HELL CATE,
W:
;.r'-:
fe
©tef
f-O?
V*.
i ;
Jtfo .
lA,Wbm deep sunken roe fa of passion hldo
Beaoath tho troubled waters of my life!
warper than poisoned dart or keonest
knife.
They rend ana wrack my ships. Upon
the tide.
Bad aa with blood, my fairest hopes have
died.
My golden freights,forsaken inthestrlfo,
Unheeded lie and ovory wave is rlfo
With ruin, wrought by hate, and doubt,and
prlda.
God saw my need, and knew the remedy,
The mighty grief that could my hoart con
trol.
Bis touch electric, softly, tenderly,
Upon my quivering heart In pity stole.
One groat convulsion I Thou tho waves
swept froo
Along the deepened channel of m.v soul.
—Susan Marr Spalding.
The Actor's Story.
t *,j,
BV JOHN rOLlMAN.
CHATTER IX—Continuer
ajl "H'm! Mutiny!" ho growled; "but
■ 1 Uko the lad's spirit und begad, the
old beggar shall hnvo it hot!" So
|!k saying, he made his way to tho mnn
§1 agertal sanctum, whero ho gave IV11
: : lie's message to the autocrat' with
1. . Various verbal embellishments.
> • Old M-merely scrutehod his ear
- with his pen. and said: "Dear mo!
doar mo! a remarkable young man!
i, Do you think he means It?"
v’.‘ "1 don't think anything about It,
1 Sir; I'm quite sure of It.”
"I>onr me. dear mo. What timo
does the mall go. to-morrowP"
> , "Twelve o' clock. ’ ’
'» *‘Woll, well; como to mo in tho
10 morning at eleven. Meanwhile I'll
•loop on It"
Novtday, at half past olovoa Jam
/ leson v?as at the coach ollico with his
V - baggage, llo waited until ton tnln
’ Utoa to twelve; thon he booked for
London and paid his fare.
Twelve o'clock cama. Ho took his
i seat on the box beside tho driver, tho
guard blew bis horn, tho driver 1’our
if~ ished his whip; and was about to
‘‘ - etart when lo! down Leith Walk
f ■ came tho captain, puffing and blow
v log like a gampus. Waving his liat
‘ and his handkerchief, ho culled out
;*/ tStop! stop!”
fi'~ The driver pulled up exclaiming,
' '’What's the row nowP"
_ "Nothing," gasped the captain,
I. ' ’but you. sir. Mr. Jamlo.son. come
down. 1 want you!"
) , "Too late. captain. ” repltod Willie.
• "Drive on. Coachy.'1
^ "But I toll you it's all right!"
ivroared the cuptuin.
"Hamlet or uolhlng," said Jainio
v--- ton.
[:i. "Oh! Hamlet Othollcv Macboth—
*" . the whole lot of thorn; only como
dowa. *
IV ;. ’On your honor, sir?”
• . ‘On my honor as a gentleman!”
vV "All right!” and Willie sprung
!'■>" down liko a ".J-yenr-old." Seizing
bis carpot bag, ho spun over tv half
crown (almost tho lust ho had left) to
. the guard, and returned triumphantly
V., to tho theater, whore tho boys struck
•>. OH "See tho Couriering Horo
• * Cornea" to the Intense annoyance of
'! Old M-, who couldn't avoid hear
*v ' log this spontanuous outburst of
musical mutiny.
• 'The following Monday Jamieson
, opened In "Hamlot,” and was rc
ooivod with very great enthusiasm by
b crowded house. A call boforo tho
curtain was thon not so cheap an
V' ' honor as it U nowadays, and whQn at
,V tho end of tho play ho was callod for*
|.i ward ho was more than delighted.
», Just as he was about to muko his
V, os It a lady seated in the private box
;; to his right throw him a laurol
, Wreath, and disappeared as If by
*' magia Although he had barely time
• to catch a glimpse of her palo face
'• and flashing eyea he recognized the
;J mysterious lady of tho pony chaise at
Aberdeen. As soon as ho left tho
^ stage his qutek eyo detected a card
which was attached by a piece of
gibbon. On one side, these words
*■ Woro written in a bold, but feminine
g V hand: "You told mo once should I
over need a friend. I might roly on
you. 1 need one now.”
u On the other side was’engraved
i ' 'Alisa Flora McAllister,
' . i. Athol House; ”
Below was wrlttea
i "At home to-morrow from twelve
to ave." —■>.
: ' CHAPTER X.
f ‘ Athol House.
■ ’ The morrow's post brought Jacnlo
(A' ton a letter from Curly, describing
. his impressions of London—of the
i'.'v! theatre, the company, etc. Tho gen
■ , oral tone was elate and confident and
V/ he wound up by stating that his debut
was fixed for the following Monday,
and that he was to open as Doricouru
At noon Jamieson presented him-I
v Self at Athol House—one of those !
wonderful old places twelve or four- j
teen stories high, the like of which is
to be seen nowhere but in "Auld
;.A Reekie." Its historical memories
Ay. went back I don't know how long;
,T 1 * but the very room into which he was
shown had once been inhabited by
QA; the Recent Murray, afterward by
Ay " Cluverhousa. and the • great marquis
f; himself."
P A it was now in semi-darkness—the
blinds were all down. The atmos
v. phere was so gloomy and depressing
g'; that he couldn’t bear it. so he pulled
Ay up the curtains and let in the blessed
sunshine. Looking through the win
“ dow. he contemplated the wonderful
picture be.ore him. The valley smil
i tng at his feet, where now the rail
y ■ way runs; to the left the castle and
§A ■ the castle gardens; to his right Holy
Jv.; rood and Arthur's seat Nearer
y y stood the Calton Mill; a litt’.e to the
•Vy . left of that lay Leith, with the blue
s Eirth'beyond; right in front of him
Prince’s street and New Tuwn.
The Abbotsford monument which
3 had only recently spruce into exis
tence stood forth conspicuous, as it
A. glittered in the sunlight It was a
A glorious panorama There was no
A: city in the world more beautiful than
A’ . bonn’.e Edinburgh; but be had had
pfey ample time to explore aud admire its
r,: v;.
bcautlos during the fortnight, bo
presently ho lurned away to look at
the room. Hare books lay on the
tablo, n fow choice pictures wore on
tho wnlls. objects of art were scat
tered about In ovary direction. To
his loft, catching the light from tho
opposite window, stood a painter's
easel, supporting a picture covered
by an Indian shawl. On two or
three stools were palettes. colors,
brushes, and other implements of the
studio. His curiosity was excited bv
tho covered picture, so ho stepped
forward, and romovod tho ohawl. It
droppod from his hands as he ex
claimed. "Curly!" '1 ho painting was
not qulto finished, but tho resem
blance was so life liko you almost ex
pectod to sno poor Donald start from
tho canvas—to hear him spoak!
Whilo Willlo stood lost In contem
plation nsolt low voles murmured,
as if in rosponse to his unspoken
thoughts. "Considering that it is oniy
painted from memory, It is not a bad
likeness, is it Mr. Jamieson?"
Turning round he saw 1 loro. Ho
bowed, and. dexterously avoiding her
I proilered hand, coldly replied:
"You wishod to see me, madam,
and I am hero."
.there was a pause, ion see thoy
mot under tho shadow of a misunder
standing, and neither one of them
know exactly how to begin. She, of
course, doomed herself wronged. At
one time sho hud made up iter mind
thut she never would, never could
forgive Curly. Hut after all she was
a woman. .Sho was alone in the
world now. for her father hnd been
dead for somo months. She did not
even affect to bewail him, though
In defcronco to tho prejudices of so
I eioty. sho wore mourning. She was
j now froo to think and act for herself.
I If Curly could only explain the pa9U
| if—
Of all her hopes and fears.'of the
to-riblo trial through which she and
hoc lover had passed, Willie knew
nothing, lie only knew that his
friend had been cruelly wronged, and
then, us ho imagined, troaehorously
abandoned by tho woman ho loved.
On tho other hand, It must be rernom
bered that it was she who had most
reason to think hersolf deserted and
betrayed. 1! os ides, she was in total
ignoranco of what hnd occurred to
Curly, or indeed what had become of
him since their parting, the had
scon Willie's name announced at tho
thuatro, anu sho felt convinced that
if any man know Curly’s whereabouts
| Wllllo Jamieson was that man. She
j remembered, top tho promise of tho
| latter on the night of jhe elopemeut.
j llonoe it occprrod to her as an Inspir
ation to Invito him to come and see
her. Ho had accepted her invitation,
certainly, but he might apparently
as well have been in Aberdeen, so
cold and distant did he seem.
! “Mr. Jamieson." sho said, ‘you
! onco told mo that should I need a
j friond. 1 might rely on you.”
j “I did. but many things have hap
! penod since that night. You were
j then about to bocome the wife of the
| man whom you have siuse so cruelly
j ubandonod.”
I “Stop sir," sho said, “one mo
jment,"and she went rapidly to an
escritoire at the other side o: tho
! room, and taking out the fatal paper
with Curly’s signature, she continued,
•■bo'oro you speak further, perhaps
you had better read this.”
Jamieson read it. Then exclaimed:
•My God! What does It all mean?”
••That is the question I ask myself
by day. on my bended knees, by
night, on my sleepless pillow—but
I answer never comes. 1 thought pos
‘ slbly you might bavo been able to ex
! plain."
| “I know less. Miss M’Allister, than
you know yoursoir. After you left
Aberdeen together I never even heard
from him. until the day after I last
saw you. Tho next morning brought
me a message from him. An hour
later. I was on my way to Dundee.
where I found him in the Infirmary_
how. I have not the heart to tell
you.” and he broke down utterly.
It was astonishing how calm she
remained till ho had recovered him
self. then he resumed, and told her
e\ci-ywung wuicu mo reader Knows
already. It was her turn then. She
wept one moment und chafed the
next with clenched hands and set
teeth she strode to and fro. as she ex
claimed:
••The villain! the cowardly, das
tardly villain. Oh! that I were a
man for your sake Daniel Deemp- j
ster!”
••Don't you waste your breath on
that gentleman—leave him to me!”
said Jamieson. "^>ow if you please^
Miss M1 Allister. we are friends hence
forth. so give me your hand. ” Sho
extended it frankly, and he kissed it
reverently.
•■Since the time I told you of,” he
continued, ‘your name has never
passed between ua but 1 know the
poor fellow loves you still, dearer
than life.*
••If he loved me could he—
could he have done this shamo
ful thing? And to call God
to witness it too! Ob! the coward!
the coward.’’
••We must take human nature as
we find it. God help him. if he is a
coward, and God help me. for I can
love him none the less. Do you love
him less than 1 do? ’
••1 did love him once mere than
all the world, but oh! Mr. Jamieson. ’’
; she exclaimed, ••the M’Allisters have
\ held their own in flood and field since
i Scotland was a nation. And a cow
ard! t.h! 1 can’t bear it” And she
cast herself on the couch, and wept
; bitterly. Then she got up and pointed
j to the pictura
j • -Look there ” she said, "does that
| look like a coward!”
i "Xft” Willis replied, ‘and I don't
| believe he is a coward, but there are
j moments when the bravest man loses
heart Tell me ono thing: were they
‘ not armed?"
••Yes; they both had loaded pistols. ”
"And of course he was unarmed,
defenseless! Can't you see?—they
would have slain hlin llioro and then,
bad he not signed that miserable pa
per. ISesidoa they worked upon hi*
fours for yea and in a moment of
weakness ho yielded to their lnfanywa
throats."
••He ought not to have yielded—
death, anything but dishonor. I
would have avenged him first and
bewailed him after."
It was Willie's turn to wait now.
When she had softenod down a little
he showed her u letter he had recoivod
that morning. At tne vory sight of
the well known hand her heart leaped
with joy; he was alive—he still loved
her—all was forgotteii, forgiven.
Jamieson asked her permission to
writo to Curley to explain that he had
soeu her. but she bogged him to loivvo
her to tako hor own course, which
slio did, with results to be hereafter
stated.
. CHAPTER XL
The Fatal Anniversary.
Meanwhilo Curly was busy with hi*
rehearsals in town. At length came
the debut. All through the earlier
I art of the play he impressed the
uudience most favorably, and each
succeeding act conlirmed the impres
sion. The minuet in the masquerade
sceno was danced by him with such
supple elegance that lie completed!! is
conquest of the capricious public.
The ladles wore in raptures with the
new comedian, and even the men
were unwillingly moved to admiration.
The debutant's success was assured—
a brillinnt futuro lay bofore him.
When he returned to his room to
make his chauge for the last act a
large parcel lay upon his dressing
table. He motioned the dresser to un
pack It When he had finished chang
ing he looked at the contents of the
parcel. There was a quantity of fresh
flowers* and a letter directed in the
hand ho knew so well. His heart,
stood still for a moment; then ho took
courage. 'There would be a few kind
words perhaps; something to give him
heart of grace, lie tore open the en
velopo. and stood for a moment like
a man transformed to stone.
Traced in characters of fire he saw
the fatal words:
“These presents are to attest that
Flora M’Alllstor is not my wife; and I
call God to witness that neither now
nor hereafter will I seek to become
her husband.
•DOXALD CAMPBELL.
••Dudhope Ferry. May 12, 18—”
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
She Settled Him, -
The lady was undoubtedly angry.
She had taken kor seat in a cable car
oao crowded afternoon, and was con
templating her surroundings with an
air of unreserved satisfaction when
tho object of her ire entered and stood
directly in front of her. He scorned
the assistance of tho strap and
seemed thoroughly coniideut of main
taining his equilibrium under any and
all circumstances of cable-car travel.
In this, however, he was rudely sur
prised by tbe sudden starting of the
car, ana stepping backward trod heavi
ly on the lady’s dainty shoe. Of
course she was angry, but the pain
was too much for silent suffering.
“Those straps are intended to as
sist such peoplo as you." she said.
He excused himself, but paid nc
heed to the warning and continued
to stand in the center of the aisle.
At tho next street corner, however,
the fellow tripped up and fell against
the woman. Rising with the woman's
energy sho shouted amid the smiles
of a half hundred "passengers; “If
you won’t hold on to those straps in
the future. I will give you my seat
and hold on myself!’’ That ‘settled"
him.
Large Rata In Small Bottles.
Lord Albemarle told Mrs. Beecher
Stowe, when she was in England, this
story about the Duke of Wellington:
Sitting next a lady at dinner, who had
a smelling-bottle containing muskthe
Duke Is alleged to have said to her:
•■in India ladles put musk-rdts into
their smelling-bottles.” “They must
oe very email rats. teen," the lady
observed. "Not at all—about the
size of English rats." "Then their
smelling-bottles must be very large.”
••Not at all—about tho size of yours."
When the gentlemen entered the
drawing-room. Lord Fitzroy Somerset
whispered to the lady: "You now
see the sort of difficulties we have at
the Horse Guards; we are required to
put very large rats Into very small
bottles.”— Argonaut
Obliging Official*.
When Admiral Shufeldt went to
the hermit nation, Corea, to arrange
for a treaty. Miss Shufeldt missed a
valuable bracelet the theft of which
was duly reported to the proper au
thorities. Suspicion rested upon two
natives, who were taken before the
tribunal and subjected to a rigorous
examination. The officials found
that no incriminating evidence could
bo obtained against the suspected cul
prits and informed Miss Shufeldt of
the fact but added in a spirit of
courtesy, that 'if madam wishes,
however, we will at once cut off the
heads of both men.
Gold Diggers of Thibet.
The gold diggers of Thibet most
of whom are Chinese make air do tho
work of water. That is to say, they
use the same process by which farm
ers used to winnow their grain before
fanning mills were iuvented. They
lift the baskets containing earth and
gold to an elevation and then slowly
empty the contents to the ground.
A Lonely Little Girl.
Elsie, who la the youngest of the
family, was entertaining me tho other
day. During the conversation she
said: "AH the folks who come to our
house are so much older than I am."
Giving a little sigh she continued:
•There seems to be awfully few peo
ple seven yean old nowaday s.”—
Hartford Post
FARM AND HOUSEHOLD.
THE ADVANTAGES OP IRRIGA
TION IN CROP GROWING.
(Titter Available mien Needed—To
Keep nillk From Souring—Ilow to
Manage Cat Worms— Aboat Tomatoes,
Sheep Shearing and Household Helps.
Irrigation,
The more wo observe tho effects of
irrigation as relating to farming and
tho production of crops the more wo
become convinced of its advantages,
and that it might be profitably em
ployed in many soctions whore such
assistance is unthought of. One
j point must be conceded and that is,
that moisturo is an absolute neces
sity in crop growing, not only to
start tho seed into vital activity, but
as a medium whoroby the soluble
I elementa of nutrition aro conyeycd
to the plant itself. While it is truo
(hat an excess is objectionable and
hurtful, it must at the same time bo
romembored, that the want of it, is
also fully as damaging to the growth
and development of a crop.
Tho advantage of using irrigation
water is that its offico can bo
rogulatod to meet the actual require
ments, and if there is sufficient
moisture in the * soil to answer tho
demand of the crop and hold it in a
condition of healthy growth then the
irrigation supply neod not bo drawn
upon, this is usually the case in the
spring after the melting of snow and
tho fall of spring rains has occurred,
but how often is it the case that as
the summer months come on with
the attendant hot weather, the sup
ply of moisture diminishes and at
the same time the demand is rapidly
increasing with the increased growth
of tho piant; this is the time when
an incalculable amount of benefit
could bo conferred by an applica
tion of water held by storage
for that purpose. Wo do not claim
that irrigation can be made available
in every instance whero it might be
needed, but wo believe that there are
sections whore a reservoir might be
constructed to provent tho waste of
surplus water, 'and that might by
some effort be diverted, to points
whero crops would bo greatly bene
titted. We have seen something of
tho workings of irrigation in Colo
rado and also in California, although
wo are aware that the genoral condi
tions of climate in both states are
unlike most other sections of the
country in the fact of having a longer
season of no rainfall; but the effects
can bo studied equally as well.
Even at the East whero rainfall is
expected periodically, crops aro fre
quently greatly injured by a want of
moisture; this is the case in Colorado
and California with this difference,
there it becomes a certainty but the
effects are wholly warded off by
means of a sufficient flow of water
from some neighboring canal and be
cause of this crops are kept continu
ally growing and are carried to a
state of perfection. It is considered
that by a judicious use of water for
irrigation, crops of much superior
quality and of larger yield are se
cured, and this is what nil farmers
desire. ,
The same rule that applies to culti
vated crops, such as vegetables,
corn, etc., will apply with equal
force to grains and grasses, says
Coleman's Rural World; a crop of
grass may bo very largely increased
by a use of water, and this, too, by no
addition of fertilizer. In Colorado
immense crops of alfalfa are grown
through the agency of irrigation and
we feel confident that tho same means
applied to mowing lands of the
Eastern, Middle and Southern states,
where possible, would tend to a great
ly increased crop of hay. There is
little doubt but that the improved
agriculture of the future will demand
the utilization of the surplus water
that now goes to waste.
To Keep Milk From Soaring.
A man who has had experience in
handling milk sent to the Boston
market, and who, never had any sour
milk returned, recently told an East
ern exchange how ho managed to
keep milk from souring. He say9 :
In the first place the cans need at
tention, especial pains being taken to
thoroughly cleanse jans and stoppers
and place them upon a rack outdoors,
to air or sun. They aro not taken to
the barn till milking time, and no
empty cans are allowed abDut the
barn. Particular care is taken to
have the udders clean, and the milk,
as elean as possible, turned from the
milk pail to the strainer pail, and
poured through a cloth as well as
wire strainer, into the cans and im
mediately set into a trough of run
ning water; the temperature varying
somewhat with the weather, from
forty-eight to sixty degrees. The
milk is stirred with a long handled
spoon at frequent intervals, and left
unstopperod over night, but the lid
or cover of the trough is closed.
The milk is taken from the trough
the first thing in the morning and
stoppled, and the morning’s milk
similarly treated, except the time of
remaining in the water has been lim
ited to from two to four hours. By
this, to explain. 1 mean, at one time
we had to get it to the depot at 9 a.
m., at [another 7 a. m., by change in
routes.
It is my opinion that clean milk,
placed in clean cans, cooled to sixty
degrees at the farm, and placed in a
milk car with ice, and reaching Bos
ton that day, so that it will reach
the consumer for the next day's use,
will be found to be perfectly sweet
for all uses, if not tampered with by
the milkman.
I do not believe that such milk
needs any of the so-called preserva
tives to add to its keeping qualities.*
In the absence of running water,
where well water had to De used, I
should not set the milk into freshly
pumped water, because too sudden
cooling will separate the cream from
the milk while the water of milder
temperature will not; but the water
should bo renewed after the milk has
stood an hour or so at night, and for
well water, renewing once a day is
sufficient—Journal of Agriculture.
How to Mariugtf Cut Worms. ■
A writer tolls the Cali fornia Fruit
Grower that he thinks the best way
to get rid of cut worms is to poison
them. He says: "I use syrup or
water well sweetened, mix with plen
ty of Paris green and thicken with
flour. I cut papers six or eight inches
square with a cut over half way
through the center, and a cross cut
through that to fit around treos or
vines then hold them in place with
clods and put a few spoonfuls of the
mixturo around the treos or vines on
the paper. I find plenty of dead cut
worms and beetles both on and under
the paper. I have not had a chance
to try it on canker worms, but I
think they would eat it, and it would
bo cheaper and better than printer’s
ink around the tree. I also protect
my young trees with tins that clamp
around them. I havo made them six
inches high and about three inches
in diametar and put them in the
ground two or three inches. Cut
worms and beetles cannot climb over
them, and will not dig under them.
Any tinsmith will mako them for
;\bout two cents a piece. I have used
the tins sucessfully three seasons.”
|Nonsense About Tomatoes.
An idea has gained currency dur
ing the past few years that the
tomato aa an article of diot is liable
to produce or encourage the terrible
disease of cancer, and not long ago
it was stated the use of this vegeta
ble had been forbidden at the London
cancer hospital. So widely spread
had this notion become that Dr.
Marsden, chairman of the medical
committee of the cancer hospitisl,
has thought it advisable to give it
official contradiction. He says that
his committee has been inundated
with letters on this subject, and he
begs publication for the following
statement, which wo hopo will settle
the matter once for all. It is the
opinion of the committee “that
tomatoes neither predispose nor ex
cite cancer formation, and that they
are not injurious to those suff&ring
from this disease, but on the con
trary, are a very wholesome article
of diet, particularly so if cooked.
Farmer’s Voice.
Sheep Shearings.
Plenty of bells on tho sheep will
frequently scare tho dogs away.
If the ewe is not strong and per
fect how do we expect a strong and
perfect lamb? But some seem to ex
pect it.
It is likely that flockmasters
must depend on mutton productions
or give up sheep breeding. It looks
that way.
It is claimed that sheep that will
yield at least six pounds of wool,
will double the flockmaster's money
in four y<_ars.
It would seem that as long as wo
do not produce enough mutton or
wool for home supply, sheop growing
should be profitable.
Sheep will bear much neglect, but
it is certainly unwise to invest
money in an animal simply to see
how much neglect it will stand.
There is often a black sheep in the
flock with a whito fleece. It is the
shoep that is good for nothing. That
is the kind of individual we apply
tho name of black sheep to in a
human family. It fils just as well in
the Hock.
Household Helps.
A raw potato dipped in brick dus.
is effective for cleaning steel knives.
Mildewed clothes may be renewed
by soaking the spots in buttermilk
and spreading the garments on the
grass in the sun.
One pint of buttermilk in which a
well-beaten egg is stirred will break
up any fever in half an hour if not
of too long standing.
A “friendship garden” is the latest
fad for the woman who has a country
home or lives in the suburbs. A
friendship garden is one in which to
grow flowers and shrubs that have
been planted by friends and relatives
of the owner.
A good way to cook liver is to fry
it in butter, with an onion cut in
small pieces scattered over it. Cook
slowly; when done add a lump of
butter and a little flour; stir well and
turn over the liver. Serve with Sara
toga potatoes.
Grease stains on a carpet may be
effectively treated by applying a mix*
ture composed of two ounces of
amonia, two ounces white cistile
soap, oxe ounce glycerine, one ounce
of ether. The soap should be dis
solved, first in a pint of water, then
the other ingredients and two quarts
of water should be added. Another
recipe for removing grease spots re
quires the application of four table
spoonfuls of alcohol to one of salt.
To remove the glass stopper from
a bottle, tap the neck gently on a
hard substance, wood or marble, first
on one side, then on the other. This
usually serves, but to keep the neck
[ well covered with olive oil for an
j hour is another plan, and still an
j other is to immorse the bottle in hot
; water and let it stand for fifteen
I minutes.
j Hair brushes should be washed
once a week to keep them in a health
ful condition. A bit of washing soda
should bo dissolved in hot water.
The brushes should be dipped in the
water bristles downward, the back
and handles being kept as free from
the water as possible. Ammonia
may be used in the same way, but
soap is said to ba injurious to the
bristles.
“GATORed*1
br • Saurian ,h.
*»Uu.
■' " tha .... j
. TV, *" N"er **.,£***
‘•Did you ever hear ni4,
mule?’ ” asked Mr.
rhompson. of New York S? &
^Ll8Tfy home. afte?ayes^01'R
Florida for his health. ,p*»‘ k
“A ‘gatored mule.’ u. .
in Florida, is one of that
race which has been driven J*S'
insane from an alligator ?.p*rtl»l1j
fact, while a mule will stolif^ **
to be thrown off a railroad i.d y nl‘
motive before he move. \ byaloc*
a wild state of Tro^
giimpse of a saurian monster
“There are hundreds nf
mules’ in Florida. To toll it,W ^
ikeip.dto.g.w<,„s;i,'5
did it happen? ™ Ho»
“Well, I had been stayhn> at(V.i
some weeks, and finally agreed^4
several friends, to go hunCL .
south. About twenty rn\\i ,%
town we located upon i small stS?
abounding in game. After
camp I went for a walk and S1”*
long found a ’gator hole.; Fr<Sl
strong musty odor which °
k””,tat tu"««;
“Calling my companions. I decide*
to capture him. We rammed a
pole into the burrow several timea
Finally we heard the snap uke£
report of a gun, and the pole
mainod fast. The ’gator had *1*
it. W o tried vainly to pall him,
Then some one suggested that
use our camp mule. We shouted
The mule was led down to the hole
chain fastened to the pole , and the
the frightened animal, was started
“There was a creaking of chaint
a roar, and tho alligator, seven fee
in length, came out with a rash, i
the mule started on a wild ran ft
the road. The saurian’s teeth wei
sunken so deeply into the wood the
he could not release himself, u
away wont mule, pole and all Tl
alligator spun around, Kissing like
steam engine, but he held on, whil
the mule, thinking himself pursue.
Enorted and ran. We followed. Ini
the main Btreets of Ocala flew tl
mule and his queer load. Complete!
exhausted, he was stopped by a pari
in front of the postoffice. The ’gat;
was dead. We skinned and stufTe
him. The mule recovered, but tl
sight of a swamp now throws hi
into a perfect frenzy of terror.
WHITE HORSE OF LAMBOURNE.
Strange Natural Formation Seen on an
English Hillside.
In Berkshire, England, is situated
a hill on the steep side of which is
the figure of a gigantic horse whose
dimensions are almost an acre in ex
tent. The head, neck, body, and
tail of this wonderful figure consists
of wide white lines, as does also each
of its four legs. The outlines ol
this monstrous specimen of the genus
equinus are formed by cutting
trenches in the chalk, of which the
hill is mainly composed, the ditches
being from two to three feet deep
and about ten feet in width. The
chalk of the trenches being oi a
beautiful white and the surroundings
the greenest of the green, makes the
figure of the horse plainly discerni
ble, according to the Philadelphia
Press, at a distance of about twelve
miles. This is the famous “White
Horse of Lambourno." The white
horso is known no have been the
standard of the Saxons and
some have supposed that this
monster emblematic figure was
made by Hengist, one ot
the Saxon kings. Mr. Wise, an an
tiquarian who has written much on
the white horse of Berkshire, bring*
in several arguments to prove that
this figure was made by or i
orders from Alfred during the reign
of Ethelred, his brother, and that it
is a monument to a victory over the
Danes in the year 871. Other web
known writers are of the opinion t»
the celebrated white horse is
natural freak—one of nature's oddest
oddities. Ashmead-Burrton thins*
that the early tribes noticed that
outlines of the freak resembled»
horse to a certain extent and
they worked it into its present shape,
at least that they gave the outline
their present graceful symme •
However this may be, it has been
custom since time out of memory
the neighboring peasants to »sse'
on a certain day of each y ■
usually about midsummer, to
away the weeds from ar0““ ..
white horse and to trim the eag
the trenches so as to preserv
color and shape. This task is ^
all over England as
white horse. ”
“scouring th*
He Carried - --
Bluster, to an opponent with *
he had been holding an angry
sation—Be careful of your l»“SuSS
to me, sir!
Opponent—What for? oe
Bluster—I hold to the cod
member I carried a sword during
war. r00
Opponent—Yes, I recollect
carried it in a Knight Temp
cession. —Texas Siftings.
At the Bargain Coon*** ^
"The mystery surrouudin. ^
sudden disappearance be no
Bychepe turned out to
mystery at all. ”
“How’s that?” , b03f
“Her crushed and flattened ^
was found among the debri tet
of Atcoste & Co.’s barg®1
when they swept out the no^
<ng after the disappearance.
stjrle and Poverty. ^
Augustus — Let’s take a pr
de. I'rt
Cholly Cawn’t do It.^ bleyatbeti
wn’t do it. me u£atberi
ot to make these paten «eaK
twst till it’s warm enougn /
is sets.
