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Parson Prater's Watchword.
Trouble was brewing in Bear Cove. It all came, so Granny Haley said, "long o' that young parson, ez war too young ter know right from wrong, anyhow." But public opinion was divided as to the cause of the Bear Cove trouble. The young preacher himself declared it was simply "the natchril result uv the effort ter mix sin an' religion, which everybody knows air no more give ter mixin' nor ile an' water." Old Grandad McElroy asseited that "the corn-shuckin' down ter Si Larkins'* war the hull cause o' the disturbmint. Not," he said, "that corn-shuckin's air not lawful an'good entertainmints theirse'ves, but when they be turned inter dancin' parties and dram-drinkin' hit air time ter stop." Gc grandad "sided" with the preach er, who threatened to "unchurch" the revellers, old and youne while Granny Haley took sides with the young folks, who "aimed ter thrash the parson out the day hedonesech." So the matter stood, until it sud denly occurred to one of the offenders that Parson Lyle had no juiisdiction over them since he was a Baptist, when investigation showed that none but Methodists had been guilty of violating the church law. The news was promptly reported to the young preacher fret tine over the sins of the Bear Cove brethren, and he recognized at once that he was powerless to execute his threat. One meeting-house did not make them one church, although the Bear Cove wor shippers had been a very united and friendly people. So much so, indeed, that Parson Lyle had entirely over-, looked the fact that there were, in' deed, two denominations composing his congregation. He recoenizpd it now, however, as he sat in his lonely little cabin under the shadow of the mountain, trying to discover, if possible, some other means of "circumventin' the works o' the evil one." "I might preach 'em a sarmon," he said, "an' p'int out sech ez air fitten ter enter the Kingdom. Hit air a union meetin'-house, an' I sartinly hev that right." The Information as to the parson's intention went the rounds of the neighborhood, exciting, if possible, more indignation than the threat of expulsion had done. "He air a meddlesome young roos ter," Granny Haley declared. To which expression of opinion Grandad McElroy added, "He air a game one, anyhow ye air boun' ter admit that air. He sart in ly air game.'' "Waal," retorted granny, "I didn't know ez the church war a-needin' uv prize-fighters." "Yaas, it air," said grandad. "A preacher hev ez much call ter defen' his principle? =z a cyarpinter an' a blacksmith hev. Ef he don't do it he air apt to be plumb overrid, I'm a-thinkin'." All of the conversation of which these remarks were a part was duly and elaborately reported to the young preacher, who felt no little gratifica tion at Grandad McElroy's approval of his spirit. He determined, there fore, to proceed freely and boidly in the course which he felt the situation demanded. The little log church, tucked cosily under the wing ot the mountain at the head of the cove was a new venture. The people had done very well with out it, some ot them said, the Scratch out meeting house, five miles distant, being quite "near enough for all their needs and purposes. But one pro gressive spirit among them had set the bail of innovation rolling, and it had rolled on until the new meeting-house, a marvel of cedar logs and fresh daub ing, spread itself under the elm and ash trees like a hen waiting "togather her brood under her wings." It was a union meeting-house, open to any shepherd kind enough to come and break the Bread of Life to the hungry flock "without money and without price." Such a thing as pay inga minister had not been heard of at Bear Cove. When the young preacher pitched his tent under the shadow of old Bon Air that tow ers above Bear Cove, he thanked heaven that here in the fertile strip of land, where rent was cheap and labor light! he would be able to minister to the needs of his own body at the same time that he fed the hungry souls of huncanity. "They-uns air not ez hongry ez I 'lowed they war," he told himself as he sat for a moment under the with ered hop vine that rattled about the cabin door, and meditated on the punishment he ment to administer to the offenders in the Lord's vineyard. He would preach them a sermon they would not soon forget, for dar ing to threaten him. He had labored among them almost two years work ed for nothing, to receive at last a threat of a "thrashing." He meant to settle the account with theia the very first "big day" when the entire neighborhood would be out to hear. He" would risk a thrashing he was amply able to defend himself. Defend himself—ah! that was the trouble. His fight against sinful world liness had been distorted into a com mon case of self defense. His own grievances had multiplied so fast as to swallow up the sin agaiuet the Master. He had lost sight of the real root ot the evil in his regard for the worthless branches that had sprung from it. Some such thoughts came to him as he sat alone with his conscience, but he put it aside. He could not afford to play the coward he knew those people too well to risk his claim to their respect in any sncb way. He would fight it out with them. He' would not depend upon his cloth to protect him, nor because of it would he take their insult3. There was ciine enough "to stir up a good sar mon," he told himself, "an' hev it ready 'ginst Christmas Day. three weeks off an' fallen' on a Wednes day." His determination was no secret the very text of the wonderful ser mon was known to the Cove people, and "the opposition" prepared for the "big day" with as much zeal as the parson himself showed. "Hit air unly fair ter tell him what we-uns air aimin' ter do," old Si Larkins said. The revel, that had begun in a corn-shucking and ended in a drunken dance, had* been at Si's house, and he had in consequence been tacitly chosen leader of the defence. "Naw," they agreed, "it air unly fair ter Jet the parson know he hev been op'n an' fair with we uns." So Pete Larkins, Si's oldest son, armed with a rifle, rode over to the cabin under the brow of the moun tain to inform the preacher that just so soon as the sermon should be over he was invited to join the neigh bors in an entertainment "by the black-jack tree in the wil' plum thick et back o' the meet'n'-house." Pate noted carefully the effect of the invitation. If he expected to see any sign of tear or of flinching ne was mis taken. The plucky little preaoher stood his ground as bravely as the bravest. He looked up coolly into the bloated face of the reckless moun taineer astride Si's big gray mare. "I'll be tber', Pete," he said, "fas or funeril, I'll be ther'. Tell the breth erin." "Tell the bretherin." The words had a familiar sound, somehow, avery pleasant sound. Pete rode off with a strange, new feeling about his heart for the lonely little preacher livine all alone in the cabin under the shadow of the mountain. He admired him thoroughly. "He air game," he told himself but it was not the "gameness" that had touched him, it was the message: "Tell the brethren." "Soun's like it might a-come out o' the Bible hitself," he said and all the way home Pete busied his mind in try ing to place the parson's words. "War it Paul?" he asked himself, "or war it Christ, ez said that word?" He could not decide, his Scriptural knowledge was so meagre, but long before he reached home with the mes sage, Pete had withdrawn from the fight against Parson Lyle. "He air a younger man nor me," he said to him self "an' a weaklier man an' a better, and I air not aimin to hinder lum none." The day before Christmas dawned clear and cold. As if to emphasize his independence Si Larkins had caus ed it to be norated round" that he was preparing a feast for Christmas Night, and all the young folks in the Cove were expected to be on hand and join in a Christmas dance. This was the crowning insult and it quite put to flight any lingering doubt of the wisdom of his course that might have found lodgment in the mind of the little mountain preacher. He was angry and he added many a scathing reprimand to the already long discourse that he had prepared for Christmas. The country tor miles around had heard of the trouble at Bear Cove and the promised sermon of reproof. The people would be out in full force, and Parson Lyle declared he would give them "the full value fur ther'trouble." It was noon when old Parson Pra ter, away over in Sunset Cove, rode up to the door of his cabin, dismount ed, and after saluting his wife and children, began to remove the saddle from old Bald. He had been absent for several weeks, "over ter Bledsoe helpin' uvthe brethrin in a meeting'." He was tired and glad to get home and said so he asked at the same time for "the news'" of the neighbor hood. "Ye hevn't heera o' the trouble over ter B'ar Cove, I lectin?" his wife ask ed just at the moment when the loos ened girth fell about the horse's feet. Parson Prater paused, the saddle half-drawn from the animal's back. "Be ther' trouble ter B'ar Cove?" he asked. "The hull kentry air alive with it," she told him. "Hit air all'count o' that Metherdia' dancin' party you heeard about. Hit air been a-brewin' nigh on ter two months, and now the E•yleair ot 'bout ter bile over. Parson aims ter preach a open sarmon ter morrer fur a Christmas git', an they-uns down ther' hev laid out ter strap him ter a blask-jack tree an' thrash him ter an inch uv his life when he air done preachin'." She paused the old man had slip ped the saddle back to its place, and buckled the girth again. "Wher'be ye goin'ter, Caleb?" she asked of him. "About my Master's business," he told, her and the weary old ambassa dor for peace mounted his horse and turned his face toward the cabin in Bear ove. "That war a suddint call," his wife declared, as horse and rider disap peared down the long lane, and she felt half-vexed that she had not post poned the telling of the news of the disturbance until both man and beast had taken a few moment's rest. The sun was almost ready to drop behind the mountain when old Bald turned into the road leading to Par son Lyle's cabin. The owner was gathering chips at the woodpile, but left his basket and went to meet hie visitor. "Light?" he said, half hoping he would say no, for he guessed In part the object of the visit. "Naw," said the old man, "I 'low it air not wuth while." Heglanced down at the young face shadowed by care, and bearing the marks of toil and weariness. A good face withal, bearing witness to the strong heart it indexed. "Ye be worried, brother," said the older man. "Yaas, man air born ter trouble ez the sparks flies up'ard," was the answer. The old man leaned forward, and laid his hand upon the younp preach er's shoulder. "Brother," he said, "1 hev been young an' air now ole an' I hev lived bjr one rule, an' it air a good un, a mighty good rule ter live by." He paused as a frown darkened the face of his listener. "Naw," ne went on, "I ben't a-medhn'!" He halt turned in his saddle, and, pointed down the road by which he had come. "I war born'd ter this cove," he said, jest this side o' that rocky rise ye see yanrier. That air a good road a safe road, barrin' uv the two rocky places it hev got. "Whenst 1 war a boy, I useter ride ter mill, an' do all the yerrands for we-uns fam'ly. Ther' was alius trou ble crossin' them rocky places in the road. Unot the hoss stumbled an' skinned my leg. Ones he rid me up aginst one o' them big boulders side the road, an' slit the meal sack. An' onct the jolt'n' uv the crittershuk the cider tug out o' my arms an' bruk it. They-uns war jest orful, them rocky places war. I min' now how my dad dy useter call ter me ez I war start'n' off in a kind o' quick trot: 'Go slow over the rough places, Caleb.' An' ef I done it, ther' war neyer no danger, ef I went slow over the rough places." "Hit got ter be a sort o'song ter we uns. 'Go slow over the rough places, Caleb.' It seemed ter tit ever'thing, an' finally we-uns tuK it ez a sort o' watchwoid ter steer by. "Ther' never war a hitch or a ben der, out my ole mammy useter say, 'Go slow over the rough places, Caleb,' meanin' me or rhe ole man ez war both nained Caleb. I kin shet my eyes an' heear her now 'Go slow over the rough places, Caleb.' Hit war the last word she ever give me left it ter me ter live by—a 'watchword' she named it. "An' when I heeard ez how you-uns war a-gallopm' over a mighty rough place in the road. I jest buckled tne saddle on ter ole Bald, and rid over to B'ar Cove to give ye my ole mam my's watchword." The old preacher paused his voice was serious and impressive as he went on, "Go slow over the rou^h places,' brother, ef ye hev a keer far tte skin uv yer legs, an' the meal-bag. an' the cider jug, go slow.' An' ef ye hev a keer fur yer own safety an' the good o' the worl', go slow, 'go mighty slow over the rough places.' Take ole Parson Prater's "watchword along with you ye'll tin' it a good word an' a helpful ont, ter live by." He left him, with the setting sun striking full into his furrowed young face, and that other light creeping close into his heart, smoothing from it all the furrows of doubt and care "It air a good word," he said, "an* it air a safe word. Parson Prater's watchword air sartinly a safe word." He went back to finish the filling ot the chip basket, and when after a while hestood under the withered hop vines, he saw the parson's horse sud denly brought from a brisk canter to a slow, careful walk. "Parson Prater hev retched the rough place," he said, and then he went in to muse and ponder upon the new lesson he had learned. He sat before the fiie until iate, thinking over the sermon he haa pre pared for the morrow. "It air pep pery," he said, "it sartinlv air pep pery." Busy with his own thoughts he did not rouse himself, until the hickory log Mil apart into a mass of white ashes. '"I be a fool," he said, bitterly, "a plumbfool. I hev been a gollopin' over rocks big enough ter bu'ld a mount'n ez high ez Bon Air hitse'f. I be a fool, a fooi ter hev done it." Christmas day in Bear Cove was fair enough, and cold enough, and but for the excitement occasioned by the prospect of the parson's fiery sermon, would, in all probability, have been dull enougu. Under the cliffs great, columns of ice rose like crystal pillars aglow with the reflected radiance of the sun. On bluffs fringed with crystals, a crown of dainty wintergreen daunted its crim son berries in the very face of winter. Where the remnants of the last snow fall lay upon the ground, the snow birds hopped nimbly about in some kind of a Christinas revel, known on ly to themselves. But Parson Lyle was blind to all the beauties of creation as he rode down the lane toward the little log meeting- house, where bis coming was anxiously awaited. There was a hush when he entered. A hush, more of curiosity, perhaps, than of respect. Old Si Larkins sat stiff and staring just in front ot the tall pulpit. His brows were contracted, and a half sneer was perceptible UDon his face when the parson entered. But when the very young man with the very old, careworn face arose behind the pulpit, and began the hymn, the old man's fierceness vanished. Where was all the "game" that had been reported? There was no "fight in' upstart," but a modest man of God. Si Larkins thought with self scorn of the bundle 01 switches hidden away in the wild plum thicket, that were to mete out vengeance for that day's sermon. Sermon? There wasn't any ser mon only a calm little talk about life, its duties and its dangers. •'Go slow!'' Go slow over the rough places," was the burden of the discourse that rang a triendly warning to the hot-hearted people travelling life's uncertain highway." As he toss ed the watchword to them, lifted it like a danger signal before them, the burden of anger and doubt and sor row rolled from his own heart, and he stood before them once more with a soul above the petty Jworries of life. They caught his meaning and under stood, and realized the mad gallop they were having. "Go slow over the rough places." That was all of the wondertul sermon that was to have been as fire and sword to them. He bad feared for his reputation for how would they know that it re quired more courage for him to stand before them, and wave that simple olive branch than would have been required to meet them in a hand-to hand fight. He thought they must brand him forever as a coward afraid to stand by his boast. He felt so sure oi it, indeed, that he would have stolen out where his horse was hitch ed and huried home at once, but for the invitation to the thicket. Knowing perfectly what the invita tion meant, and caring but little for the result, he walked calmly out from the building, and went over to where Pete Larkins was talking with a crowd of men. He stepped into the midst of them and confronted Pete. "Brother," he said, "I be here ter accept uv yer invertation." Pete reddened the others grinned and moved away. '•The ole man gin the word," said Pete, "ez I was ter fetch yer 'long o' me." "Here I be," was the submissive reply, and Pete led the way to where the horses were waiting. They mounted their horses and as Pete, still leading, turned into the big road toward Si Larkin's house and away from the thicket, the preacher checked his horse. "Brother," he said, "the thicket air ter the left." Pete laughed. "The old man 'lowed it war toocol' fur a picnic," he said, "so the enter tainmint hev been changed to a Christ mas dinner. An' they-uns air wait'n' fur you ter come an' ax the blessin'. Ther' air ter be no dancin', but—look out ther', parson! Go slow over the rough places." Pete laughed aloud as the preach er's horse stumbled among the rocks. Tbanks to Parson Prater's watch word, the Bear Cove church quarrel was forever ended. WILL ALLEN DKOMGOCILF.. Work of the Congress. From a rerant exchange. The establishment of rapid commun ications between the United States and the Central and South American States is one of the most important objects of the International Congress which opened last week at Washing, ton. Secretary Blaine in his admira ble speech recognized this fact when be expressed his belief that not only would the two halves of the Continent be drawn together more closely by highways of the sea, but also that at no distant time the railway systems of the North and South would meet at the Isthmus and connect by land routes the political and commercial centers of all America. The visiting delegates during their journey in the United States will be afforded au op portunity, not only for inspecting what is already the greatest foreign market for the produce of their own countries, but also for witnessing the extraordinary development, of railway and transportation facilities, which is one ot the main causes of National growth and prosperity. Their delib erations in the Congiess can hardly fail to be affected by" their tour of ob servation of the industrial centers and railway system of the United States. While they will have nopowertocom mit their Governments to any meas ures of legislation or to any compre hensive policy, they may unite in a series of general recommendations which, if promptly and decisively act ed upon by the United States Congress, will promote rapid communications and commercial exchanges between North and South. From the judi cious temper which the delegates have already shown in the preliminary pro ceedings, it is reasonable to assume that they will hospitably entertain practical projects for bringing all American countries into constant and harmonious relations. For the promotion of rapid and di rect communication by sea the most natural and effective policy that can be adopted is that of offering iiberal mail contracts to American steam ships plying directly between the ports of the two gieat sections of the Continent. If this plan be sanctioned by the All-America Congress, the Uni ted States Government will be left in a position to encourage the estab lishment of new lines which, while re ceiving material assistance from North and South in mail subsidies, similar to those recently granted by England to the Canadian Pacific steamers, will inevitably open new markets for the exchange of products and manufactures. Side by side with this development of an Ameri can commercial marine may be placed the question of building an overland railway connecting all the American States and furnishing permanent facilities for the establish ment and aevelopement of continen tal trade. Such a project is not more visionary than the plan of building the. transcontinental roads seemed at the close of the civil war. The Con gress can open the way tor this vast enterprise by discussing the condi tions under which the right of way may be secured and railway construc tion encouraged, and the transporta tion of freight intransit through in tervening territories effected without payment of custrms. These and many other practical questions con nected with the building of an inter continental railway and the opening of highways in the sea will undoubt edly receive deliberate consideration before the work of Congress is com pleted. Oriental Justice. Dr. Henry M. Scudder relates a case of Oriental justice that could hardly be outdone for sharp and subtle dis criminations. Four men, partners in business, bought some cotton bales. That the rats might not destroy the cotton, they purchased a cat. They agreed that each of the four should own a particular leg ot the cat and each adorned with beads and other ornaments the leg thus appropirated to him. The cat, by an accident, in jured one of its legs. The owner of that member wound about it a rag soaked in oil. The cat, going too near the fire, set the rag on fire, and being in great pain, rushed in among the cotton bales where she was accus tomed to hunt rats. The cotton there by took fire and was burned. It was a total loss, The three other part ners brought an actioh to recover the value of the cotton against the fourth partner who owned tne particular leg of the cat. Thn judge examined the case and decided thus: The leg that had the oil-rae on it was hurt the cat could not use that leg—in fact, it held up that leg and ran with the other three legs. The three unhurt legs therefore carried the fire to the cot ton, and are alone culpable. The in jured leg is not to be blamed. The three partners who owned the three legs with which the cat ran to the cotton will pay the whole value of the bales to the partner who was the pro prietor of the injured leg." Alcoholism, Crime, and Insanity. The time must soon come when the question of the proper method ot dealing with the alcohol question will become one for statesmen, rather than, as now, for fanitics and politi cians to consider. The tacts and statistics recently brought out at the Congress of Alconolism in Paris illus trates this very well. One of the top ics for discussion was the relation of alcoholism to crime. Every_ one knows that excessive alcholic indul gence leads to crime, but the attempt was made to show a direct relation between the two. The following tables were given- In France the average amount of alcohol consumed per capita in— 1873-77 2.72 liters. 1878 82 3.53 1S83-S7 3.83 The increaseof crime was from 172 -, 000 to 195,000. The increase of in sanity from 37,000 to 52,000, In Belguim the figures were: 1851 138 lit. beer, 5.87 alc'l, 2.00 wine. 1871 150 7.00 3.55 1S81 170 9.75 3.72 There was during this period al most a doubling in crimes, suicide, and insanity. In Italy a similar increase of alco holism. crime, and insanity was shown. In Norway, since 1S44-, the amount of alcohol consumed has gradually been reduced from ten liters per inhab itant to four liters (in 1876), with corresponding decrease of crime. The above figures are certainly verv striking, and it is particularly instruct ive to learn that the decrease of crime and alcoholism in Norway has been due, not to prohibition, but to lessen ing the number of licenses, increasing the tax on spirits, and the temporary depression in business. It will not do, however, to trace all the increase of crime and insanity to alcohol. In Bern, for example, where there are only 4 saloons to 1,000 in habitants, crimes were more numer ous than in Zurich, where the ratio is 12 to 1,000. Professor Vauderoy, of Liege, asserts that the increase of the tax on spirits in Belgium has had but a slight result and Dr. Icovesco. of Roumania, asserted that in a district in his country where a large number of saloons were closed, alcoholism continued to '"ncrease. Such exceptions must be borne in mind, but on the whole it seems to be quite certain that high tax or license, and a reduction it the number of saloons and total amount of alcohol consumed, is followed by adiminution in crime. The statistics of some of our own cities carry out this view.—Medical Record. Water Supply For SaiiFrancisco. From the West Shore. That was a pretty big proposition made to the supervisors of San Fran cisco by Hotaling and others, who of fered to put in "a water supply of 30,000,000 gallons daily for $15,000 000. The bringing of the waters of Lake Tahoe, situated amid the sum mit peaks of the Serra Nevada, in pipes to SanFrancisno is by no means a new idea, and a survey and estimate were made some time ago by Von Schmidt, whicti showed that the practicability of tne scheme depend ed entirely upon securing enough money to carry it out. The cost of buying and laying 218 miles of pipe would be $10,000,000, and the re mainder would be required for stor age reservoirs, street maius, hydrants, etc. A survey of the lake shows that it would requite a draft ot 137,000. 000 gallons a day for an entire vear to lower its surface one foot, hence the drawing of the quantity needed would have no effect upon it whatever. Employment would be given to 5,000 men for nearly three years. When Portland wanted to spend $1,500, 000 to secure good water the people thought it was a pretty big proposi tion, but here comes San Francisco with one ten times as great and with a prospect of soon securing it. The Northwestern Coast. Again has attention been called to the defenseless condition of the north west by two of the most able generals in the United States army, in an article on the subject in the Journal of the Military Service Institution for September, General Gibbon reviews the various points of defense on Puget sound, and shows that with that body of water unprotected the whole Paci fic coast is jeopardy. General Miles, also, has made a special tour of inspection and has incorporated his ideas in his official report to the department. Both of these gentlemen agree that millions ol dollars of prop erty in the Columbia river and Puget sound regions lie wholly at the mercy ot any power possessing a first-class war vessel. Our country can not af ford to let such a state of affairs con tinue. Proper defenses should be es tablished on the sound and at the mouth of the Columbia, and the pro posed naval station and ship yard should at once be founded.—West Shore. Is It Tasoott? A man waa captured by the police at Philadelphia en the 26 inst., who bears a striking resemblance to the much sought Tascott. His discription, compared with the Taacott, ia almost exact. His upper teeth are filled with gold, has blue eyes rosy cheeks and rather good looking He is apparently about 23 years o! age. AUTUMKAL SIGNS. How autumn summer puts to rout And chilly winds to blow begin The ice cream joke is going out, The stove pipe joke is coming in. —Exchange. CARL. DUNDER. He is Catching on to American Ways at Last. "Heilo! Mr. Dunder!" saluted Sergt. Bend all as that individual entered the Central station with a broad, satisfied smile on his countenance. Hello! Sergeant. Vhas eafrythings all right mit you!" "I guess so. You look happy." "Sergeant, I vhas shust luse sweet oil. No more troubles for me. I vhas catching on to do shust like Amer icans." "I am glad of that. You used to be terribly green." "So I vhas. Three months ago I doan know Some beans in a bag. Ha! ba! Der cows come along und take me for some grass. If it rains I shtandt right out doors aud get wet. Ha! ha! It makes me laugh when I see how green I vhas!" "Anything happened lately?" queri ed the sergeant in a. careless way. "Vhell, not mooch. Some fellers try to beat me, but dey doan' make oudt. I vhas too sharp for'em. One feller comes along mit six pairs of sheep shears in a bundle. He doan' want to sell dose shears, but he likes to borrow three dollars for one day und leaf 'em for security. If he doan' come pack in one day dose shears vhas mine." "I see." "He doan' come pack. Maype he break his leg or something, but dot vhas nothing to me. I keep dose shears. If somepody beats me, ser geant, he shall haf to get oop werry early in der morning." "1 presume so. Have you the shears there?" "I haf. I beliefyou like tosee 'em." "They are worth two shillings a pair," said the sergeant, after an in spection. You are out of pocket fourteen shillings, and what do you expect to do with sheep-shears?" "Heatens! I doan' think of dot!" gasped Mr. Dunder as he grew white in the face. "Anything else?" "Vhell, I get my life insured. I doan' belief I vhas sheated by dot. A teller comes along und says vhas|I Carl Dunder? I vhas. Vhell, der Presi dent of der United States says he likes me to call on you und insure your life, bis vhas a new company und a new idea. I let you in by der ground floor. I like your name to influence odder people. 'How vhas dot new idea?' "You pay only two dollars eafery twenty years, and if you die your wife gets $75,000. It vhas der biggest thing out. Shildren cry for it. Wan derbilt, Shay Gould, Russell Sage und all der big fellows vhas into it." How oldt you vhas—who vas your grand mother—how many teeth have you lost oudt—vhas youeafer bit by some dogs—did you eafer own a white horse —how often you fall down stairs—do you ride on some bicycles, und dis vhas der truth, der whole truth, und nothing but der truth." "And he wanted the $2 in advance?" queried the sergeant. "Of course. Dot vhas to pay for shwearing me." "Well, you are beaten again, Mr. Dunder, Insurance men don't do business that way. Good day!" "How you mean?" "You had better go home. Have you got a tub in your house?" "Of course." "Any bran at thelbarn?" "Yes."' "Well, make the tub about half full of mash and then put your head to soak for about forty-eight hours. When tnrough buy some No. 4 sand paper and polish it down to the bone." "Sergeant, vhas I some greenhorn?" "You are." "Vhill I eafer learn something?" "Never." "Then good-bye! I shan't try no more. It was a-queer country, und nothing vhas der same two times alike. Vhen my body vhas brought in here doan' make fun of it. Shust use it shently und say dot I did- so well ash I could."—Free Press. VOT EES ZE ZGORE? The Puzzling Experienoe of a For eigner in Boston Town. A certain foreign musician who has iust located in Boston had an exper ience Saturday afternoon which- puz zled him very much. In fact he is not yet entirely clear in his mind what it all means. He tells the story him self: "I come troo Hamilton blace from ze Moosic Hahl," he says "it vos five-und-von-haluf o'clock. I am in a beeg hurry to be by my hotel. First I pays troo a beeg crowd in ze Hamil ton blace I tink zey areeenterestedin ze zymphony consairts. By and by a boy come rush out from a^ shop in ze Hamilton blaze! "Meester! meester!'' he saf, vair moche excited, 'vot ees ze zgore?' "Vot you say?" I ask him 'vot zgore you meant' 'Vy, ze zgore!' he say 'don't you look at ze board?' 'Vot board is dot?' I asked. But ze boy look vair moche surpriseid, und say nodding so 1 valk along. In von minoote I come near to ze corner of ze Dremont street. Und zere, as I valk kvick along out of ze Hamilton blace, a dzhentleman toche his hat and he say: 'Axcoose me, sair, but vot is ze zgore?" 'Dot ees vot I like to know,' I say 'vot ees ze zgore you all dalk about?' "But ze man he schmile a leetle, und he hurry into ze Hamilton blace. I come down Voshington street, to eo by my hotel. Zaire I see a beeg crowd in ze shtreet mit moche excitement und zhouting, So I ask a dzhentle man who shtand zare: 'Bardon me, zair, but vot ees ze excitement?' '''Zay are looking at ze zgore,' he said. "Zaire vos ze zgore again! and he tell me nodding more. Now, will you dell me, bleaae, vot ees ze zgore?"— Boston Transcript.