Nebraska Newspapers

    P,v
THE APPROACH OF NIQHT.
And all the dowy arvows of the night
Shot out from a quivering space:
While ovary little loaf ami louder flower
Bent to rooolvo t.ho stveot baptUm of graco
And all the garish lights of day
Pled baok ward to u fleeting iloa’h;
And every winged thing of earth
Was hushed iosofi ami slumbrous breath.
Then, from somewhere out. the aides,
There stole upon a waiting world
The soft awoot imaee of paradisn
From out tbo groat uuiocn t’was hurled.
—Intor-Ocoun.
f: The Actor's Story,
ty . -
nV JOHN (OLEitfAN.
CHAPTER Xtl—CovTfxrK.rv.
As ihe mall rattled through Bir
mingham that night it passed within
a stone's throw of a pauper lunatic
asylum, whoro a worn und wasted
man lay, making one continual moan:
"All. my loved! My lost love! If
you only know—if you only know!”
Could tho Inmntosof that couch hnvo
board that plloous prayer oven thou it
might not have boon too lulo! Alas!
' CHAPTER XIII.
Waiting on tho Other Side.
Whon thoy got back to Edinburgh
Flora rallied a little, but she hail a
v presentiment that tho end was near,
and she wished to close her eyes there
whore thoy had first scon tho light, so
after tv rest of a fow months she pro
liv pared to return home.
The season boingovor in Edinburgh
'Jamieson arranged to play a short
; engagement In Aberdeen, and thoy
journoyod north together.
S'* Hor relations having espoused her
father’s views on tho subject of her
connection with Curly, a total es
trangement had ensued between them.
Except tho family doctor and Jean
7 nle and Willie sho had not airload in
tbo world. It was not to bo wondcrod
at therefore that sho urgod tho latter
to oocupy her father’s rooms -during
his visit Considerations of decorum
Induced him to pause but whon Jean
; i nle added hor entreaties to those of
her mistress, and when Dr. Miller as
s'.' mred hint that it was absolutely nec
essary that eomo one in whom sho
could confide should bo always near
her. why he snapped his lingors at
•■Mrs. Grundy,” and took up his j
abode at Galrloch house.
From tho first Flora did not deceive
.; herself, so one day whilo Jamieson
at rehearsal sho 6ont for Mr.
k: M'Crawley Glttins, tho family solic
itor. and mado her will. This gentle
man demurred in carrying out hor in
struetions. .but sho was peremptory
J§7 and there was nothing for It but to
;> obey. The will was executed and at
testod by the gardener and coachman.
Then she gave tho documont to tho
doctor (whom sho had constituted one
of her trustees) for security. The
y- lawyer did not look ovorplcasod. and
\iy; took his departure somewhut abruptly.
At length Jamieson’s engagement ;
was over, and he was enabled to do- j
V vote more timo and attention to the
Invalid. Every day about noon sho
Usually tottered luto tho room, sup
ported by Jeannie; then ho would as
sist her to tho sofa placed outside tho
!•*'drawing-room. in tho garden over-1
. looking tho sea. whoro they would sit
1 for hours together reading or talking
. of her lost love. Sho never believed
that he was dead.
At length oame tho time when she
could no longer loave hor room. Wil
lie became more and moro anxious,
and Dover left tho house. Every now
■ , and thon Jeannie reported that tho
-invalid was sleeping, or. perhaps
that she was reading Curly's letter*
s; or weeping over his portrait,
y As Jamieson's anxiety increased he
would lie awake half tho night read
ing
One night, especially, ho had a pro
f sentiment of evil which kept him
•( awake till daybreak. Ho read, or
‘ried to read, far into the morning,
until it was fair daylight—indeed, al
yl- moat tube for him to get up. At last
y he felt’® into a stupor of sleep. He
had baiwly slept half nn hour when
Jeanole oame to his bedsido and
touebod him on the shoulder. In a
moment he was awake. ••Come.” sho
[i said He looked at hor pale face and
knew what she meant. The time had
come. He remembered long after
that it was the twelfth of May—the
C second anniversary of the fatal day at
the ferry. When he entered Flora’s
chamber the large French windows
were opea wido, the sweet smell of
ri ' the flowers, the fresh breath of the
77, »ea the rippling of the waters wash
ing the shore below at the foot of tho
garden, the bud. tho leaf, tho flower,
and the young dav leaping into life.
* the joyous carol of tho lark ascending
j to the gates of heaven God s glorious
; J sunshine filling the room—all these
made it seem as if death could never
.' come where all this busy, beauteous
life abounded. •
Thera she lay. in the light of the
dawning day. docked as if for a bridal.
She was clad in a white lace
j\y pelgnor—dowers still fresh with the
mor.iing dew were around her and
about her. the graynoss nud the gloom
.-.i had gone, the bloom of youth had re
turned to her cheeks, her eyes
>;T.. glistened with a humid, tendor light
—•the sea breeze toyed softly with her
beautiful hair as it fell in tangled
masses on her shoulders.
To the left of the bed stood Curly's
portrait, long since finished. The
1? -. poor lad was attired in his cornet's
uqiform—the dress he had worn the
night when they lirst met at the ball,
s V,. ’ bbe was smiling upon the picture,
and Jamieson thought the picture was
smiling upon her.
'V • Soft as his footfall fell she heard
it Turning toward him. she spoke
in a low. soft voice. The words and
the melody dwelt in his memory as
long as he lived.
’•Willie" she said—she had nevei
called him by that name before—
!;■ ••may I call you so?"
'The tears which he strove to keep
back, i boked him. and he could only
&■, bow bis head in silence. She took hia
huge haml in hor baby Ungers, as she
continued.
‘•You weroalways a friend—always,
and you hive been very good to me.
When all this Is but a memory, lhope
you’ll moot seine woman worthy of
you. and If children should como to
bless your home, call them after him
—aftor him and—me." Then she
kissed his hand.
After a pause, she inquired. “Do
you remember whnt day to Is Is?”
Again ho bowed his head, while she
continued in the tame swooti, gontlo
voice:
••This day, two years ago, they
killed our young Uvea, but they could
never kill our love—that will live
when wo are dead! Hush! you aro a
man—a bravo ona Don't cry for me.
deur—I nin happy now. Ho will
come back to you some day—I’m sure
ho will. Toll blm 1 loved him always
—tell him I huvo waited for him hero
ns long as I could, now I shall wait
for him there! My poor Curly!”
c haFterxvi.
Mun to Man.
The relatives came down like a
horde of locusts at the funeral. They
wore all Presbyterians anil Elora was
a lloman Catholic, so they left the
cortego at the gate of the burial
ground. Tho chief mourners wore
the doctor. Jeannie and Willie.
When (hey npproachcd the grave,
there stood besido it a gigantic man
whom Willie instantly recognised
from Elspetli M'Diarmid's descrip
tion. There was no mistake about
the •■corbie’s beak and tho evil eon."
now bloodshot und inflamed. Tho
very sight of this loathsome creature
set Jamieson's blood on tire, and ho
had the greatest difficulty in restrain
ing himself from taking tho law into
his own hands there and then. A
hugo white horse, a vicious looking
beast with a tremendous Roman noso,
stood tied up without tno gate,
champing fretfully at the bit As
soon as the codin was lowered, with
an impatient gesture Dcerapster
turned away, leaped on the horse
pave him the spur, and was out of
sight in a moment.
••ARer all,” muttered Willie be
tween his teeth. • it is best it should
bo so. I can wait I can wait!”
On returning to the Uairloch house
after tho funeral he and tho doctor
found tho relatives in solemn conclave
in the dining room, paying their re
spects to the ‘•funeral-baked moats,”
The genernl buzz of conversation !
censed as Jamieson entered. With- I
out ceremony Dr. Miller proceeded to i
read the will. With tho exception of j
certain legacies such as live hundred I
pounds to the doctor's daughter, flvo I
hundred pounds to the lawyer, two !
hundred a year to Jeannie. and vari- !
ous smaller sums to the servauts, tho j
whole of tho estate, real and person- j
al moneys invested in stock, etc.. ;
amounting in the aggregate to some- |
thing like twelve thousand pounds a j
year, was bequeathed to Jamieson in I
trust for Curly (if ho should be alive), j
falling this Willie was to inherit
everything absolutely, without let,
hindrance, or control being consti
tuted residuary legatee and joint exe
cutor with Dr. Miller.
When the will was read a dead
silence ensued.
Evidently the family circle had
been already prepared for this tntelii
ponco and their plan of notion had
been arranged. Every one ’turned
round and looked at the lawyer, who
rose, and clearing his throat with a
glass ol sherry, said:
••Ahem, my friends I am already
acquainted with jour views nud it
only remains for me to carry out my
instructions. Ahem! Dr. "Miller. I
beg to inform you and yonder young
man that my clients here assembled
will resist to the uttermost the carry
ing out of this will and. in fact, legal
proceedings havo this day been com
menced. praying the court not to
grunt probate on tho grounds of in
sanity on the part of tho testatrix and
undue influence on the part of tho
residuary legatee. Acting under ad
vice, tho seal or tho procurator-fiscal
has been placed upon all documents
valuables, etc., belonging'to the es
tate and as we aro de facto in pos
session (which, as you are doubtless
awara is nine points in law) on be
half of the next of kin. nothing re
mains for me but to request the so-call
ed executors and tho woman Jeannie
McPherson to quit thia house with as
little delay as possible. As we do not
Wish to behave ungenerously, we will
allow you half an hour to clear out.
We have left nothing to accident and
the police are here should it bo found
necessary to have recourse to them in
aid of the process of ejectment”
Hero was a deadlock. The doctor
j and Jamieson took stock of the situa
[ tion. found the enemy held every
! card except the will and. desirous of
| avoiding scandal left tho house im
| mediately without a word. Not so poor
jeannie. &>ne cave too enemy n hot
time of it, but in the end even she bad
to succumb to the rough logic of facts.
Jamieson accompanied the doctor
to his solicitor, and gave instructions
for the defense of their rights under
the will, and so commenced the litiga
| tion in the famous case of 'Jamieson
and Miller vs. M’AUister and Others."
Fortunately ior Jeannie. the doctor,
who was a widower, wanted a hbuse
keeper to look after his daughter Mag*
gie, and he installed Jeannie at once.
Jamieson had an engagement of
j fered him for Glasgow, and there was
i nothing to detain him further, except
! to "Dave it out” with Mr. Deempster.
I Stratluninos is about six miles from
j Aberdeen but that was nothing to
Willie, so he walked over one line
morning after breakfast On arriving
at the lodge ho inquired if the laird
was ;about? The lodge-keeper re
plied '• dfe is gone out to have a wee
bit rabbit shooting. You’ll find him
in the glen yonder, about a mile and
a bittoek awa\”
A mile and a bittoek means two
good Knglish miles or more. Still it
was all in the day’s walk. At length
Willie reached the glen. As he en
tered at one enu Deempster appeared
v ♦ '>1*4. .•* "1 ' *
at the other, with hie gun and \£k
j dog a pretty black pointer. At the
two men approahel eaoh other the
j dog came bounding forward and
licked Jamioson's hand The laird
I pulled himself up stiflly. and growled
! out, “Now then, what do you want?"
•■I want you. Dan'l Dceinpstor. l>o
you know mo?"
••Oh. uy. I ken you well enough,
l'ou’ro tho play-actor fellow that was
at the funeral the other day; but
you’re no’ in the klrkyard the noo,
you'ro trespassing on my grounds, so
you'd bettor make yourself scarce."
‘-Not till I have sottled my account
with you."
•ue.- js mo leuow maur ■
‘•Taka care that you keep a civil
tongue in your head. Mr. Ddompster.
or it will be the worse for you. I’ve
waited for this two years or more, but
now the time has come.”
“Well, now that it has come, once
more I ask. What do you want with
mo:'"
• I want to tell you that when you
ffave Donald Campbell that foul blow,
■ out below the hill by Dudhopo Ferry.
I you murdered two lives, and because
| the law can take no cognizance of
your crime you thinic you can escape
j with impunity!"
\ ‘Impunity!” roated Deempstor;
I “is it impunity to have that baby
faced blockhead, with his great glit
tering eyes, his white face, and fair
hair streaked with blood, standing by
my bedinud board by day and night!
Hut thero— Clear out, or I’ll riddle
your hide with buckshot? You won’t?
Then by”-and with the word he
lifted his gun, and let fly at Willie.
Fortunately his eye was quicker
than the other's hand, and he cast
himself full length on the grass as
the charge flew harmlessly over him.
The next instant ho was at his would
be assassin's throat had snatched the
rifle from him. smashed the stock and
barrel over his knee, and hurled it a.
hundred paces away.
The pointer stood still ar.d trembled.
Then the tragedian said, in a stern,
quiet voice. •! don’t wish to have
blood on my soul—not even the blood
of such a skunk as you are. But I
am going to thrash you as long as I
can stand over you.
• So put up your hands and don’t
let me take you at a disadvantage.”
••You take me at a disadvantage—
you?"
•••Don't talk, but put up your hands
I tell you."
[TO BE CONTINUER]
ALAS FOR HER.
The Sad, Sad Tale of a Cable Ride and
llralds of Soft. Hair.
A sad. sad tale is floatiug about the
circumambient atmosphere about a
sweet young girl, says the Louisville
Commercial, who wont out a summer
ovening with her best young man.
Her toilet was simplicity and good
taste itself. Arrayed in vestal white,
with white lilacs in her hat, and her
gloves and boots most unexception
able, she was a "maiden fair to sea”
Why. a man would know as soon as
ho looked at her that she was sweet
ness and modesty itself. Nothing
strained nor artificial about her. She
was a human daisy, a violet, with no
knowledge of the arts nnd shams of
women who have been in the hollow,
artificial world. Her young man was
all attention. Ho placed her upon a
front seat in the cur and proceeded to
do the devotion act thoroughly. And
she shyly blushed and sweetly smiled
in an enchanting manner as she in
clined her fair young head toward him
to catch his murmured words. All
was going on beautifully when
one of ihe two young men who
sat just behind them called the at
tention of his companion to somu
thing about the bead of the young
girl. 'The other follow grinned, and
then a woman across the aisle smiled,
which attracted the attention of olher
people on the car. and they also
looked and seemed amused. The best
young man detected these glances and
saw that something was wrong, and
he proceeded to take a look himself
at the back hair of the one dear to
him. Of course, her hair was ar
ranged in just the pretty, natural way
one would expect in a girl like that—
just a simple braided knot of silken
tresses. But out of the center of the
knot, where an unkind fate had
caused a hairpin to give way. lhet-6
protruded the end of a switch of false
hair, to which was appended the hair
dresser's ticket, with the price of the
braid upon it And if it had not been
for those horrid young men it would
never have been seen. And it war
just too mean too! bo there, now! .
Perpetual Holy Lamps.
Cedemus makes mention of a lamp.
' which, together with an image o'.
I Christ; was found at Edessa, during
| the reign of the Emperor Justinian.
! It was set over a certain gate, and
sealed so as to exclude all air. Thr
seal testilied that these details wert.
carried out soon after the crucifix on.
When opened by the soldiers of Coa
roes, king of Persia it was found to
be burning as brightly at when first
inclosed, over 600 years before. The
Persian forces broke down the shrine
and poured out the oil that was still
in the lamp an act which is said to
have been followed by a great plague.
At the time the old monasteries of
England were demolished a lamp was
found in a tomb which was supposed
to have been burning since about the
year SO.) A D. How these things
were accomplished is a mystery, but
it is supposed that the Romans under*
stood how to resolve gold into an oil
a few ounces of which would suffice
| to burn a thousand years. If such an
art was ever understood it it now ir>
retrievably lost—Philadelphia Press.
A Horseshoe of Cowhide. .
A very elastic and durable horse
shoe is made in France by comprcssinc
cowhide in a steel mold and then sub
jecting It to a chemical process. It
i» said to last longer than iron and
needs no calka as it adheres readily
to any surface however smooth.
FARM AND HOUSEHOLD
THE GOSPEL OP CLEANLINESS
IN THE DAIRY.
Dairying la TlcklUli Dullness—Deop
Cultivation—Queen* Getting Loat—Ab
sorption In Drained Soils—Stock Notes
and Household Helps.
Cleanliness*
Dairying1 is a very ticklish busi
ness, Dairy products absorb odors
so readily that to keep them pure re
quires the greatest of care. The
country storekeeper gets some hard
raps for his “detestible” jumble of
different grades of butter, good, bad
and indiffercul; and I am free to con
fess that ho doservos pretty nearly
all the censure he gets. But he is
not the author of all tho bad butter
in the world. His offense is chiefly
that he spoils some good butter by
mixing it with grease. The grease
i is not made by him. It is sold to
him for butter. My desire is to im
press the butter maker with
tho fact that often through a
little carelessnoss on his or
her part butter is ruined. Sometimes
it is injured without any fault of the
buttor maker. It may be injured
while in the udder. Galen Wilson1*
recently gave an illustration of this,
in writing of the experience which
another had, who said: “I once got
up my cows late at milking time, be
tween sunset and dark. I sat down
to milk, and at the first stream was
almost choked with the effluvia of a
skunk. Tho hired man cried out
that the devil was to pay with the
cow, and we found every cow so
tainted that the milk was worthless.
That is all I Know about it, but I
suppose the cows had encountered a
skunk.” Now, if a cow’s milk while
in her udder can be so contaminated
by her sense of smell, says Wilson,
it is perspicously explained how the
milk gets into the dairy cocoanut.
Milk, when warm especially, absorbs
odors equally well whether in’ the
udder or not In a search for the
causes of so much poor butter it is
found that the farmer is many more
times in fault than his wife, who does
the mechanical part of making it
At first tho cow may have sour or
musty feed to eat, stagnant and bac
teria-ladon water to drink or manure
odors to inhale. And when the milk
is drawn it encounters stable and
^barnyard scents; and when being con
veyed to tho dairy-room it possibly
passes the pig pen, with its odorif
erous exhailations, the swill barrel
privy, a dead cat or hen lying on the
ground, the sink-drain, bad smelling
spots on tho ground where slops have
been thrown and rotten chips in the
woodshqd. These are all faults of the’
man. Woman’s derelictions are that
when milk enters the dairy in mav
encounter scents of cooking vegeta
tables, boiling clothing, steam frepn
washtub, floor mopping, musty cellar
scents, stale victuals and filth in the
corners and seams of milk utensils.
All of these scents pierce the milk as
surely as the sharp sticks do the
white man, with this difference, that
tho sticks are withdrawn and the
scent remains to corrupt the mass.
To make first-class’bntt9r every visi
ble and invisible Indian must be sup
pressed,says a Farmer’s Voice writer
I have found all this true in my
forty years’ experience, and anyone
who observes it will also find it true.
Deep CultlvAdou.
I read an article in your paper by
D. J Bissell, on “Corn Culture,”
which interested me, and as he
wants to hear from farmers and I be
ing a jack-at-all-trades will give my
experience, and that will differ from
Mr. Bissell as regards shallow culti
vation. Now, it all depends on how
you break the> ground; if you break
your ground shallow and plant your
corn it will come up and grow right
away from corn planted in same field
when ground is broke deep. Now,
the reason for that is this, the sub
soil is hard and as tho planter packs
the ground tight around the seed,
the moisture from the ground starts
the seed quicker than when the soil
is deep plowed and necessarily looser
around the kernel. In that case I
think shallow cultivation would be
the only way proper, since the ground
is too hard for the roots to go down
i for moisture, they must have to
spread out and if you cultivate deep
and cut those little feeders off, you
I injure your corn.
ii me season is right and soil good.
Mr. Bissell can raise corn, but let
him plant his corn that way, and tend
j it shallow. I will proceed as follows
as I have done for years with best
result and if we have a drouth or if
we do not I will beat him on corn. I
will plow my ground deep and put on
bull tongues and cultivate deep as I
plow and close to the corn; keep my
ground level, next time I will not
plow quite so close but close enough
to get the ground all covered with
fresh dirt. The third cultivation
should not be quite so close to the hill
but with large shovels; the fourth
time, which will likely bo the last,
turmyour shovels so as to put a little
more dirt toward corn and put the
bull tongue or small shovel on be
hind to keep the ground level, but
plow as deep as ever. If you have
tended your corn right ltwiu now be
just ready to commence tasseling
and after that time prosecuto any
man you catch cultivating your corn.
Your ground is loose and the feeders
have gone deep and corn is green
and will stand drouth while neighbor
Biesell’s is all fired: — Coleman’s
Bural World.
Queens Getting T.tts't.
Mrs. Jennie Atchloy tells the Can
adian Bee Journal: I have discovered
that queens do not often get lost on
the mating trip; but, upon their re
turn are apt to enter the wrong hive
and get killed. Ai we keep several
| hundred nuclei together or in adjeo
j ent yards, we have had scores cl
queens return to the wrong hives, In
which, being queenless most of the
time, they were accepted.' But she
always destroys the cell that is in the
nucleus. I noticed that where there
are only one or two hives apart by
themselves the queens do not get
lost. Even the drones in the drone
hive will scatter all over the yard,
and act pretty nearly the same way.
Who evef found a queenless bee
tree? I do not believe that one
queen in a hundred gets lost or is
captured by birds; they simply return
to the wrong hive and get killed.
A Large CresmAj.
An English exchange says: The
largest creamery is near St. Albans,
Vermont, in the United States.
Twelve thousand cows, owned by 700
farmers, supply it with cream, and
the average daily produce is 10,000
pounds, or five tons, of butter. All
cream receivod is tested in order to
obtain a thorough knowledge of the
amount of butter fat in the
average product of each farm
er’s dairy, and he is paid
daily for the butter value be brings
in. There are fifty-four stations for
receiving the milk, and at these sta
tions the cream is separated, and only
the latter is sent to the factory.
They run a score of churns, each of
which will turn off 600 pounds of
butter in one batch. The butter
working machines are four in num
ber, and ip a very few moments
eighty pounds can be properly worked
and salted. They use a cartload of
salt every two months, and the fac
tory employs sixty hands, besides the
forty on the station's employ force,
to prepare the product.
Absorption in Drained Soils,
The power of land to absorb water
and hold it without injury is greatly
increased by drainago. It is for this
reason that the drain .when first laid
often runs off more water than it
ever does thereafter, while not drain
ing so .wide a space as it dcfcs after
several years use. Taking off the
surplus water in winter allows frost
to penetrate the soil deeper, and this
by spreading its particles enables it
to hold more water. Clover has also
a like effect, with the additional ad
vantage when it has made full growth
that its decaying roots in the subsoil
make natural water courses. The
deepening of soil by these means is
greatly increased by the use of the
subsoil plow. With a field clovered,
drained and subsoiled there need be
little fear of drought, as the soil will
hold water enough to tide over the
dryest seasons.—American Cultiva
tor.
Mock Notes.
Keep no horses' on the farm for
show. Make every one earn its liv
ing, or sell it.
When a hog is ready for the mar
ket it should go to market. Keeping’
fat hogs for better prices seldom
pays.
Dehorned cattle can bo kept in a
common stable without partitions.
With dehorned cattle, too, all stock
can be pastured together.
Grease and carbolic acid make a
good composition for lice on stock.
A pint of grease'and one and one-half
tablespoonfuls of carbolic acid.
When tho calf itT once stunted it
never gets over it, mind that. The
only way to get a good cow, bull or
steer is to keep the calf growing all
the time.
Never buy a calf without learning
what its ancestry was. Even if the
calf is not thoroughbred, and its an
cestry was good, there is a fair
chance of its being good.
The man who sells a horse with a
false pedigree can be and ought to be
sent to the penitentiary. It is said
that one of this sort is now wearing
stripes in one'of our prisons.
Household Helps. " ‘ <
A woman is just as much entitled
to the best washing machine and
wringer*,or a good churn, etc.,as her
husband is to labor saving machin
ery.
If John likes good cool milk, firm
butter, etc., ho will get his wife a re
frigerator or ice chest if she will
bring the matter forcibly to his at
tention. \
Women need to exercisb prudence
on wash day. Going out from a hot
room bareheaded, or with bare arms
to hang out clothes, is surely im
prudent
Most housekeepers need to be ^fre
quently warned not to hurry or f ?ht
Sometimes it seems actually neces
sary to hurry, but the habit should
be guarded against t
The intelligent mother is very par-l
ticular about who attends to baby.'
Impressions are made on children
very early and very easily and noth
ing but good ones should bo made.
We know women with small fami
lies who hire cooking and washing
done, when their health is suffering
for that kind of exercise. People
are better contented and therefore
much happier when they have, a
reasonable amount of work t& da
Madras curtains seem to go best
with straw mattings in the summer
home. New patterns show pale gold
grounds with deep yellow borders.
An ivory white curtain is sprinkled
with clusters of pinks. These cur
tains are usually finished with ball
| fringe.
There is no nicer "position” for
any woman than that of housekeeper
for the man of her choice. The girl
who is neglecting to learn how to
; cook and keep- house in first-class
, style, will certainly rue it in the
j future. The false notion that house
keeping is not as honorable as a
' clerkship, or some other positions, ia
at a discount with sensible people.
D;DN’T K.88
Tik* WorrIm«nnt
They had been
years yet never htuT h« ^1
from the breakfast tabu? **»«»
ing without a troodh ^,h'»*.
friend came to najj
those cynical, time-sm, th5®~W|
who find fault with 8i Hill
everything, anddeJfdefoVM
that the whole schemo 0» the®»*3
wronsr. m 01 crenui
The friend did not v
the time, although th«
his sense ot the Von^'
waited until ho hart &M
until ho had his k' ^
to speak Th"!
ear, ao to speak. Tho« v4U** ^
“You seem to keeiTthe
'etty well. ? the honev
pretty well,
is over. ’’
Then good, weak Gpm.„n v
get wabbly in his minrt® ^
nzjnsf'x&tHm
U „la. „ J. ^
cigar, “it is rather a bnl i?h.h
“I dare say,” resumed the
‘but I wouldn’t coddle her any
frii
if I were you. It’s to^,^
mestic, you see, for this a*e Z
«4> *”■
the little woman. ” ‘ ea
The little woman, who had»
“^rlittie Anger than .1
had in his whole body, was <Z
surprised when her husband ft
his breakfast napkin on his „
rose in haste and with a arid
“tata, dear,” ran off without thei
tomary salute. But she didn’t
anything, and bided her time,
came sooner than was expected, i
the Detroit Free Press.
George went home at night «j|
out the friend, who had \etan
whence he came. At dinner Gw
was silent and morose, and the lil
woman asked:
“Anything gone wrong to da?!’
“Yes, everything:' Lost'
my vest pocket.”
“Too bad, but it might have
worse. ”
“Then I mislaid some valnal
papers that I carried in the insi
pocket of my coat—it’s just been
of my worrying days, don't >
know. ”
“George,” said the little won
in a calm, sweet voice, don’t
think it all happened because;
went away without a good-byte
I’ve had a worrying day, too, an-J
laid it all to that. ”
“I believe you are right
but I really believe there’s
thing in it.”
“And here’s the money; you dri
ped it on the hall floor in your bun
And the papers are probably in yi
other coat—you know you chain
this morning.”
“That solves it, little woman,” i
George gave her the kiss he 1
omitted in the morning with inten
and if the friend could have seen
he would have gnashed his teet!
but he didn’t.
A LITTLb LESSON.
And tbe Roses Never Caine Back 1
to the Old Florist.
It was'just a little lesson, that
all, but it went right to the spit
He stopped a moment on his n
home to look in a florist’s nindoi
and the florist, who saw him, ash
him inside tb see something fine.
“You don’t buy any more fiowi
now ?” said the florist
“No,” was the response, gi*
good-naturedly, though it was brie!
“And it used to be, a year ago
more, that' roses and violets and i
nations and all sorts were great
tractions to you?”
“Yes, I had a sweetheart then
and the man blushed anti laughed
“You used to take her a Bower e«
time you went to see her, <h
you ?” pursued the inquisitive, kin®
old florist.
“Yes.”
“And they didn’t cost very
as a rule, did they?”
a
“Oh, no, but that didn’t make
difference to her. If I hroug
fresh and fragrant that was eno ,
“Why don’t you take them to “
now? Did she choose another
your stead?” and. the Hons s
was sympathetic. n
“Oh, no; I married her a year
Tho florist waited a moment.
thinking. .
“And don’t you love her now ^
asked, cautiously, as if trea »
thin ice.
— “Of course. We are v
But you know the flower
doesn’t go any more.” a(|
“Did she ever say so? ass
florist t ..n't
..Well—urn—er—no; 1 C8U
iat she did.” scraW
“Have you ever asked b
l?‘No. I never happened
it Busy, you kno^ ,
tofts of things, so ®u
iractical. ” t,ert
' The florist didn t answer^
to a. pot of roses fn“, dc(i tW
aking a handful, he handed
over to his late cu.s*°™°jjjVe ^
-There,” he said, *‘“jd ,;*(
ou in remembrance v0ur wit
fou nught take them * ^.jO
,nd if she doesn t like t
iring them back to me.
But they never came bach.
Profitable F,'^Britil
Profitable t)ie
Complaint is made to ,h
foreign office that n , .on store
foreign Othce ... „ mi.sion51^
.stands tne stock of t . mB book
consists, not of ^lbl®A Toi gin
cases of Did boje;
lags of shot an“ d ri;«
ijon caps for E , • ytted
talar traders comp
T keen competition
Lies in business