MOTHER'S BOY.
In the days of childish troubles, when our little world was dnrkencd
With the clouds that mean such gloomy times when on young hearts
they rest,
ri.etv was one unfailing refuge, one sure fount of consolation,
And nil oor troubles faded, sobbed out on our mother'a breast.
Jh, that refuge of our childhood! Oh, that love which never falteredl
To whose sympathies so tender not a sorrow was too small
For the kindest understanding, for the fondest of consoling,
Til! the clouds began to roll away, and love to lighten all.
liow often In the strife and press of life's most real troubles
Does a man long for that comfort that he ran to as a child;
low; in the selfish struggles of the world, Its scorn of sorrow,
Does he yearn for that dear sympathy, no thought of self defiled.
Sow many Umes when wrung by woes or worn by hardest struggling,
Does he pine to llee the world's llcrco fight, In heart and soul oppressed,
nd like a little child again, sekek out that dear old refuge,
And sob out all his troubles on his mother's loving breast
,,hon a man keeps fresh within him that touch of a child's dependence,
All his nature feels the power of its softening alloy;
And more human to his fellows, more responsive to all feeling,
Is the man who deep down In his heart Is still "a mother's boy."
Baltimore American.
Mary had been so uncoinpromlslng
'ly practical and deliberate In making
.preparations for her marriage, that ro
mance was the last thing to bo sus
pected of lurking in her soul. Her
marriage meant the losing of a valu
able member of the household, where,
for several years, her capabilities hall
kept the wheels running smoothly.
.She was not a servant, but rather a
housekeeper who held the family in
terests close at heart, and regarded
those with whom she lived as "her
people," receiving a like regard from
them in return.
Her courtship was a long one. Oc
casionally there would be breaks In
the regularity of Ills visits, at which
breaks, the family, while not wishing
Mary disappointment, would Inwardly
-take hope that nothing serious was
Ltneant by His attentions. During
Jtttese lapses of devotion, Mary would
be unusually silent and a little uncer
tain in temper, this state of mind con
tinuing until He began coming again
in the evenings, which were known In
the household as "the nights for
Mary's beau."
After a while these Interruptions
ceased and Mary's young man was
ever constant. His visits continued for
some time wthout apparent develop
ments, but at last, a complete under
standing having evidently been reach
ed, Mary otliclally announced her en-
gagomoiU.
Her marriage was something In the
remote future, she insisted. She
should not marry until they had a
house of their own to go into; one that
should be built after their own plans,
and paid for out of their own savings.
The choice of Mary's heart apparently
coincided with her views, and proved
himself a patient lover.
The family, after recovering from
the disturbing news of Mary's some
time departure, found consolation in
the thought that It was a long way
off; she was still in the house and
something might happen to keep her
there Indefinitely.
Mary, always frugal and saving, had
a bank account. After her engage
ment It was no longer to her merely
money. Instead It represented carpets
and curtains and various other house
furnishings.
"Wo shall get nothing but what wo
have the cash to pay for,' Mary often
said, and the family enthusiastically
applauded her wishes. Practical sense
like that meant the prolonged stay of
Mary, since the home she stipulated
for must be built from the ground up.
The impetuous side of love's young
dream did not appeal to Mary. Doubt
less she loved the man she was to
marry, and doubtless she had told
him so, but she never gave a hint of
it to others. He continued lining his
' engagements with her on his "regu
lar nignts," nnd occasionally they
wont out somewhere together, though
their pleasure excursions were few
nnd far between, as they took money
which might better bo laid away for
the home building.
Lulled Into fancied security by the
uninterrupted order of things, the fam
ily forgot to take heed of time's swift
passing, and, while it was to bo ex
pected, It was none the less n shock
when Mary, with an unusually happy
smile brightening her face, announced,
"they're begun on the foundation."
Mary was really to be mnrrled. Ac
tual preparations were under way and
tangible proof was afforded by the
hole in the ground, forming the no
glnnlng of Mary's future home. Of
course there were delays to be count
ed on, and the whims and vagaries of
carpenters and plumbers, but the in
evitable was In sight and so far Mary
had not once spoken of the ceremonies
she might wish to attend her wed
ding. "I'm not going to get any new
clothes except a dress to be married
In. I'll have a silk of some kind, and
that will last me for best for a long
time," she said when interrogated on
the subject.
The house and Its furnishing made
the stronger appeal and she would dis
cuss the faults and merits of kitchen
ranges with far more enthusiasm than
she gave to gowns and millinery. As
the house slowly arose on Its founda
tions, Its walls and Interior revealed
the characteristics of Mary. There
was nothing for ornament, but there
was much for practical convenience
and comfort. It was only a cottage,
but its few rooms were wide and airy
and provided with the best of modern
improvements that represented utility.
Naturally, Mary was proud of hot
house and much interested In its con
struction, but outwardly her mind
was given to the home she was about
to leave. As the day for her marriage
drew near, instead of being occupied
with her own affairs, It was those of
the family she seined to hold In greater
consideration. She went about the
house from garret to basement, set
ting It In order. She used every effort
to find some one to take her place, and
failing in this, she left as little as pos
sible to be done after her departure.
To be sure, the plan for her wedding
did not require much time for thought,
since it was exceedingly simple and
bare of pretentious detail. She was
to get up early In the morning, put on
the brown silk gown she had selected
to be married in, and bo driven to
church for the ceremony. That was
all.
The church was but the distance of
a block away, and It was only in this
Instance that Mary relaxed her prac
ticality. She wanted to drive there
in a carriage. And then came out the
sole bit of romance she had associated
with her wedding.
One of the stables In the town
where she lived owned a handsomely
appointed carriage, which, when It
was in service, was drawn by two
showy sorrel horses with long white
tails and manes. It was a spectacuiar
sort of turnout, kept sacred to state
occasions. To ride in this on her wed
ding morning was Mary's heart's de
sire. "I always wanted to ride behind
those white-tailed horses," she con
fessed, blushing a little at what she
feared was foolishness; "I think
they're awfully stylish, and that hack
Is Just grand!"
To glimpse this touch of unsuspect
ed romance In Mary's nature was a
Joy to the family and she was encour
aged in her longing for this bit of
purple.
"Did you tell Mr. Elwln you wanted
the carriage with the sorrel horses?"
she was asked.
Ordinarily Mary's young man was
spoken of as Him or He, but this was
a matter of unusual moment.
"Yes," Mary answered, "he Just sort
of laughed and said he bated to ask
for anything apcclnl, but he'd tell them
to send tlio best they had. I do hopo
they'll send those white-tailed horses
nnd that grand hack," she said, wist
fully.
The June sun shone graciously on ;
the morning of Mary's wedding day. ,
She was up at 5 o'clock, and when
she was dressed In the crisp newness
of her brown silk gown "that would
do for best a long time," she was neat
and trim, and pretty, too, with the
pink color in her cheeks which ex
citement hnd painted there.
The member of the family, posted
nt the windows when It e.uno time
for Him nnd the carriage, were sin
cerely glad when the whlte-tnlled sor
rels, In glittering harness, drawing tho
shining "hack," came dashing up to
tho door. There was a smile of In
effable content on Mary's face when
she took her place In the carriage, and
tho smile was still there when she
leaned out to wave good-by to those
who were watching.
They drove to the church, tho long
way round, and when the marriage
ceremony was over, they drove to the
home of one of Ills relatives, tumble
to attend tho wedding. Then they
drove to their own home, and It was
to Mary as a royal progress, since
she was riding In the "grand hack,"
drawn by tho white-tailed sorrels.
Mary takes married life calmly and
Is as practical as ever. She keeps her
home In Immaculate neatness and pre
pares Ills meals with unfailing regu
larity. She talks of canning fruit and
making preserves and of the things
she shall buy for their home when
they have the mono'. Now, It is
plainly and scantily furnished. Ap
parently Mary has no thought for use
less decoration, but somehow, some
time, that touch of romance in Mary's
nature is going to reveal Itself in an
unlooked for way again. Toledo
Blade.
WHERE HENS ARE RENTED.
lictiiurkublc liuliiHtry FlourlshcH In
Sacramento Valley.
You may have hoard of tho May
wood colony in California. It was
founded by Warren N. Woodson, who
Is still its proprietor, and is situated
in the Sacramento valley, north of the
city of Sacramento, anil on the line of
the Southern Pacific Uailroad that
runs between San Francisco and Port
land, according to Leslie's Weekly. In
this colony and the town of Corning,
which is Its center, ,',000 people nro
living among orchards and vineyards
that cover 50,000 acres of land, and
on which are more than 1,000,000 fruit
trees peaches, pears, oranges, apri
cots, prunes, llgs, almonds, olives and
others. The Maywood poultry farm,
the organization which is conducting
tho hon-rentlng enterprise, is one of
the features of the Maywood colony.
This farm has only recently begun
operations and It now owns absolutely
10,000 hens. This number Is to be in
creased until there are 100,000, making
this by far the largest poultry farm In
the world. All the birds of the farm
are pure-blood Leghorns, with white
feathers and vivid combs, and they are
the "white slaves" of the colony. Tho
farm rents these hens in lots of ."00
or 1,000, or In multiples of 1,000, to the
colonists, under conditions which make
It possible for the new arrival at May
wood to begin at once to receive a reg
ular Income from the chickens which
belong to the farm, the amount of the
income depending upon the number ot
hens rented. Tho hens are never sold,
only leased for a term of two years.
They are then returned to tho farm,
fattened and sent to market as "fowl."
To Illustrate the method of proce
dure, I will take the Instance of a
Brooklyn lawyer who not long ago
Joined tho Maywood colony at Corn
ing. He first bought for ?."00 one of
the ten-acre lots which are a part of
the r00-acro tract Immediately adjoin
ing the breeding houses of the poultry
farm, this tract being held by Proprie
tor Woodson for new settlers. Having
established himself, the new colonist
compiled with the first condition Im
posed by the poultry concern. Follow
ing specification laid down by the or
ganization to insure comfort, conve
nience and sanitation for the hens, the
Brooklyn man built tour Hon houses.
Then he rentod 1,000 hens, each hen
house holding 2."i0 birds. In California,
where there are no winters, hens lay
all the year round, although they aro
most prolific in the spring. The new
colonist at once begun to get results
from the hens. Every day he sells the
fresh eggs, through a selling system
which Is a part of the general plan of
the farm. The rent which he pays for
the laying leghorns is -1 cents out of
each dozen eggs which lie sells. Ills
experience shows that each' hen will
earn, net, $1 a year, so that his profit
for the thousand averages 1,000.
Aside from this, his ten-acre tract Is
being planted in fruit and vegetables,
the latter sustaining him and his fam
ily; the former developing into an in-come-pi'oduclng
proposition wjthln a
few years.
We would hate to be a retail grocer,
and know every time the telephone
rings that It Is n woman.
Tho Mysterious Man never turns out
to be n good man.
NEW FRATERNAL HOME.
Battlement In New Mexico for tlto Cure
of I.uuir AUcctlonH.
Six miles west of Las Vegas, N. M.
In the IUo Oalllnas canyon, known for
merly as Las Vegas Hot Springs,
there Is now In full operation a frater
nal city, tho scope and objects of
which are unique. Tho Idea Is to pro
vide, without thought of profit, open
air settlements for tho euro of tuber
culosis and allied affections, at which
the patients may reap the benefits of
the climate and of scientific treatment.
The foundation stone of Fraternal
City Is co-operation. By enlisting the
nld of the patients and furnishing
them with work which will not tax
Tilt-: MONTKt MA llO'IlX.
ihcir strength and of a character to
aid them In their recovery, tho pro
moters of the Institution expect to
make it possible for all to take advan
tage of the scheme.
Las Vegas lias long been tho center
of New Mexico's consumptive colony
and fntnouB for Its hot springs, which,
with the beautiful new Montezuma
hotel, are the gift of a railroad to tho
new enterprise.
Eleven thousand acres of land have
been turned over to tho city, and with-
TENT CAMPS IN
In a radius of ten miles from the hotel
every temperature from summer's heat
to winter's cold may be found and
every altitude necessary in the cure
of tho "white plague."
The Montezuma hotel will be the
headquarters of the patients. It Is a
beautiful building four stories In
height, erected three years ago, and
has .'JoO well appointed rooms, ample
hospital accommodations, with liberal
provisions for Indoor recreation. The
principal feature of the city, however,
Is to bo the camp life.
Physicians will determine for each
individual case what altitudes and
what work and recreation a patient
requires for the speediest cure. Then
he will be assigned to one of the many
camps which start at a height of 0,000
feet above the sea and run up to 0,000.
The hotel Is also surrounded by a fully
equipped dairy, a chicken ranch, a bath
house, a modern club house, a casino
with stage and scenery, a livery sta
ble and cattle barn ami waterworks of
a total value of $1, 000,000.
STRANGER THAN FICTION.
Triumphs of Science AHtonml the
Shade of JuIch Verne.
A phosphorescent cloud floated slow
ly Into tho editor's room last night,
hovered over the big leather arm chair
and settled there. Gradually the half
luminous mass took shape a man's
shape, says a writer in the New York
World.
Jules Verne sat there.
"Graciously It has been permitted
me to revisit the earth on this memo
rable day," ho began, In a calm, sonor
ous volco. "One of my rewards In tho
beatific state that I enjoy Is liberty to
study, from time to time, those tri
umphs of latter-day sciences which aro
stranger than all tho Imaginings of
my fiction.
"Before this I have tried to grasp
the wonders and possibilities of wire
less telegraphy, of radium, of tho X
rays, of liquid air. To-day I hastened
to New York, because, of all places In
this particular world, It possessed the
deepest Interest for me.
"I foreshadowed man's conquest of
tho air In 'Five Weeks in a Balloon'
and In tho 'Cloud Clipper.' To-day in
airship was floating far above your
loftiest housetops an nerlnl craft un
der Its navigator's perfect control.
"In 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Un
der tho Sea' I described tho fantastic
performances of a submarine boat. To
day tho Plunger Is steaming below
your near-by waters.
"To-day, too, I hnvo seen tho newly
Invented periscope, which enables
those In n submerged vessel to see tho
whole horizon for miles around and
which at tho snmo time pictures tho
ontiro surface of the water and every
thing above It. And, more wondrous
still, I havo examined, all unknown
to tho man whoso mind created It, tho
tho fluorescent searchlight, which will
light up the ocean's profoundest
depths, and which, as a surface search
light, will light up tho sea's surfneo
for two miles around, Itself remaining
Invisible.
"It needs no prophet now to foretell
that soon will come tho ttmo when
man will enter Into possession of a
realm beneath the waters a thousand
times more vast than all the conti
nents together," exclaimed tho volco
of Jules Verne, enthusiastically. "Tho
bottom of the ocean will havo Its ex
plorers, Its tragedies, Its long history
of conquest and failure. Millionaires
will abandon their surfneo yachts for
yachts that can plunge and will ex
plore the depths onco forbidden. In
stead of going after big game to India,
tho hunter will pursue tho ferocious
Inhabitants of the deep In coral Jun
gles. Men will fight for tho ocean
cavern they have discovered as they
do now for their gold placers.
"Nations will presently annex por
tions of tho sea bottoms as they havo
done with savage Islands and territo
ries, and they will locate and operato
their submarine mines of coal and
metals. New lines of business, new
Industries, new commerce will spring
up to exploit the products of tho
ocean.
"And man's dominion of the air will
yield him "
The luminous shndo remained silent
for an Instant, then spoke again:
"You will misunderstand me. I am
giving you the false Idea that In tho
flesh I was vain of the fulfillment of
my so-called prophecies. It will sur
prise you, perhaps, to learn that I did
not take especial pride In having writ
ten of the motor car, In 'Tho Steam
House,' of the submarine boat and tha
navigable airship before they became
actual facts; of the astounding (level-
FUATEUNAL CITY.
opment of trusts and philanthropy In
the 'Five Hundred Millions of tho Be
gum.' "When I write about them ns reali
ties these things were half-dlscoverlos
already. 1 simply made fiction out of
what became ulterior fact, and my ob
ject in so doing was not to prophesy,
but to disseminate, as widely as could
be, such knowledge as was given me."
The volco was silent; tho phosphores
cent specter grew dim, dimmer van
ished. OUT OF THE PAST.
Ancient City of Annapolis Attrncts by
ltn MellowncHM.
Annapolis Is a city for which wo
should thank "whatever gods there
be," for It proves conclusively that
upon occasion one of our cities can
stop growing and get ripe..
Though It Is more than 2."0 years
old, Its population Is only about 8,000
and It doesn't possess n street car lino
a fact that one records reluctantly
lest some enterprising promotor Imme
diately approach the authorities upon
the subject of a franchise.
Far back In the past, ships from all
parts of ..iO world lay at anchor In
Its harbor. To-day Its charm lies In
Its mellowness, ion feel that It was
picked long ago and placed on theso
quiet shores to absorb the sunshine of
tho years. Or, to quote Dan
iel Clapsaddle Carvel "Tho lively
capital that onco reflected tho wit and
fashion of Europe has fallen into do
cay, the silent streets no more echo
with tho nimble of coaches and gay
chariots and grass grows where busy
merchants trod. Stately ballrooms
where beauty once reigned nro cold
and empty and mildewed, nnd halls
where laughter rang are silent. Tlmo
was when every wide-throated chim
ney put forth Its cloud of smoko,
when every andiron held its gonorous
log andirons which aro now gono to
decorate Mr. Centennial's homo In
New York, or lie with a tag in tho
window of some curio shop. Four
Track News.
Hit Own Petard.
At last thero arose In tho halls of
legislation a statesman who seemed
to have something like a good Idea.
He Introduced u bill providing a se
vere punishment for anyono yho agi
tated fool legislation, such as tnxlna.
bnchelors, abolishing tips, regulating
the slzo of women's hats and similar
freak laws.
Whereupon tho authors of bills tc
tax bachelors, pouslon old maids, com
pel womon to wear divided skirts and
to alight from street cars properly,
prohibiting lovomaklng in parks, nnd
so forth, denounced him as a threo-ply
Idiot and a trampler upon the Inher
ent rights of his fellow men. Judge,