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The Banner-Democrat. (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, May 01, 1897, Image 1

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Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn88064237/1897-05-01/ed-1/seq-1/

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CHTAPTEIt III-Continued.
"I thought you were afraid of the wet
Fandl," she said. 'If you entertain any
fears for your delicate constitution I ad
vise you to return to the village."
"'H hich is a ptllits way of expressing
your wish to be rid of me; but I have no
desire to spend the day in those hen
coops. There's the sun now. Blessed
sight! I'm going to move this shawl up
there where it is dryer. May I? It is
positively suicidal to sit here. If you
should be ill, T'll have to act as Escu
lapias, for there isn't a man of pills and
squills in the whole village, I'm told.
So o warned in time."
"it will be more prudent, no doubt,"
admitted Margaret, allowing him to
move the shawl in question, "but we
can't see the waves so well."
"That's no great l:ss. We know they
are there, which is just hs good. Do
you know, I've bet n thinking of you all
night. Really, I had a strange dream
in which you seemed to be leading me,
and some influence compelled me to fol
low. Don't look, skeptical, please, and
say nonsense. It was all very real, I
assure you. One of those old men
called you Miss Margaret. Please tell
me if that is your name? I have quite a
curiosity to know."
"Your curiosity Is easily satisfied. My
name is Margaret."
"Thanks. I've always had an odd
fancy for the name. It seems to mean
so much. It is her name, too. ('urious,
isn't It?"
"Not at all," responded Margaret
promptly. "Ti- namie is <omnion
enough, I dare say."
"Perhaps. I like it, nevertheless. I
only wish she were like you."
Margaret moved impatiently, end re
plied with a susuicion of petulance:
"I'm like myself and no one else.
'Variety is the spice of life;' so please
don't compare me with any unknown
'she's.' "'
"Oh, this one's tolerable enough," he
rejoined, "and smart, too,_I dare say.
She's managed to feather her nest at
my expense. Perhaps she's gloating
over me at this very moment."
"How can you say that?" asked Mar
garet, with some warmth. "You have no
right to judge people that way. She
may hate the very sight of the money."
"Money!" repeated Brian, in apote
surprise. "I said nothing about money."
"No," she returned, thoroughly angry
with herself; "but I am sure money has
something to do with the injury you
speak of. I know she isn't so hateful
as you think her. It is neither just nor
right to condemn her unheard."
He laughed at her earnestness. "I
suppose she isn't a bad sort," he ad
mitted, pulling at some seaweed beside
him. "I don't see why you take such
an interest in her, though."
She flushed at these direct words.
"I speak in general terms," she re
plied, unable to meet his searching
glance. "I simply say you have no right
to assume certain things, and I wish
you would not run people down in my
presence, especially when I don't know
them, and cannot, take their part. I hate
it; it is against my principles, and it's
contemptible besides."
She rose to her feet and walked away
in some excitement, already regretting
her childish warmth.
"Tell me about it," she added, im
periously, returning to her old place.
What did your cousin do?"
Another mistake. She bit her lips as
the word cousin escaped her, but for
tunately Brian had not noticed it.
"Do?" he echoed, still regarding het
with an amazed expression. "She didn't
do anything. Only my father happened
to think so much of her and to little ol
me that he left her a fortune and me a
beggarly income to starve on. No use
living without money either. But I'll
forgive her if she marries me, and I
dare say she will."
The confidence of this assertion was
too much for Margaret.
"Didn't I understand you to say yoe
had never met her?" she asked, in a
voice unnaturally quiet and full of scorn,
that made no impression upon him. He
replied in the most imperturbable man
'No, I haven't seen her, that's true:
but I dare say she'll make a good wife,
These words further enraged Mar.
"How dare you," she cried, without
giving him a chance to complete hi!
sentence. "I never heard of such un
paralleled impudence in my life. I dare
say you consider your charms so over
'whelming that' every woman must be
overcome by the bare sight of them. 11
I were your cousin you would very soot
dbiscover your mistake.. A conceited mar
is the very abomination of deselatoa."
"You ahow your ootelrpt very freely,'
returned Brian, not overpleased witt
ber.remarks. "If I suggest the idea ci
my cotain'a marrying me it is beoeust
of the clroumstanoeeS. Father wouli
have lkLd it. I'know. Perhaps he had
the idea in hlse head when he made his
Ma~r~set~museFe .at these words,
but she did not ·anweer.
"An4 don't yo.Auow" Brian eoar
tinued, with a -iE l uIi. as he
turned laslly In hi eforkt'W tg etI
face, "a man an marry eay woman he
rhooe, provIled he goes about-it tbhe
right wy. o weman an wlthstabdl
the re
* ~ aair
i'~ *I'~ .L~,\lllCS~C 1~~II I~
"Heaven forbid! How tiresome such "
a perfect creature would be, and what a e
curiosity. No; I like men. Real, ac
tual men. Not ornamental show pieces." t
"Like me, for instance. How compli
nmentary you are. But the truth is I t
sha'n't be even ornamental, if circun'
stances don't change." P
He looked away from Margaret as he e
I uttered the last words and began to t
mako marks with his heel in the sand. e
She watched his movements, but her F
mind was following up an engrossing <
train of thought.
".\re you going to sit still and allow t
your life to map itself?" she asked, after
a second's pause. "It seems to me you I
have an opportunity to make a future t
for yourself. Why don't you take a:i- i
vantage of it? I do admire a man who i
can light against obstacles, and who a
wins for himself a great name and a l
high position, not because of, but in i
spite of the accidents of fortune. And (
I certainly cannot understand how any 1
person with ordinary talents can go '
through life with no ambition above I
amusement. I grow disgusted with thy
self." e
"It is just as I expected," replied i
Brian, endeavoring to speak lightly.
"You're strong-minded."
"Thanks. I consider your remark a
compliment, though you may not mean
it as such. I don't admire weak-mindel
men or women. I am gladto have ideas i
of my own, andl not to be swayed by
every passing word. You are laughing
again. I suppose you consider me vastly
amusing, but I think myself vastly non
sensical. There is something in the air, i
I dare say, or in the company," she con
cluded mischievously.
"The company without doubt," he
agreed. "I never pretended to amount I
to much, and I know I never shall. That
is why I never considered it worth an I
" Why not?" she asked quickly, some
instinct prompting her sympathy. "You
have so much before you. It is never
too late to begin, neither is it ever too
early. That sounds like a paradox,
doesn't it? Your profession is an ad
vantage in itself. It is such a noble
"A dog's life when it cotn ýs to practice,
he answered. "I tell you there's a lot
of sentimentality in the world. People
talk about thisthing and that thing be
ing ennobling and elevating, and all
that nonsense, when they know about
as much of it as I do of heaven. Much
good medicine has ever done me. I've
got my diploma. I've lugged it all over
Europe, but it hasn!t seen the light of
dlay for many a long month. I know
this don't suit your ideas, but I never
realized tile need of practicing for a
living. I expected to be independent,
and where was the need?"
"But now?" questioned Margaret.
"'Oh, now, mny beloved cousin has
stepped in and I'm as poor as the devil.
I beg your pardon. The words are
forcible but expressive. The feeling is
wretched, but the experience worse. I'll
worry along somehow, unless a certain
event come stout. Are you going:"
"Yes," she returned, half absently
gathering her things together. 'I am
hungry. I think it, must be twelve
o'clock, and here in S'conset we dine at
that unfashionable hour."
"A barbarous practice, but now that
you speak of it, I begin to feel some in
ward cravings myself. May I walk un
der the shadow of your wing?"
Without awaiting her permission he
possessed himself of her shawl and
! trudged by her side through 'the deep
sand to the village.
Turning from o::e of the grotesque
little streets, into a more grotesque
Broadway, Margagaret found that her ap
petite had been a true guide. It was
twelve o'clock, and all S'conset was go
ing to dinner. This pleasant duty
8'conset never forgot, it being one of
the unwritten, yet faithfully observed,
laws of the small town that, whatever
the individual's occupation at- the mo
ment, the stroke of twelve should flli
him ready, and all ideas gave way to the'
After leaving Margaret Brian found
his own appetite had increased to an
alarming extent, and he very gladly be
took himself to his unpretentious abode
and the meal awaiting him.
He did full justice to tle latter, and
at the same time managed to take in
the history of Captain Folger's eight
brothers and sisters, all of whom had
reached their eightieth year and were
still in the lanc of the living. As he
showed some skepticism on this latter
point, the Captain proposed a cruise to
town, where the house in which they
Swere all born should be pointed out to
him. It is needless to say Brian was
still unconvinced. He afterward dis
covered that town meant Nantucket,
and cruise was the Captain's word for
These old seamen do not take kindly
to the expressions of landsmen. They
will greet you with the salutation,
"Where are you heading?" instead of
"Where are you glng'?" They will
agree to "land" milk anti vegetables at.
your door, and if you lhappen to be rid
ing with an old captain you may 1,e re
quested to shift your seat fore or aft,
or midship, or to sit to thile leeward, s
tile case may be. It is even said,
thoughl we are not bound to believe it,
that when the whaling industry failed
through the discovery of coal oil, the
old salts, obliged through necessity and
not choice, to take to farming, en
countered much d(ificulty from the fact
that their oxen were land animals, and
I when commanded to go to port or star
board were too obtuse to obey the orden"
S*Horses were equally trying. oon
trary to tactics on shipboard, a1il on
the port rein made the animP' s eer to
portl, when the old e aptaIras bent on
having him go to .t •
Under sobdi PfllmW plowlig was slow
work  a a decidedly diascour
1re lhad dIsposed of the
duty ofd eating and J1stennlg he
some time rn walknlag up and down
tfeL'C ..a& the griin smeaulluaie,j
.Ne be ie to the old pu rswtqd to
ling ot - " - " ,
~U91Itt4,~ eN i 4 oiY
plemented by grotesque ornamentation
in the, nature of nameboards of ships,
fantastic scroll work from unknown
prows, and gayly painted figureheads
made them the strangest-looking houses
in the experience of man. Such names
as "The Barnacle," "The Anchorage,"
"Castle Bandbox," "Big Enough," and
"The Sardine Box" suggested. another
element of originality.
"It beats me," commented Brian, in
terms evidently intelligible to himself.
"Nothing interesting about them,
though. I wish she'd come."
"Shie" not making her appearance to
suit his convenience, he decided to go in
search of her. He found her sitting in
the doorway of her little cottage sewing,
and ithout asking permission, but only
sorry he had not conme before, he sat
down beside her and proceeded to give
her a ludicrous description of the cot
tages he lhat seen.
"You come the day after the fair," she
laughed in answer. 'I've not only se-n
their exterior but their interiors also.
Did you notice C'aptain Baxter's old
house? You must have, I think. It is
near the pump. They say it is two
hundred years old. Looks like it, doesn't
it? Some day I want you to see the
curiosities it contains. The greatest
lot. Some of them come from the
furthest corners of the earth. The hous;
has a real laughable history, too, but
I'll let ('aptain Baxter tell you that. In
story telling he is unapproachable.
Have you written to your aunt? She
might be worried."
"Oh, she's all right," he answered.
"I'll write to-morrow. Do you like to
"Not particularly. But we're often
obliged to do what we don't like."
"She's poor," decided Brian. "I thought
so all the time. Confound it."
This conclusion was quite a surprise
to himself. Why Margaret's poverty
should affect hint was a problem des
tined for future solution. When he was
leaving her at supper time lie asked per
mission to call around in the evening,
but she shook her head resolutely.
"No; it will not be worth while. I goto
bed at eight o'clock. Don't look so hor
rifled. I know it is a nursery hour, but
after you've been here a day or so you
will feel the effects too, and be very glad
to creep into bed even that early. Be
sides, the doctor ordered rest and quiet
when I came here, and I'm obeying his
command to the letter. I dare say I'll
see you to-morrow. If you want diver
sion this evening go to the club house;
you'll find all the men there assembled
smoking their pipes, and discussing the
prospects for lishing to-morrow. You
may gain much information."
Brian did not follow this advice. In
stead, he spent the evening in a high
state of discontent, and went to bed at
half-past eight. -
Origin of a Soup.
The exiles who took refuge in ton
don at the time of the French Revo
lution met the poverty and hard
ships of their lot with much cour
age. They never begged, and it was
often difficult to induce them to ac
cept the funds subscribed for their
The women did not accept the
partially w,:rn and soiled clothing of
wealthy and charitably inclined
ladies. as most women in their con
dition would have been glad to do,
but managed with the cheapest
materials to dress neatly and taste
Their necessities developed an in
ventive spirit. The records of the
London Patent Office at the begin
ning of the eighteenth century have
on every page such names as Blon
deau, IDupin, Cardonel, Gastineau,
Leblond, and Courant. How in
genious they were in utilizing the
most unpromising of materials is
shown by their invention of a now
famous dish.
When -she London " butchers
slaughtered their beef they were ac
customed to throw, away the tails
with the refuse. The French wom
en had the bright idea of buying
them, since they could get them for
: next to nothing, and making soup of
them. And thus they gave to En
gland the popular ox-tail soup, which
loyal Englishmen now consider an
essentially national dish.
How Navajas Hunt Prttrle Dolg.
A Navajo will stick a bit of mirror
in the entrance of a burrow and lie
behind the little mound all day if
need be to secure the coveted prize of
a fat prairie dog. When Mr. Tusa
ventures from his bed-room deep un
dergrouqd he sees a familiar image
mocking him at the front door, and
when he hurries out to confront this
impudent intruder, whiz! goes a
chalcedony tipped arrow through him.
Spinning him to the ground so that lihe
cannot tumble back into his home,
I as he has a wonderful faculty for do
ing even in death, or a dark hand
darts from behind like lightning,
seizes his chunky neck safely beyond
the reach of his chisel-shaped teeth
and breaks his spine with one sywt
snap.-St. Nicholas.
Eyelashe8 snd Eyebrows.
For those people who Mfit t(o matke
their lashes longer n1ore regular,
the following~ . Estions may be of
use: Examl' th'e eyelashes care
fully onc vy one, trimming with a
paicr issors any which are split.
eed or crooked. Then anoint the
ease of the lashes every night with a
minute quantity of oil of cajuput on
the top of a camel hair brush. If
this is repeated sedulously for a few
months the result is most gratifying.
Beautiful arched eyebrows are like
wise a gtbt detail of beauty and are
not to be underrated, It is best not
to trim the eyebrow, as it makes if
coarse, but It it is desired tostrength
en or bhicken- it a few drops of can:J
put-oil may be safely rubbed into the
skin every other night.--Detroff
STribunte .
The fuaotio of a egro's black
skai is suppoed to be the coaverion
of the sun's light Inta list. The
Ji~ithus geiuerstedsAseals rn the
soot-$ebateste *- h
I'rimes Which Startled the Countrj
on Both Sides of the Rio
Grande-Killing of a
Sherifi's Posse.
INOE the Apache Chief, Geron
imo, has been taught the cus
toms and manners of his white
brethren at the Indian prison
and echool in Alabama, there has been
no redskin, according to the Chicago
Record, who has had so much public
attention as Apache Kid. For six
years he has been making bloody his
tory along the Rio Grande and Mexi
can border. A recent report of the
War Department at Washington shows
that movements of the military, con
sequent upon the depredations of this
savage outlaw, have cost Uncle Sam
altogether over $50,000, and that
troops in President Diaz's Government
across the border have been harassed
by the Kid since 1893, when the Kid
became a more regular dweller in the
Republic of Mexico. At different
times there have been as many as 400
trained soldiers of the plains, both on
the American and the Mexican sides
of the Rio Grande, in search of Apache
Kid, while military scouts and United
States Marshals and Government
police officers by the score have
labored and schemed long and vainly
for the arrest of the Indian, hoping
thereby to obtain the reward of $ 000
offered for the capture of this rene
A great deal has been written about
Apache Kid that is not true. Nothing
romantic is connected with his history.
It is one series of bloodthirsty mur
ders, malicious robberies and unnamed
villainies. The truth as told by the
army officers and citizens who live in
the country adjacent to the San Carlos
reservation, who remember this Indian
well, makes him no hero. He is a
short, stocky, full-blooded Apache.
He is wiry and bold,and has never had
an hour's education in any Govern
ment or private school. He has lived
always in Arizona, and only left there
when the troops and his own race
sought to end his career becalse of his
many crimes. Then he persisted in
returning to add to his deeds by steal
ing stock and murdering people for
their personal property.
The Kid was a sergeant of Indian
scouts under General Crook in the
Geronimo campaign, when he rendered
valuable services. He is skillful in
Indian warfare, a dead shot at short
range and a wonderful trailer. He
has seen enough of troopers too, to
be able to outwit them when he is
In March, 1888, the Kid asked Al
bert Sebring, who was chief of the
scouts of the San Carlos agency, for
permission .to leave upon a special
mission. When questioned about this
he stated that he had a deed of honor
to perform. Some years before a
Pima Indian had killed a relative of
Apache Kid, and it devolved upon
him once a year to go out and kill a
Pima Indian as an atonement for the
peace of his dead relative. Sebring
refused the request and tried to in
culcate into Apache Kid's mind the
moral truth of loving one's enemies.
The army men, familiar with the Kid's
ways, knew that Sebring was wasting
time and they were not surprised one
morning to find the Indian had disap
In June the Kid came back and,
being immediately put under arrest,
was taken to Captain D. E. Pierce's
tent. Immediately there was excite
ment among the.iriends of Apache Kid
and several shots were fired through
the canvas of the tent. Amid the
confusion the Kid recovered his car
bine, sprang aside, jumped upon a
horse behind a comrade and the
mutinous scout fled. The mutineers
went toward old Mexico, killed two
white men in the Galliuro mountain
passes on the way, but were so closely
pursuned that they doubled on their
tracks and returned to the reservation.
All were arrested. Some were hanged
for murder and Kid and four other
scouts were courtmarshaled and sent
to'Alcatraz. To the surprise of some
military officers the President soon
pardoned the Kid and his companioa
and they returned to Arizona.
In 1889 indiotments for ·der were
found against Apache Wed a5d several
other Indians. T7 were arrested by
Captain Bnl". agent at San Carlos,
and deM~tad to the civil authorities
of Arlsons. Sheriff Glen Reynolds,
eputy Holmes and a teamster named
Middleton took the Kid, seven other
Indians and a Mexican and started in
a wagon for Yuma, where the Indian
murderers were to have been hanged.
One day early in November, 1889, the
party was toiling slowly over a hard
road. To relieve the horses the Sheriff
made his prisoners walk up a steep
hill--all but one who was lame or
pretended to be so. The sheriff walked
in front, the prisoners followed,
shackled in couples, while Deputy
Holmes walked behind, the wagon
containing Middleton and the lame
prisoner bringing up the rear.
At a concerted signal the prisoners
hurled themselves upon the two oti
cers and bore them to the ground,
whaile the Indian in the wagon'seized
Middleton's pistol and shot him in the
faee. The officers were beaten to death
with atones; Middleton was shot again
and left for dead. The Mexican made
his escape before the Indtns got rid
of their shackles. They robbed the
body of the sheriff of a gold watch
and $800 in eash. Amig them.
seltves with the Mdltee' aipose
the Apeebes fld ijto auntain&
, 'This etl 7 of la4isa, souiusted the
I w)Iehwi.im I la
stock and committing so many depre
dations as to create q panic among the
settlers of the sparsely cultivated re
gions. The party did not remain to
gether long. The cavalry from Fort
Bowie were in hot pursuit and 100
cowboys' and settlers joined in the
chase for the fugitives. Hotly pressed
the band separated and ene by one in
time the Indians sneaked back to the
reservation. They have since told
stories, which have been verified, of
the murders of settlers both north and
south of the Rio Grande and in the
Rincon range of mountains. All these
were prompted by thl Kid.
In July, 1891, the Kid by night
traveled slowly down from the im
penetrable.fastnesses of the Galliuro
mountains and crossed the cactus
deserts to the Qila river country,where
he hid for days on the outskirts of the
San Carlos reservation. In some way
he got word to a former girl companion
and she went out secretly one night to
visit her Indian lover. He had at hand
an extra horse stolen from 'a ranch
near by, and when she came to him he
forced her to mount and fly with him
back to his retreat in the mountains.
The girl was compelled to live with
Kid and his gang for over a year. She
returned to the family wickyup on the
reservation, after suffering severe
privations and at the risk of her life.
Several times in the Kid's camp
when preparations were made for the
slaughter of a party of ranchman or
travelers found along the mountain
trails or desert roads.she was tzed o a
tree and a bag put over her head so
that she could neither escape nor see
in what direction the murderers had
gone. When a day or two later the
savages sari that they were not being
followed by troops or avengers of their
latest crime, the Indians would return
to free her, only to force her to ao
company them to new scene.s of rob
bery and murder. One or two of her
stories concerning the killing of
women and children, who were al-.
ways reserved until the last because
they could do no harm to the savages,
were most horrifying. She was blind
folded and coutd follow the move
ments of the band by sound. The
screams of the women indicated to her
how horrible were their deaths.
It may be said in defense of the Kid
that for years he has been charged
with crimes which were. committed by
drunken cowboys or murderous Mexi
cans. His companions dwindled away
until he practically became an Ish
maclite and a wanderer, alone. He
knows now that he is hated by all
people and that a price is placed upon
his head. He can no longer hope for
a.friendly hand from any Indian skulk
ing off from the reservation in search
of game. Theolast seen of the Kid was
about a year ago along the bor4er,
when a cowboy happened to get too
near to where the Kid was hiding. The
cowboy was wounded but escaped' to
report having fully identified the
What is Curry?
As the use of cuiry has often been
mentioned in the various recipes which
have found their way into this depart
ment from time to time, several young
housewives have decided that they will
find out, if possible, just what curry
is, and have written, collectively, re
questing a description of its growth
and preparation.
Curry is a vegetable; rather, cury
is vegetables. It is anise, coriander,
cumin, mustard, poppy seeds, allspice,
almonds, assafmetida, ghee, cardamon
seeds, Chili berries, cinnamon, cloves,
cocoanut milk, oil, curds, fentgreek
seeds, an Indian nut that I cannot
spell, garlie, onion, ginger, lime juice,
vinegar, mace, mangoes, nutmeg, pop
per, saffron, salt, tamarinds and
tumeric. Rather a long list, but it is
claimed that all these ingredients
really find their way into a 'certail
mixture, wheich is our well known
curry. Allthese are poundedtoggther
and dried in an oven, or in the sun.
When bottled, it is the powder which
comes to us as Indian curry. Now, is
it not worth admiring the wit and skill
that have brought together sueb -
number of ingredients, and on, of
them have evolved an arte so en*
tirely different. frow ,ch, and in
which there is not one elementary
trmtdia curry is produced at first
,.. Different provinces vary the
ingredients and the proportions. If
brought together, the ladies of Madras
and the ladies of Calcutta would proba
bly compare recipes,' each of coarse
with her own preferences, as do the
ladies of Philadelphia and Baltimore
on the stewing of terrapin, and the
ladies from New Orleans and Charles
ton over the boiling of rice. In one
province coriander seeds predominate,
in another tumeric enoroaches. Doubt
less there are family recipes for carry
among the Brahmins as precious as the
recipes of Aunt Glegg and Aunt Pnl
let.-liome Queen.
Air Used by a Human Belag.
Dr. Radoliffe Hallmakes the follow
ing interesting oalculation on the
amount of air a human being of the
average size and proportions will on
Ssume in the space of one minate when
in repose and also when in the differ
ent degrees for activity. When at
rest we consume 500 cubic inches of
air per minute; if we walk at the tae
Sof one mile an hour we use 800; two
Smiles,1000; three miles an hour,1600;
Sfour miles an hour, 2300. If we start
out and run six miles an hours we will
Sconsume 3000 cubic inhoh of air dear
Sing every minate of that time. -
e What tauhter lees.a
- It lasdtbt e.ry heIadpalsh to
* which Asesn or womean' tends
to p 1rAboluat r h .**
yf~l~ ,~ -
His Wife Not Afraid of 3Ilee-iettling
Him Down Hard- Others-Civil
ized-Mlaking Up for Lost r
'lime - Triumphs, Etc.
!y/ " wife is not afraid of ml.? 01
And from a rat she never ran; ol
, The speaker wore a yellow skin
In fact, he was a Chinaman.
He-"Do you ever have 'that tired Is
She-"Not when I'm alone."
"They say you have no sympathy
for the struggling phoor."
"Me?" said the accused gentleman. g
"I have nothing but sympathy."
--- p
"Is the sail the only thing that tl
guides a ship?" asked the green Fas
"No," Said the mate, "there are w
"What are you crying so for, Nel
lie?" ti
"Oh, it's nothing, Lucy. I want a
my husband to buy me a new bonnet
to-morrow, and I'm simply practicing o
a little."
"Why do you skate so fast, Bobbie? V
You're always in such a fearful hurry."
"I only get one chance a week." ex- li
plained Bobbie, "and I have to do a
seven days' skating all at once."
Harper's Bazar. a
Museum Proprietor-"What's the
matter with the Blind Checker Player? I
He's been losing games all day." c
Manager--"He hasn't been just l1
right for a month. I'm afraid his eye-'
I sight is failing him." a
L - t
uAnd you didn't eat the captfre? c
Now, I'll engage civilization was re
sponsible for that." r
e The savage sighed.
I "Yes," he answered, "it was the .
ca ook's day out."-Truth.
A Muon SERIOUS oasE.
Mrs. Watts- "Isn't it a good deal
of annoyance t#get your meals at such
isregular hours ?"
Hungry Higgins-'The irregular
hours ain't so bad as the irregular
days."-Indianapolis Journal.
(Mike, having been directed to go
n down to the station and see when the
h next train left,. is g&ne about two
). hours.)
g Perkins (anxiously)-"Well, Mike?"
11 Mike-"Well, sor, I had to wait a
y long toinle, sor, but it has just left."
I. Harper's Baza;.
y "General," said the almost breath
r, less Spanish ollfcer, "send out*the
), glomous news withlnt delay." '
n "What has occurred?"
5, "Three more brilliant victories
k We have just pu-to rout two Sunday- .
st school picnics and a camp meeting." 1
aS -Washington Star.
is Ypps-"Did you hear thr. do
T anqmue nearly killed his wtie wash w
single blow ?"
n Potts-"Good graoious I t." 1
S Yopps--"Fact. y,, see, as he was a
Son his way up t 'r- on his hands
h and knees ari-tw L,.rdegroom's din -
- ,r,- aeeideataiy caught a whif of o
1 ,is breatb."-New York Journal.
"The lsat victory," remarked the
Spanish general, in a tone of great
irritation, "was not nearly as brilliant
as I expected it to be."
"Whom do you consider to blamel"
"I can't quite make my mind
whether the person who spoiled it was
Sthe typewriter, the telegraph opertor
or the compositor."- Washington
S80 ao.Pr croT DC1IO.
•- . "Now," said the old gentleman's
0 accomplished daughter, "I'm going to
e. improvise a little for your muse
t- ment."
7y "Is that what you were doing up till
ie 11.30 o'clock?" he inquired esupie
- iously. r
"No, indeed. That was entirely
different.. Now, what kind of time
would you like to have me play injr'
a. pd in a voice that w alm seat
o severe in its firmness the old g~tle
ae man answered:
a- "Day time."
at "I want to git a tomtbtoe fer the
of old man's grave," said 4 lady' Ina
to blask "tie'is been dead long enngla
ro now, and I'vte get t1e ~fasspfee
; "'hall I put ow any -seamianti flk
rt 'Gone to a better land, o0iurethia#
ill of that sort?" asked the -4salg in
- read. y-mIdse -aea -
8. 1 s iA.n whethr be lent th
.4 Se.".J~a94hhd~
an a aV5'GIA~ ~
the young man who readi t-he
sag page.
"Sorse one who thinks w iT * t
whose words are often imply i-``
of your own thoughts."
"No," he interrupted in
tone; "7 draw the line timor
a friend to-da who answersýs· ~I
soription, and it wasn't t & i i ~e
roan snure you."
"How wonderfull"
"Nothing strange about i- "i
on the avenue and rushed tasw s
othei with a co.n Imp.e
bad not finished ehkingt an I r
we looked into each ot s uqº , .
said in perfect unson: s eI': ;.
old man I Could u lend set
lars? "-Washingla Star. "
Sarcasm is a rhetorieo Sati '4
oealing a bee:
Every man who les good faith, .It
great power for good.
Al.invetment in knowledge alway 
pays the best interest.
It disgusts us to sea others . l
lwthe foolish things we do.e 4 ii :
You qen make lots of headwy sos
times by admitting you are w gi. :
when you are not.
A married man Use to hate a o
Around because it always looks
were sorry for him.
Some people seem to imagine tha
they can make up for lao of a h by~ 
a surplusage of words . ., .
Cohimon sense is not iint e ame
lass as genis, but it often   ":
solid comfort out of life. -
If somb people knew that the at
had spots on it, they would almos
worry themselves to death.
A set of mortalshas risen who b*1 .
- lieve that trath is not a pilated spee
e ulation but a praetieal fat
When a ash takes his sister out, he.
always acts as though he  .a( . m
everybody to know she wasn't his
girl. . I
The sarest sign that a won ueas
Syou to love her is when she b
comb her hair the way she tLbisao.
like it -.
Every honest .oeouation to whi 
a man set his he and would raie i _.
to a philosopher, if hq measiseu a "
the knowledge that belonged e da -
Hath any wrosgbd ee; bq ,. f0
revenged; alight it, and the..ersbah. y.`
gun; forgive it, and 'tis falabsl
is below himselfhat is not above .. :
Onltivate the habitot ofwayvailg
the beet in people, and, seo. that
l that, of drawing forth whaterel the
boat in them. -The BSoth-West.
Irat and the Woi-edi Ce l
rThe following afecdote Is ob
General Itoraee Porter it his "Om.
paigning with Grant" is the OiPtosy:
lWhile riding about the Meld ai
Grantst9pped atahouseen&a
a desire to prepare sose rti . e
A nuaber of woumded warftlipe
Sthe poreh and }n the ooe;ar;. e . . .
Smade their way there Ia
with theosnal anstom of wroped=a`_a
a to seek a hoses. It seemr ta br has
Sral instinet, as a Ibasae eom"Ps -h
idea of shelter sad of hone. I wn.le
with the general into a bss soaes to
see whether there was a dry spot hi
t he might take possesasion of frar aest
e time to write mesesges and
the mapa
As we eentered, t3 w '
t in the onl haa Oirt ..i' .
' tenant of iai s e d a bo h s d et
In the left bheek. the
thrqegk his matb Lunh
hr e ht car. ASa ofh d sbes .
I. to r a aboklag appgse.
r nce. io arose the ,aomet we a..
tered, pashed hisohaslrfoewedtoward
the general, sad said, with a >o Ind
s a smile, 'tHere, take my albat, :dar."
Is General Grant looked at hip, and ee
i* plied: "Ah, you nqed that ig*ig. a muh.
tf more than I; keep yo5'app. Isue
yeo are badly hart." T.e , aut
wred good natusedly : "If se teka
let me go bask to our lines I s Mltlk
a hogPaeadasoeiy ; but I
t she YoeldA'B know me, sew." , The
generst mid, " iral. so that ao of
w or snsgeens'does sl M ld* poawl Is
* room. He toldoeat of the senubas
r who was dresminag tMe wosds .r or
ows men to do whst he sesI4le the
o sftederaht We did aot hear whet
a Yankee armies. The ideaspehs wers
0 afterward writttin 18 s2MsaIr meN,
Th Th akiag masheln is new
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