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THE LAFAYETTE GAZETTE. VOLUME I. . LAFAYETTE, LA., SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1893. NUMBER 27. WHEN MOTHER .GETS HOME. When mother gets home, oh. listen to the laughter Of the lisping little ones that gather al about With chabby feet and dimpled arms kept busy climbing after The blessings and caressings thaka mother's love deals out. Cooing This is Wooing Kisses From the endless treasure Of those velvet lips of here, sweet as honel comb. IBaby Lingers, May be Fingers All the matchless measure Of her wealth of tresses, when mother gets home. When mother gets home, all the hoes is strangely quiet. In the shadow of the silence sits the dear old vacant chair. Above it, on the parlor wall, a picture hangs, while nigh it Are poor dumb lips, that falter at the thresh old of a prayer. Children Faces, Drilled in Graces, Look so worn and weary Look so wan and weird-like in the .awful . gloom. Rather Lonely, Father Only Says: "While our hearts are dreary The angels will be happier, when mother gets home." -Alfred Ellison, in Chicago News. HE major and I had just fin ishled dinner at the major's club. He was a bluff old fel 1 low of fifty, with piercing gray eyes, a . military bear b ing, and a wealth of red complexion; in short, just such a man as you would address, instinctively, as "Major." We pulled tentatively at the cigars until satisfied of their excellence. Then I asked the major what had be come of his two nephews, of whom he used to tell me so much. He indulged in some reminiscent chuckles, and said: "Well, well! So I never told you how they settled down? Quite a fam ily affair it was. Let me ree-um when you last heard of the boys, Lee, the elder, was drinking very hard. "Where the fellow even got his ap petite for liquor no one knows, but he had it, and it was appalling, and there did not seem to be any way of spoiling it for him. He was one of the bright est boys I ever knew, one of these plausible, ingratiating scamps that you can't help but like, and wish you could. George was just the opposite, a quiet, studious sort of a chap, who kept to himself, mostly. Somehow, he never seemed to get along with people the way Leq did- he didn't have that bright sort of tact that makes youdg men agreeable and taking. He didn't care any more for society than society cared for him; the two weren't suited to each other; all he wanted was to be let alone. The boy was all right at bot tom, as he's shown since; but the per son to draw him out hadn't come along yet. "Well, four years ago this fall, there came to the house one day a hundred and twenty pounds of as pretty, blue eyed meekness as you ever saw. It was the daughter of a sort of second cousin of brother Ed's and mine. Her parents were dead, and Ed was her guardian, so she came here to live. She was one of this little, canary-bird sort of girls. "At the time she arrived. Lee was just a little this side of delirum tre mens,. and I really believe she staved 'em off. Julie was her name. She hadn't been in the house two weeks before everybody was in love with her, including both of the boys. It was the most astonishing thing in the world, the way she drew that fellow George out. From being moody and self-con tained, he just expanded into as jovial and agreeable a young man as you'd wish to meet. Julie and he seemed to take to each other from the start. I can tell you, old boy, to see them to gether, with so much confidence and good vill between 'em, and so much of something else that seemed too big' to express-well, sometimes it made me feel that possibly I'd missed something in life by knocking around single. "But, however-well, Lee didn't get along so well with Julie. When he was sober, and devoted himself to her, he seemed to sort of awe her, don't you know-she wasn't free and happy as she was with George, but always re strained, and half afraid of him. But they were both dead in love with her, and each-ivas determined to have her. "Now, jou would have thought that _ .:mn' his wife would have put their - fgLuence .on George's side, wouldn't "'',: yo Not a bit ef it. They wanted -__.to marry Lee, and why? Because . Z v told her she was the one person *"'-Mio could reform him-save him from 'i.;drunkard's grave, you know, and t'i1that rot. Vell. I'm blamed if they didn't hornaswoggle the girl into say ing she would marry him. He. had grace enough to take it with a good deal of shameb-facedness, and she well, she looked as if she hadn't a friend left on earth. But they had dinned her so much about her duty and what a man she could make of Lee that she didn't have nerve enough to come out flat-footed and say no. "One evening George came to me, down-hearted-looking as could be, and wanted I should take dinner with him down town. F knew how he was feel ing and thought I might chirk him up a bit, possibly, so we had dinner to gether. Long before we'd finished I could see he'd some new purpose in his head, and finally out he came with it. Me6SYSa "`Uncle, how drunk rasy a gentle man get? "Well, I told him a gentleman was all right so long as he could apologize for his condition. "Then he wanted to know if cham pagne was a good way of reach ineg limit. I hadn't quite got him yet; ist I warned him against champagne, of course-told him it was too liable to carry him past the station-and that straight whisky was the only trust worthy beverage where-a man started soberly out to get drunk. "He laughed a little and said he be lieved he'd been missing some fun. "I met George again that night, about one o'clock it was, and he was drunk. Well, you can imagine how the thing shocked me, because when a fellow of his quiet nature takes too much, you know it means something. I saw then why he had questioned me as he did. The strain upon him, his disap pointment at losing the girl, had made him reckless, and he'd taken this way to throw it off. I tried to get him home with me, but he would*e' have it. He said there was something wrong about the limit of inebriety I had set, because, while he was still able to apologize for his condition, he had lost all desire to do so. I wasn't really much alarmed, because I thought one nightof it would settle him. It didn't, though. - He was at it again next day, and the next. "There was a pretty row on whenhis father and mother heard of it. But that didn't worry hinm any. He kept it ug like an old rounder. I've known him to get two policemen drunk in one night -miserable judge of whisky he was, too. "It soon seemed inevitable that the family was to produce two highly sun cessful drunkards, and then it became a'question of which one the girl stood the best chance of saving. "While Ed and his wife were debat ing over it, it came to Julie's mind one day that, for one of the interested par ties, she wasn't having much voice is the matter. One morning, without say' ing anything to anyone, she locked George in his room and fed him on milli toast and Apollinaris water all day. Toward night she let him out. He gave her to understand that his craving foe strong drink was next thing to uncon trollable and that she had got to marry him; otherwise he could never conquer it. She said she would marry him when he kept sober six months, regardless of what his father and mother might say. It seems she had a will of her own, only she had to cry a good deal t4 get it in working order. "You can imagine how anxiously we all watched George, and what a relies it was to every one, when he began tc show that he had conquerei his appe tite for too much whisky. "lie finished out his period of proba tion soberly, and the weddir g came off The day before, he said to me: 'Well uncle, it's pretty tough when a mar has to make a reprobate of himself be fore he can marry the woman he loves but 1 think I did tolerably welL' "'I think you did, my boy,' I said, 'considering your lack of natural qual ifications; but I don't see that you were forced into it.' "'Yes; but I was,' he said. 'Lee drank hard, and every one, even my own people, said what a bright fellow he could be if hd would only let liquor alone, then they gave him the girl I loved SHE FED HIM ON MILK TOAST AND A-s POLINARIS WATER. because I didn't happen to be a drunk ard. I just thought I'd see if whisky straight, as you called it, wouldn't bring my merits out into a little strong er relief.' "" Then you didn't have a strong appe tite for liquor.' I asked him. "'Not a bit of it,' he said. 'I found hard drinking to be hard work; and, to tell the truth about it, that last month of my brief career as a dipsomaniac was a fake. I just kept out late and lit' tered my room up with empty bottles. But he swore me to secrecy. And to this day they all think Julie plucked him from the burning." "And what became of Lee after his brother's marriage?" I asked. "Well, now, do you know that's the funny part. of it. As soon as George started in, Lee became alarmed about him, and in his efforts to keep George sti'aight he got to keeping sober him. self. George's misdeeds seemed to open his eyes and give him a disgust for that sort of thing. He straightened up and married-an old flame of his who'd jilted him when he first began to get wild. They're both heads of families now." H. L. Wilson, in Puck. An Error Retlied. Fortune Teller (examining Teacad. dy's hand)-It's no use pretending you will live to be an old man. Your line of life shows you will die before you are forty. You will be very successful. etc., etc. (Prates glibly for five min utes.) And now as to wedding. You will get married in your thirty-fiftb year, and have fifteen children. Teacaddy-How the deuce can that happen? You said just now that I should not live to be forty! Fortune Teller (seeing he has put his foot in it)-Ah, yes, so I did-and ahem-it's very true. You see--ahem the fact is-ahem-that you will--nm, um, ahem-will marry a widow witb thirteen!-Pick-Me- U p. I-"Pay as you go" and saes enoug. to come back on.-Galveston News. THE FARMING WORLM. LOCATION OF ROADS. Sln Importsant Poins That Ie RBeen Over. looked Entirely. Roads should be placed on a dead level, if possible, and where impossible then on the easiest grade obtainable. No doubt nearly every one who has traveled through the country has ob served many places where the roads run over hills, high and low, big and little, steep and slant, when they could just as well run through valleys, around the hills, or along the ridges. Of course, there are some parts of the country so flat and level that these re marks do not apply to them, but there are many, very many, where they do. I give two examples taken from one of the most public roads in Ohio. Here the distance from a to f is about three miles. In Fig. 1 the lower line represents the present direction of the road, Fig. 2 is a perpendicular section of the road as it now runs, showing the hills in the route, c, d anaW e, being severally about 100, 150 and 125 feet high. The only hill in the way where the road ought to be is b. whose ascent could be made very easy and the de scent so gradual as to be but little more than perceptible. These figures represent only about one mile of road. As in the former case, the lower line of Fig. i represents the road as it is, and the upper, where it ought to be. Fig. 2 represents the hills, b c, d and e, as now encopn tered. and though they are not very high nor steep, yet all of them might be avoided but b, by placing the road on the upper line, and in approaching it it would have as good a grade as it now has. Now my proposition implies this: Close up all unnecessary roads; change all existing roads before any more a / FIRST EXAMPLE. work is done on them to better loca tions, if possible; and put all new roads, needed, on the levelest and best grades obtainable. Of course, there is included in this that all roads shall be as direct and, therefore, as short between ob jective points, avoiding as many crooks and turns and angles, as the above con ditions will justify; and also, if said conditions will admit of it, that all roads shall run on section and farm lines. Now why should we contend for this proposition? (I) Roads are made to be permanent. We are traveling the same roads our fathers and grandfathers made and used perhaps nearly a century ago. No thought was entertained by them then but that these roads would remain as long as time would last. Now if roads are made to be permanent, is it not clear that they should have the best location possible? And if our fathers, made a mistake in putting them where they did, and therefore suffered great disadvantages and loss and entailed that suffering upon us, does it not for cibly argue that we should hasten to correct their error that we and our posterity may have the benefit to ac crue? (2) Our proposition would save dis tance and time. A team can travel much more rapidly over a level road than over a hilly one, and in every ease where distance is shortened time is gained. That time is shortened by avoid ing the hills is true as a general state ment. In the examples I have given, and in every case I now think of, the level routes would be the shorter. Indeed, it is like going twelve or fifteen miles to get ten, not by going around curves and angles on the same level, but going up and down, which is much harder. And if the distance were not shortened much, it is very probable that it would not be any greater, on the principle that a kettle bail is no longer lying down than it is standing up and the greater ease afforded team and vehicles and the time saved by greater speed would make great gain. (3) WVe would save draught, and therefore wear and tear of horse flesh and of vehicles. A wagon on the level, could all friction and the opposition of the atmosphere be removed, would when started run of itself till it was stopped; but when a hill came in the way, the wagon and its load would have to be lifted as high as the hill. Now the work of the team attached to the load is to overcome only this fric tion and opposition of the atmosphere on the level road, but when it reaches the hill there is added the burden of lifting the load to the hill-top. But this lifting is lessened in proportion to the degree of inclination of the hill, SaCOxN EXALPLE. thus: The team must bear the same ratio to its load that the height of the hill bears to the length of the inclina tion of the hill. Hence, a team pulling a load weIghing 400 pounds, when it comes to a hill 100 feet high with an in clination of 800 feet, has added to its burden 500 pounds which it mast lift to the top of the hill. Or, we may state it according to the law of mechanics, thus: As the team, or power, is to the load I wght, so is the height of the hill to the length of inclination of the hill. Or P: 4,000 :: 100 : 800. And this same ratio must obtain no difference how heavy the load or how high the hill. But a hill raisaa a461 one foot in height is a very fiat hill; many are as one to four, or as steep again, and would therefore place twice the weight on the horses; hence, in the above instance, their burden would be increased by one thousand pounds.-B. Asbury, in Ohio Farmer. GARDEN STEP LADDER. No General Freit Grower Can Get Along Without One. In the vegetable garden there may be no need of a step ladder, unless you live in one of those western or southern sections where the people claim that the ears on their corn grow so high that they are beyond reach from the ground. The general fruit grower, however, cannot get along without lad ders of all kinds, and especially not without a good, easily-transported step ladder, such as W. F. MeCullock, of Sterling, Va., has sketched and de scribed. Take two light wheels. such as are found on a sulky plow, for in stance. Bolt spindles on a 4x4 inch stick of the desired length. Bolt 2x3 inch pieces to the 4x4 axle, and to the ladder at the top. Brace well, and put on handles to make a kind of push eart or wheelbarrow of it, and the thing is done. If you have peach, plum or pear trees, you will need a step lad der very soon. Some of these trees now promise to set fruit very abanadantly. Don't leave it all on, but rather take an early opportunity and remove, by picking or knocking off, from one-half to four-fifths of all the specimens, and thus secure the full development and highest quality of the remaining spec imens. All fruit growers whose fruit has made a reputation for them by its size, high color and fine quality, prac tice not only thinning in general, but thinning quite severely, and every one who loves really choice fruit, and cares little for a large number of under-sized, ill-looking and ill-tasting fruits, can do no better than to follow in the foot steps of the successful commercial growers like the Hales, of the Wooden Nutmeg state.-Practical Farmer. FARM DAIRYING. Select Good Cows and Raise Good Corn for Soiling. There are a good many requirements for success in managing a farm dairy, says a writer in Practical Farmer. It is saving the little wastes which puts the balance on the right side of the ac count at the end of the year. Select cows which will test five per cent. fat in the milk, of whatever breed you choose, and use only full-blood sires, and you will soon have cows which will do their part toward placing the bal ance on the profitable side. Give them good food 865 days in the year and plenty of pure water. Provide good pasture in summer and some good soil ing crops.to feed when the pasture com mences to dry up in early autumn. For a soiling crop I consider corn the best and cheapest. I give them six hills of corn each day after they have become accustomed to it. For my earliest soiling I use Early Cory corn planted in hills two and a half by two and a half feet apart. It matures suffi ciently for feeding in about sixty days from the time of planting and is good for table use as well as for cow feed. Estimate the amount of it you will need for three weeks' feeding. Plant enough Early Minnesota sweet corn for the next three weeks and enough Main moth Sweet to last until winter. Only a small percentage of the dairymen of the country realize the value of osweet corn as a food for milk cows. For win ter feed I consider ensilage valuable, furnishing cheap and succulent food. Plant for ensilage the largest growing variety of corn which will mature in your locality. Raise as much of your grain feed on the farm as possible and feed a good grain ration during the winter. THE CHISEL WEEDER. An Emclent Instrument for Removing Large Weeds. In times of drought, it is often diffi cult to remove large weeds from among the rows of plants. An ordinary two L WEEDING CHISELS. inch wood chisel, kept well sharpened, is one of the most efficient instruments for this purpose, as the keen edge and the weight of the chisel will cut through the most fibrous weed. With a short handled chisel, one must kneel or bend over, and the resulting back aches are far from satisfactory. Tihe accompanying illustration from a sketch by J. L. Townsend, of Utah, shows how such a weeding chisel can be inserted in a long hoe or fork han dle, and it is then feasible to stand up while fighting the weeds, which often grow faster than one man can pull them by hand. Narrow hand hoes or the tomahawk or arrow head hoes may do good service, but they cannot comr* pete with a long handled weeding chisel in the hands of a vigorous gar dener. The chisel is especially adapted to the weeding of sugar beets and other root crops in weedy or dried-out soil.-American Agriculturist. The Temperature oft Cream. The best of cream mny be spoiled in the churn by too much cold or heat, and by over churning. The intelligent use of a churn thermometer that may be bought for from .5 to .50 pents will reg ulate all troubles from these pcauses, and thereby greatly lighten one of the most laborious operations of the farm ho-me BANGS' LITTLE SCHEME. it Would Have Worked An Bight Wad WIe Wife Carried Out Her Part. 4 Bangs was anxious to join a party of night owls for a Saturday night's frolic in the city a few weeks ago. Just what excuse to make to his wife puzzled him. Bangs has a beautiful summer home in the country within an hour's ride of his office. Bangs and I were schoolboys together. I am a frequent visitor at his home. Bangs had an idea; he thought of me. "I say, old chap," said he, when we met, "I want you to do me a big favor. You see, I have-that is I-well, I have some business on hand that will keep me in the city until late to-night. Now, I want you to entertain Lucy while I am away. She'll be so lonesome, you know. She wants to go to the theater. Suppose you telegraph her that you have tickets. Tell her to meet you at the Grand Central depot. Take her to dinner, the theater and to supper after ward. Be sure you catch the midnight train, though. I'll foot the bills." And then the villain confessed. "Just a little lark," he said. "Lucy'd give me fits if she knew. I'm played out for excuses. But this, I know, will work admirably. I'll go home now asa bluff. Then I'll be there when she receives your telegram and urge her to go. I'll be greatly surprised, too. Change will do her good, and all that. I'll stay home and mind the house. D'ye see? "Then I'll go out for a walk. She will not wait for my return, but will go right to the depot. Of course I'll be in the city before she is. I'll return on the eleven o'clock train, jump into bed, and pretend to be asleep when she comes in. I'll even matters up with her the next day by a gentle scolding for staying out so late. She'll let up on me then for my past misdeeds." I agreed. The telegram was sent. Bangs went home and returned to the city as agreed upon. The scheme was working beautifully until I received this dispatch: Sorry, can't co je. Lict. Shortly before midnight Bangs poor, deluded Bangs!-opened the gate There was a light in his front parlor, but fe failed to notice it. "My sweet heart's the man in the moon," he war bled as he opened the front door. He gave a start. His cigar dropped from his fingers. "'I-I thought"-he gasped. Before him, like an avenging Nemesis, stood his wife. "I don't think I know," said Mrs. Bangs, and the look she gave Bangs nearly froze all the blood in his veins. I never could get Bangs to tell me just what happened afterward. Mrs. Bangs, however, informed me on the following Sunday when I called that "that night is a subject I do not care to discuss."-N. Y. Herald. RIGHT OR LEFT HAND. Reasons for Giving to the Latter Some of the Honor Paid to the Former. The despised left hand makes good .ts claims in many cases to be the defter of the two. The fingers that touch and adjust with such nicety the strings of the violin are surely as cun ning as those that move the bow. The hand that guides the reins and steers with exactness the horse through the crowded streets is quite as cunning as, one might say much more than, the hand that wields the whip. But great is fashion, unanswerable is theory. It would appear that as life becomes more and more complex we are becoming more and more specialized, and the difference between our limbs is encouraged, rather than hindered, by every pair of scissors turned off at Shef field, by every screw made in Birming ham and by every slap administered to the young offending fingers that would dare to shake hands incorrectly. It is curious to note the vagaries of humanity in cases where no hard and fast line has already been drawn. Al though most right-handed persons put on their coats left arm first, a consider able percentage thrust in the right first. Soldiers fire from the right shoul der, but sportsmen are found who pre fer the left. In working with the spade a proportion of right-handed men grasp the spade with the left and push with left foot and right hand; though, when using an ax, the same individuals would grasp furthest down the right. The Persians mount their horses from the right side, which is the different side from that mounted by Europeans. The buttons on coats, etc., are placed on the right side and the shed of the hair in boys to the left evidently to suit manipulation by the right hand. The great philosopher Newton records that at first he confined his astronomical ob servations to his right eye, but after ward he managed to train his left. But there are persons who could not do this, owing to the unequal strength of their eyes. Strange to say, the Chinese assign the place of honor to the left. At Kunyenye, in Africa, Cameron re lates being introduced to the heir pre sumptive to the throne, the nails of whose left hand had been allowed to grow to an enormous length as a sign of high rank, proving that he was never required to perform manual labor, and also providing him with the means of tearing the meat which formed his usual diet.-Chambers' Journal. No Fowethought. Mr. WVavback-Some folks ain't got sense enough to come in when it rains. Did you see that long-haired chap with his arms full o' bundles? Mrs. WVayback-No; who? Mir. WVayback-Don't know; but he is down there at the old pond paintin' a picture of that tumble-down mill. He might know that mill wasn't built right, er it wouldn't a' been allowed to go to rack and ruin. Now I s'pose he'll go off an' put up one just like it, and lose every cent he's got.-N. Y. Weekly. An Important Matter. Doctor-Now, here is a bottle of fine whisky, and I want you to take a ta blespoon of it every morning before breakfast. Patient---Doe, I'm in the habit of taking about a mule's ear full of the stuff at exactly that time of the day. Is this spoonful to be added to the reg ular a lowance?-Detroit Free Press. DOMESTtC CONCERNS. -Ginger Beer: Use five gallons of water, one-half pound of ginger-root boiled, four pounds sugar, one-eighth pounid cream of tartar, one bottle es sence of lemon, one ounce of tartaric acid and one quart of yeast.-Prairie Farmer. -Graham Gruel: Mix one tablespoon ful of graham meal in four tablespoon fuls of cold water: cook twenty min utes, then stir in half a teaspoonful of salt and cook ten minutes longer. Put a gill of this gruel into a cup,with half as much cream or milk, and serve hot. -Housekeeper. -Ginger Snapsabne teacupful of butter and lard mixed, two teacupfuls molasses, an even teaspoonful soda dis solved in one-half teacupful boiling water, one tablespoonful ginger and a teaspoonful cinnamon. Add flour to roll out thin, place not too close to gether in a greased pan and bake to a nice brown.-Orange Judd Farmer. -Quail on Toast: Take a quail, split it down the back, remove the entrails and wipe it clean; after dredging with salt, boil ten minutes over a clear fire. Serve at once on a slice of toast, laying the quail on the toast breast up. A little butter may be spread on the bird before broiling, and flour sprinkled on it, if the invalid is not very sick. Housekeeper. -Gooseberry Tam: To every quart of gooseberries use a pound of loaf su gar; put the sugar in a preserving pan with enough water to dissolve it, boil and skim it well, then put in the berries; let them boil ten minutes, then set away until next day; then boil until they look clear and the sirup is thick; then turn into glasses and cover with brandy papers. -Steamed Indian Pudding: One pint milk; two eggs. one and a half cups Indian meal; two small table spoonfuls beef suet; two tablespoon fuls molasses; half-teaspoonful each of cinnamon and ground ginger; salt spoonful salt; pinch of soda. Heat the milk boiling hot; add the soda and pour upon the meal. Stir well; add the suet, powdered, and the salt. When this Tnixture is cold, put with it the eggs, beaten light, the mollasses and spices, and beat all hard. Turn into a well greased mold and steam four hours. Eat with hard sauce.-Outlook. -Pressed Chicken: Take a large plump chicken; wipe well with a damp towel, put in a kettle, and cover with water. Place over a moderate fire, and let simmer gently until very tender. When done take the meat from the bones and cut in small pieces. Put the bones and scraps back into the kettle and let boil until the liquid is thick; strain, and season with salt and pep per. Arrange the chicken in a square tin mold, pour the liquid over, place a light weight on top, pd stand in a cold place over night. When cold and firm, turn out of the mold, garnish with slices of lemon and parsley. Serve in thin slices.--Harper's Bazar. The Revlval of Brown. As if in protest against the blue serge frocks that are so generally popular, there is a sudden return to brown shades of serge, sacking or whip-cord for the tailor gown which women of fashion provide at this season of the year for the cool days that are sure to come at the seashore or in the moun tains. The tobacco shades known as Havana-brown are used in preference to the chocolate tints of last year, and these sober gowns are most severely fashioned in long coats without trim ming, and a well-cut skirt equally plain. The coat falls almost to the knee, and opens with very simple revers on a waistcoat of tan owhite duck, or of the spotted vesting of mixed silk and wool used by men. A linen chemisette with tucked front and rolled-over collar is worn with a nar row black tie of satin tied in a small bow. A small turban of coarse brown straw with ccru satin choux and wings or quills is a suitable hat with this dress when the broad-brimmed sailor hat is not becoming. The marquise hat of black amour tress, or else of rice straw with simple trimming, is also appropriate, and may have a bit of green introduced. Tan-colored Suede gloves and low tan shoes with stock ings to match complete the costume.-. Harper's Bazar. Inexpensive MIats. For a series of pretty mats fine white shirting linen is selected, the delign being transferred by using transfer paper. This is worked solidly in smooth satin stitch with two threads of white noselle. Use one thread of golden yellow silk for outlining the whole design, with the same for stem work or for feather edge around the circle. These designs are suitable also for silk or velvet to use under vases or bric-a-brac. Fine twisted silk is used for the embroidery, with gold thread for stems; or, if a more elegant effect is desired, bullion and gold thread may be used with good effect. This makes a pretty accompaniment to a handsome vase or a Christmas gift-the mat to be of heavy silk. The delicate colors of the vase may be carried out in the coloring of the design.--St. Louis Re public. Modlish Ideas. Skirts covered with ruffles from hem to waist line are much liked. Children have something new in the great white cape bonnets of late, with colored ribbon trimmings. These bon nets are quaint and charming to look at, but no one will be able to see the baby inside. In millinery black hats for the moment dominate the mode. Some at tractive black chip hats are trimmed witia fine imitation of old point lace variously arranged on brim and crown. Yellow flowers, also petunlacolor blooms, are effective additions to such hatas Large picture hats of leghorn will be worn with the black satin gowns, which are again in high favor. Three cornered or revolutionary hats are much worn this summer; and, suitably chosen, trimned, and worn, are be Ioming.--Chioago MLail PITH AND POINT. -"'Why did cholly sell his bird dog and get that silly little pup?" Estelle -"He wanted him just for company I suppose."-Inter Ocean. \ -Aunt---"Well, Bobby, what do you want to be when you grow up?" Bobby (remembering private seance in the woodshed)-"An orphan." -Tommy-"Paw, why do they al ways make the picturesof Father Time so lean?" Mr. Figg-"So he will rep resent spare time; of course."-Indi anapolis Journal. -Unfortunately Expressed.-Maude -"Yes, I am obliged to have my shoes made to order. My left foot is larger than my right." Ethel--"Is it possi ble?"-Boston Transcript. . -He--"What kind of a story did that tramp trump up to get his breakfast?" She-"None at all. He said he'd seen a good many babies, but our Teddy was ahead of them all."-Inter-Ocean. -From Lack of Exercise.-Askcn- "What kind of a fellow is Dumleigh?" Tell-"WVell, Dumleigh is a fellow who, if he were to think twice before he spoke, would lose the use of his voice." -Puck. -Probably'an Exaggeration.-Snooks -"What makes you so glum? You say her father did all he could to hasten your suit." Sledgeby-"You do not seem to realize that I was in the suit at the time."-Truth. -Mrs. Hicks--"A man was here to day who gets a living by reading the hands. lie wanted four dollars." Hicks -'Some swindler, wasn't he?" Mrs. Hicks-"Yes; he read the hands on our gas meter."-N. Y. Times. -Animal Life. - Doolittle Goode "HIow did you spend your vacation?" Somers Holliday--"Oh, I led a dog's life!" Doolittle Goode - "No! What did you do?" Somers Holliday-"Lay around and slept."-Puck. -"Do I make myself plain?" asked the angular lecturer on woman's rights, stopping in the middle of her discourse. "You don't have to, mum," replied a voice from the rear; "the Lord done it for you long ago."-Vogue. -Mr. Mix (reading a headline from the newspaper)--"lIe jumps into the water and saves her life." Mrs. Mix "A truly noble husband." Mr. Mix "Great Scott, Maria, what an old fogy you are! It wasn't his wife."-N. Y. Times. -Senior Varden-"I see that Mush room college has just made Rev. 2Mr. Prosy a D.D. As he is now a doctor I wonder what kind of medicine he will dispense to his parishioners." Senior Deacon-"O, anodynes, the same as usual."-N. Y. Tribune. - .-Boerum(doing his best to make a favorable impression, has just finished his best anecdote)-"Ha! ha! ha! That's a pretty good story, now." Miss Acres-"Yes, I think so, too. And they say poor Uncle Phil, who was killed at Gettysburg, never tired of hearing it."-Life's Calendar. -The addresses of a young man hav ing been declined by a 'young lady, lie paid court to her sister. "How much you resemble your sister," said he, the evening of the first call. "You have the same hair, the same forehead, and the same eyes-" "And the same nose!" she added quickly.-Tit-Bits. ADVENTURE IN A BALLOON. Galbriel's Trumpet Awakens a Village from Its Peaceful Slumlers. It was indeed the fierce bluster of the gale tearing its way through leaf and branch that we heard. If the bal loon should dash against the hedge of spears ambushed there, it would be not only wreck, but the sharpest peril of life. "We .must trust to luck," said Donaldson, grinding his teeth; "we can't do anything. But be ready to spring for a big limb and hold on for dear life when I give the word." We were not long in suspense. The downpour suddenly lessened, and our balloon rose a little. It still thundered and lightned, but the rage of the storml had spent itself. The captain clutched my hand with a hard grip. "W1e're all right now." with a quiver in his voice, for his iron nerve had been shaken; "but let me tell you, you will never be so near death again and escape it." lie bent over the side of the basket. "I think there's a village close at hand. Look sharp and you will see the twin kle of a light down there." And it was so, surely. As we moved on more lights shot into view. We were hovering over a valley between two mountain ridges, one of which had been so nearly our ruin. It was an hour after midnight and the villagers were asleep. Donald son's gaiety frothed like champagne after our recent danger. "We'll wake the people from their dreams with a blast from the skies " He laughed and seized a bugle which hung near at hand. "How's this for Gabriel's horn?" He blew notes of piercing sweetness (he had been an army bugler), which rose and swelled and sent their wild echoes flying among those midnight hills. Lights began to shine in every house, and moving lanterns and the clatter of voices betokened a general alarm. What this 9nidnight summons out of the skies might mean filled the rural fancy with terror, and the note of fear could be heard in many of the voices which floated up to us. We were so near the earth that we could hear the drag-rope slapping the sticks and stones with its tail. "Village aho-o-oy!" whooped the cap tain at the top of his lungs. "Aho-o-oy there! Bear a hand, you land-lubbers, at the rope and pull us down to earth!" So our rustle friends, with a hearty cheer, tumbled over each other in their zeal to get hold of the rope-fearow blown away by admirationad were soon safely on the gro -' our air-ship anchored for the Chicago Mail. The .esser Wea4 , "I told you," said the teacher apolo-- getically to Tommy, '"that I should whip you if you did not tell your fa ther you had run away-i'oi sehool, didn't Ii"' "That's all right," responded Thom as. "I didn't tell him. One of your lickin's is a plcnic by the side of one q6 ded'ce"-quip - .-,