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THE TUPELO JOURNAL
PUBLISHED WEEKLY. TUPELO, s • : MISSISSIPPlT* good enough if you sing. % _ Let your heart be happy; Pretty KO0ll world of ours! y l®bty of joy and contentment. Plenty of sunlight and flowers; Love enough here for the millions; Share it wherever it's found, And sing till a great, gladsome chorus Re-echoes the world around. May be that fortune has shunned you; Just thlvk It Is better gone by, And spring to your feet where you’re sighing, And carol a song to the sky. Sing! There's a sun in the heavens! Help it to brighten the day; ^lng. and the world will be better, And roses will bloom by the way. Sing, for you know it s contagious; Others will join In your song, Regetting the love and the laughter That carries this old world along; All nature around you will hum It, While beacons of goodness will swing Out from the gloom of the darkness— R’s a good enough world If you sing. George R. Harrison. In Chicago Inter Oeeaf ' . o^o^omo | FLOOD-TIDE, j By Helen M. Givens. § O*0*0»0«0«0«0«0 NORWOOD had tramped over San Francisco, unsuccessfully seek ing employment from sunrise to sun set. lie had been out of the hospital only a few days, and when he paused before an evil-looking eating-house on the water front, he felt too spent and disheartened to enter. Exactly ~0 cents stood between him and star vation. He jingled it mechanically, and watched a dissipated-looking cat making toilet in an angle of the wall. The heaviest fog of the season hong over the bay and fell incessantly in small rain and mist. At last a drunk en man, roaring out the refrain of a popular coon-song as he staggered heavily on. roused Norwood, and he entered the restaurant and gave a ten-eent order. In spite of appren ticeship at the county hospital, his weakened stomach revolted at the quality of the food; but the warmth revived him a little, and he lingered until he drew the notice of the surly proprietor. “See here, young fellow,” said that worthy, roughly, “you’d better move on. This ain’t a Salvation army bar racks. We don't give lodgin’ with a ten-eent show-down.” Norwood wondered bitterly if there were lower depths he hud not sound ed, as he paid his score and struck out aimlessly through the fog. When the great ferry building loomed up in front of him he was shivering again, and he entered the Sausalito waiting room. A sign conspicuously posted assured him that loafers would not be tolerated, so he invested his re maining capital in a ticket, and, for tified by this badge of respectability, assumed a position near a heater. On account of the fog the boats were not moving on schedule time, and there was a long delay. When at last the gates opened. Norwood found himself entering with the crowd. His body moved of its own volition, with out conscious guidance of his mind, and he had a feeling of aloofness, as though he passed through the scenes of a dream. It was high tide, and with the sound of the little waves snapping at the piles the idea of ending his misery entered his mind for the first time. He had made a brave fight against odds; he had worked at anything his hands found to do; but the curricu lum of his eastern college had done little toward training his eye for ma terial heights, and when Fate had al lowed him to make a misstep on some scaffolding his ribs had mended soon er than his spirit. The fog-horn still clamored, al though the mist had lifted a little. Norwood reflected that about the middle of the bay, when the wet decks were empty, he could slip over the side and out of existence as easily as though he had never felt that life had a great deal to offer to him. In the meantime he still craved warmth, and he followed the crowd into the cabin and found a corner near the door. A moment later, two women, one elderly, the other young, good-look ing and with an air of quiet distinc tion, seated themselves opposite. From time to time snatches of their conversation reached the young man. The elder woman was nervous at the prospect of crossing in the fog—the younger tried to reassure her. When the boat started, the girl moved to look out of the window, and her purse, that after the careless fashion of women, she held in her lap. slid to the floor. As Norwood restored it to her she looked at him keenly, evidently struck by the contrast be tween his manner and unkempt and haggard appearance. He wondered dully what she would do if she could realize that her well-filled purse held the price of a human life. A momen tary impulse to tell her so and throw himself on her generosity straggled through his mind. Something in the level glance of the brown eyes told him it would not be in vain. But when pride pushes itself into the place of the intellect, it is apt to de generate into obstinacy, so Norwood held his peace. Having made a mess of his life, he would abide by the con sequences. During his last night on earth a condemned man may lose conscious ness. Norwood must have dozed for a moment. He was awakened by a shock that threw him violently on his knees, and seemed to lift the boat out of the water. Flinging out his hands so save himself, he clutched a soft leathern object, and still grasping it, lurched to his feet as a white-faced deckhand ran through the cabin cry ing, “There’s been a collision! The boat’s sinking!” Instantly the wildest panic prevail ed. The veneer of civilization, more or less thin, cracked: cowardice, brutality and weakness appeared. Struggling men blocked the entranc es; they gashed their hands on the windows; they even piled up ugainst the partitions like trapped and sav age animals. Shrieking women and children ran from side to side of the cabin. An immense negro, jammed half in, half out, a shattered window, contributed the element of grotesque ness, as he gesticulated frantically, filling the air with alternate prayers and curses. With lieath at hand, Norwood ceased to desire it. Springing toward an exit, he remembered the two wo men and returned. The girl, who was trying to raise the elderly woman to her feet, looked at him appealingly. “My mother’s heart is weak,” she said hurriedly. “The shock has brought, on an attack—l can't move her.” “Just a moment,” cried Norwood. “Don’t stir from here, and I'll see what can be done.” When he gained the slippery deck he found order coming out of chaos, through the nerve of the officers and the calmness of some of the passen gers. Boats were lowered, but only to pick up a few progressive spirits who in the first panic had seized life preservers and thrown themselves in to the water. Lines had been cast from one steamer to another, lash ing them together; and men, working like madmen—or heroes—were quick ly passing the women and children to safety over the rail. Norwood ran back. As the girl turned her white face mutely toward him he felt a glow of admiration for her self-control. “All right,” he said, encouragingly. “There’s no danger. Are you strong enough to help me, lift her?” She nodded, and together they raised the almost unconscious woman. She was no light weight, and Norwood was still weak, but they succeeded in half-leading, half-carrying her on ucck. i ne uoomeu steamer was rapid ly settling, anil the water was running into the cabin when they left it. Nor wood shouted to the deckhands who were beginning to cast off the lines, and a dozen brawny arms lifted the women to the opposite deck. The men followed, and almost im mediately the boat they had left plunged, bow first, and, with a rush through the blackness, disappeared. As the girl had been drawn over the rail after her mother, there was a cry of “Why, Dorothy! Dorothy Moore!” Instantly the two were the center of an excited and solicitous group, and Norwood went below. He was among the first to land when the boat entered the slip, but he lingered on the outskirts of the throng until the face he looked for appeared. Although occupied with her mother, the girl’s eyes more than once roved eagerly over the crowd,i and, with a quickened beating of his heart, Norwood felt instinctively that she searched for him. The idea cheered him—he felt less friendless; yet he kept out of sight until they en tered a carriage and were driven away. The events of the past few hours had aiided no brilliancy to Norwood's prospects; nevertheless, as he turned toward Market street, he no longer felt life to be an unprofitable episode disturbing the blessed calm of non existence. He exulted in the mere fact that his will controlled his move ments—that he was not a thing for the sport of the waves; and squaring his shoulders to the wind, he thrust his hands deeply into his shabby pockets. With an astonished start he drew them out again. Dangling to one finger by a glittering chain was a little purse of gray suede—the kind women affect. For a moment he looked at it in bewilderment—then memory stung him. He had twice [licked it up, once to restore it to its rightful owner—the second time to pocket it himself. In the excitement lie had forgotten'it. Opened, it re vealed the unaccustomed glitter of gold and silver, and at the sight Nor wood realized how famished he was. He transferred some of the silver to a breast-pocket, replaced the purse, anil boarded an uptown car. Some hours later, warmed, fed, and loom and made an inventory. The purse contained $40 in gold, some sil \er. and, attached to a bit of ribbon, a little silver Filipino coin. A card in scribed with Miss Moore’s name in full and a number on California street offered every facility for the return of his treasure-trove. That night the young man was too worn out for reflection, but over his breakfast the next morning he re solved to break a commandment—and the gold—clothe himself decently, make a fresh start in life, and in time liquidate his indebtedness to Miss Dorothy Moore. Perhaps his lane had neared a turn, for a few days afterward he se cured a small clerkship in a wholesale house; but so very small was the clerkship that several months had elapsed before the purse assumed its former comfortable proportions. In the meantime, with security against the necessities of the hour, youth reasserted itself, and quickened with the never-satisfied longing after the happiness it claims as its birth light. An illusory picture—born of a dream and shaped by fancy—in which Dorothy Moore was the central figure, occupied much of his thoughts. He assured himself that some reason was due her for the detention of her prop erty during so long a period, and wasted considerable time and station ery in attempting to give one. With out an,\ conscious wish to stir her imagination or awaken her interest, his few unsigned words of thanks and explanation yet revealed mor!: of his darkest hour than he was aware. In them were sufficient food for curiosi ty and smypathy—sworn enemies to forgetfulness. Of his reason for re taining the little Filipino coin he gave no hint. A week later a chance paragraph in a newspaper informed him that Dorothy and her mother had gone to New York and might shortly sail for Europe. In the three years that followed, Norwood’s success pointed the words of the poet: "There is a tide in the affairs of men Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.” In the various turnings of his lane, he made many acquaintances and a few friends, who occasionally drew him, unwillingly enough, out of the loutine of business into the social pleasures of his age and kind. So it chanced that one evening, watching his opportunity to say good-night to his hostess and escape from a crowd ed dance, he looked across the shoul ders of the throng and intercepted the level glance of a pair of brown eyes. Norwood promptly changed his farewell to a petition, and five min utes later lie was saying to the owner of the eyes, “Let me take, you'out of this crush. There is a corner near that window where air is a possibili ty.” “I know your name well, Mr. Nor wood,” said Dorothy Moore. “Cousin .lack has so often mentioned you in his letters.” “Jack and 1 were old college friends,” he replied, "but I had lived here two years before I ran across him again.” “What puzzles me,” the girl went on, “is that your face is familiar, too. It struck me when I first saw you a few moments ago—and yet I know we have never met before.” “Once,” he said, “three years ago.” “Why, I—is it possible? I didn't know-” “That at our first meeting l was tempted to beg from you—and later on did worse—applied your property to my own needs—or, to be plain, stole from you?” questioned Nor wood. She made a movement of astonish ment, and her fan slid from her lap. As the young man bent to restore it, something in his attitude or gesture brought recollection in a flood. Doro thy paled, then flushed crimson. “It can’t be true,” she began, then stopped, watching with fascinated eyes while he took from his breast pocket a case, and held out his hand. On the palm lay a little silver Filipino “And you are really, really that poor hoy?” she cried impulsively. "No wonder your face haunted me. Oh, why did you never let us know— when we owed you so much?” Norwood’s eyes roved from her eager face to the bit of silver. “I should like to return it to you,” he said, irrelevantly. “It has been a veritable mascot, yet at times a source of sharp misery.” “Why do you say that? It sounds dreadfully like a riddle, and 1 was never good at guessing them,” said the girl, holding out her hand for the coin. As her soft fingers touched Nor wood’s palm, his own closed over them, and he replied, “Because it might have been the gift of a——” “Friend?” she supplemented, de murely, as he hesitated. He tightened his clasp. "It could be the gift of a-lover,” he insisted. “Oh, hush!” murmured Dorothy, rising. “Some one is looking,” Then she aded, “But come and see us to morrow—and don’t forget to bring the—coin.”-—Ledger Monthly. A TENNESSEE MOONSHINER. Brief Description of n Typical Specimen of the Tribe and His Home. He was some six feet tall, but his shoulders stooped, and he looked less the mountain bad man than the bro ken-down farmer, says Leonidas Hub bard, Jr., in Atlantic. His hair had been coal black, but plentiful white streaks were making their advent. Apparently it had not been combed for days, for it stuck out in mats and tangles from under the edges of his frayed and ragged black felt hat. His beard was short and scrubby, grizzled like his hair. His eves were bluish gray, and when he spoke there was a look in them which I have seen in the eyes of more than one politi cian-—a look whieh says, "I know you and you know me, and you know I'm telling things whieh are not true, be cause it is part of my business to do so.” Much-worn suspenders fastened by nails, held up a pair of threadbare black trousers. A dark calico shirt hung open in front displaying a sun browned chest. When the man walked it was with a decided limp, the residt of wearing manacles in an Alabama chain gang. rhe cabin had one room. In one end was an immense stone fireplace, and on either side of this a loophole or window some six by eight inches in area. There were no other win dows than these, and there was about the whole interior a gloominess which might prove disconcerting to an offi cial coming suddenly in from the sun ny outside. A table leaned against one wall, and over this was a shelf on which stood half a dozen quart bot tles, some tin cans and a few dishes. In the end opposite the tireplaee were two beds. At the head of one stood a brace of repeating rifles, a Marlin and a Winchester, so placed as to be within easy reach of the sleeper. The walls were as bare as the floor save for the wings and tails of some half dozen wild turkeys which hung about from nails and pegs. Spoiled the Dok. “I don't think there ever was such an unfortunate individual as 1 am,” growled Short as he flung himself down on the couch. “It does not mat ter what I try to do, something is sure to upset my plans.” “It is like that with some people,” remarked Long, sympathetically. “What is it this time?” “Why, as I reached the door Black came up and bullied me because my dog had bitten out a piece of his leg.” “I don’t quite see where the misfor tune comes in for you. You won’t have to pay compensation; it’s the dog’s first bite. It seems to me that the misfortune-” “You don’t understand at all,” re joined Short, savagely. “I’ve brought that dog up from a pup as a proof that dogs can live on a vegetarian diet, and just as I am attaining my object, the dog gets hold of a piece of meat. It’s enough to make a man use bad language. Why on earth did that idiot go and put his leg in the dog’s way?”—London Answers. One Thing Familiar. Oliver Hereford was at the Boston club one day when an enthusiastic in dividual clapped him on the back with a “Hello, old fellow!” Mr. Hereford coldly surveyed the stranger who, somewhat abashed, said: “Why, don’t you know me?” “No,” was the reply, “I don’t know your face, but your manners are familiar.”—N. Y. Commercial. i . ~ • “ i GEN. JACKSON’S BATTLE WITH THE SEMINOLE INDIANS. Find “Billy Bowlegs.” . Gen. Jackson entered Florida to suppress the Seminole Indians in March, 1818. He occupied the Spanish post of St. Marks, and marched to the Indian town of Suwanee, where he hoped to catch the Seminole leader, Billy Bowlegs, but in this was not successful. He next captured the Span ish colonial capitol at Pensacola, and declared the whole territory under American rule. Spain protested against his actions, and he was officially censured, though the territory he had acquired by force of arms was never again occupied by Spain, and was officially transferred in -February, 1815, though it was not until October, 1820, that the treaty was ratified by the Spanish crown. SCHOOL AND CHURCH. Beginning next summer, the Uni versity of Zurich will provide a course of lectures on journalism, political and general. Orders have been issued to the Rus sian police to forbid the sale or use of phonograph rollers for the repro duction of sacred music. Episcopal laymen, including .F. Pier pont Morgan and Senator Hanna, are raising a million dollars for mission ary work among the Philippines. A bicycling scholarship is to be es tablished at- Birmingham university by the British bicycling clubs as a memorial to J. K. Starley, of Coventry, who introduced the safety model. The scholar must study road locomotion. Half the $S.OOO needed has been raised. Mr. Ylok, the Dutch minister at Piquetberg, South Africa, who was compelled to retire from his pastorate on account of his loyal attitude during the war, has been presented with an address and the sum of ill,000, raised by public subscription. Sport is apparently not considered a necessary element in "a French schoolboy’s education. A fiat has just gone forth from the director general . f ^ t. 1 . . ... 1. . t j'_1 * ,11._. masters to allow their pupils to play leap frog, football, rounders, tops, hopscotch and other games. It is probably a fact known only to comparatively few people that- there is in Ireland a branch of the Methodist (or Wesleyan) body, which has always remained in full communion with the Church of England in accordance with the will of their founder. John Wesley. This body is known as the “Church Methodist society.” Bishop Coleman, of Delaware, goes on a tramp through the mountains of West Virginia every summer and of course has many odd experiences. Last summer, clad in old and dust-cov ered clothes, he entered an inn where several mountaineers sat talking. One of them, with characteristic hospital ity. invited him to take a drink, but the bishop courteously declined. “Do you eat hay?” said the native. “Why, no, my friend,” said the stranger, wonder ingly. “Then,” said the mountaineer, with scorn, “I don’t think you are fit company for man or beast. Come, boys, let’s take something.” Had Spelling;. When was the last spelling book pub lished? Have our youth outgrown the use of that once important text book? It would seem oftentimes, from their ignorance of the rules of spelling and their arrangement of the letters in words, that they disdained the practice of good orthography. It is all very well to talk about some people being natural spellers and some being poor spellers. There are faults of ear which are hard to overcome; but eyes can be trained to correct these faults; and de cent spelling under all circumstances, at least from every graduate of the grammar grade, should be demanded. It is a fact of observation, explain it how you will, that pupils-who have tak en prizes for scholarship in grammar schools of good standing cannot write a letter free of blunders in spelling; another fact, that pupils in high schools, remarkably well read for their years, are guilty of gross errors in spelling; still another, that pupils who have the wit and brains and style to write a charming letter, misspell abom inably; and yet another, that boys seeking entrance to colleges of first rank, able to pass examinations in mathematics and science, spell after the fashion of “witch.”—Boston Tran script. Loudon Traffic. London is frightfully antiquated in its traffic; and the Parisian, the Dub liner or the New Yorker is stirred to amazement when he sees the people contentedly accepting conditions which prevail in no other big city. We thing the great railway companies are largely to blame for the congestion of traffic. The links between the lines north and south of the Thames, and east and west also, are very defective, and the result is that a huge cross-city goods traffic results.—Dublin Irish Cyclist. Ftahea from Volcanoca. The vomiting of fishes from volca noes is no new experience, and it seems more startling than mysteri ous. M. J. Girridin* explains that in the interval between the eruptions— often a century or more—the craters become filled with fish-stocked lakes and the next eruption blows out the I water and its contents.—Albany Ar ««*• HUMOROUS. Polly—“She says that her face is her fortune.” Dolly—“She must mean her misfortune.”—Baltimore Herald. Basis of Comparison.—“Is he so ig norant, then?” “Ignorant! Why, say! he’s so ignorant and behind the times that they took him on a murder jury in a sensational case.”—Chicago Post. “V\ hat becomes of your defeated po litical candidates, colonel? Do you relegate them to the rear?” “No, sir; they all take the lecture platform and get rich telling how it happened.”—At lanta Constitution. Proper Treatment.—Mrs. Goodman —“You don’t mean to say you threw hot water on her when she fainted?” Mrs. McSlug—“Av coorse. We wor havin’ a bit av a foight, an’ ’twas w id a brick that she feinted.”—Philadelphia Press. An Kmpty Assurance.—“He says he d share liis last dollar with me.' es,” said the man who looks at things coldly; “but he is a man who will take precious good care never to get down to his last dollar.”—Wash ington Star. Solving a Problem.—-George—“Wom en are still pushing their way into ali industries.” Jack—“That’s so. I have just, been discharged to make way foi a woman.” “You have? Well! What are you going to do now?” “I am try ing to marry the woman.”—Washing ton Times. CHINESE MAGIC LANTERNS. How the Instrument* of the Celes tials Differ from Those In l»e in This Country. The magic lantern, like porcelain, gun-powder and printing, may have been an invention of the Chinese. Tor more than 20 centuries it has been a staple amusement in the Celestial em pire and has been developed into many forms unknown to the Occident, says the New York Post. The middle king dom, which has been well termed topsy-turvy land, uses the magic lan tern in just the opposite manner from what we do, having the light and pic ture behind the screen, the same as in our parlor amusement of shadow graphs. The commonest form of the magic lantern in the extreme orient is a large box supported on a tripod or four-legged table. The box is about four feet wide by two high, and its front is made of ground glass, oiled silk, or oiled white paper. Over the box is a light frame work of bamboo and cloth, which reaches to the ground and conceals the opera tor from the audience, but leaves the glass exposed to view. A powerful lamp in front of a concave reflector throws a strong light upon the glass or screen as the case may be. The top of the box and sides are half open to permit the introduction of small fig ures. This arrangement gives four distinct classes of instruments. With „n r __ .•_u__ .. i i . . . ivui umuuiuvmo, l JIC CA1IIUU1U1KS are given in the streets, squares and market places. They draw audiences ranging from five to 30, and give an entertainment of from five to 13 min utes in length. Each spectator is sup posed to contribute one cash, or a twentieth of a cent, when the hat is passed around. Generous or enthus iastic patrons frequently give from ten to 15 cash, so that the average performance nets the proprietor about two cents. This seems ridiculous to Americans, but in a land where an able-bodied man can be hired for five cents a day, the owner of a successful magic lantern is looked upon as a very well-to-do individual. One of these “shows” recently made its appearance in Mott street, the owner of it, an ex laundryman from Canton, making in and about Chinatown and the bowerj from a dollar to a dollar and a half per day. The little plays, which are written about the magic figures are as conven tional as our own immortal Punch and Judy. The “wicked tiger” depicts the career of a dissolute animal who from killing pigs, dogs and buffaloes, finally eats a beautiful maiden and is slain by a Mongolian chief in full armor on horseback. “The wicked wife” forms a compact with the devil, squanders her husband’s substance in riotous liv ings, and in the last scene hangs her self in a blaze of red fire, while the evil one expresses wild joy in extra ordinary oriental gesticulations. “The cruel magician,” “the grateful drag on,” “the fairy foxes,” and other bits of eastern folklore afford brief sketches, which are as familiar as household words. 1 WHISTLE IT DOWN. Whistle It dow n, my bonn<e lad. The anger that rises hot; You never will grieve at set of sun For the harsh words uttered not. Think of some pleasant thing, my boy; Don't stop to sulk or frown; If evil thoughts leap up to your lips, Just whistle, whistle them down. Whistle as loud as ever you can, Outwblstle yon merry bird; It’s 'queer, but ne’er from a whistling Up Comes an angry, petulant word. Don’t let them out of your Ups, my boy— Those thoughts unfit to own; They’ll soon give place to purer ones If you whistle them bravely down. —Eva Williams Malone, in Atlanta Consti tution. _ AN OLD-TIME “POUND.” Description and Picture of One of tbe Few Still Standing In the Xesv England Staten. Our ancestors had a great many unique customs, reminders of which have come down to tis in the shape of an old-fashioned church here, the re mains of a grist mill run by wind power there, and (to come at once to the point of this article), the ancient “pound” which is shown in the accompanyingil lustration. This relic of past days was discovered by little Miss Spry Eyes, as the writer and his family were riding down through the southern part of Maine to the sea-coast that has become so famous as a summer camping and of many of the middle states. Miss Spry Eyes’ discovery proved to .be a circular pen of rough rocks high up in a hillside pasture, with an open ing on the side nearest the road. “A ‘pound!’ an old-fa9liioned ‘pound!’” cried the rest of the party, though not one had ever seen such a structure before. It was short work tohitch the horses by the roadside and clamber up the hill side to the well-preserved old monu ment of our ancestors' rigid views con cerning civic duties. The pen was perhaps 20 feet across and eight or nine feet high. It had evi dently been made of the rough rocks that were everywhere in evidence in the vicinity. That the work had been carefully done was evidenced by the well-preserved walls, which must have withstood the effects of at least a hun ■'a • 1 AN OLD POUND IN MAINE. dred and twenty-five winters. It was certainly intended that when an ani mal had been lawfully “impounded,” neither the animal should escape nor his owner be able to liberate the pris oner until the pound-keeper’s fees had been paid; so thoroughly was the wall and well-ironed door, or gate, con structed. The “pound” in question is the only vine known to the writer to be still standing in the Pine Tree state, though there may be others in remote places that have not been visited by him. They certainly are very rare in New England, though common enough in the old days when every town had its pound and its pound-keeper, to which and to whom were driven all “horses, asses, mules, sheep, goats and swine” that anyone might find wander ing upon the highway or trespassing upon his premises. The keeper of the pound who was annually elected at the March “town rneet'n,” was obliged to receive all animals brought to him, whether actually caught trespassing, or wandering at large, and it doubtless often happened that animals were driven to the pound out of pure spite, but the pound-flbeper could not take cognizance ofjjhis. even though he might suspec* U. Ilis duty was to keep the animals iirtmstody until their own ers should settle according to law. The pound did not go as soon as some of the other customs that were brought across the water, but the prac tice of impounding cat tle began finally to die out, and the old stone orwoodeu structures to fall into ruin. But a curious thing happened. Though the custom fell into disuse, the practice of electing a pound-keeper at each annual town meeting has been retained in many towns in New England to the present day. In not a few towns when the more serious matters have been disposed of. nominations are in order for the office of pound-keeper, fence viewer, hog-reeve (whose duties would seem to encroach somewhat upon the prerogatives of the pound keeper!) and various other offices, the choosing of suitable persons to fill which seems to afford the voters much merriment. This may be all very trivial, but yet I am glad to see that some at least of the many traditions of which New Eng land life has been so full, are dying hard. I hope the old pound that is shown in the cut will endure for an other hundred years to evoke memo ries of the old days of New England— days that have had no little influence on the subsequent life of the nation.— Webb Donnell, in Country Gentleman. Fortune Left to Brara. One of the leading officials in the ministry of justice of the Canton Berne has recently made a singular bequest, leaving the bulk of his large fortune to the bears in the Zoological gardens for their permanent keep. It was hoped that the legacy would have been vetoed by the council of state, but it has been officially sanctioned. Klngr Haa Kamea to Barn. The king of Spain is of all sovereigns the one with the largest assortment of names. They are: Alfonso Leon Ferdinand Marie Jacques Isidor Pascal Martial Antoine. % THE SEA CUCUMBER. (taper Marine Animal to He Foand In the Water* Uettveen Aala and Australia. The sea cucumber is a most curioU3 looking animal. It owes its name to its queer shape, which is not unlike that of a cucumber with a bunch of leaves at one end. They are found in all seas, but particularly between Asia and Australia and the lied sea. The sea cucumber is covered with a tough, leathery skin, and some of them look black and wrinkled, appearing as if they had been made out of the upper leather of old shoes; but many of the tropical species have splendid colors and are among the creatures which make the bottom of the sea gay and lovely as a garden. The sea cucumber is generally about a foot long when reposing, but can extend itself several times that length. The Chinese are very fond of thi3 little creature. They make them into a rich soup and also stew them in va rious ways. A large trade is carried on in these strange products of the sea. They are prepared for the mar ket by being carefully opened and cleansed, laid in lime and then dried either in the sun or over wood tires.— Girls’ Companion. THOSE AMUSING KIDS. Former New York School Teacher Re call* Some Rather Delightful Experience*. “Little children are the most misun derstanding, as well as the most mis understood, people in the world,” said a young matron who before her mar riage had been a school-teacher, to a New York Times reporter; “they are blamed and often scolded for inatten tion and carelessness for failing to do a task right when oftentimes the fault has been entirely that of the teacher who has not been clear in directions. “Still, children, especially, I think, boys, can manage to make blunders without undue aid. I remember a boy when 1 was teaching, one David Perl, a precocious child of the slums, who came to me one day and said he could repeat the whole of Barbara Frietche without a mistake. “He had learned it in the grade pre ceding mine, and I thought that it would be a treat for my own children to hear him recite the poem. So David stood up before his admiring and en vious friends and began. “Such a ten minutes I never went through before or since as those which followed. What a string of gibberish rolled from that child's lips! Here, as I took it down immediately afterward, is one of the verses of Whittier’s poem in David’s version: " ‘Up from der redder which wid corn, Clear in de cool September morn, De custard pies of Frederic-tan, Green hailed by de spills of Maryland Round about dem ocids weep, Apple an’ peach tree fluted deep, Faiir as a garden of de Lord, To de eyes of de fashioned rabbi ord!’ “By the time he had finished I. was nearly strangled with suppressed laughter, but 1 managed to praise hint and he told me proudly that he said the poem ‘most every night, down at de hotel,’ when he went there with his papers, and he added, ‘dey give me pennies, too.’ “That performance of David’s set me thinking, and one day I thought I would test the children on their abil ity to remember correctly a new poem, or, rather, a verse from one. So 1 read from ‘Old Ironsides:’ “ ‘Aye, tear her tattered ensign down, Long has it waved on high!’ “I got many curious papers, but the queerest, I think, was this one: “ ‘I tear her tattered insides out Long as she waved on I.’ ’’ v INDIAN VOW MAKER. He Had Thing* All HI* Own Way Un til the White Man Regan Mak ing Vow*, Too. Many anecdotes show that Indians have not been wanting in calculation and cunning in their dealings with i.tIiWo rtannlp TnrlpnH f ha nnlpfnfp -- I A ’ *• although superior in intelligence and education, is often obliged to look very sharp in order not to become the dupe of the crafty red man. In “The Des erts of North America” this anecdote is related: An Indian, after hearing a preacher speak from the text: “Make vows to Heaven and keep them,” went up to the preacher after the sermon and said: “I have made a vow to go to your house.” The minister was a little surprised, but he smiled and said: “Well, keep your vow.” On arriving at the house the Indian seated himself, and after a time re marked: “1 have made a vow to sup with you.” This was also granted, but when, after supper, the Indian an nounced: “I have made a vow to sleep in your house,” the minister began to fear that there would be no end to the vows of his attentive auditor. “That is easy to do, and you should keep your vow,” he said. “I will give you a bed. But,” he added, “I have made a vow that you shail leave to morrow morning.” The Indian nodded. “Good!” he said. “Yon make my vows come true; so I make your vow come true.” And the next morning he went away in good humor. Anta Hold Converaatlona. Ants can talk! A gentleman experi menting with one of the new instru ments, which magnifies small sounds as the microscope does small objects, dist inctly heard the voices of a number of ants placed under a glass cup from which they could not escape. At first there was but a faint whispering sound, which, soon as they realized their situation and ran wildly around the edge of the glass, increased t<» what might have been an angry roar to them. These little voices are not audible to our coarse sense of hearing.