1 t - '
I , : I
KINQ CORN.
KJg Corn Is a Jolly old fellow,
' And rules with a provident hand;
His train cornea In autumn ao mellow.
Laden down with rich stores for the land
Els garments are golden,
His dynasty olden.
His scepter a magical wand.
This king has his thousands of cattle,
None better the world ever knew,
And he makes the coin JiDgle and rattle,
And piles up a billion or two.
When to market he goes.
At the first winter snows.
With the herds that on his farm grew.
King Corn feeds all of the nations.
The richest and poorest and all;
He sends them each year sucn rich rations,
When harrest comes on in the fall.
That he makes them reloloe.
To receive each the choice
, Of this king's richest gifts at their oalL
When potatoes are short ia the island.
The Emerald Isle of the sea.
When the drought brings distress to the rye
land. And Russia sends out a sad plea.
His ships, heavy laaen.
O'er the billows do hasten
With food for the starring, you see.
Ton may talk of King Cotton's dominion,
And boast of his empire so great;
But here is our bonest opinion. y
Which we are not modest to state,
That Cotton Is vassal.
And lives in a castie,
Just within old King Corn's palace gate.
E. A. Whltwam, in Farmer's Voice.
EPISODE IN COLORADO.
Br MARY A. WINSTON".
Copyright, ISM, by the Author.
T was a chilly
evening in early
fall We all sat
around our rud
dy camp fil e
and reveled in
its warmth. My
friend, Amasa
Weatherjee,
and I were
young geolo
gists, who were
spending' some
weeks at a mining-
camp in
Colorado, in the pursuit of our chosen
profession.
Dow well I remember that night!
The rough miners sat and smoked their
abort cutty pipes in stolid, speechless
content; their wild unkempt beards
and great arms, from which the red
flannel shirt sleeves had been rolled
back, making them look like a species
of grotesque giant in the flickering fire
light. Those of us who formed a little group
by ourselves, with the superintendent
of the mine for our center, laughed and
talked gayly to while away the long,
tedious, evening hours. Each one con
sidered it his duty, from time to time,
to add his mite to the general merry
naking. and would relate some amus
ing or thrilling anecdote. All except
one; for my companion, Amasa Weath
erlee, at gloomily and silently with
his arms folded and his eyes fixed on
the fire. Sow, Amasa was usually the
gayest of the gay, and there was not a
man at Silver Lock camp who could
tell a better story than he. He was a
handsome fellow, of noble physique
and of a healthy, sunny aspect in gen
eral. The curly hair, that had grown
long in the wilderness and lay loosely
on his flannel shirt collar, was golden
in hue, and his cheeks dimpled like a
girl's when he smiled.
We had rallied Amasa several times
on his unusual silence, when finally he
raised his head and spoke:
"Well, friends, I suppose I must son
tribute my share to the evening's en
tertainment. So I am going to tell you
a curious story:
"Years ago, when I was a little child,
I had a strange dream. I seemed to
stand alone on a great, fiat waste
desert which stretched away in in
finite dreariness and monotony to the
banks of a river, shining like silver in
the distance. As I stood in the midst
of the desert and gazed away toward
this river, I saw something, so small
that it looked like a mere, tiny 6peck,
leap out of the water and begin run
ning across the desolate moor in my
TO FOLLOW AMASA'S RETREATIKS FORM.
-direction. On approaching, tnia rapidly-moving
speck took the shape to my
eyes of an exclamation point which
ever grew larger and larger till it was
the size of a man. I seamed rooted to
the spot, and, spellbound, watched the
curious phas-tom's swift advance.
When it reacSied me, it uttered a pe
culiar, mocking, blood-curdling Ila!
Ha! and thee leaped upon me stud
throttled me.
I .cannot describe to you the horror
of that dream to be murdered by an
-exclaciation poiet! It sounds too ab
surd.
"Gentlemen," continued Amasa, 1
emnly, -"doubtless you are wondering
why nnc how I reelect so clearly this
Aightuare of my childish years. The
reason la simple enough. I never have
vjeen permitted to forget it. For since
then I hate had thatame dream, with
th very sime detail ia every case and
the same conclusion again and again,
I have grown to manhood. It has
haunted my life. Last night I dreamed
Ik again and to-day, as I was riding to
D J heard with my waking senses
ttvat same horrible mocking 'Ha! liar
of the dream
A mass's voice sank away to a mourn
ful whisper. The weight of a terrible
apprehension seemed to be pressing
Toim down. And yet it was nothing but
the shadow of a dream that was
loading his bright spirit.
Intangible and fantastic as my pM
friend's trouble seemed to mo, yet It
pained me to see that horror-stricken
look in his honest eyes. I turned away
from the great camp-fire that I might
not see that look, and in doing so I
faced the long irregular line of the
"barracks" or miners quarters, with
the small cabins of the superintendent
and his assistants nestling near. There
was a light in the superintendent's
cabin. Just as Amasa finished speaking a
woman's face appeared at the open win
dow of this cabin. Her features were
silhouetted against the outside black
ness of the night for an instant. With
a start, I realized that she was gazing
at Amasa's dejected figure with the
most baneful expression of fiendish
and savage revenge. Appearing as she
did, at the end of that strange narra
tive of his, this woman seemed to me
in a flash to be the evil spirit of fate
brooding over his destiny.
It was Mahala, the superintendent's
beautiful young Mexican wife.
Once I had seen her offer Amasa a
crimson rose whjch she plucked from
her black hair, but Amasa, who was in
po mind to set evil tongues to wagging,
had said, curtly:
"Madame, no one but your husband
is worthy of such gifts from your fair
hand."
Mahala dropped her eyes, and when
she raised them to follow Amasa's re
treating form the amorous look in
them had changed to one of bitter,
scorching hate. It made me shudder
to behold the counterpart of that look
on the night of Amasa's story. It was
said that Mahala had Indian blood in
aer veins, and I believed it.
"Mr. Weatherlee, have yon ever
heard an Indian war whoop?"
It was the superintendent. Col.
Altruz, who spoke. lie was a Spanish
Mexican, but had served in the frontier
warfare of the 6tates.
"Xo," said Amasa; "I am a New
Englander, born and bred, and know
very little about Indians outside of
story book tales of them."
"Well," resumed the colonel, "the
cry of the dream you describe resem
bles exactly an Indian war whoop. I
am inclined to think there must be
Apaches in our neighborhood. I shall
send a search party out in the morning
and we shall probably frighten the red
devils off."
The superintendent laid his hand
kindly on Amasa's shoulder:
"Come, Mr. Weatherlee, cheer up;
it's a coincidence, of course. But
dreams are queer things, and often
find strange fulfillments in real life. X
GALLOPED IXTO THE CAMP RIDERLESS.
wouldn't dwell upon that one of yours
any longer if I were you."
We are such stuff as dreams are made of.
And our little life is rounded with a sleep."
quoted some one lightly, and the group
broke up for the night.
At daybreak the next morning, the
search party went out to discover the
whereabouts of the Indians in our
vicinity, but the men came back and re
ported that they found no trace of the
savages.
At noon, Amasa, evidently anxious to
show that he had overcome his weak
ness of the night before, rode out of
camp and shouted back that he was
going to D for the inaiL The
superintendent stood at his cabin door.
"Are you armed, Mr. Weatherlee?"
he asked as Amasa went by.
The latter shook his head: "My re
volver is out of order. But I have never
had any use for a weapon here in the
desert"
The superintendent handed over his
pistoL
"Better take that. Wait a bit." He
went into the cabin but presently re
appeared. "I can't find my cartridges,
and my wife Is out, or she could tell me
where she has laid them. But there is
a ball or two already there. It won't
be any harm to have it along.
Amasa thanked him and rode away.
That evening his horse galloped into
the camp riderless. We found Amasa
five miles away in the desert. He lay
on his back. He had been shot through
the chest and then strangled to death.
"The dream! the dream!" whispered
the awe-stricken men.
But I looked into Mahala's impassive
face, so pale for all its swarthy beau
ty, and I knew how the dream had
found its fulfillment.
THE OLD LADY GOT THE SEAT.
Bow a Selfish Girl's Attempt to Steal
March on a Mis Failed.
The seats of the car were filled and
a number of passengers were standing
up as the driver encouraged his tired
horses to push their uneven way along
Van Buren street. A well-dressed man of
middle age with a weary look upon
his striking face cast bis eyes about,
and when they fell upon an elderly
woman carrying a large bundle he
arose slowly and stretched his arm for
ward to touch her shoulder. A spruce
appearing damsel scarcely out of her
teens, one of the sort who looks out
for No. 1 under all conditions, had an
observant eye for the Mian's move
ments and quickly stole forward with
the full mental purpose of stealing a
march ob the old lady. But the middle-aged
man had not passed through
life without some study of youthful
feminine manners on streetcars, and
when she brought up in a sitting pos
ture it was plump upon his knees. The
shoek was so great that she was pro
jected so far forward before her recov
ery that the old lady was comfortably
resting In the designated place, while
the middle-aged man said, audibly:
"These seats were not intended to carry
double." Chicago Tribune.
The Chinese cultiv ate dwarf oak a
and pines, perfect trees in every par
ticular, bat from six inches to a foot
hi gh. The result is attained by root
pruning.
A MALAGASY ANT'S NEST.
The Votry Peculiar to the Great Forest of
Mwdagascar.
All who have journeyed through
the great forest must have frequently
noticed large black or dark-brown
balls attached to the higher branches
of trees, which are called "votry."
They are generally a little larger than
a football, but occasionally attain the
dimensions of a beehive. These are
ants' nests. If you take one down and
examine it (a rather ticklish business),
you will find that it consists of a
tough substance exactly resembling
dry cowdung. This, however, is not
to be found in the depths of the for
est, and is, therefore, not the material
of which it is made; it is composed of
earth mixed with vegetable fiber, but
so manipulated as to yield a stiff
parchmentlike substance. On the outer
surface are numerous entrances into
the interior.
Now, if you can find it in your heart
to be so ruthless and cruel, take a
knife and cut a vertical section through
the nest; you will discover that it is
made up of more or less irregular con
centric galleries, the floors of which
are about as thick as a shilling and
about a quarter of an inch apart.
Each of these floors, or layers, is sup
ported by a number of pillars rising
from the one immediately below it.
Near the surface of the nest a number
of ants may be seen, but in the center
there is a perfect swarm of them, all
doubtless wondering what can have
caused such a terrible catastrophe.
But they waste not a moment of time
in idle speculation. See! they are all
as bustling and as busy as they can be,
and their first thought is to save their
helpless young and their guests. For
guests, indeed, they have.
If you carefully examine the ants
you will see one here and there with a
very minute red insect on its back, evi
dently intent, even at the risk of its
own life, on securing the safety of its
little guest. Tnis insect, placed under
a magnifying lens, turns out to be a
beetle. What purpose it serves in the
economy of the nest I have never been
able to make out. Attached to the
branch or twigs that pass right through
the nest there are little leathery caps,
which contain eggs and small grubs.
Of what are these the larvte? I know
not. If someone gifted with more than
ordinary patience could study these
"votry" and the life of their Inmates,
the result would, I am sure, prove of
interest. Cornhill Magazine.
COLOR SENSATIONS.
Carious Effects Secored by the Solar
hpectram.
The three primary color sensations
are considered to be red, green and
violet. Certain mixtures of violet and
green produce a blue; red and green
also give a yellow. But it is important
to observe that these are primary color
sensations, and not primary colors,
though the expression "lights of
primary colors" is admissble. For it
is commonly imagined that the blue
and yellow mixed in certain propor
tions produce various kinds of green.
If yellow and blue pigment be mixed
together with water, the green color
produced is not a mixture of blue and
yellow colors. It is the one col
or which is not freely absorbed
either by the yellow or by the blue
pigment. The yellow pigment re
moves the greater part of the blue, in
digo and violet rat's; the blue pigment
removes the greater part of the red,
orange, and yellow. Thus the light
that finally escapes is mainly green.
It is curious to notice, too, that the
sunlight passing through glass of one
color is not enly of that color. What
is called the ordinary solar spectrum
is produced by allowing a ray of sun
light to enter a narrow slit and pass
through one or more prisms. If a bit
of red glass be held over the slit the
whole length of the spectrum is not red
dened; there is no color in the spectrum
of the glass when that color does not
exist in the ordinary (rainbow) spec
trum. If the red glass be pretty pure,
only red and a little orange are visi
ble in the spectrum; all the rest is cut
away. Wonderful is it also that the
colors seen in natural objects are
chiefly residuals left after internal ab
sorption. A tulip with green leaves .can only
be seen in pure light or in the cor
responding colors of the 6pectrum. If
it is placed in the red band of the
spectrum the flower shines brilliantly
red, while the leaves shine dull red,
not green. If moved to any other
band of the spectrum the red petals
beeome black and the green alters
much. Longman's Magazine.
Relics of Early Philadelphia.
James T. Evidge, of the Quaker city,
has been an indefatigable collector of
relics of Philadelphia's early history,
and his cabinets contain one of the
most curious personal collections to be
seen. He ha6 a chip from the first mill
stone in the United States, used on
Kitchen street, Wissahickon: a funny
old lamp made in Germantown one
hundred years ago, resembling a com
bined tea kittle and coal scuttle; a
piece of Franklin's first lightning-rod;
shilling scrip, printed in 1760 by Frank
lin and Hall on Rittenhouse paper; a
portion of the old fence still standing
on the battlefield of Germantown,
riddled with bullets; part of the Elm
tree that stood on the Chew estate;
rusty cannon balls and bullets picked
up there, and a host of similar inter
esting mementoes of the colonial and
revolutionary days. Pittsburgh Chronicle-Telegraph.
Remote.
Papa What are George's prospects.
Mabel His uncle thinks he is pro
posing to a rich widow. Puck.
Why is Jack such a favorite
among the ladies? He is neither rich
oor handsome." "Oh, but he never at
tempts to guess their ages." Phila
delphia Record.
"Do yon believe that story that
Bait jug caught only half a dozen fi6h?"
Mrs. Baitjug "Yes; he told me him
self that it was only sixty.'
PERSONAL AND LITERARY.
Miss Edna Dean Proctor, poetess,
wants to be known as the apostle of
maize as the national flower. She
considers Indian corn as being the
most distinctively American product.
The oldest mathematical book in
the world is called the "Papyrua
Rhind." It is in manuscript, of course,
and was written by one Ahmes, an
Egyptian, who lived in the year 2000
B. C. The book is now in the "British
museum.
Samuel Minturn reck, the "poet
laureate" of Alabama, lives in a quaint
home on the outskirts of Tuscaloosa.
He is handsome, genial and brilliant,
a medical graduate, though he does
not practice, a good pianist, a fine
singer, and an entertaining conversa
tionalist. Judge A. B. Norton, the old gentle
man with unshorn hair and beard,
carrying a cane given him by Henry
Clay, who has been seen at all repub
lican national conventions, died at
Dallas, Tex., recently. He made a vow,
in 1M4, not to have his 'hair cut till
Clay was elected president, and paid no
toll to barbers for the last odd fifty
years.
Here is another evidence of the re
gard in which the lady who figures un
der another name in "Dodo" has been
held by her countrymen. The dedica
tion of the late John Addington Sy
mond's "Essays Speculative and Sug
gestive," runs as follows: "To Miss
Margot Tennant, in memory of long,
dark winter nights at Davos, made
luminous by witty conversation."
The late Chief-Justice Stone of Al
abama was held in high esteem as a
man, as well as in great repute as a
jurist. He served on the bench for
more than fifty years, in that time de
ciding more than two thousand four
hundred cases. Gov. Jones, in an
nouncing his death, said: "No greater
or purer man ever lived or died in Ala
bama, and none whose death was a
greater calamity."
May Brooklyn's squandered savings
were a contributary cause to three sui
cides, those of the young woman her
self, of F. A. Lovecraft and of a young
Hebrew who was their partner in a
luckless business enterprise. The young
Hebrew had the business knowledge
needed for the undertaking, and he
was reputed holiest and industrious,
but when he saw the venture must be
a failure he threw himself beneath the
wheels of a train.
Mrs. Lyda Hoyt Farmer, author
of "A Knight of Faith," "A Short His
tory of the French Revolution," "The
Life of La Fayette," etc., and editor of
"What America Owes to Women," has
been the recipient of a note of thanks
from Queen Victoria, to whom Mrs.
Farmer recently presented a copy of
the beautiful white and gold exposi
tion edition of the well-known work:
"The National Exposition Souvenir:
What America Owes to Women."
Pietro Sbarbaro, once a member of
parliament and one of the most remark
able men in Italy, died a few days ago
in the top storj of a Roman tenement
house. The king paid his funeral ex
penses. Before he was twenty years
old he was famous as an authority on
political and economic subjects. In
1666 he fought for the freedom of Lom
bard y. In 1S0 he became professor
of political science and the philosophy
of law at Modena, His star began to
descend soon afterward on account of
the grave and uncalled-for attacks
which he made on public men. He got
the idea that it was his duty to tell the
world everything unworthy which he
could learn of men in public life. He
spent many years in prison on this ac
count, lost the places which he had
filled with honor, and died "the 'best
hated man in Italv."
HUMOROUS.
Naturally when a girl goes to work
out she hates to stay in. Elmira Ga
zette. Mabel "With what verses are you
the most familiar?" Poet "Reverses."
N. Y. World.
Haverly "They say old Soak has
water on the brain." Austen "Then
he must have a hole on the top of his
head." Life.
Bare an the naked branches of dead tress.
Whose chilly fingers grope to leaden skies;
So bare of worthy deeds the life that sees
Distress, and will not sympathize.
Author (whose new play is beinf,
hissed by the whole audience)
"Heavens! I shall have to hiss too or
they will find out that I am the au
thor." Fliegende Blatter.
Berliner "This scenery is really
grand." Native "But you have
grander views near Berlin." "No, in
deed!" "I am afraid you are not a
Berliner." Fliegende Blatter.
"Cholly has such a habit of telling
all he knows," said one girL "Yes,
replied the other, "but it wouldn't be
so bad if he would only make a point
of knowing all he tells " Washington
Star.
Young Mother "Baby is some
what cross to-day. He is teething."
Bachelor (in great awe of the mite of
humanity) "And when do you expect
him to commence er hairing?"
Vogue.
May "Does Charlie always come
at eight and go at eleven?" Helen
"Yes, he has for months. How strange!
I don't see how you have time to say a
word besides good night." Inter
Ocean. Ragged Richard (insinuatingly)
"Say, mister, have yer got eny sugges
tions ter make ter a feller w'at ain't
able ter raise er dime ter git shaved
with?" Grnmple (passing on) "Yes;
raise whiskers." Buffalo Courier.
"Bangs' son has a wonderful influ
ence over him. Bangs goes to church
regularly now." "How did he persuade
his father?" "Well, you see he's only
three months old, and it was either go
to church or take care of the baby."
A man, reduced to desperation
through his debts, flung himself into a
river. A kind-hearted individual res
cued him, and said: "You owe me
your life." The would-be suicide, heav
ing a sigh "Here's a nice how-d'ye-do
another dsbU" La Tribuna.
FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
THE LITTLE KITE.
I never can do It," the little kite said.
As he looked at the others high over his bead;
I know I should fall U I tried to fly."
" Try," sal the big kite; "only try!
Or I fear you never will learn at all."
But the little kite said: "I'm afraid m fall
The big kite nodded: "Ah. well, good-by;
I'm on," and he rose toward the tranquil sky.
Then the little kite's paper stirred at the
sight.
And trembling ha shook himself free for
filght
First whirling and frightened, then o raver
grown.
Up, up he rose through the air alone.
Till tho big kite, looking down, could see
The little one rising steadily.
Then how the little one thrilled with pride.
As he sailed with the big kite, side by side!
While far below he could see the ground.
And the boys like small spots moving round.
They rested high la the aulet air.
And only the birds and clouds were there.
"On! how happy I am!" the little kite cried;
And all because I was brave, and tried."
Katharine Pyle, in St Nicholas.
IN THE QUICKSAND.
Bow a Hoy's Life Was Saved Through
His Pony's Devotion.
At ten years of age the human being
cannot depend on h'.mself to obey or
ders, or to get himself out of a scrape;
at least Fred Mackleroy could not.
But an animal, a pony, say, at three
years of age has all his wits about
him: at least Fled Mackleroy's pony
had.
A favorite canter with Fred was the
five-mile road leading to Beaver Dams
lake; the road was wide, hard, smooth
and well shaded, and the lake was
a fairy sheet of water full of green
islands. There was one restriction on
this ride; Fred was never to take the
short cut, the bridle path through the
woods.
But one day, out of very perversity
and idleness, he reined Star into the
path and rode in under the birches
and pines, and In two minutes he was
lost to sight.
As he rode on he spoke aloud often,
contemptuously: "I can see no reason
why I should not ride this bridle path!"
After riding a mile perhaps, all the
time in hearing of the steam thresher
in his father's wheat field, he dis
mounted and threw himself down un
der a cool pine for a rest. Bidding
Star to stand there, after a few mo
ments he strolled away down into a
sunny glade a piece of low ground
with bright green sod, through the
middle of which ran a sluggish stream
with lilies growing in it.
He ran forward to gather the flow
ers, and in a moment found himself
kicking about in a bog, and in a min
ute more felt himself sinking, and at
the same instant remembered he had
been told there was a quagmire in
those woods. The spot was a bit of
marsh and quicksand and concealed by
the rich growth of grass. Many an
imals have been mired there, and it
was said that more than one hunter
had lost his life in the bog.
Fred stopped short, and shouted.
Stopped short? Yes, he did, for his
legs weTe now firmly grasped by the
sucking quicksands. There was a hor-
P-
1 T&"
m
FRED TRIED TO CATCH THE BRIDLE.
rible feeling all over his body of being
drawn downward. His eyes stood out
of their sockets. His veins were fit to
threw himself over on his back
as far as he could and tried to raise
one of his legs, nis instinct was to
fight for his legs, to hold them by main
force against going in further. But
who ever fought a quicksand with any
success?
He wept and struggled and shouted,
but aU in vain. There was nothing to
do but die, though so near home he
could hear the steam thresher and
now and then the voices of the men!
Oh! it was maddening.
Suddenly he heard Star's familiar
neigh. There stood the dear little fel
low at the edge of the morass, looking
at his master and whinnying pitifully.
"Oh. Star! Star!" Fred called, "can't
you get somebody to come?"
With a snort and a neigh the little
pony came toward him, picking his
way and finding footholds where the
boy had missed them.
When he had come near enough Fred
tried to catch hjs bridle, but he was
too weak to reach up so far.
Then the wise creature took matters
nnder his own direction, ne whirled
around so that his long tail swept
right over the boy's head. With a cry
of joy the poor fellow caught hold of
his strong support, and then with a
sudden quick and powerful jerk Star
drew him out.
The boy had just strength enough
left to cling tight until he was dragged
to safe ground. Then he let go and
fainted.
In the course of the forenoon the
pony's persistent neighings were
heard by some one in the wheat field,
and Fred was found and taken home.
However the boy may feel about the
quagmire, there is no rein or bit strong
enough to turn the pony aside into
that bridle path. E. A. Mathews, in
St. Louis Republic.
An Experienced Traveler.
Husband (at railway station) Good
by. Now, are yri sure yon have every
thing? Wife Y-e-s; I believe so. Mercy! I
forgot the molasses candy. Run and
get some for the baby, quick.
"Won't he keep quiet without mo
lasses candy?"
'Of Pmrsp- nt T .r n.l..
i i - w iua&o aurc
J of having & seat to myself." Good
GKANDMA'S STORY.
She Tell Little Ada About Her First At
tendance at School.
"Grandma," said little Ada. "mnm
ma says I must go to school next week,
anvl I don't want to go. Do you think
such a little girl as I am ought to go to
school? Did you go, grandma, whn
yon were so little?"
Grandma thought a minute, then she
smiled and said: "I was not as old ap
yon are the first day I went to schooL
I was not four. I remember it vry
welL"
"Dear grandma," said Ada, "please
tell me all about it."
"Well," said grandma, "I lived in the
country, and the school-house was half
a mile away. I had passed it often.
TT.Ll.IXO THE PTOKT.
when I was out riding, and knew the
way very well. One day in summer I
said to my mamma: 'May I go to school
to-day?" She said 'yes,' thinking I was
playing go-to-schooL So I began to get
ready. As 1 knew my sister took her
luncheon in a basket. I searched for a
basket to take mine in. I found quite
a large one, and then I went to the
pantry to find something to put in it.
I could not reach anything but a big
platter of boiled corned beef and pota
toes that were left there to get cold so
that they could be made into hash.
The beef did not suit my taste, but I
put all the potatoes into my bas
ket and put the cover on. Then
I put on an old straw hat that had
been my brother's. Little girls wore
sun-bonnets in those days, but I liked
this hat very much, and had trimmed
it myself by tying a pink ribbon aroun d
the crown. I wonder that no one saw
me making my preparations," said
grandma thoughtfully. "I should not
have been allowed to go if anyone had
teen me.
"Then I set out. Don, my big New
foundland dog who always went with
me everywhere out of doors went
with me. I remember how warm we
were, for the basket was heavy, and
how Don lolled and kept lying down,
and trying to make me go back by
starting off towards home alone, but
when I would not go with him he al
ways followed me.
"When we came to the schoolhoase
I pushed the door wide open (it was
open a little way) and went in. There
were ever so many boys and girls sit
ting on benches, and the teacher and
they all looked at me. My sister (she
was ten or twelve years old) thought
some one had brought me to the door'
and sent me in with the basket with
something nice for her luncheon. So
she was quite pleased and proud, and
took the CDver off the basket in such,
a way as to show as plain as she could,
to the gazing boys and girls what I
had brought. I remember well how
surprised and ashamed she looked
when she saw the potatoes, and the
boys and girls all laughed.
"The teacher hiughed, too, and asked
me who came with me. I said 'Don.
Then she said my sister might take me
Virmo nt ti fiAn Tlnn mn hnmp xvhn T
went into the schoolhouse.
"I sat on a bench beside mv sister.
and the boys and girls looked at me as
long as I was there. 'When I was go
ing home the teacher kissed me and
said: 'Good-by, little Runaway.'
"That was a long time ago," said
grandma, slowly. N. Y. World.
That Altered the Case.
Of the late French Senator Renaud,
the Kolnische Zeitung tells the follow
ing anecdote: When Renaud first
came as senator to Paris from his
hwme in the Pyrenees he engaged a
room at a hotel and paid a month's
rent one hundred and fifty francs
in advance. The proprietor asked him
if he would have a receipt.
"It is not necessary," replied
ment"
"Do you believe in God?" sneered the'
host.
"Most assuredly," replied Renaud,
"don't you?"
"Not I, monsieur.
"Ah." said the senator, "in that
case please make me out a receipt!"
Flardly Worth Mentioning.
A Yankee with some gift for brag
ging, as well as getting out of a cor
ner, was talking to an Englishman.
"We can lick you right smart," he
said. "We've alius done it, an' we
can do it again. At Lexington, Con
cord, Saratoga, Bunker Hill, an' lots of
those places we jest gave you fits."
"Yes," said the Englishman, "I do
remember those places. But them
was the little battle of White Plains
We rather beat you there."
"Well, you did," admitted the
Yankee. "I forgot all about that. I
shouldn't have thought of it if yon
hadn't a-spoke of it. But then, yot
see, at that battle the Americans some
how didn't seem to take any nterest
in the fight!"
Easiest Thing In the World.
There are explanations that don't
explain, as many people have discov
ered. A gentleman, talking with a
young lady, admitted that he had
failed to keep abreast of the scientific
progress of the age. "For instance,"
said he, "I don't understand how tho
incandescent light, now so extensively
used, is procured." "Oh, it is very sim
ple," said the lady, with the air of one
who knows it all. "You just turn e
button over the lamp and the light
appear at sneer