The true Democrat. [volume], January 09, 1897, Image 2

About The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928

Image provided by: Louisiana State University; Baton Rouge, LA

                
THE -:- TRUE :- DE OCRAT.
PUBLISHED WEEKLY AT
ST. FRANCISVILLE, LOUITANA.
Fully one-third of the land in Great
Britain is owned by meimb,:r rof the I
House of Lords.
There are more than 200,)0)0 vol
umes in the National Library of Mex
ico, and a(lditions are being made by
every steamer from New York anl
Europl
The work of extending stlstantial
aid to the sut'ring thonsisaris of Ar
menia goes bravely on: in the t'cited
States, while Europe is busy evading
the question of Christianity and
humaunty ver's:us political expe!Aieacy
and the balance:lu of power.
St. PIaul'i, Univ.,rsalist church of
Chic,,go. often e lied "'the church of
the miliio:aires," because of i;s ex
tremely wealthy cogregation, wiill
very soon start an aitvurtising cant
paign. The object of the advertising
is to attract the masses, and thua ex
tend the scope of the church's work.
Two-headed snakes, like inventions,
seem to originate simultaneously in
different phices, notes the New Ylork
Sun. Just as one is being exhibited
alive as a curiosity in New York, Pro
fessor A. L. Metz of the 'T'ulanu Uni
versity Medical School at New Orleans
is exhibiting one, preserved in alcohol,
which lie got recently at Bayou Goula.
An Engliskman, now in Washing
ton, says: "The poor man in this
country seems to be more self-respect
ing than the chronic pauper that has
made the name of Whitechapel noto
rious all over the world. The latter
is in such abject poverty that lihe has
lost all hope of ever bettering his cou
dition. How the miserable wretches
live is a mystery. And when it comes
to the women this Nation has an im
mense advantage. Your women do
not frequent public drinking-houses.
It iasthe greatest disgrace of London
that the women of the poorer class
are as good customers of the liquor
shops as the men, and worse still, the
poison is handed them across the iar
by one of their own sex. In East
London children of tender years ac
company their mothers into such
places."
Professor George Beyer, who ex
amined the prehistoric moulds at
Catahoula, La., insists that he has
found a sort of "missing link," and
has some remarkably shapedl anthro
poid skulls in support of his theory.
The skeletons disinterred by him were
those of men over six feet in height,
bht the skulls are difflerent in shape
from tho.se of any mound-builders
unuearthed, but correslpondl withi some
found in Brazil of a very ancient date.
There is an almost entire absence of
forehead, but nothing to indicate that
this was accompiishlied by artilicial
mneans, as in the case of the Fiathead
Iudians; and the skulls were three
fourths of an inch thick. The Louis
iana Historical Society was not pre
pared to accept the Catahoula mnound
builders as "''the missing linik" on this
evidence; but professor Beyer will
submit the skulls to other arCehu Ilo
gists for an opinion as to what kind
of being they represent.
Mr. J. D. O'Connell, of the Bureau
of Statistics in tile Treasury Depart
meont at Washington, prints in the
New York Sun an open letter to Pre
sident Eliot, of lharvardl, whom he
takes to task very courteoudy for
neglecting to, give due attention, in a
recent magazine article on "Five
American Contributions to Civiliza
tion," to what the Irish have contri
buted to the United States. Mr.
O'Connell attacks Dr. Eliot's assump
tion that the "lngliuh race" preldomi.
nated in this country in the eighteenth
century, and gives interesting reasons
for his belief that there wore more
people who derived from Ireland than
from E:ngland anmng the eighteenth
oentury Americans. He makes it clear,
explai~lt Harper's Weekly, where a
good part of the hitch is, however,
when he claims all the Scotch-Irish
emigrants to America as Irish. Irish
they certainly were, to be suro,if they
were born and lived in Ireland, but to
describe a Scotch-Irishmn as an Irish
man is to discribe him very insufli
ciently. "Irishmauu"conveys one idea;
"Scotch-lrishman" another; and as
long as there is so very substantial a
disparity between the ideas conveyed
it is a waste of ink to argue that one
word would serve for both. Neverthe. I
less, Mr. O'Connell's exposition of the
'alue of Ireland's early contributions
to the American republic is interest.
ing and is a part of our history that
is not generally appreciated.
..
A BIT OF LIFE, ;
A maiden sat within the oor
And sang as many 1 is before.
A man to daily t.il passed by,
No love ". piealroe lit his eye,
But when he heiril the merry ,. g
iHe whistle..l as he went along.
A woman by the window wept
For ono who in the e)tlrcehyard sil";,
But when upon htier hearing fell
That tune she knew and loved so well,
Thie flood of burning tears was stayc1,
And soon a song her lips esayed.
Her neighbor heard the tender strain,
And softly joined the sweet refrain.
Thus, all day long that one song bore
Its joyousness from door to door.
.-Clara J. Denton, in Ladies' Hom:ne Journal.
A JUMP FOR FREEDOMI
I[ yes, at
s'teady 10 t,
S1it s drivers?
< Well, o
have to be,
there's no
choice in the
ý14 matter.
I) r ving
fl ,,. wants a clear
head, and a
. . lnan who can
make up his
mind what to
do i a mo
- ment. T h e
majority of people don't half realize
the work there is to do, or the re
sponsibilities of the "foot-plate."
I often think, myself, the differ
ence there is between us chaps and
the captain of a Channel boat. I
used to think of it more when I was
on the "Son'-Western," running the
Continnental train to Southampton.
Maybe 1 had a couple of hundred lives
in tow; but 1'11 venture to say very
few of them thought of the man who
had them and the train in sole charge,
fe: though the fireman's along with
you, the driver is responsible for ev
erything, including him. Yet when
the passengers stepped aboard the
Channel boat, if they got a glimpse
of the captain they'd look at him wiih
a kind of awe.
I don't say all this but of jealousy,
but I've often thought if we had a uni
form, with gold lace round our caps
and collars and an engine worked on
our shoulders, folks who were going
a long journey would think more of
us, and say: "That's our driver,"
just as you hear them remark "That's
our captain."
Still, as .I say, I wouldn't
change. There's a charm about
the "foot-plate" and a pride
in your engine that only a driver
knows. Why, I've seen men get quite
affectionate over a favorite engine,
and almost cry when they were
changed to another. Adventures?
Well, the life's full of adventures,
more or less; not very interesting to
the general public, perhaps, but ex
citing enough to us. Stop, though. I
can tell you one adventure I had years
ago, which will interest you--about
the most remarkable thing that ever
happened to me, and about as curious
an affair as you could hind in the his
tory of the line, I reckon. It was while
I was. on the Sou'-Western, and before
I became a regular express driver.
Before you can quite understand it,
I must tell you something about the
line itself. From Clapham Junction
to Hampton Court there are four lines
of rails, two of them used for up and
down "fast" trains, and the others for
up and dlown "slow." You have the
same sort of thing on some of the other
lines; the London and Northwestern,
for instance, has four lines as far as
Roade, beyond Bletchiley, only they
are worked differently to the South
western.
The London and North-Westcern run
their up and down fast trains on the
two left hand lines of rails from Eus
ton, and the up and down slow on the
two right hand, so that, when two
trains are going in the same direc
tion there is always a line of metals
between them. But from Clapham to
Hampton Court Junction the outer
left hand rail is used for slow, and the
next to it, the inner left hand, for
fast, the outer right and inner right
being used for up-slow and fast re
spectively. The "up-slow"extends all
the way to Woking, but this has
nothing to do with my story.
Thus, you see, if one train plasses
another going in the same direction.
the trains are close together. Some
times I have known two trains travel
alongside each other at the same rate
for two or three minutes, and more
than once I have spoken from my en
gine to the driver of another train,
and given or received a bit of 'bacey
when we were going at the rate of
forty or fifty miles an hour. The
Northern system is generally consid
ered to be the better of the two, but
the South-Western still sticks to the
other plan.
One day, in the winter of 188i-,
there had been a special cheap excur
sion from Portsmouth to Waterloo; I
forget what the occasion was; but,
anuyhow, I was detailed on duty to take
this train back to Portsmouth. We
were to start at 9.27, and as far as
IHampton Court Junction to run on the
outer, or slow, line. The last train
before us was the nine o'clock, so you
see we expected a clear run. We were
not to stop anywhere before reaching
Portsmouth.
The train was a heavy one, as a
good number of people had taken ad
vantage of the excureion, and it
seemed that we should hardly get off
to time. As a matter of fact, howev
er, we iere only two minutes late in
starting, and were soon bowling away
merrily towards the south.
The boat express to Southampton
leaves Waterloo at 9.35, and runs
from there to Basingstoke without a
stop, traveling to Hampton Court
Junction on the fast line. We haed
iust passed Ryan's Park when I heard
the approaching roar of the express
coming down behind us. We were
traveling a good forty miles an hour
at the time, and the other train began
to pass ours very slowly. Presently
the express engine wa', alongside ours,
and the driver sang out a cheery
"What ho! mate," as the two "cabs"
came together. Creeping gradually
past us, the carriages of the boat train
became visible. and as I glanced at
them I could ditinguish the passen
gers plainly. Five coaches had al
ready passed usn, when 1 stood well on
the loft-hand side of the foot-plate,
furthest from the other train, to al
low my firemen to perform his office.
At this moment my engine put on a
little spurt, and the two trains were
running almost exactly at the same
pace, the other just slightly gaining.
I happened to glance over my shoul
der, when, to rmy astonishment, I saw
a man in the other train deliberately
opening the door of his compartment,
which was just drawing opposite to
the "cab" of my engine. Before 1
could recover from my surprise he had
ptepped out on the footboard of the
carriage, and in another second he
sprang upon the foot-plate of my en
gine, clutching at the rail on the cab,
while the door of the carriage he had
left, obeying the motion of the train,
shut with a slam.
In an agony of terror, my mate and
I seized him and dragged him into a
position of safety, while the other
train spurted forward and passed us.
For a moment or two neither of us
spoke. I was the first to recover my
presence of mind, and the habit of
,inty mastered my curiosity for the in
stant.
"Hold on here." I shouted, "Jim,
fire her up, man; wait till we get
through Woking-then we'll see to
him. Steady, sir! Keep over in that
corner, please, and thank Providence
you're not a dead man."
"Mad, I should think," said my
fireman, as he set to work again shov
elling on the coals, while I riveted my
attention to the mass of red and green
lights we were over and anon ap
proaching and passing.
At Hampton Court Junction we were
switched on to the "fast" line, follow
ing the boat-express by about six
minutes, and in half an hour or so we
were through Woking, and then I
turned to the stranger. He was a
young man, clean shaven. and well
dressed; deadly pale and trembling,
clutching hard at the support. The
foot-plate's a bit shaky to a novice.
"Are you mad, sir? Do you know
you've had a fearful escape? What,
in the name of all that's wonderful,
do you mean by it?"
"N-no; I'm not mad. I-I was
forced to do it."
"Forced to db it? Why, you were
alone in the carriage, as far as I could
see."
"Yes, yes, I know that. But I was
desperate. I'll explain everything."
"Wait a minute or two; I can't at
tend now. Tell me when we're
through Guildford."
How he started as we entered the
Guildford tunnel just beyend the
station! I thought he'd fall at first,
and my mate had to hold on to him
for a minute. When we were clear of
the tunnel, I asked him for his ex
planation.
"I wanted to escape," he said, "and
it was the only way."
"Escape? Who from?. The police,
I suppose? Well, don't you think
you've done that, my friend?"
"No, no, no I Not from the police.
I'm not a criminal. Listen, and I'll
tell you. I've got mixed up with a
terrible secret society-a set of people
composed of the very worst sort of
Anarchists--menou of several Nations.
It would be too long a story to tell you
how I came to join it, but when once
among such people, there is no draw
ing back. We were pledged with the
most awful oaths to secrecy, and ter
rible penalties were ordained for those
who proved traitors. I would have
given anything to set myself free, but
it was imposhbl.
"Well, one evening last week we
held a meeting to determine the per
formance of an awful act. I can't tell
you exactly the truth, but I will go so
far as to say it was the assassination
as a certain great personage on the
Continent. We drew lots, in order
that the assasiin might be chosen. The
lot fell upon me. In vain I begged to
be excused, the others were relentless,
and the president said to me:
"'George Felton, you have sworn
obedience, and obey you must. The
lot has fallen upon you, and you must
perform the deed. If you refuse, or
if you even hesitate, there is only one
penalty, and that you know. It is
death, and it is useless for you to try
to escape from it. This is ow ysu
will proceed: Until Thursday you
will be carefully watched. The even
ing of that day you will take the boat
train via. South-mpton and Havre
for Paris. You will travel by that
route because it is the less frequented.
You willgo absolutely alone,but every
step you will be watched. The
"brethren" will be posted all along
the line of route. At Waterloo two
of the men will watch you into the
train. At Basingmr te two others will
keep their eyes on you while the train
is stopping there. At Southampton
you will be watched on board the boat,
and the same thing will happen at
Havre and Rouen, your only stoping
places. At Paris you will be met by
two comrades, who will keep you in
view until the final arrangements have
been made, when you will be told how
to act. So do not think to escape, as
every movement will be watched,'"
The train flew on; my mate and I
were interested, as you may well
guess. He paused for a moment to
allow of the engine being coaled once
more, then I said:
"But you might have stopped the
train by pulling the communicator,
and-"
"I'm coming to that. I had
thought of trying to escape thus, but
just as the train moved ount of the
I station a little note was thrown in at
the window by a 'comrade,' who had
been watching me. I opened it and
read as follows: "We never thought
the other night that perhaps you
might try to escape by stopping the
train en route and jumping oft. In
case such an idea has entered your
he.ad, you may as well know that the
"brothers" are on the train. You
know what that minans. You are help
less. Be brave for, the sake of the
"cause." ' "
"Have you got that letter?" said
the fireman.
"No; I tore it up. Well, I tell
you, I was deepera:te. I had half
made up my mind to jump and risk it,
when we gradually began to pass your
train. I was alone in my comprt
ment, and could see the well-filled
carriages close to me. I sat looking
at them mechanically, when the idea
suddeniy seized me, and I asked my
self the question: 'Why shouldn't I
change trains?' 3 this time I was
opposite to the :nu:-=.i's van in the
front, and there was no'; a moment to
be lost. It was too' late try for that
when I opened the door, and my only
course w.as to jump on to your engine.
Thank God, I did s saifely!"
"Aye, you've had a lucky escape,
and you may well thank God. Well,
what,', to be done now?"
"Where are you bound for?"
"Portsmouth."
"Do you stop anywhere first?"
"'No. "
"Well, look here. Can't I slip off
on the outer side as we come into the
station?"
"I don't know so much about that.
You've come on the foot-plate unin
vited, and you ought to give an ac
count of it to the authorities. If I
let you get off without, I'm liable for
a row myself. Besides, hew are we
to know your story's true?"
"Before God I swear it's true. And
no one need ever know I was here.
I'll make it well worth your while.
Besides," he added, piteously, "it's
my only chance. When they know
I've escaped they'll search high and
low. If this isn't kept quiet they'il
know about if before I have the start
of them, and that means certain'death.
I couldn't escape. As it is, I've got
money enough to get well out of the
country before they know."
Well, it seemed rough enough on
the poor chap, but my mate stuck out
against letting him go. I argued the
matter out with him as well as I could,
and he was beginning to come round
to my point of view when I suddenly
exclaimed:
"Look out, mate, there's a block at
Peterstield."
The distant signal was shining
with a red light instead of A green,
and we put on the brakes until thu
train was almost at a standstill.
"For God's sake, let me get off,"
begged the stranger.
My mate and I looked at one anoth
er. The train came to a stop close to
the signal.
"Don't refuse me. See here," and
he held out five sovereigns and liter
ally pressed them into my hand. I
looked at Jim again. He nodded.
"All right, get off and keep quiet
till we've gone on. Good luck to you.
Here, I don't want your money."
But he was gone in a moment.
Then the semaphore arm fell with a
crash, the green light shone out, and
we started once again; nor did we
stop till we had reached Portsmouth.
Later on, my mate and I:I talked the
matter ovar between us, and agreed
that we would not mention it to any
one, as it was better for all that it
should be kept quiet. Then I offered
him half the money.
"No," said he, "I won:t take it. If
his story's true, it's something like
the price of blood. They must have
given him the cash for his journey and
expenses."
I hadn't seen it in that light.
"Well, mate, I believe you're right.
I never thought of that. I sha'n't
touch it either. I couldn't bring my
self to do it. But what shall we do
with it?"
Finally, we agreed to send it anony
mously to a railway charity, and the
next morning we did so.
Two days after that, I waa off duty,
when the fireman came round to my
house, with a curious expression on
his face and a newspaper in his hand.
"Read that," he said, quickly point
ing to a paragraph. I read as fol
lows:
"IYSTERIIOUS DISAPPEARANCE 0" A CIRI
INAL.
"Oh Thursday evening last a
strange occurrence, the facts of which
are unknown, must have taken place
somewhere on the main line of the
Southwestern Railway between Water
loo and Basingstoke. Our readers
will remember the case of embezzle
ment and forgery at the head oflices of
the 'Amalgamated General European
and Colonial Exchange,' a forgery on
a large scale, in which the under cash
ier, Charles Winfield, a clever, and
unfortunately well-trusted young man,
was deeply implicated. Winfield, by
some means, managed to escape arrest
and the police have been assiduously
following' his track since. On the
evening in question Detective Baxter,
of Scotland Yard, recognized Winield
in a first-class compartment of the
9.35 boat-train from Waterloo to
Southampton. TFhe train was just
moving out of the station, and it was
impossible for the detective to get in,
but he ran along the platform by the
side of the window, clearly identified
his man, took the number of the car
riage, and noticed which compartment
it was, and immediately wired to Ba
ingstroke, the first stopping place.
When, however, the train arrived at
this place the police, who had assem
bled on the platform, found no trace
of the criminal. It was ascertained
that the train had not pulled up once;
the particular compartment was empty,
but a thorough search was made
throuighout the train, it being thought
that he might have changed carriages
by the foot board. It is supposed that
Winfield recognized the fact than 'he
i had been discqverol' at the last mo
1 ment on his way to the Continent,and
guessing that he would be arrested at
1 Basingstroke, must have jumped off
the Irain in a moment of desperation.
Whether the unhappy man was killed
or escaped remains a mystery, no trace
of him having beeni discovered."
1 "What do you think of that !" said
my mate.
3 "Well," I said, "I think he half de
served to escape on account of his
I pluck. " And-well, he was the finest
liar I've ever met!"
The fireman nodded his head slowly,
f and then said:
"Well, I had my doubts most of the
r time. He was too fine a liar for me !"
--Strand Magazine.
A Canine ('oton-tPicker.
i Among the great many almost de
crepit old women who earn a rather
I precarious livelihood by picking no
s and reselling the waste cotton that
a falls from the bales about the streets
3 and warehouses in New Orleans, La.,
t is one well known'among the brokers
r who goes by the whimsical cognomen
of Mom Katrine.
Mom Katrine is a little bit of a
wizened colored woman, almost too
old to walke and quite too blind to see,
but she owns an unfailing source of
revenue in.the shape of a little black
and tan terror, Voudoo by name, that
is as expert a cotton-picker as one
would wish to see. Every morning,
by the time the sun has warmed the
e edge off the .day, Mom Katrine and
Vandoo appear on the street, the old
woman usually to take her seat on the
curbing, while the dog begins his
daily task of cotton-gathering. Von
I doe's energy in this unwonted occupa
r tion is somewhat marvelous, so the
e warehousemen say, and it certainly is
amusirg to see the little fellow dodg
1 ing in and out among the bales under
the very feet of the porters, snatching
a wad of cotton and darting with it to
Mom Katrine, who stores- it away
7 snugly in her big sack, which she usu
1 ally takes home full every evening.
1 Some of the porters think Voudoo
t is a nuisance, he is such a persistent
picker, but as they believe Mom Kat
t rine to be a witch and the dog a par
3 ticipant in her black art, they are
afraid to drive him, and so the two
1 have become regular institutions of
t the trale.-Philadelphia Times.
The Nation's First Treasurer.
1 In the little cemetery at Belmont,
E Penn., is the almost unmarked grave
of Samuel Meredith. the first Treas
urer of the United States.
In 1780 Meredith und George
Clymer pledged $25,000 each to secure
provisions for the United States Army.
Meredith was nominated by George
Washington for Treasurer of the
United States and confirmed by the
Senate on September 11, 1789. He
held the office for twelve years. He
retired to Pleasant Mount, Wayne
County, Penn., where he spent the
1 evening of his days in seclusion, and
died on Feoruary 10, 1817, aged
I seventy-six.
Samuel Meredith's father, Reese
t Meredith, gave $25,000 in silver to the
" starving patriots at Valley Forge.
Samuel Meredith had large land inter
ests there and went to Belmont from
Philadelphia. He built a fine home
1 at Belmont, which was burned a few
years ago.
He left a distinguished family, but
Sthey never put up a fitting monument
over his grave. Several associations
from time to time have advocated the
Serection of a monument by popular
Ssubscription, but nothing practical
has ever been done. A memorial will
be presented to Congress on this sub.
ject soon. -New York Press.
1 Where the Colors Come From.
Few people-even artists themselves
-know where the colors used in the
arts come from. It is an interesting
fact that one small paint box will
often represent the four quarters of
the globe, and all sorts of materials,
animal, vegetable anl mineral. The
cochineal insect supplies the carmines
and rich crimson, scarlet and purple
lakes. Sepla is the inky fluid dis
charged by the devilish cuttle fish.
Indian yellow is from the urine of the
camel and ivory black and bone black
from ivory chips. Prussian blue is
made by fusing horses' hoofs and other
refuge matter with impute potassium
carbonate, an accidental discovery.
Blue black is from the charcoal of the
vine-stalk. Turkey red is derived
from the madder plant of Hindostan.
Gamboge is a yellow sap of a tree,
which the people of Siam catch in co
coant shells. Raw Sienna is the nat
urnal earth from Sienna, Italy. When
Sburned it is Burnt Sienna. Amber is
from Umbria. India ink is from
Sburnt camphor. Bistre is the soot of
wood ashes. Of real ultramarine
Sthere is little in the market, as it is
made from the precious lapis lazuli,
I and commands a big price. Chinese
Swhite is zinc, scarlet is iodide of mer
r cury and native vermillion comes from
quicksilver ore.
Bigh Price for a Relic.
Numismatists have been greatly
i interested this week in the sale at
Sauction of the remarkable collection
, of coins, known as the Montagu col
t lection, including the famous Jazon
s medal, presented by Charles I, to
SBishop Juxon on the seaffold,just before
a the former's execution. The bidding
J for this relic was of the liveliest descrip
tion, and it was finally sold for $3850,
t said to be the highest price ever paid
. for a coin.-New York Post.
Ft eedlng Humnitl.
It is estimated that twenty.two
e acres of land are necessary to sustain
& one man on fresh meat. The same
;space of land, if devoted to wheat
, culture, would feed forty-two people;
e if to oats, eighty-eight; potatoes,
t Indian corn and rice, 176; ana if to
a the plantain on bread tree, over 000
t people.
A DREAMd ROs ,
I hear the tempest loud and drear
That madly sway the lealless tre ,
And moans across the darkened
A surge of ghostly fantasie t
Yet, while the sorrowful rectrai. :l'l ,
So weirdly at my casement blo s,
I quite forget the wind and rain
In dreaming of the summer rose,
--I. . Munkittriekl, in Harpor'syl
PITH AND POIN
Clara-"I was afraid if I let 1i
kiss me I should be sorry for it afMte
wuard." Maude-"Were you?"-P;,
. "Johnny," asked his teacher, ",Iwch
must we do before our sins can be for.
given? " "Sin," replied Johnny,;..
Boston Beacon.
"Are you prepared to aceeDt mel
to-day as nature makes them?" "'In
-or--pleased to accept them as they -
propose. "-Truth.
Hazle-"That policeman in the nextt
street mint ho clubbing somebody J
'Nutte-'tWhy?" "I hear him whiase
ling for help. "-Puck.
"My !" Edith said, "but Mr. Long.
ey'.s fat." "You are mistaken,my
dear, he's quite thin." "Yes; but
and down, I mean."-Judge.
Mcrritt-"Man wan made to mourn,
you know." Cora-"And what was.
woman made for, pray?" Merritt.
'CTo make him do so, I suppose."..
Truth.
She-"Do you suppose his ife
really supports him?" He-"I think
so. He told me he didn't know what
real happiness meant until after hegot :'
married. "-Puck.
Scientiliers-"Lot me see, what i
the name of the instrument that re.
cords the strength of a pugilist's
blow?" Jollicus-"I guess you mean
a phonograph."--Puck.
"I feel," said the clock that had
ceased to tick, "like the victim ofa
bicycle collision." "How is that?"
asked the watch. "Run -down,'-".
Philadelphia North American, . ,
Brown--"Why doesn't Walke; stop
to speak? Thought he knew yoour
Smith-"Used to; but I introduced
him to the girl he married. Neither
of them recognize me now."-Pnnoh.
"Oh. that young man is all right,:~
said Gobang. "He is just sowing hid
wild oats." "The trouble with him,"
said Grymes, "is that he is trying to
raise two crops on the same land."
Truth.
Mrs. Troubles--"When we were
first married, Harry, you never
attereda complaint." Mr. T.-"When
we were first married, Jane, I had cia'
enough to employ a cook. "-Pittsburg
Chronicle-Telegraph.
She - "And, now, Charlie, I suppope
to-morrow you will have to speak,ti
papa about our engagement?" He- /
"Yes, dearest, I ' suppose I must"
(After a pause) "Has your father got
a telephone ?"-Somerville Journal.
He-"I thought you said your love
for me was as strong as iron and as
true as steel; pray, how do you *~o
count for your numerous flirtations?:
She-"Well, you see, the iron and
steel works have shut down for the
present. "--Up-to-Date.
Mrs. Mimms-"Gcorge, are you
suro you locked up the house
carefully?" Mimsu-"By jove, I
can't remember about the front door."
Mrs. Mimms--"Never mind the front
door. How about the coal biu?"
Cleveland Plain Dealer.
The Irn Ringiis of 1813.
A great inquiry is now being mae
in different (German towns for theiron
mourhing rings of the year 1813. The
history of these curious memorials of
German patriotism may not be gener'
ally known. During the National
awakening against Napoleon in 1'B1
the princess of the royal house made
an appeal to the people for the saori'
flee of personal ornaments not unlike ,
that made by the Long Parliament at
the beginning of our civil wars. Gold.
mourning rings were consequently '
sent iu immense numbers to the tres":i
ury in Berlin, and each sender re'
ceived in acknowledgment an irbn
ring upon which was inscribed "Gold
I give for Iron." From Swinemando
alone no fewer than 144 gold rings.
were sacrificed to the Fatherland, and
iron rings sent thither in exchange. '
Specimens of these iron rings are now
worth more than their weight in.gold
-Westminster Gazette.
MIodern DI)ervishes Mail Clad.
The old story that the dervishes
possessed swords and coats of maIL
datinu back to the crusades is con U
firmed by the capture of some ,of
these interesting relies after the re'
cent engagement on the Nile. The
history of the armor and woapon
used originally in Palestine and found
again after 700 years in the Sondsa.
would make a breathless chapter of
romance. History plays the romanti'L
drama on a scale that the most daring .
melodramatio playwright may envy1
for who, even on the stage, would
have ventured to make the officer of a
British expedition in the Soudan en'
counter Arab warriors clad in the mail
of Richard Coeur de Lion's knights?
St. Louis Star.
Deniedl Naturalization.
Sven Andreason applied for natural_
ization at Chicago the other day, aU,
failed to get it for a curious reason,'
Andreason is a Norwegian, andinsisteL.
that his papers should record that b S
renounced allegiance to the "ging o0
Norway and Sweden." The Coaty'
Clerk declared that there is no sa.o
monarch, though there is a KingoI
Sweden and Norway." Oficial so.
curacy and National pride found
themselves at odds, and as neith5er :
would yield Andreason was not admit:i
ted to citizenship.-San FrancisQ-i~
Chroniole. -,