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Ballad of Pleasant Thoughts.
Don't let us talk of wretchedness. Don't let us wallow in our woe, .gu't let us drivel o'er dis're.s, `"D't let us wander to and fro 6 Amid the mire and mud below, But let us rise on joyful wings anto the golden sunlight's glow; Tat's think and talk of pleasant things! Don't let us clamor for redress: Dce't let us deem a soul our foe; sIstead of cursing, let us bless; And never let us gloat or crow o'er some one's trouble; let us show What perfect peace our viewpoint brings To all who after goodness go; Lat's think and talk of pleasant things' Iet's talk of trouble less and less; To sanger let us be more slow; ft's strive more patience to possess. And more compassionate let's grow; A cheerful word or smile bestow, And you can quell the scorn that stings; This duty to ourselves we owe: Lst's think and talk of pleasant things! ENVOI: Ho! mortal men and women, ho! Hark to the song a minstrel sings! IU aught of happiness you'd know Let's think and talk of pleasant things! Harold Susman in "Success Magazine." A DWELLER IN GLASS HOUSES BY ALICS LOUISE LES, Mrs. Drew sat at the head of her breakfast table and pressed her lips imly together. When Mrs. Drew pressed her lips together things al ways happened. "Mrs. White ought So know." Mrs. Drew looked hard at a newspaper opposite. "Um-hum!" came a vague assent from behind the paper barricade. "If our son did a thing like 'hat, I should thank some one to tell me," pursued Mrs. Drew. "M'm-m!" still more vaguely from the opposite side of the table, while "oar son," aged ten, kept his eyes deecrously on his plate, quite accus "'Med to hearing his virtues referred "An insult to the aged ought to be severely punished," reasoned Mrs. Drew. "Tommy White deserves a Alipping that he will remember. I, Iwr ae, believe that to spare the rod I to spoil the child. If Mrs. White hald more firmly to that opinion, aa'd have boys who were not a dis awe to the town." Willie Drew, quite accustomed also to hearing the si6s of his playmates reviewed, still fastening his eyes on lka plate, felt with his foot for the at's tail under the table. At the foot of the table Mr. Drew, present in body but absent in mind, aid, "Um-hum!" again, and began likinag up the price of flour and ker same. He knew that, despite his wrWe's convictions on the subject of ehild44lalng, the long whip-like iaaches of the weeping willow in their back yard remained intact, whit a corresponding willow in Mrs. Whitts yard, shorn oe much of its gIsfnlneess, suggested the ravages of mtei and the misdeeds of five rugged "Whemever Willie needs a whip ga rest assured he will get one," MIe. Drew often remarked emphati 'ally to friends-the emphasis being 1pqeully noticeable when Mrs. 'White was within hearing. 'I would tell her myself," continu. S44 Ms. Drew, "were it not for the bMt that she resented my reference to the mischief Tommy did on Hal bws'. It seems to me very strange iat amy mother sbould resent being WI of her children's faults when X. hr their interest that ehe should It . I'm sure that I should be glad to be told it our Willie did wrong." " Willi, having succeeded In locat - A the vat's tall, clamped it vigor my with his shoes while he reglrd 4 his mother with large, beguilldg Th m was a momentary yawling ad1 rambllng under the table, fol iroed by a tiger-striped streak shoot Shem beneath Willie's chair into Salsttling-lroom. "Dear me!" cried Wa. Drew, in alarm. "That's the 55ad time within three days that h' has had a fit. She's such a 1tty cat I hate to lose her, .oo. "at as I was saying," she continu 4 "I1 made up my mind then that it wa the last time I would try to 4 Mrs. White with those boys of ans. Still she ought to be told of 4h. Therefore I shall send for Anne S' ." Her lips tightened on the "Asee Tupper?" inquired Mr 8-. w's lips, while his eyes rove! eNr the political reports. *ter was a slight change in the 'iol of Willie's blue eyes as S followed Tabby. .T, I think I can prevail on Anne Stel her. Every one likes Anne, laeially Mrs. Whlte. She'll take 'ta Arn Anne." O. aquhetly Anne was sent for by St of Willie. Willie went reluctant *, He whimknpered and whined. He . flat into one eye--keeping ths lanocent blue orb fixed on Mrs. i "d pleaded a stomachache. S"lP child!" said his mother. "Of se you needn't go, then. I'l step " , ~ and ask Tommy to take the _t Lia Willie looked alarmed, rand his mother took down a bottle the top shelf of the pantry and -I ked for a spoon, Willie recovered & twinkle, scudding away with the lbertfore the bottle could be ua m other looked after him with -ll dtent emile. "Boys will be "she munmured. lshe set hrd well-appoltte·d it order ad awaited Aaa* ir la pressd Irmly togath' er. From the front window she v!ew. ed the five White boys playing soldie'r !a their front yar I. They were rant Sf;n step's In the order of age, twco years" s .,e betwecn succeeding ste:s.-s-n-i were exercising legs and lun;s vi;orously. "O that Tommy!" cried Mrs. Drew, indignantly, aloud. "It seems as though Mrs. White might realize how he acts!" Tommy, exercising his prerogative as general, had kicked the second in command, who promptly kicked back again, whereupon the march turned into a riot, in which Tommy, beset by the rest of the army, got worsted. "And yet there sits Mrs. White, looking out of the window placidly and doing nothing!" ejaculated Mrs. Drew, still more indignantly. "I never saw any one so slack with chil dren. 'Now if Willie-" The entrance of Anne cut the sent ence short, and Mrs. Drew rose to meet her. Mrs. Drew was the kindest of neighbors-except where Mrs. White was concerned. She did not mean to be unkind to Mrs. White. She had simply fallen into the habit of comparing her one blue-eyed, perfec: Willie with the five imperfect boys across the street-especially Tommy who was of Willie's dge. "Of course." she often declared, "Wi!l!e has his faults!" She said it complacently, but with mental reser vations-the rest of the town said the same with neither placidity nor mental reservation. "I felt sure you'd come!" was Mrs. Drew's greeting. "I never knew you to fail a friend." A pleased expression crept into An. ne's eyes as she sat down. Along with the rest of girl-kind, Anne like.l praise. Mrs. Drew seated herself, and fold ing her hands, looked at her guest. Then she uttered an exclamation and leaned forward. "What a becoming new coat, Anne! I've not seen it be fore. I like those stitched bands down the front. Certainly brown is your color." The pleased expression in Anne's eyes deepened. "I like it myself." she answered, briefly. Anne's remarks were generally brief. In church work Mrs. Drew was made chairman of everything, be cause of what she could accomplish through her committees. She had a tactfully compelling way-so her friends said. Others who were not so friendly said she could "wind peo ple up" skilfully. Be that as it may, she proceeded succinctly to lay the case before An. ne, beginning with the generally bad behavior of the five junior Whites. Anne listened attentively. That was Anne's greatest charm. Willie, sit ting behind his mother, also listened attentively, motioning beguilingly at Tabby meanwhile. Narrowing her remarks down to particular misdeeds, Mrs. Drew re ferred to the "doings" on Hallowe'en, especially the destruction of the pic ket fence in front of old Mrs. Smith's house. "You know Tommy was in that," she ended, "and I took it on myself to tell Mrs. White. She didn't thank me for it, and I made up my mind then that no matter what that Tom my did, I would say nothing further. But this thing, Anne, she ought to know." Anne, realizing now the purport of her summons to the Drew house, moved uneasily, and began pleating her handkerchief. Willte, with Tab by almost within reach, neglected his opportunity, and pricked up his ears. "What thing?" Mrs. Drew sat up straight and tap ped the arm of her chair impressive ly. "There was a lady in here yes. terday,-I name no names, Anne, as I am careful not to cause hard feel ings between friends,-but she told me, and I said at once, 'Mrs. White ought to know.' "Know what.' Blked Anne again, smoothing out her handkerchief. Mrs. Drew tapped the arm of the chair. "I was told that Tommy White deliberately walked up behind old Mr. Reffert-poor old, half-blind man that he is!--and knocked his hat into the ditch and ran away!" "Oh!" cried Anne. "Oh!" She lifted wide eyes to her hostess's face. "I knew, Anne," said Mrs. Drew, in a tone of quiet triumph, "that you would be shocked." "Yes!" breathed Anne. "Oh, yes!" Willie, aiming a kick at the cat, fell off his chair at this juncture, and so made hfs presence conspicuous. His mother, out of consideration for Anne's feelings, sent him out to play. "Of course," she remarked, "you would not like Wllie to know what I am going to ask of you, although he never repeats what he hears." "Indeed!" murmured Anne. Mrs. Drew returned to the original subject. "Shouldn't you think, Anne, that any mother would be glad to be told if her boy did such a thing as that?" "Indeed," assented Anne, "I should!" Into her eyes, fastened now on Mrs. Drew's face, crept an expres sion of relief. "And don't you think that such an attack on a old man deserves a se vere punishment ' "Yes," assented Anne, earnestly, "I do." "My dear," Mrs. Drew ceased tap ping on the arm of the chair and sank back with the air of having set tied a vexed question, "I am glad you agree, because I am going to ask you to tell Mrs. White." Anne put out a band suddenly, dropped her handkerchief, and reached for it. "You. girl that you are, can tell her without offense, because she likes you. Every one likes you, Anne-" "But, Mrs. Drew," Anne burst out, "whoever told you didn't tell straight. It-it wasn't Tomnmy! It-I was right behind them-it was Willie who did it!" Mrs. Drew gasped once-twice caught her breath and sat up very stiff. "Willi'!" "Yes," Anne hastened on, the words tumbling out of her mouth. "I al most caught him. I-I th/nk I should have slaken him well if I had!" her tone became reniniscently lidignant. ·I did shake him on Hallowe'ea. Tommy did help take Mrs. Utit&'s tence down.-I was staying with net Sbat night because she was afraid. 3ut Willie was the lea.l-r. 1 cau;ht him and boxed his ear3." "Bofxed hIs ears!" "Yes!" cried Anne. all un- be-rvant cf the expression back of the wor,s "Willie is awfully naughty when he's out of your sight, and to think I never dared tell you," her face was filled with inoredulity, "when here you were really wanting to know all the time!" Anne rose, still unobservantly re lieved and happy. It was often so hard to be a truthful confidante, and this time the path of truth had been made so easy for her! She left a dazed Mrs. Drew strugg ling with her breath and her thoughts. .irs. Drew believed Anne-every cne d4d; and the memory of her own wide-spread comparisons between Willie and Tommy rushed upon her with overwhelming force. For half an hour after Anne's de ,parture she wrestled with her morti fication. Then she turned her atten tion to Willie. With lips pressed firmly together. she visited the flourishing willow in the back yard. Sternly she laid aside the natural desire to select a tiny branch. Sternly she held herself to what she required of M-rs. White, and a few moments later, armed with a tingling switch, she stood in the back door and called loudly, "William! William Drew! Come here at once!" -From Youth's Companion. L'ISLE DES CHIENS. ' The Dogs' Cemetery at Asniere Out side Paris. "Man cher petit Jack je no t'oublier als Jamals." Cut in golden letters upon a massive granite slab these words do not describe the condition of a broken-hearted mother. The in consolable lady mourns her dog whose portrait hangs above the tomb upon which reposes a wreath of purp:e head violets. The laws of France are severe; there can be no trifling with the body of a dead dog, he must be buried somewhere. On no . account must the corpse pollute the waters of the Seine-men are stationed night and day on some of the quays to watch that no unlawful parcels are consign ed to its depths. Many people in Paris live in fiats and it became a custom when the pet dog died to make a cemetery of the Seine, or even of the main sewer, while it was no uncommon thing to see poor Fifine's remains reposing in the gutter awaiting the arrival of the scavenger. People with a house and no garden were known to bury their pets in the cellar in defiance of the laws of hygiene. But now all this is changed. About nine years ago an animal cemetery was formed on business lines and it is now in a flourishing condition. L'Isle des Chiens at Asniere, be yond the northern ramparts of Paris, was originally a boggy piece of land. In former days only a narrow neck of land connected it with the Seine and it was then a haunt of holligans and others wishing for a retired life free from the attentions of the po lice. L'Isle des Ravageurs was its sinister and well-deserved name. A smiling garden has now taken the place of the wildern-ss of brickbats and broken bottles. Shady paths lead- to secluded nooks, the flower beds in summer are a blaze of color and a fountain in the centre mingles the sound of its falling waters with the songs of the birds. Everywhere there are memorials of departed pets. From an ornate Jap anese pagoda in stone with a rusty chain and collar attached to t'.e door post, to a humble piece of wood with only a number or a single name upon it, they are there by hundreds. Some of them are very elaborate. Follette has a small stone house with all the blinds down, "Je to regret terais toujours," says her dlsoonsol ate mistress. Caro rests under a huge block of granite; to judge from his portrait in a glass case at the head of his grave he was a thorough mongrel from the point of view. of breed. "Adieu mon petit wow wow," says Tiny's owner, while Sultan has a son net all to himself, and Poull an acros tic in somewhat halting verse. A large gilt crown and monogram adorn the stone above another Miss. Her aristocratic owner saysr "Elle talt toute ma vie." On many of the graves ar ehung wreaths of dead flowers or bunches of fresh Bowers and leaves. The attendant said that some ladies came regularly once a week with flow ers. In one case a substantial sum was left for a wreath to be hung every week upon the grave of a dog which, acoording to the inscription on the atone, had saved his mistress's child from drowning fifteen years ago. The number of English names upon the graves is striking. I think I counted nine Misses, seven Jacks an.d tIr Bos. Burial in the cemetery is within the means of all. For five francs a dog can be buried in the fosse commune -common grave. The lease of a grave for three years can be bought for 15 francs, and so on up to 100 francs for a thirty years' lease. One of the rules says that all re lgious emblems and anything re semblling human graves is strictly forbidden. At one corner of the cemetery there is a stonemason's yard, where monuments may be in spected and designs obtained. There is a corner for the burial of cats, but poor paussy, as a rule, only has a china effigy sitting in her lit tle "garden," this being presumably considered suffiacient monument. A pathetic little gilt cage hung above the grave of a canary, and a fear some photograph at the head of one grave showed that a monkey of ap palling hideousness reposed beneath -London Daily News. Feather bed Maker. Mrs. msan Merrill of Euast Edding ton, Maine, has supported herself for 10 years and sent her two boys through college by making feather beds of real goose down and selling them in New ngland. An average yield of ginger in Je males I about 2,N pnoeands a ma I tine ooMer., ed re In every city of any considerable ,,, size the roomer is every seventh or re eighth man or woman you meet. He so may be a day laborer or a city edi nd tor, but he represents the ambition, en hopefulness, lindividuallvm, energy, and persistence of the younger pro ductive ranks of mercantile and me chanic employees. With 90,000 room era in Boston, one for every 723 in Chicago, one for every 463 In St. en Louis, and before the earthquake one e for every 233 persons in San Fran cisco, what the rooming-house resem. 'bles is an interesting topic for discus sion. Professor Albert B. Wolfe, of Ob erlin Oollege, accordingly outlines ,r the roomer's problem in Charities in and the Commons for November 2. e The growth of cities and the move y ments of population within the same to city explain the rooming-house dis d tricts in our cities. The roomers have a come to the city for employment, and ck the "landladies," for the most part, , widows thrown on their own re !" sources, who turn to the roomer as a last resort. Old four-story family residences are rented,-in New York '"brownstone fronts," in Boston "swell fronts," in St. Louis old style South it- ern mansions, which have been va cated through business changes or sr- the fickleness of residential fashion. rs At one time nearly all roomers were se boarders. To-day the boarding-housean >n has largely disappeared. The ef- I n fects of this transition are deplor d se ble. The reader must not fall to under stand the difference between the rooming-house and the boarding. house. The boarder sleeps and eats in the same house; the roomer takes his meals at a restaurant. Twenty years ago two-fifths of the "boarders and lodgers" enumerated in the cen sus of Boston were boarders. In 1895 less than one-fifth (17.4 per n- cent.), were boarders. The percent age of lodgers increased from 60.4 in is 1885 to 82.6 in 1895. The further in e crease which has undoubtedly taken place since 1895 has virtually wiped r, out the boarding-house. This is true to not only of Boston but of several fg other Massachusetts towns. Statis tics are lacking for cities outside se Massaohusetts, but the probabilities -y are that the rooming-house is every :e where displacing the old-time board LI ing-house. The causes of this lie in rs the compettlion of the cafes and I "dining-rooms," the fact that it takes n less business ability to manage a rooming-house than a boarding-house, e- and most of all, that the rooming and "s, cafe habit of life offers much more d. freedom than did the boarding-house. In the latter one must be on time for 1e meals and must pay whether he eats is or not. Moreover, lax as were board fe ing-house conventionalities, they at 4> forded far more restraints than can be found in the rooming-house. A A boarding-house without a public par ie lor would be an anomaly, while a rooming-house with one is a rarity. With the passing of the boarding ar house went the last vestige of or "home" life, for a boarding-house s without a public parlor would be an th anomaly, while a rooming-house with one is a rarity. The cmmon table of with its friendly, if aimless, prattle 'p being removed, the isolation of the ty roomer followed, which is a real so r cial problem. He knows few people. th and these not intimately. He rarely se enters a family circle, and becomes a more or less nomadic character,-es e sentially a floater. The absence of th the public parlor is responsible for Sdamming the well-springs of healthy, 1- social intercourse, and for throwing a the lodger upon his own resources. A m girl receives her visitors,-men and le women,--either in her room or in the h street,-the moral effect of which can of easily be deduced. Landmiladies cannot afford a parior, Sand this is the basils of this draw - back. The moral reeuts of such a situation, the writer believes, are a peculiar attitude of mind toward er marriage and family; temporary t unions and prosttution as substitutes; poignant loneliness; a blind, self-seek. tag ndividualsmn striking at altruistic Simpules and moulding existence too closely on lines of t.e competitve busines world. They have no ub stitute for home life, no opportunity for real recreation or cultural assamo clatloo, and are exposed to conditions Swhich would try the most stable Smoral oesoiousnmess. rs The whole situation should be much more thoroughly studied than it has been Ls yet Pubie tatistic lr ther details of the r o distr'ts. Public opin ie on should be rouqd. The gamer must be given a social anchorage; the furniture sharks that prey upon the landlady should receive attention. ht The conneoticon between lodging and Sprosetitution should be studied more carefully. A public parlor should be demanded, even if it be made a pre requisite Lfr a rooming-house license. ly The boarding-house should be brought he back, and the cafe life resisted In s every possible way. Fundamentally, n-at the bottom of these things are, of course, better education and better 4 wages. ly In the same magazine Eleanor IH. t- Woods, of South End House, Boston, ly writes interestingly of the humanl A taran eforts of certain movements in Boston for the social betterment in Its lodging districts. A room reg SIstry organized at South End House three years ago for the assistance of Sptatms seekng rooman ad to stimua late business methods among the hoamekeepers has attained a reason ablie degree of success. A eard cats logae of 150 houses is on lie, co g. tamings isOrmailon as to location, or price, qmality, etc. A earge of 10 e cats is impossd for a list of aval er able dLag-bouses and a postal to t be ued i a ree msm tis eered by the appet Hlsekepers armu e charged onehaif a weks rent tor a. tensat rs t three wmes; herwls, 10 pe Ssent. The miag1mas arm ag hlzed carefully and disreputable pes :)le ejected. This registry serves as a source of information to patrons of the South End district, and labors for elesnliness and morality. This writer advances hopefully a for business women, something on the plan of a private house accommo dating twelve or fifteen, with two or three for household work. An experi r ment on this line worked successfully in Boston, and for women no longer In the youngest tasks the writer be I eves such a household would prove a strong attraction, and she advo cates a series of houses so organized, under one general management. Free from domestic restrictions, and with relative home surroundings, such houses would prove superior to the s general run of lOdginbouses, and would obviate the los which women feel when "housed In caravansaries where social responsibilities are dis couraged by the constant experience of being thrown with so many whom it is Impossible to know, and yet in whose company all the significant home functions are daily practiced. From the American Review of Bo s views. a DRUDGE AND DRONE. How the American Woman Is Man's Chiefest Blessing. L As a teaser of the public John Cor V bin becomes daily more virulent. He r harried Harvard University not long 1 since, and thereby accumulated such, quantities of abuse and derision that he longed for more. Now he is pitch ring into the "American Drone," by which pleasing epithet he designates e the American woman. This will yield lots of fun for John Corbin-Indeed, infinitely more fun than sticking pins into Harvard men, who were few and far between, whereas American wom en, especially at this season of shopping, are more numerous than the sands of the sea. Besides, they Sassay high as regards ginger. Still I am confident that a Corbin will contrive to cope with them. He will readily reply, being so logical himself, to their feebly reasoned pro tests. Separated only by eight and a half inches of text in his little trea tise stand two sentences that serve as emblems of his adherence to con sistency. One reads: "She has 1 achieved a new, a glorious, a hitherto i unattainable ideal-that of lifelong comradeship with man." The other declares: "She has been unable to establish any enduring comradeship with her own menfolk." Let the wom en of America think twice before tackling a reasoner like Corbin. The clerk values his existence too preciously to venture beyond the out er skirmishing lines of this exhilarat Ing and altogether ennobliig little row. I daresay there's somewhat to be said on both sides. So, without j joining the colors of either foe, I con tent myself with a comment upon the American Drone, considered as the chiefest blessing of the American s Drudge. Maybe it's fine, theoretical ly, for a -wife to slave all day, say - ag or earning. Maybe it's theoreti cally refreshing for a fellow to come home tired out to a woman equally tired out. Practically it's no such thing. ;Notice, I'm not eulogizing feminine idleness. Mr. Corbin's Drone keeps t busy enough by his own account of her. But her pursuits aren't those that fag. After a day of exasperation, which has torn a man pretty well to pieces, he meets a comrade still blithe and buoyant and zestful. Ten minutes in her company will recrult his vigor, dismiss his anxieties, re fresh his soul. By not working she enables him to work without breaking a Her duty-if not her first duty, cer tainly almost that-is to keep herself strong and unfatligued against his hours of exhaustion. Perhaps Mr. r Corbin will say that euch an arrange ment makes the hueband work unduly Shard. What of it? He enjoys work ing unduly hard if a new life begins for him every evening--a life at once retful and stimulating-in the com psalonship of his best of friends. Boston Transcript. r- CEYLON HAVING A BOOM. e Trade Outlook the Best Ever Known d in the History of the Island. y Ceylon as a whole is experiencing ; a period ot exceptional prosperity c- and-the trade outlook is the best ever c known in the history of the island. o Tea, cocoannuts, cacao, cardamomns and elcitronell are paying well, and rub. hber and camphor are still more pro y Sitable. SThere has been a continued boom Sin rubber planting, which now occ e pies about 115,000 acres, while tea has had a revival and high prices are h now being realized. Camphor prices Is are very high and the cultivation has e acres U·der thi pr¶lUd. 2 A tr~ portaticn (uestiog t t 6. r been agltted in Ceylon for a long while, and that is now being brought n actively to the front again, is that of Sconnecting Ceylon to India by a rail d road across Adams Bridge and the , shallow bodies of water lying be e tween Ramerwaram and Tallaimanna . at the northern end of the island. r The South Indian Rallway Com it pany are bringing their line to the Sextreme point of the small island of REmeswaram so that only a small Sgap of water will intervene between Sthe termini of the Indian and Ceyloo railways. L If the connection is made at all II will make Colombo the port for south 1ern India, and will greatly benefit the Stea and rubber industries by facilitat lt ig the transportation of laboremrs from India.-From the Journal of the SAmerican Asiatic Association. a- An Acquired Characteristi. ie "Heredity," the boarder with the a- rubicund countenance was saying, 'a "coounts for nearly everything. Fm I' instace, I Ainherited my eyes aa I, the color o my hair ftem my moth Sew's people, my china and nose trom I- my father's side of the house, sad * "Yeu dida't inherit that mos teom Sanybody," aterrupted the boardw w with the allow cempleulsm. "Yes t bIeegt it at vassloe gibos si thIl s liwn sad -al high gsie ir L IstheChllnaman "Fittest" to Survive Us 811g? A conspicuous factor in the battle a of life is omnivorousness, or dives- c ity of teeding. That animal which I has but a single plant, for instance, 1 which it can use for food may be t annihilated by a frost or grub or any a other cause which would remove that Il plant for a single season. That b which feeds Indiseriminately on all e plants will fnd abundant sustenance under more adverse circumstances. I That whose stomach receives vege- L table or animal food with equal favor v has a stilj better chance of surviv- l lug; and that which can catch the t most various sorts of prey is more apt to have prey always at its eom- I mand than that whose powers in U the chase, whose courage or whose a strength can overtake or overcome I only the most slow-moving or weak- t est animals. Man, the most perfect t of animals, and the one who In the d present conditions of the earth eould I survive all others, has attained to his C position of mastery largely because he is, of all animals, the most omni Svorous. Of all the varieties of man the I Asiatic, and especially the Chinaman, " is most diverse in his food. All is r meet to him-animal or vegetable, 7 in the air, on the earth or in the f waters under the earth. He can gorge himself with joy on the abundant I meat diet of the Englishman; he c ' dine comfortably and happily upon a brace of mice, or eke out life for weeks upon a few handfuls of rice. And all the time he can work with- I uat ceasing. He can pack more of t his kind upon an acre of ground than e any New York tenement life can C show, and live there in what he re- 1 gards as tolerable co.afort. In this I he has precisely the same advantage over the white man as the European ' had over the original inhabitants of I this country and as the Englishman had over the natives of Australia. It is really, therefore, those char acteristles of the Asiatic which we most despise and which we regard as constituting his inferiority to oun selves-his miserable little figure, his ° pinched and wretched way of livitng, his slavlsh and tireless industry, his t indifference to high and codtly pleas ures which our habit of generations almost makes necessiktes, his capse ity to live in swarms in wretched a dens where the white man would rot if he did not suffocate-all these make him a most formidable rival for i ultimate survival as the fittest not only in America but wherever he may gain a foothold. Our ancestors emerged from the broad and roomy environment of pas toral and savage life only a few cen turies ago, and our lifesustaining fac ulties represent what has been stored up by heredity in the period which 1 has since elaped. The Eastern Asia- 1 tie emerged from those conditions at ' a period so remote that no human record or tradition can be found so old as to refer to a time when China and India were not too populous for the conditions of savage life. The 1 accumulated experience of countless t ages is therefore stored up in the c Asiastic's food-getting and food-sav d ing capacigt, and those ages properly and fairly represent his superiority ] over us In the battle for the survival of the fittest, it that battle is to be fought in a fair with no favor, in open and ,ndisbd competition. Another advantage in the battle of ' life which the (Chlasman enjoys, al. C thoemh it is one with whirch the path ologt rather than the political econ- a omist ebould be familiar, is his im mulnity from diseases whieh prey up- 4 on the Western races. His clvillsra tion is so old that be has probably eliminated a thousand varietie of his I own race which were susceptible to t these diseases and has at last develop I ed a typ more or less immune. le K can appaently livre ia tolerable health and comfort in the midst of filth i which would breed a desolating pest i leaen among Western people. He has a had time to undergo every experience I of which the human animal Is capable, I I to adjust himself to it and regard it, i howsoever abhorrent it misht be to I Europeans, with Indlfference.-Michc eel J. Dee in the Pacifie Era. DESERT LIF. Heow Animals and Vegetation Are Pro. tooted Against ExtinctIo. Almost all life on the desert goes inumberless species. (ley e ( ai·ed with lons or short tonuh t spines that can penatrate the thick. - I eat boot. The solitary and often gro tesque "Joshua" or Yucca, the eus- * Squite, the catsclaw and numberless shrubs whose names have not been Swritten,-all are armed in one way or i another. Some exude polseonus sap, others nasuseatig odors. The sase Sbrush is about the only one ttst doe Snot seem to have any protecton. 1 In the anlmal klingdom moat are Seither armed with sharp teeth, spines, Sodors or poieon to serve to keep their enemie at a dLstance, while the oth rem depend upon their soetness or artVtl skltns and hidits. STh spined and repulnsivre ala mon- I ser. the horned toad, the sdewInder, 1 with his two bhorn aerd deadly fangs, 1 s ad its comda, the deet ranttleseae; the tarnatula, aeorpion sad desert bee, each of whose sting is exceed tigly painful and sometime tfatal, are amoass the desert's deaizeas. Thee Sthere are may vartsttM of lisards, L lanrie and wmall and of mazy colors, who protect themselves by their speed alone. The prowlinlg eoote, behest, mountain lion, achrabbit, eot tentall, mouantain sheep, ibex, bte Iepe and an occasionoal deer are theseg Among the smaller aaimas are the gopher, kangaroo ret, trade rat, hydre phoia skant, snrusd seuirrm and s n salmersab e mice But the tmrveler SAm see any of these. The ps " gear, hoverr, sos beein7 se quanited with them. The arse or at the latest, second nlght of his stay in any one camp, he will be vias Ited by a trade rat, who will carry away all that portion of his outAt that is not too heavy for his ratship to handle and religionuly leave some stick or stone in its place. A hydrophobia skunk will be apt to call and lunch from any bacof rinds that may be lying about, net disdainin a sip at Mr. Prospector's 1 nose if the opportunity ofers. It is Ie said and firmly believed by the sons s- of the desert that the bite of this h little skunk produces hpirophobls. s, The Gila monster is seldom seen, and e the writer after having spent nearly y a year an the borders of Death Vat it ley has yet to see one of them at it large. Rattlesnahes are also scarce, 11 except in some favorable locality. * The moustain sheep and ibex are . gradually beomng tame, and this s season they have come to springs c where miners were camped as regu r- larly as domestic stock and with lit e tie more timidity. The mountain quail e tollows the miner and his burro. In s. the Avawats Mountains they were n unknown until this year, but they * are abundant there now. It is jn un oe written law among the miners on t. the desert that no game animals or :t birds shall be killed or in any way 1e disturbed unless one is in actual want, id aid he must make proof convincing I oaf that fact If he kills a quail or a sheep. 1. All life on the desert live by its power to resist thirst. All deret ie p'snts are so constructed that they n, re able to conserve and store up is moisture aglrisil the time of drought. e, This Necessity has wrought peculiar 1e forms of both animals and plants, and Ie in time it also leaves Its indelible at mark upon men who dwell am!d its D wastes. The leaves of all desert trees a :.re small and thick, so that they )r expose as little surface as possible e. for evaporation in the dry air. The h great and ever present evidence of tf the struggle for water is noticeable a everywhere where men come together n on the desert. In this struggle all e. who come to the desert must engage is Instantly. Every wagon must have its water barrels, every burro his n water bags, each man his canteen. g Los Angeles Times. How Harvard Yard Was Named. . President Eliot told bow it hap. , pened to be the "Harvard Yard." d "The origin of the name 'Harvard Yard'," he said, "appears in a sketch of 1795 by a sophomore. Joseph Story a Justice of the Supreme Court of the United 8tates at the age of 32 and one time professor at the Harvard law school. The sketch was turned in as an exercise by Story. It got abroad in some manner and was there for many years until a family who inherited it returned It recent. ,ly to this country. The sketch shows t plainly that what is now such a charming spot was then just a back yard and nothing more. "It was unlighted, so that except w when there wau a moon it was dark as pitch. Its quality of darkness was v valued by the students as giving an d opportunity to disregard college regu :h lations and to indulge In some prae a- tices which the faculty viewed .As it nawarranted. a "It was the resort in those days, w especlally in the early forenoon and L the late afternoon, of a crowd of n young children sent from home to is buy hot rolls and fresh bread from ' I the baker's shop which occupied the a corner rooms in University Hall, now . devoted to ofices for the dea of the y Lawrence scientific school."-Bostoq y Herald. Correcting a CorreCtion. In our correction last week of the Sshotgun episode article we made a Smistakhe which nscesaltates another Scorrectioa. William Behmldt is one . of our best citisens and does n use a. a shot~an to chase people either in a.or out of a house. We rather look . ed for tim to bring a ptling gun . down to the Bee Otce after read ly ing our article last week. In the i harry of getting copy ready we wrte a the name of William BSchmapt, when p it should have been Henry. Henry [e not Bill-ts the shot~aun man that :h chased a woman "into" aot "out" of h her house. Another time we stand . corrected. We hope this article is t all straighrt-that all names are right e and spelled riglht. That we haven't e, used out for in or in for out or up t, for down. If we were runting a daily to i wouldn't be so bad, for we could ) correct the mistake sooner, but to wait a week and have that suspens hanging over one, like a sword hang ing by a thread, that's whbt's putting the gray hairs In the Old Man's head - -Powhatan Bee. SRests OGun Across Arm. $ SCourt of nina Chinamen rwith h the murer of one of their country k- me,- and that is no Chinaman when odaslng a revolver levels it straight Sat a peron or st an obect, bt rests 5 the mussle of the "gun" on his left S forearm, and with the right hand Sholding the butt discharges the weap P, on. SCounsel wanted an explanstion, but s could not obtain it, and later a mem ber of one of the tonrs in the cor r rider was asked for a reason. 0. "Don't know why a gun is used Jrain that amaner," was the respone, h "anless it lnsures more secreey tian r the Americae way. For tnstance, a Chinanmn may wrap the gun in the a- fids of his sleeve, learing only the r. barrel hole free. Then a shot may i be lred, when it would apper as s; thoush the one who disdhargaed the rt weapon bad his arms folded. There d would be no gliUnt of steel and noth rl, ag bat a carl of smobs to tell who s dischargla the weapee." - Boston Is, Herald. S Enemies of Rubber Tires. Rubber tires have three natural enemies that are destrucotive to rub betr, light, heat and oil, and each has its own peculiar elect, which sheauld be guarded against. ler The Departmeant of Health of New a Y4ok city is worklag with a new a serum for the_ eare of te.s 0