of describing the doctrine put forth by Dr. Wallace and Darwin, and now almost universally accepted. Dr. Wallace was living in one of tho remote Moluccas islands in 1858 and suffering from a violent attack of fever when the idea of the law of natural selection burst upon him. Fever or no fever, he could not rest until he had worked it out and put it upon paper. He sent it off to his friend Darwin to ask him what he thought of it, little dreaming that his letter would be a thunderbolt to Darwin. Dr. Wallace, who, at the age of 80, Is setting forth on one of the greatest scientific battles of his life, has always been a tremendous worker. He began to earn a living at the age of 25 as a land surveyor, but soon turned his attention to natural history, setting forth to the Amazon on a scientific expedi tion, and going later to the Malay archipelago, where he was when he hit upon Darwin's great idea. He lectured in America 17 years ago anil has written many books that take high rank in scientific research. EMPEROR IS REVERED. Ruler of Japan I stunTlj- linn III* Own Way in TIiIiikn ('ereiuonlul Political. nnd Although Japan has in the last 30' years become a modern, civilized na tion, it still retains many of its ancient supersitions. The pomp of monarchy has not become obsolete with the changes in the practical government. But the emperor of Japan is not a mere puppet; he has real power. "Japan, our New Ally," by Mr. Alfred Stead, gives an account of the emperor's posi tion. In 1900 there was a majority of four fifth against a scheme of extra taxa tion, which was then before the house of peers. The emperor sent word that lie wanted the bill passed, and the op position voted for it unanimously. Everyone reveres the emperor, which is good in a monarchy wisely governed, and, what is not so good, he is still surrounded with superstitions anil yt < / THE EMPEROR OF JAPAN. (He Is Looked Upon with Awe ana Respect by Ills Subjects.) ceremonies not quite in Keeping with the western character of the new Ja pan. Last year Marquis Ito, the great est of living Japanese, prounced a fun eral oration in the temple over his colleague, Mr. murdered political Hoshl. The next day several of the newspa pers, in a party spirit, denounced him for having gone immediately into tho presence of the emperor in the gar ments which he had worn at the fun eral. In November of each year the em peror gives a garden party. Many of the members of the old regime gather up the soil where his chdir has rested and take It away, believing it to be a cure for all ailments. Other guest* take away portions of the food pro vided by the emperor, as things too sacred to eat, and preserve them in the holiest place in the house. The emperor rarely goes out. When he does, he is attended in his carriage by one of two jold gentlemen, who alone enjoy this privilege. The at tendant sits opposite, and does not venture to lift his eyes to look at tho emperor. He has a large palace, and is known as "the ana* who drive* with the emperor,*'