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WM m M -ür cASTER MORNING. [Written for This Paper.] ISE, my soul I the morning dawneth That should drive all gloom away; Bise from out thy tomb of languor To a better life to day. Fearless pass thy stricken keepers. Knowing all their power has flown. For the angel of Re pentance Rolls aside the door of stone. Linger not in listless dreaming; Let no doubts or fears dismay; Vain remorso or sick foreboding Rise above them all to-day. O'er the death of sin triumphant, Go thou forth to life and light. Gifted with the orown eternal And the matchless garment white. Yonder is thy Father's glory, Yonder, soul-reviving air, And the ways of love that blossom For the faithful everywhere. ïn the most bewildering dangers That thy timid heart can meet Do not fear to lose a pathway Marked by Jesus' wounded feet. Soon shall come another morning— O thou Heavenly Faster dawn I— When from off celestial visions Shall the clouds of earth be drawn. Parted from surrounding shadows, Thou shall fly through spaces dim, Following thy risen Saviour, And forever rest with Him J ulia H, T hatbb. AN EASTEß BONNET. Tiia Story of Mrs. Marsden's Ex periences with It. 7 [Written for This Paper.] pRS. MARSDEN'S face, as she. stands before her mirror, expresses deep complacency of feeling'. The cause of her complacency must be sought for beyond the fair face and becoming' bon net, which she co qusttishly adjusts upon her head A fair facial out line and a becom . j. ing- bonnet are in. adequate to the pro duction of Mra Marsden's exalted state of feeling. In truth, the lady is enjoying one ©f those rare moment«, possible only to those toth good and great Good, Mrs. Marsden undoubtedly is, and, in her sphere, must be accounted great also. Who dis putes her leadership in society, the right to be foremost among the honorable women of the church? Still fair of face, shapely of form, and of a charming manner, what young man reflects, when he passes from her agreeable presence, that she is no longer in her first youth? But the honors paid to a delightful personality and the ■weet incense burned at the altar of social success, are too familiar to the lady to bring anew the sparkle to her eyes and the flush to her cheeks. It is the new triumph of generalship and the forecast of triumphs to be, not the memory of past victories, that stir her pulses with such becoming effect She has met the enemy and routed it. In language less military, Mra Marsden, as head of the flow i>r committee for Easier decoration, has ut terly vanquished an opposing faction, and desk and platform will, in to-morrow's adornment, reflect her acknowleduo.1 taste. After sundry exasperating skirmishes, she has drawn on a battle, all along the line, and "succeeded" (to use her own signifi cant phraze) " in putting down tiias Beldon woman." Thus her bonnet becomes a crown of victory, ani such a bonnet! a ver.ta.ble inspiration! True, the inspiration has been somewhat costly, but even this pang is softened by the remembrance of the jewel of a sewing-girl she had found * Such a discovery, my dear! Not merely lady -like, but a lady; positively a young woman of ideas; and so ridiculously mod est in her charges," as she had confidingly expressed herself to a friend The jewel of a girl was just now occupied in putting the finishing touches to a new wrap, destined to divide, with the bonnet, the glories of Easter; her taste and skillful B38S, cheaply compensated, enabling her employer to wear the crown of inspired mil linery, without disturbing dreams of debt and duns Mrs, Marsden removes her bon net, and is swinging it admiringly, when " Yow!* comes the shrill yelp of a dog, fol lowed by n succession of piercing screams from Baby Mabel. Instantly the maternal ins tine: asserts itself over the purely femin ine; the bonnet is tossed lightly on the bed and the alarmed mother darts down the stairs, almost treading on the pet poodle Beau, as he darts up Beau is a spoiled poodle High living and overfeeding have destroyed his digestion; and there are times when his dyspeptic dog-ship gives himself as many airs as if he owned a soul and wore a liver-pad At his best, he is an affable dog of many accomplishments; he will sing in canine contralto; he will beg, danoe, leap, march, and go the whole round of ac complishments proper to a finished poodle. But at his worst. Beau develops a Mr li y de-like depravity that is alarming. More than once has he evaded his njany guardians and slipped from the housä to go on a protraoted epree in the company of outcast mongrels, returning grossly de moralized by a long debauch; his silky hair hanging in dirty wisps, his ears torn, eyes bleary, his vrhole appearance that of an utterly abandoned and disreputable dog. For two days past Beau had been coming down with au attack of Hyde rophobia. He would iwX sing; he refused to bes, and urorencv and entreaty were answered by grumlyings most suggestive of smothered profanity. It was no wonder, then, that when Miss Mabel tri**! to grab him as he passed ner, he snapped at the little hands, causing a hasty recoil which resulted in a Iom of balance and a roll down-stairs. As Beau in ruffM mood leaps upon the bad he encounters the bon net His wholi. dog nature, revolting from petticoat government, urged hint to take summary venftoanoe on its symbo'. Hol hoi This was better thai» worrying shoes on the alley ash-pile with Iiis mongr-ïl friends. Growling in rage he bounds upon his victim! He holds it down, worries it, tears it, and after his passion is somewhat sated, proceeds deliberately to pluclt out, piece By piece, the adorning bird, and to ohew up the plumes that nod ded defiance to the last In ten mümtes the dainty bit of milltoery is fit only for the rag-bag. In his Moment of triumph Beau feels that in the matter of voice, nat ure has dealt unkindly with him. He wants to crow, or bray a victorious f auf ara He compromises with bis weakness by rolling over and over on the defeated thing, snort ing in salf -approval Meantime, Mrs. Monden has found her child more frightened than hurt; kissed away the tears, coaxed back the smiles, ani, as maternal anxiety is relieved and 4k Wernau becomes d " uiuant, she reinem» bers her bonnet and makes a hasty asoent to ber chamber What a sight greets her eye when she looks upon the bed. Only the pen that described the rape of the lock could do justice to the spectacle Beau, who has been licking the wet feathers from his silky hair, beats a cautious retreat He may be conscience-stricken; he cer tainly is afraid that something will hurt his feelings, so ho wisely removes that delicate possession to a place of safety. Bat the pangs his mistress feels are too great to be relieved by anger or appeased by venge ance. She realizes that to-morrow's joust of fashion is not for her. There lies her magic helm (without which all is useless) quite shattered. The cloudy heaven of her face betokens a squall; her bosom billows stormily; the sobs come in windy gusts then, down comes the rain! and Mra Mars den sinks into the embrace of—her cozy chair Ah! Mra Beldon, smarting under your so recent defeat over the Easter deco rations, what balm for your wounds is here, if only you could know it Mra Marsden is not permitted to indulge her grief undisturbed. Tapl tap! at the door, and enter the maid Her mistress in tears! Why— Î What—f The answer comes from the bed and its murdered millinery. "Oh, ma'am 1" says Mary the maid It is noL much to say, but it is enough The oh! rises in reflection to the expression of the utmost astonishment and indignation; the "ma'am" in tremulous diminuendo, and sottly as a flower falls on a new-made grava " W-w-h -a -t is it, M-m -a -r-yl" said her mistress from behind her handkerchief. "If you Dlea.se, ma'am, the sewing girl says she's ready to go, and will you come down and put täe wrap on before she leaves." At the mention of the wrap the squall shows signs of freshening. "N-n-o, M-arr-y; and t-tell her I will see her Monday." Ales! for the gentle hint designed to sug gest to Mra Marsden that .the work being done should be paid, tot Good-bye, Jewel of a girl, to all your fine plans for to-morrow. Go down the steps a little more straight of figure than is your wont; walk past the shop windows with unturned face and see, without looking, the treasures on whioh your heart was set; then stop awhile on the garret stairs to fight back the tears, so that somebody may not have to carry part of sister's load Mrs. Marsden spends herself in sobs like a spoiled child, and proceeds to develop symptoms of hysteria, She wishes for her husband, and reflects with petulance that a husband always is away from home when he is most needed. It is true, male sympa thy at such a moment might leave much to be desired; but a rightly trained husband might be expected to sit down in silent sympathy, respecting the greatness of an affliction which he dared not essay to com fort in words. Mra Marsden's face is flushed, her head aches, she is quite unstrung. She turns in loathing from Mary's offering of tea and toast, but submits to being put to bed Her stricken spirit craves sympathy, and more and more she desires the pres ence of her dear friend and physician. Dr. Martin. ?|c* a man—dear me, no! What male practitioner could hope to Success fully treat such a case? A man may prescribe, but he could not sympathize. Besides, what diagnosis could penetrate to the deep-seated cause of suf fering, and how could a finely-organized woman tell a coarse-fi ber ed man that she was Buffering from the effects of a ruined bonnet? But Lucy Waldron, M. D., sharer of Bchool -girl secrets and follies, bosom friend and intimate of later days—that kind of a doctor was another thing. Lucy Waldron was the one person to be counted on in such a case of trial. But how to sum mon her, how to explain? Presently the lady rings for Mary, who comes softly to the bedside. "Mary, go to the bureau and bring me those drops I use for nervous headache" Of course she knew there wasn't a drop left, but she gave a dissatis tied moan when the maid reports the empty bottle. "I am afraid you must send round to the drug store and get it filled" The maid retires, is at the door—" Mary," (pa thetically) " while I think of it, call np De Waldron on the telephone and tell her I had a church matter of importanoe to talk over with her, but am too sick to come to see her And, Mary, if she can come over for a few minutes, you can tell her about the drops and she will bring them." It 's rather a long way round, it's femin ine, and Mra Marsden turns on her pillow to wait results. Duly the doctor flits into the room— all affection and regrets. A J S BX BSOOtrnTKBT» THE BONNES rare combination is she—bristling with business on occasion, but womanly in every particular; fond of her friend, she is not blind to her weaknesa She finds her patient uncommunicative "The matter? Oh, one of those horrid, nervous headachea So unfortunate, too, I shall be flt'for noth ing to-morrow. Mabel had a fall down stairs, and gave me quite a shock" The doctor listens, pondering her own plans and purposes meanwhile, and continues to softly stroke her friend's head while waiting for the explanation—the postscript, so to speak—of this communication In time it cornea " Ah! yes, dear, I must tell you; Beau has utterly ruined by bonnet; but ifr\ floes not matter so much, since I shall Uo quite unfit to attend church after this nervous attaok" (What philosophical balancing of ills! Did Newton speak more calmly of the havoc made by® dÇx Dia mond?) "And do see that the flowa.a are InkOwiiij^the close of the sentie, to kçep them Was the doctor She puts a heaven and her stroking devel' For the patient the pi tor's visit is achieved; f< visit has only just begnn. mission more important than the mere com forting of a child with a broken toy. She most give her message casually. Thou art the woman! would be dramatic but dan geroua She relates some of her profession al experience Tells how Mra McGuire ripped all the clothes from the child that had fallen into convulsions, and burned them in the kitchen stove to break the spell that was on the dariint;" referring the doctor's demand for warm water and a bath, to a Jury of familiars who promptly vetoed the use of so dangerous an element "They evidently wanted whisky and a wake, and they'll get it* Tells that Mra Haskins, a notorious "hypo," has been made whole by mind nura "It couldn't be her own mind, my dear, because she hasn't any." I am willing to give ever that field of medicine wherein the * hypo " groweth np like a cookie-burr, entirely to thé mind doctor«, and my Westings with it Bat I am afraid, m this case, its only another turn ot the crank; and we may ex pect suoh an advocacy of mind cure, in season and out Of season, as will prove mind curse to some of the rest of us," "And by the way, Jeanette, I must tell you of one of the sweetest, saddest thinga Word was left at my office by a young lady that I should call at forty-four Breeds court Now, forty-four Breeds coure was a new locality for me, it is not two blocks from your house, Jeanette; thatalley where the lamp at the entrance has always a broken pane of glasa I found Breeds court—I opine it breeds fevers. A narrow court, with the windows on each side close enough to permit the ex change of family confidences between Mrs. Murphy and Mra Flannigan, unpleasantly close I should say in times when "Murphy is out wid Flannigan,',' and a regular guard must be mounted to protect the clothes pole, with its fluttering, forked, scarlet pennanta I found forty-four at the end of the court—the most decent-appearin. house in the row—climbed three flights of stairs, my expectation of a new sensation increasing as my breath decreased, and at last tapped at the patient's door, and was invited in the sweetest little voice to "Come" Let me tell you what I saw. small, round-shouldered room, so narrow at the sides that a child could not stand upright under the sloping roof. A narrow window with an ivy on the sill, doing its sickly best to olimL sunward, but seeming not to have successfully located the sun's position. On the walls a few placques and water color sketches (unsold productions of an unsuccessful artist, I noted mentally); H a xjtctjs pale-faced faibt. bright oolored strip of carpet on the floor where it could be most used, and in the middle of the room where the ceiling was at its highest, a dainty white bed, and ly ing there in state—(I wanted to call her Sweet Elaine and lily maid) a little pale faced fairy, with tumbled golden hair, and eyes of pure violet with palpable under deepa Such a little lady! "You will take a chair. You are the doctor, aren't you?" she said. My dear, I was just and only a woman, so I slipped down on the bed and put my arms round the little, lovely, lonely thing, forgetful of patients, and of Bob, impa tient, waiting at the corner with the bug gy— It that nine o'clock striking? Then I mutt save the rest for another time. What will Henry say? I told him I would be back in half an hour at the outside " Just like it," he'll say, " when you only just run in to see Jeanette, I may as well go out or go to bed What do yon women find to talk about?" The dootor is drawing on her glovea " You will be better, dear, in the morning, but don't try to get to church (much needed advice) and leave the flowers to me Good-bye, and take the medicine in the small tumbler till the head is easier." The doctor is at the door—" Jeanette, I've a happy thought " (as if she had not planned this denouement from the beginning). Why not run in on my little patient in the morning, if you do feel equal to going out; then you can report to me in the after noon when I come in to tell you about the morning service Good-bye, I'm really gone this time" And the doctor goe3 down stairs with the satisfied feeling only known to successful diplomacy. Tho hours pass, and with them Mra Marsden's pains. Yet some tears are on her pillow, proving her human kinship with the tired sewing girl, who softly cried herself to sleep and wandered oat into the twilight realm of dreams, leaving far behind her wraps, bon nets and disappointments. Mra Marsden, too, slept, and dreamed that a mournful train bore "Elaine the lovable" "all in white samite robed " and laid her on the steps at her own house door. «*•••« The morning of Easter Sunday dawns as befits the day—bright and fair. The prying sun peers into Mra Marsden's room upon a woman in a somewhat remorseful an-1 sub dued state of mind The headache of last night seems to have become a heartache, for her heart does ache; whether for her own sorrows or those of the haunting Elaine of last night's dream, is not to be known, for the sun throws no light on that ques tion. It may have been due in part to the bells which would persist in saying Eas-ter bon-net— Eas-ter bon-net They said it soberly, they said it sneeringly, they sang it, and chanted it, and tolled it; they said it solemnly and they said it with great bursts of laughter Occasionally they would remem ber their duty and pour out the grand strains of the Old Hundred—always going back to the old theme: Eas-ter bon-net—Eas-ter bon-net They behaved very much like the choir which intermits its gossip to sing a Gloria Was Easter a question of bonnets? It was a very uncomfortable question for Mra Marsden to begin the day with A little later and the sun shines in the windows of the house of worship mas querading In all the colors of the rtin bow-hued cathedral glass. It shines on Dr. Dorem, whose fingers aids his near-sighted eyes to follow the crooked trail of his man uscript It shines on the just and unjust, impartially on Mra Merlin, inwardly raging because the green tints of the glass are killing the colors in her head-gear and giving her a ghastly complexion On Mra Frisbee, who is burning to publish her dis covery that a would-be fashionable is wear ing an old wrap revamped for Easter duty. Don't be too long, Dr. Dorem, for the house waits to go into committee In due time the sun shines in a certain narrow garret window in Breeds court, making an aureole about the curls of little Lily, who, clasped in her sister's arms, joins her voice in holy Herbert's hymn: Sweet day, so coo], so calm, so bright" For here in this upper chamber it is Easter, too; not altogether out of the shadow of that bonnet, but very much in the sun-shine of love It is Bessie's day— her one unbroken day—with the little sister who is both sister and daughter in one The Easter flowers are missing from this Bcene of worship—missing and sorely missed That was Bessie's disappointment She had planned a bunch of violets and one tall calla, both for the sweet Lily In her arma Every day as she worked the flowers lent fragrance to her thoughta An ticipation of the round-eyed pleasure of sister Lily quickened her pulse and made her needle fairly dance along the seams to the happy goal of reward; and when, empty of purse, she walked past the shops that held the coveted treasures, she could see them without taming the face, with its moist eyes and quivering chin. " Ohl 1c was too bad, too thoughtless!" she cried. The sun climbs higher and higher, yet manages to cling with one slender finger to Lily's locks. The sparrows that had rowdily scuffled and scolded between intervals of domestio gossip, fluttered from the window ledge up to the spout above, their chirping a fitting accompaniment to the benedictory hymn of this congregation—Milton's sublimely simple words: " Let us with a gladsomo mind, Praise the Lord, for He is kind; For His mercies shall endure, Ever faithful, ever sure." " Now, Lily dear, I am going down to con sult cook alout dinner," says Bessie, cs she placed her sister on the bed. Lily smiles at the well-worn fiction which clothes the kindly privilege accorded by Mra Milligan of the floor below, to "use the cooking stove, honey, whenever the fires goin', for it costs no ~cre for the two of us than the one of us, ye sea" Left alone, Lily lies and looks toward the liffht, wondering where the sun has gone; wondering whether mamma knows which window to look in at, or can see her (if she knows) from so very far away. She is still wondering and more wildly when: tap! tap! "May I come in?" nnd there stands Mra Marsden. The sight of that sweet, startled, child face puts Mrs. Marsden at her best, which is saying every thing, for it makes her irresistible. * I am Mra Marsden, dear. Your doctor's assistant The doctor gave me no medi cine, so I brought some flowera Yes, violets; I sent and robbed the church this morning. You needn't look serious, the flowers were my own. You love flowers, I can see it by your eyes—and it was for your eyes I brought them. No, I am not going to take the chair, but sit right here on the bed, so. " Who could withstand Mrs. Marsden in such a mood? Not little Lily, who capitulated at once and let her hand lie willingly in the warm, soft clasp of its captor. " Now, teH me, aren't you very much sur prised?" Lily's wondering had taken such celestial sweejis that an angel would hardly have been a surprise; so she answered: "Yes, ma'am, that is, not so very much I did think mamma would tell God, and I am so glad. It is better to be a little girl than a sparrow, isn't it? Sister says God cares for the sparrows; only sometimes when she is so long away, it seems as if God might forget a little girl that couldn't go out of doors, where He could see her real plain." Certainly the pain ox yesterday has gone to Mrs. Marsden's heart And oh ! the fan tastic ghost of that murdered bonnet! Why would it pursue her? She pats the little cheek, and smooths the bright hair. " Where it your sister, child? Why is she not with you?" The child fancied an implied rebuke in the question, and hastened to the defence, "Sister never leaves me except when she's at work, and even then, if she is near enough, she always runs home to see me at lunch-tima. It was much nicer when she used to paint and do Kensington and that, because I could watch her, but people would not buy her things, though they were so nice; and sometimes we had such a little to eat that sister could not put any crumbs out on the ledge for the sparrows. She always puts some now before she goes, and sometimes a beautiful pigeon comes and eats the cruraba I wish I could have it for my own." Kiss the child, Mra Marsden, and try to smother an uncomfortable suspicion that Dr. Lucy deliberately stopped short of tell ing her story last night. Sister will be so glad you brought the flowers," says the child, " because she meant to bring me some last night, only she couldn't because"—and just here Bessie enters, flushed from her work at the stove, and stands looking in bewilderment at the scene The situation would have been much more embarrassing for Mra Marsden had she not been a good woman. Like many another good woman, her vision was usually focussed for long-range bencv olence. You can't see Breeds co^rt when you are looking at Benarea But ihere was no hesitation when Mra Marsden did see Impulsively, she mov«d tc wh?*e Bessie \ fïtlAnii. bessie entees ÏXUSiriD from heb woe il stood, and taking her hand, said:: "You must forgive me, dear. I have been a very foolinh woman, but I am not wicked I hope .'hat it may yet prove good for us both and for the drooping L ! ly there, that my foolishness sent you away with an empty purse on the eve of Easter. I will send Mary to make amends for my remiss ness Ax the morning artd you will come and call on me- in the afternoon, in token that you forgive me." Bessy's trembling lips could not frame a reply any more than Ihey c->uld refuse the kiss of peace that was laid upon them. Mra .Marsden went her way, and as she wentVhe said: " I %hank Thee, Lore, for this. Easter day and for Thy ministry;" and for answer came the sweet salu&atiou to hfear spirit: " Peane be unto thee " The ghost of the txtanet was laid fronj that moment And but for all this fus» abou» a bonnet, Bessie Bartram might never have moved out from Breeds court, and lily lacked the skill and kindness thai made her a strong and healthy girl? Who knows; for "God fulfills Himself in many way a" But so it happened, and Mra Mars den »ever puts on her Saster bonnet with out——«. Then she did go back to her old frivol/ty? Pooh! One must have bonnets; and then, there's a world of difference be tween bonnets for Easter and Easter for bonniTta E G. Chevebton. Easter Thoughts. TBS story of Easter is told in many ways. •Easter Cards "in large letters ireets the eye is the store windowa Easter carols are written and sung by the various Sun day-schools and congregations Special music, the finest of the year, is prepared for Faster, and specal sermons tax the mlnWtera Flowers are planted and cultivated ea peciaUy for Easter, for it is then the most elaborate floral displays are made. So nature and art unite to honor Him whe took our nature upon Him, and left His throne to suffer for our sins, and red eem us from a world «f sin; who died and rose again to be the first fruits of thrro that sie 3j).— Christian at Work. FIGHTING HORSES. A Fierce Encounter Between Two Stall ions anil a Jack. Somo horses, of course, arc almost incurably vicious, and must be con quered by main force. O.ie pleasing brute on my ranch will at times rush at a man open-mouthed like a wolf, and it is a regular trick of the range stallions. In a great many-—indeed, in most localities there are wild horses to be found, which although invariably of domestic decent, being either themselves runaways from some ranch or Indian outfit,' or else claiming such for their sires and dams, yet are quite as wild as the an telope on whose domain they have in truded. Ranchmen run in these wild horses whenever possible, and I hey are but little more difficult to break than the so-called "tame" animals. But the wild stallions are, whenever possible, shot; both because of their propensity for driving off the ranch mares, and because their incurable viciousness makes them always tin safe companions for other horses >till more than for men. A wild stallion fears no beast [except the grizzly, and will not always flinch from an en counter with it; yet it is a curious fact that a jack will almost always kill one in a fair fight. The particu lars of a fight of this sort were related to me by a cattle man who was en gaged in bringing out blooded stock from the East. Among the animals under his charge were two great slali ions, one gray and one black and a fine jackass, not much over half the size of either of the former. The ani mals were kept in separate pens, but one day both horses got into the same inclosure, next to the jack-pen, and began to fight as orly enraged stall ions can, striking like boxers with their forefeet, and biting with their teeth. The gray was getting the best of it; but while clinched with his an tagonist in one tussle ihey rolled against Ihe jack-pen, breaking it in. No sooner was the jack at liberty than, with cars laid back and mouth wide open, he made I straight for the two horses, who had for the moment separated. The gray turned to meet him, rearing on his hind leg: and striking at him with his fore-feet; but the jack slipped in, and in a minute grasped his antago nist by the throat with his wide-open jaws, and then held on like a bulldog, all four feet planted stiffly in the soil. The stallion made tremendous efforts to shake him off; he would try to whirl round and kick him, but for that the jack was too short; then he would rise up, lifting the jack off the ground, and strike at him with his fore feet; but all iliat he gained by this was to skin his foe's front legs without mak ing him loose his hold. Twice they fell, and twice the stallion rose, by main strength dragging the jack with him; but all in vain. Meanwhile the black horse attacked both the combat ants with perfect impartiality, strik ing and kicking them with his hoofs, while his teeth, as they slipped off the tough hides, met with a snap like that of a bear-trap. Undoubtedly the jack would have killed at least one of the horses had not the men come up, and with no small difficulty separated tho maddenedjbrutes. — Theodore Rosoevelt. in Century. CRUELTY TO ANIMALS. The Greatest Hardships to Which Farm Stock Is Subjected. In these latter society-for-tlie-pre vention-of-cruelty-to-animals days and days of dehorning, etc., the question of what constitutes unnecessary cruel ty to animals is given a new promi nence and is very widely discussed from a sentimental point of view. Prominent among the growing prac tices which come in for a liberal share of criticism from the standpoint of the humanitarian is dehorning; in the same category arc placed the clipping and docking of horses. Without enter ing into a discussion of these matters in detail, it strikes us that, provided the processes are not followed by last ing pain, they are justifiable if they subserve any of the following pur poses: (1) If they contribute to tho health or the comfort of the animals; (2) if they materially acid to the safe ty or convenience with which the stock may be handled; and (3) if they noticeably enhance the profits of stock raising. The greatest unnecessary cruelty to which the brute creation is subjected comes from pther sources than surgic al operations performed with certain ends in view, or processes undertaken for the purpose of altering existing conditions. If stock raisers would so look after the pain and stiff ring which come from neglect as to entirely or even measurably remedy tho evils of which every man is a witness, humani tarians could afford to drop the matter of trying to defend the brutes. Ill-fit ting harness, exposure to the worst of weather, poor quarters or no quarters for animals in parturition, poor far riery, filthy surroundings, badly ar ranged stables, poor feed, insufficiency of feed, irregularity of feeding—these and a score of similar things which could be enumerated—are more clear ly within the line of unnecessary cruelty than even the most doubtful of the mutilating practices advocated or already established for eliminating or changing existing characteristics of farm stock. These cruelties exist almost wholly because of over sight or sheer thoughtlessness, and for this very reason are the most, diffi cult of all to be raised or removed. How many readers feel that there is not some point bearing on this subject in which their management could be improved ?— National Stockman. —San Francisco policemen say they have never seen a drunken Chinaman. FULL OF FUN. —The young man who pays strict attention to the ehurch bell has a good many chances of escaping the police wagon gong.— Louisville Courier-Jour nal. —Robinson—"How about that note I hold of j-ours, Brown? I've had it so long that whiskers are beginning to grow on it." Brown—"Wiiy don't you get it shaved, then?" —Justice—"Ninety «lays. See that fellow gets a bath." Prisoner—"All right. Judge. I don't mind tJ ig wash ing, only so I ain't ironed afterward." —Harper's Bazar. —A school teacher recently asked her class the question: "What is a pilot?" The smart boy answered: "It is a lot where they grow pie plant." and was sent to the foot of ihe class. — Milwaukee Wisconsin. —Mary — "George, if I die, promise me one thing." George— "What is it. Mary." Mary—"That you will marry Emma Wilkins. " George—"Why, ] thought you hated her, Mary." Mary — "I do, George. I want to get even with her."— Life. —Young Mr. Wabash (to Miss Waldo, of Boston, at a dancing party)— "Will you favor me with two or three rounds. Miss Waldo?" Miss Wald<> (an ad mirer" of John L. of course) — "Certain ly, Mr. Wabash, with pleasure. Or. if you like, we will continue it to a fin ish."— Ni Y. Sun. —Farmer Barlow—"Tom, what does that sign say?" Tom—"It savs Green' grocers,' father." Farmer Barlow— "Stop right here, Tom, and hitch tho old mare. I've been looking for that kind of a grocer all tho morning. I guess we can work off our last spring's limed eggs here."— Detroit Free Press. —A Irishman who had come over to New York, was being shown around the city by his cousin. At last reaching the magnificent St. Patrick's Cathedral, Paddy stopped and ex claimed: "That beats the di vil." "Yes, Paddy, that was the original inten tion."— Merchant Traveler. — "What papers have j r ou got?" asked a passenger, as a young man boarded the train at Bad Egg, Ariz., with a bundle under his arm. "I don't know as it's any of your busi ness; but if a possycomatus for Bill Young, , a mandymanus for Sweep stake Fearing, and a nol prosiqui for old Uncle Hank Eldredge interests you any, them's it,"— Puck. —In the Chemical Laboratory: "Pro fessor, what has become of Tom Ap pleton? Wasn't he studying with the class last year?" "Ah, yes; Appleton — poor fellow! A fine student, but ab sent minded in the use of chemicals— very. That discoloration ou the ceil ing. Notice it?" "Yes." "That's him. " — Tid- Bits. A COMING ATTRACTION. piano id Discovery of One of the Plain, O Id-Fash ioned Kind of Boy a. "I'd like to have you see my boy," said a gentleman to a well-known theatrical manager the oth;r day. "I think it would pay you to put him be fore the public." "Infant phenomena are played out, my dear sir," was the reply. "3 don't think we can do any business to gether." "But, you see, my boy ■" "Pianist, I suppose. That schem* has been worked for all its worth " "But lie never touched his life." "Cornet player, then, I suppose." "He don't know a cornet from a haj mow." "Plays the violin, I presume. Nc money in that sir." "He don't play any thing." "Oh; boy actor, then, of course. My dear fellow, try to get the notion oui of his head. I—" "But he don't act" "Ah, then, he's an elocutionist 01 all the curses to society an infant el—" vBut he isn't an elocutionist" "Sings, eh? There are dead loads of boy sopranos, and while I don't want to hurt your feelings—" "He don't sing. ' ' "Well, what in thunder does he do? What is he? i Boy juggler? Chess player? Lightning-calculator? Jig dancer? Gymnast?—" "Why, he don't do any thins: in particular. He'« just one of the oliK fashioned kind of boys we used to have years ago, and I thought " "My dear sir, bring him around this afternoon, and I guess we can agree on terms. Great Scot! This is a streak of luck!" The boy will shortly make his ap pearance, if it doesn't develope into a phenomenon before the arrange ments are completed.— F. A. Steams, in Tid-Bits. The Lightning Courtesy. A recent reception at tho Whitt House was almost at an end when a unique little entertainment was fur nished those who stood behind the re ceiving line. A fair young girl was presented to the President As he took her hand she ducked down six inches; the movement might bo termed a lightning courtesy. The same action precisely was repeated a moment later, as Mrs. Cleveland shook hands with her. She remained chatting with the wife of the President "How awfully 'country?' What part of Idaho do you suppose she came from?" was the comment at my elbow on the "light ning courtesey." "That is the noted Bostonese professional beauty, and that trick is the latest English custom on being presented to people of note. The movement is a difficult one, and there will be much humor in town if the amateur bîauties determine ta adopt it. — Washington Critic.