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Junction .l _______ fly Donald Allen (Copyright, 1909 by Associated Literal? Press.) Miss Carrie Mayberry had made a Journey of 70 miles up the state to phy a month's visit to her aunt She had had to change cars at a Junction en route, but the conductor had been so courteous, and there had been so many passengers changing with her, that she had not minded the ten-min ute wait In returning after her visit was up, things were different The conductor was a cross-grained old chap who had no good-looking daughter of his orfn, and then the only other pas senger to get off and take the G. ft B. road was a young man. who proceeded to saunter up and down the platform without giving Miss Carrie a second look. As if these three or four things were not bad enough, she learned that the train she had to wait for was three hours behind time. She did not learn this from the young man—oh, no. He found out for himself and then kept the information to himself, though he must have known what a hurry she was In to get baek home and see pa and ma. He Just didn't care whether she got home that day or the week after. Miss Carrie learned about the late ness of the train from the red-headed depot agent It was a country Junc tion. The depot and his house were the only two buildings there. The only landscape for three miles around was made up of a spotted cow, a swamp, a haystack and a water-tank. It took the red-headed man Just one hour to get ready to come out on the platform and say: "Tour train was three hours late an hour ago now it's only two hours." "What! My train late!" was the ex clamation. "Why didn't you tell me so when I got off?" "No good. You'd have had to stay Just the same." The young man saw her look of chagrin, disappointment and anger from the flour barrel on which he was The Only Landscape Was Made Up of a Spotted Cow, a Swamp, a Hay stack and a Water-Tank. sitting, but did not come forward and take the red-headed man by the neck or speak words of consolation to her. She looked at him and mentally called him names—real hard names. The agent had a home, a wife and two children. It was a few rods away, and the right thing would have been to invite Miss Carrie to tarry there. He didn't do the right thing. He didn't care whether she walked the platform or roosted on the haystack. And that young man! A nice speci men he was. Of course, Miss Carrie had made up her mind when she first got off that if he tried to scrape ac quaintance she would promptly freeze him out, but that was on the under standing that the G. & B. train was on time. Now it was hours late, and that made all the difference in the world. He ought to know that It did. Just after the red-headed man had told Miss Carrie that she still had two hours to wait she looked at her watch and found that it had stopped. There was no clock in the depot. The young man had a watch which he frequently consulted in a somewhat ostentatious way, but would the girl humble her self to ask him what time it wasT, Never in this world! There were some yellow flowers growing alongside the tracks 20 rods away, and he could have Jumped down and culled her a bouquet. The two hours were about up when the red-headed man came out to wiap Carrie to say: "Your train is another two hours late, making five hours in all. Mebbe It will be six, but I'll say five to you." "And I—I've got to wait two or three hours more!" she almost screached. ".Unless you want to walk." The young man was at the far end of the platform Inspecting a patent washing machine that had arrived by freight and yet he must have heard the message and known her feelings. If not why did be grinT For a minute Miss Carrie looked around for dyna mite to blow him off the face of the earth, but then It began to rain and she had to seek shelter. The young j&an also sought, shelter. J**— The sitting room was about 12 feet square. It contained a. rusty stove and a single bench. Its windows had not been washed since the surrender of Lord Cornwallis and the only picture on the walls was that of a young lady with long hair and holding in her hand a bottle of the stuff that did the trick. Miss Carrie took one end of the bench and the young man the other. For 20 minutes she gazed at her toes and he at his. Then they raised their eyes as high as the long-haired girl and kept them there a long time. She could have grown another foot of hair while they looked. Then the red-headed man came in and said he guessed it was going to rain, and went out again. As it had been pouring for half an hour his ob servation struck home* The young man wished to himself that he had such a father-in-law and Miss Carrie wished to herself that he would come to the Boston weather bureau and run the weather for a while. Then the young man consulted his watch. The girl wished it would stop with a bang, and she walked over to one of the two windows to see if the cow still stood out on the marsh. He walked over to the other to see if the haystack still stood upright or had a Pisa tower lean to it. Silence for 20 minutes. The two could almost hear more rust gathering on the stove. Then, all of a sudden, Miss Carrie gave way. She had been wanting to cry about something for three weeks past. The something had come. There were tears and sobs. "What's—what's the matter?" asked the young man. "You are!" she answered fiercely. "How am I—I—?" "You know. Here I've been for a whole week, and you haven't—haven't even spoken to me! No, you haven't and I'm ready to tell you what I think of you!" "But, you know—you know—!" ha faltered. "Of course, I know! Was it my business to come up and speak to you first? You knew I was impatient You knew I was lonesome. You knew I had nowhere to go. And—and you Just walked and walked and walked, and you wouldn't even look at me. Where are your manners, sir? Are you a stick of wood or a young man?" "But I flirted with a girl once and she froze me," lamely protested the young man. "But am I that girl? Are all girls alike? Did that girl have to wait five or six weeks at an old Junction? I—I don't want to flirt. I want to talk Just talk. I want to know when that old train is coming—when it's goin'g to stop raining—what time it is—if the curl has come out of my hair in this dampness, and lots and lots more! Why, if you hadn't been a chump—I mean if you had been a talker, we might have had a real long visit and I could have told you all about my Aunt Sarah." It wasn't too late to make amends. The young man hitched nearer and be gan to talk, and half an hour later when the red-headed man came in to say that the train had concluded to be two additional hours late, the couple gave him.no attention and he went to the house and said to his wife: "Well, they've took to each other at last, and I Just heard him ask her if she would correspond. If it ain't a marriage within a year then I'll dye my hair and grow chin-whiskers." MRS. HEN KEEPS AT DEVISED A WORK Trainmen Have Come to Realize That Biddy Is No Loafer Even When Traveling. Fresh eggs are no novelty among the railroad and express men who handle the big shipments of live poul try that comes into New York from all sections of the country. If the hen has developed the laying habit she does not forget it during her last Journey. About the last thing that happens before the trainmen turn their poultry shipments over to the consignee is an egg hunt. The ex perienced searcher is careful not to make a disturbance, but reaches into the crate which houses a section of the shipment, gently pushes the in mates, first to one side and then to the other, his search usually being re warded by a number of eggs, which are found lying on the crate bottom. Queer tenants are sometimes found in poultry crates. A year or more ago, when a crate of poultry from Iowa was opened at the Farmers' mar ket, Gansevoort and West streets, a little kitten was found among the poul try, thirsty and half starved. The marketmen fed it and made a pet of it afterward. Anyone who goes to the market now will see a fine Maltese cat, one whose many successful bat tles with the big rats that frequent the market have given it a wide repu tation.—New York Press. Joining India and Ceylon. The linking of India and Ceylon by railway is again under discussion. There is said to be no serious en gineering difficulty connected with the bridging of the Paumben channel, nor at the south end of the line, for the island of Mannar is already practical ly attached to Ceylon. But between the southern end of the island of Rameswaram and the northern end of the island of Mannar, there is a dis tance of about 38 miles, marked by an almost continuous coral reef, either covered with shallow water or rising above the level of the sea in numer ous coral islets—the "stepping-stones" of Adam's bridge—to be bridged. Don't boast of your lineage. It's a dozen to a quart that if you trace it back a few generations you will find some one who borrowed a horse with out the owner's consent rrv Conductor's Reckorir- .ilid. Perhaps, But Not Recconi -ed by Any Official Standard. A new method of marking time has been introduced by Conductor .loeGor1 don, who is one of rlie most poptjlar trainmen on the Amboy division of the Pennsylvania rpilroad. Mr. Gor don is not only a favorite with tlje men passengers and admired by the women, but probably because he used to run the milk train from Borden town to Camden he Is also beloved by the babies. Notwithstanding his sweet and gentle nature, however, It almost makes him peevish when he has to hold his train while a lot of lovely women kiss each other good-by, and more than once he has been tempted to give his locomotive a swift kick and hike down the road without them. Recently Joe stopped his train at a station where no less than twenty women were congregated on the plat form. Some of them were going away and some of them weren't and Just as the last moment arrived everybody started in to kiss everybody else. All of this took valuable time and the gen ial Joseph was patiently waiting. "All aboard!" he finally shouted, after standing for the sweetness as long as he could. "This train for Phil adelphia and way stations." "Oh, Mr. Gordon." ushfully cried a little fairy, "wait Just a minute, won't you? I must kiss Bessie good-by." "All right," returned Joe, heaving a large, sad sigh, "but be as quick as you can, please. We are about 150 kisses late now."—Philadelphia Tele graph. THE TRAINING OF THE CHILD S jrely the Most Important Work That Men and Women Can Bo Called Upon to Do.' There is no mother or father among us who has not at times been appalled by our almost utter lack of equip ment for the work of rearing children, declares a writer in the Detroit News. It is by far the most important work that any of us can do to rear the men and women who are to make, or re make, or unmake the society of the future. Most of us are slaves of the idea that the big Job is to clothe and feed them and give them the opportu nities the schools afford. We would save them from working with their hands, and Insure them starched shirts during their lives. But all this is nothing in comparison with the real work of rearing the men and women of the future. We delegate to others their training, moral, Intellectual and religious. We become mere feeders and clothers of bodies, and we do this much for animals. Children need companionship, and companionship means more than seg regation in a home with blood rela tives. The closest companionship Is sometimes reserved for kindred soiils of other families. Children need to be treated with consideration while they are passing through the most sensitive period of their career. You can never wound a man as you can a child. And it is almost Impossible to influence a man as you can a child. The very life stuff of the future is in our hands, and how little we know about molding it American Illustrators. The American illustrations—the Il lustrations of our numerous "best sellers" and other stories of shorter length—have noticeably improved in quality in the last few years. The il lustrator has slowly but surely forged ahead of his old class and the average work is much higher than formerly. The illustrator is learning that his il lustrations have not always illus trated either in their adherence to the printed text or in method of technique used in portraying his con ception. He is learning that an illus tration of any real value must not only illustrate, but that his work must have artistic value. With neither of these necessary features, it is, of course, worthless to the public, and if it be merely an accurate illustra tion, merely a line or brush .descrip tion of a scene or single thing, the educated public wants simplicity of execution and as great a directness as is possible, and in many cases if the illustrator cares not for artistic value he should give way to the mechanical draftsman and photographer. Importance of Details. Spare no pains in collecting details before you generalize it is only when details are generalized that a truth is gTasped. The tendency to generalize is universal with all men who achieve great success, whether in art, liter ature, or action. The habit of gener alizing, though at first gained with care and caution, secures by practice a comprehensiveness of Judgment, and a promptitude of decision which seem to a crowd like the intuitions of genius. And, indeed, nothing more distinguishes the man of genius from the mere man of talent than the facul ty of generalizing the various details, each of which demands the aptitude of a special talent, but all of which can only be gathered into a single whole by the grasp of a mind which may have no special aptitude for any —Lord Lytton. Passing Them Up. "Come on, don't let's stop here" "Why not?" "Don't youse see dem signs on de gate?" "Yes, but they're new ones on me." "Dcy means dat de family llvta' here is meat strikers." The Danger Signal By Oskar Reich (Copyrighted by Short Stories Co., Ltd. "Porter, put my Batchel in the through carriage for Salzburg, not the smoker." "All right, sir." A few moments later Edgar Spilten was installed in the desired carriage. He always traveled in the compart ment for non-smokers, for he not only disliked the habit, but also was ever on the lookout for adventures on his travels, and as ladies generally gave special preference to this compart ment, he found it more opportune. To-day his prospects looked meager. The guard had already closed the doors, and he was still alone. The train, on the whole, was rather empty. As it was winter there was but little traveling for pleasure, and the num ber of those driven forth by business or duty was small at this time of the year. In one of the two adjoining compartments a trio of men had already picked acquaintance, and were absorbed in a game of "taroc," while in the other a pair of travelers seemed to consider it their chief aim to estab lish a cigarette record. The carriage door was thrown open and a porter appeared laden with In numerable bags and bundles, which he hurriedly tossed up into the rack. "Just like a novel, murmured Ed gar. "I say, porter, who is coming in here?" "A lady." "Young?" "Surely, Herr Spilten. You may see for yourself." "What, Frau Hofrathin! You? This is what I call a surprise. You have no idea how delighted I am" "And I, but for another reason, namely, that I succeeded in getting here at all. That I am in this last carriage is simply because I had just time enough to reach it. It was a mad rush. Thank heaven my hus band was not there he Is always so nervous." "Like all husbands. May I be so rude as to ask where you are bound?" "To my sister in Munich you know, Ella married there. My husband left Seated Himself Upon a Milestone. yesterday for a fortnight's trip to the Budapesth convention, and I am tak ing advantage of his absence to pay this long-deferred visit. And you?" "1 am on my way to Salzburg." "Ah, yes. Tell me, why were you not at the Waller's last Sunday? You have always been such a habitue there." "I found it absolutely impossible, it was such an exceptionally full day. Four "At homes." Did I miss any thing? "I cannot judge of that. You must decide for yourself when I tell you who was there. First, Martha Schwert "That is intended partly as a feeler, I presume." "No, wholly." "Oh, I don't deny that I am atten tive to Martha Schwert. Why shouldj I not be? She is certainly very pretty,' or perhaps you do not agree with me."j "Indeed, yes one of the prettiest] girls in Vienna. Is she equally re-' markable for her discretion?" "The same old question whenever her name is mentioned. No, she is not remarkably discreet. Quite the contrary, in fact" "And yet "And yet I am one of her devotees. At balls and skating parties she is always the most beautiful girl present, and to dance a polonaise or a quad rille with her gives me thorough satis faction. As for my acquaintances, it irritates the men exceedingly, and the women even more. And then the cut ting observations, especially from the ladies: 'Ah, you know Frauleln Sch wert? Pretty features, but rather ex pressionless.' 'A picture without a a soul.' 'Do you find Fraulein Sch wert so very entertaining?" etc. Be sides, my dear lady, I have recently met Ida Zwirner at Wiegand, and I worship at her shrine also." "You are positively Don Juan of the drawing-room. You have a long list of gods and goddesses, a veritable Olympus, before whose altars you bend." At St. Polten, this being the weekly market day there, a number of people got on, but mostly second class. More over, Edgar had tipped the guard a gulden to insure no one entering his compartment. By the time the train had reached Anstetten it had picked up five young girls, three small groups of people, and four unhappy looking couples. "We reach Line in twenty minutes, do we not? They wait there fifteen minutes for lunch." "Too little time to eat, and too lo/jg to go hungry. However, as we are a little late, the train will prob ably not make so long a stop." "We might at all events have the heat turned off." "Pardon me, my dear lady, but the lever you were about to grasp is the danger signal." "Ah I might have brought about a strange result" "Not so dreadful, after all. As you see, it would simply be a penalty of fifty gulden." "I hardly know why, but I always think that I would like to give the sig nal once, just to see what would hap pen. "That idea, I fancy, occurs to most of us to me, at any rate, whenever I travel by train. It is the same when I cross a bridge, I always wonder what would happen if I were to Jump over or if 1 were to say something unheard of, something wildly sensa tional, when I am out in society." "I have the same feeling, precisely." "Then—if you like, Frau Hofrathin —'Two souls with but a single thought'—let us put it to the test.". "But think of the consequences. You would be arrested and impris oned, and then—imagine the panic of our fellow passengers. By the way, could they tell who had given the signal?" "I rather think the machinery reg isters that. But, really, this would be the best possible opportunity, and I am curious to the limit. There is a long stop at Linz, time enough for the station master to prefer a charge against me and for me to pay the penalty, for that Is all there Is to it 1 will simply tell him that I. intended to turn off the heat, and made a mis take. So—" and before the young woman could prevent him he had pulled the lever. A shrill whistle and a Jerk, the wheels creaking and groaning beneath the grinding pressure of the breaks— another jerk, and the train stopped. Passengers rushed to the windows, guards ran from carriage to carriage. Then suddenly followed a blinding crash. The local had, as usual, been de layed, and behind it came rushing on the Orient express, which was due in Linz a few minutes after the local, and preceded it from there on. The guards, startled by the danger signal, thought only of discovering where help was needed, and In the excite ment and confusion no one had re membered the danger that threat ened and no precautions had been taken to flag the train. Owing to the heavy, impenetrable fog, and also to the fact that the local had come to a stop just around a curve, the engineer of the Orient express had first seen it when only a few yards distant, and though he blew his whistle and applied the brakes, the express dashed into the train ahead at almost full speed. Fif teen dead, more than forty severely injured! The examination disclosed nothing definite. So much was certain, that the danger signal had been given. By whom and why remained a mystery. Some thought that perhaps a passen ger had seen the Orient express com ing, and had thought thus to avoid a possible collision. Edgar's friends wonder that he, once the gayest of the gay, is now so often sad and melancholy. "You know," they say, "he was in that ter rible railroad accident near Linz, and was the only one in the rear carriage to escape with his life. That is why he is always so unwilling now to travel by train." NAPOLEON AS PUSS IN BOOTS Master of Europe Conquered by Re mark Made by Twelve-Year Old Child. Napoleon Bonaparte was always a very small man, and when he first entered the army as a sub-lieutenant in an artillery regiment, the top boots which were part of his uniform were so high and wide, that the thin little legs of the future emperor seemed quite buried in them. However, the young sub-lieutenant was vain enough to be quite uncon scious of the comical figure he cut, and went, readily enough to show off himself and his fine uniform to the Duchesse d'Abrantes and her sister, who had been early playfellows of his. No sooner did the young officer en ter their drawing-room than the two girls burst into a loud laugh at his appearance, the younger of the two especially making great fun of him but Bonaparte never could relish a joke, especially at his own expense, and he now became quite angry at their laughter. The elder girl was a year or more Bonaparte's senior, and she told him that "now he was an officer and wore a sword, he ought to know how to ber have to ladies and not to speak angrily to them, but should be able to Joke back If they laughed at him." "Ladies," said Bonaparte, contemptu ously, and looking at the younger girl, "she is nothing but a little school girl." This affronted the 12-year-old young lady, and she retorted with great spirit: "And what are you? Nothing but a puss in boots!" The careful housewife doesn't mind her husband leaving footprints In the sands of time, proflded he doesn't track any in the house. '.Tui'CT MEW ENGLISH LAW Grins of Clown and Acrobat's Contor tions May Be Copyrighted in the Future. "All grimaces in Mr. So-and-So's performances are copyrighted." This notice on the program may* greet the nye of a spectator of the bar-J lequir of the fu'-^p if effect Is given Vie recomi lations of the coir.?' to consider the law of copy rlgl:- "b has just concluded its sittl: ays an English exchange. For us report Just published ap pears the recommendation that the protection of copyright should be ex tended to "entertainments in dumb show," and these Mr. Scrutton, K. C., a dissenting member of the committee, points out, must necessarily include facial expressions. But the clown will not be the only one to benefit. The contortionist who ties himself in a novel knot, the gym nast who invents some new feat, may equally copyright them, for their en tertainments may be "entertainments in dumb show." Verbal contortionists, too, will have their need of protection, for the com mittee recommends that authors of lectures, speeches and sermons should have the sole right of delivering them, though newspapers ay report them unless notico prohibiting publication is given at the time of delivery. No longer will the author of a mu sical work groan at the thought of lost :oyalties when he hears his master piece ground out on a barrel organ, for he Is to have the sole right of au thorizing its "adaptation to instru ments which can produce them me chanically." And the artist who sees his picture reproduced by a cinematograph' may be tempted to overlook the absence of some of its finer shades in reckon ing the profits of the performance. For, so the committee recommends, authors of literary, scientific or artis tic works are to have the exclusive rigln of authorizing the reproduction and public presentation of their works. ADAM BEDE HAS NEW IDEA Insists That a Society for the Suppres sion of Cruelty to Soli Is Needed. A Society for the Suppression of Cruelty to Soil is advocated by J. AOatn Bede, former congressman from Minnesota and humorist of national reputation, the St. Paul Dispatch says. Not only does he believe in such a society, but he says he expects to live long enough to see one organized un der government supervision. "Stuff! This thing of increased cost of living," Mr. Bede said. "It doesn't cost more unless you make it. If we'd live like our grand mothers did it wouldn't cost any more. The trouble is. we're living too fast and too luxuriously. 1 worked my way through school. I'm paying the way of my children. Gratidma did her own housework. We're hiring ours done. It's just that kind of thing which causes us to spend money. And luxuries! Why, the farmers are get ting so wealthy they want to ride in automobiles. Cows upstate are get ting so they won't give down th?ir milk unless you turn on the electric lights and have a Caruso to sing. It's the rust, not the trusts, which is hurting us. Traveling down through Kansas a short time ago, I saw all kinds of farm machinery, wagons, bug gies and implements, standing out in the weather—rusting We're too lazy to take care of the tilings we have. We're not making the ground produce as it should. We're neglecting it. We. have not learned to rotate the crops. We plant wheat and more wheat until we have 'wheated' the ground to death. That's why 1 want to see a So ciety for the Prevention of Cruelty to Soil." Palestine and California. That the soil possibilities of Pales tine and California are much the same is quite a revelation Prof. A. Aaron sohn of Haifa, Palestine, has pointed out that each region has a range of low mountains near the coast, and be yond this a long interior valley with a range of higher mountains lor the eastern wall, and, as the prevailing winds have the same direction, the distribution of rainfall corresponds closely. It is found that the very sim ilar climatic and topographic condi tions have produced similar plants. The languishing of agriculture in Pal estine seems to be a result of poor government, not of sterile soil and arid climate, and it is believed that under better management the econom ic plants that flourish in Callforina will be successfully introduced. Among the plants discovered in Pal estine is a wheat, growing wild In high altitudes on sterile soil, that is considered the prototype of our cul tivated varieties. A Mighty Massachusetts Hunter. Roland Smith, who lives in the town of Sheffield, probably holds the record locally as a hunter of musk rats, says the Springfield Republican Every year during the January thaws he in company with a man spends the warm days shooting rats and they have captured a great many This month during the two days that the water overflowed the meadows they went out in a boat and killed be tween 150 and 160 rats. These will bring from 50 to 75 cents a pelt, ac cording to the size and quality 0f the fur Mr Smith hunts the rats with a rifle and in this way is able to kill them without damaging the skin to any extent. Sometimes when it is necessary a shotgun is used.