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p.?.ttsmoulh Journal
C W. KHEKUAM. Fatlta-r.
1'iAlTbMOVTIL
JiKBRASITA.
AT TH END O' TH' ROAD.
I u bora way back at th end o' th' road.
Twas there my remembrance of taints fink
was.
An there I lived, played, worked an' growod.
Jes natural like an' jes because
I lived
At th' end o' th' road.
At th' end o' th' road 'twas much th' same
This day or that except 'twas play
When up from th' turnpike some one came.
An' jes as lonp as they happened to stay
An talk.
At th' end o' th' road.
If I strayed away I was glad to (ret home
To th' little red house, where mother an' dad
An' I had a little world all our own.
An' jes as good as anyone had.
Out there
At th' end o" the" road.
Prom my attic window I've looked amazed
Hour after hour at th' turnpike's line,
A yellowish streak, till I grew dazed.
Wondering where an In what long time
I d get
At th' end o' th' road.
For where did they come from, th' folks that
went
Jogging along th' old turnpike1
An' most all strangers that I hadn't met;
An' over th' hills what was It like.
Somewhere.
At th' end o' th' road?
One day me an' ma an' dad
Started off with th' old gray mare
On th' longest ride I'd ever bad.
An 'twas almost night when we got there,
I thought.
At th' end o' th' road.
"When I got up next day an' see
The road still winding, winding down.
Twas th' biggest world. It seemed to me.
From where th' end was, through our town
Vp home.
At th' end o' th' road.
I've traveled that road now many a year.
An I've found some good an' found
soma
bad:
Borne up hill an' down, an' I'm not clear
If I will be sorry or I will be glad
To get
At th' end o' th' road.
Walter M. Hazeltine. in Good Housekeep
ing UNDER STRESS.
How an Urgent Suitor Won
Widow in a Railway Train.
The Comtesse de Moncley who will
soon change her name, as you Khali
eee is one of the most delicious wid
ows imaginable, and also one of the
cleverest I have ever met. From the
very first day she knew precisely how
to avoid any exaggeration that could
be considered bad taste in the expres
sion of her sorrow, without falling
into the other extreme and making
those who saw her in her widow's
weeds think she must wear red satin
under her crape.
Early in April she had quietly left
her Paris apartment, where no male
visitor had set foot since her husband's
death, and it was only by accident
that, a week later, I discovered the ad
dress she had so carefully concealed
from everyone. It was "Sycamore
Villa, Chantilly." On the first of
May there might have been seen to ar
rive at a little bit of a house, situated
at a convenient distance from Syca
more villa, several trunks, an English
cart and pony, a saddle-horse, a buil
terrier, two servants, and a man bor
dering on thirty. That man was my
self. I hasten to add that, in this circum
stance, I acted solely at my own risk
and peril, without any authorization,
anv riirht whatever, and with no
j o
other motive than my love my
profound love to prompt me to
hope that my change of domi
cile would not be a dead loss. Ah,
well nothing venture, nothing win.
And what did I venture? The salon,
the May fetes, the Grand Prix, the
mob in the Alle des Poteaux. a few
balls what were they in comparison
with the charms of a most attractive
neighborhood? I have known men to
cross the seas and spend fortunes to
follow to the ends of the world ad
venturesses whose whole body was not
worth the tip of Mme. de Moncley's
little finger.
Clarisse's pretty anger when I pre
sented myself at her house, on the day
of my arrival, was my first delightful
recompense. In spite of her grand
air, I saw that she was touched, and I
doubt if ever lover experienced so
much pleasure in being- shown the
door by a pretty woman. She took
her time about it, too. and only pushed
me into the street after a regulation
philippic, to which I listened very
humbly, replj-ing only so much as was
necessary to lengthen the lecture,
which concluded in these words:
"And now you will do me the favor
to return to Paris. The train leasts
in an hour."
"An hour!" I objected, timidly.
That is hardly time to ship two horses
and a carriage and throw up a lease "
"What is this!" she cried. "A lease!
You have presumed to go, sir! AY hat
audacity! A lease! And, if j-ou please,
where Is your house?"
"A long distance from here," I has
tened to reply; "at the other end of
the forest. I am sure it must have
taken me fully three-quarters of an
hour to come here."
To be precise, it had taken me about
five minutes.
"To think," she exclaimed, "what a
poor woman, deprived of her protector,
is exposed to! You would not have
dared to do this if my husband were
still alive. And to think that he con
sidered 30U his best friend! Poor
Charles'."
"I'.e has never had any cause to com
plain," I murmured. "Let us talk to
gether of him."
"Never!"
"Then let us talk of ourselves, that
will be better still."
This suggestion shocked her so that
it took me a long time to calm her.
Finally, she did not wish to let me go
without having sworn never to set foot
in her house again. It is needless to
toay that it took half an hour to per-
tip a pot of gold dust, buried there a I f-Q e ,
snade me to make this promise which
I broke the next morning and as often
as possible.
I pass over the months that fol
lowed, merely declaring- that in this
rale of tears there is no more happy
lot than that of such an unhappy lover
as I was. Clarisse hadthe most ador
able way of annihilating- me with a
look from her blue eyes e3es that
were intended for quite another pur
pose than annihilating- whenever she
saw that I was g-oing- to fall on my
knees before her, and I must confess
she taw it at least ten times during
every visit I made her, still in despite
of her express prohibition. And when
I so far forg-ot myself as to tell her,
if the intent were as pood as the deed,
the late lamented ought to have a
heavy grudge against "his best friend."
seeing that I had loved his wife madly
from the very first.
"Not another word," she would say,
severely; "you blaspheme against
friendship. Poor Charles!"
And her white, dimpled hand would
pitilessly stop my mouth, to that, if I
had followed my inclination, I would
have blasphemed from morning- till
night like the worst traitor to friend
ship in the world.
The day she left off crape, I profited
by the occasion naturally enough, it
seems to me to propose myself in set
terms as a candidate to succeed poor
Charles. That evening- it was a June
evening-, and the acacias made thn
most of the power which certain vege
tables possess of intoxicating- one
with their perfume that evening-, her
hand did not stop my mouth at all, it
reached for the bell. Clarisse did not
threaten, this time; she acted. I saw
that I was on the point of being- put
out by her servants who consisted of
an old woman -who had been her
nurse and whom I could have bowled
over with a breath. However, it was
no time for airy persiflage. Without
waiting- for Nancy to seize me by the
collar, I took my hat and fled.
When day broke, I had not closed
my eyes; not that the situation seemed
desperate, for I had learned to read
Clarisse's eyes. But, all night long-, I
had repeated over and over again to
m3'self :
"Heaven grant that the little hotel
in the Avenue Friedland is still for
sale! We would ba so comfortable
there."
In spite of this. I was no further ad
vanced when September came, the last
month of my lease. I was no longer
shown the door when I suggested my
candidacy, but Clarisse assumed a
bored air and calmly talked of some
thing else. Between ourselves, I would
rather she rang- the bell, for I divined
that she was thinking-:
"My dear friend, you do not dis
please me; quite the contrary. But
you must confess that, in the solitude
of Chantilly I have scarcely had oppor
tunity to enjoy my widowhood. Let
me see if it is really worthy of its rep
utation. In a year or two we can talk
of your affair."
In a year or two! Pretty and charming-
as she was, Clarisse would have a
score of adorers around her, and ador
ers around the woman one wants to
marry are like flies in milk they may
do' no great harm, but they certainly
do not improve the milk.
Early in September Mme. de Monc
ley informed me one day that she was
g-oing- to Paris on the morrow to have
a look at her apartment.
"I sincerely hope," she added, in a
severe tone, "that you do not think of
accompanying- me."
"How can you sugg-est such a thing?"
said I, with apparent submission.
"You leave at "
"At eight in the evening, as I do not
wish to be seen. I shall send .Nancy in
the afternoon to prepare mv room. Ah,
poor Paris!"'
She no longer said "Poor Charles!" 1
admit that this "Poor Paris!" made me
much more uneasy.
The next evening, at eight o'clock,
the doors of the express train, which
stops hardly a minute, were already
close. Clarisse had not appeared. She
reached the station just as the bell
rang.
"Quick, hurry up, madame!" cried
the railroad official.
"Hurry!" I repeated, opening- a com
partment at random and helping
her in.
But. instead of getting- in, she fell
back, almost fainting-. In my arms.
Here is what she had seen, and what I,
too, had seen over her shoulder: The
seats of the compartment were unoccu
pied, and three men, perched like
monkeys on the backs of the seats,
held to their shoulders three guns.
whereof the barrels shone in the lamp
light like cannons. One of them, as
we opened the door, had shouted in a
terrible voice: "Don't come in. for "
I had closed the door so quickly that
we had not heard th; end of the sen
tence. Then Clarisse and I bundled
ourselves into the next compartment
without quite knowing- what we were
doing. The train was already under
way. We were alone. Mme. de Moncley
seemed half dead with fear, and I must
confess I was violently shaken.
"Did j-ou see them?" she cried.
"What can be happening in that com
partment? They are going to fight
to kill each other! AYhat terrible trag
edy is to be enacted right beside us?"
"I don't understand it at all," I re
plied. "Only one explanation seems
possible to me. They are hunters who
have suddenly gone crazy. Other
wise, why should they climb upon the
i seats?
If they siniplv wanted to kill
1 each other, thev could do it without all
that gyinna
gymnastics.
"No." suggested Clarisse, "it is some
dreadful American kind of duel. In
such a case, it seems, they climb up on
anything they can find. But why
didn't they stop them at Chantilly?"
"The train itself scarcely stopped
here."
"Did vou hear how they called out
'Don't come in!'? The wretches, they
don t want to tie disturbed while they
are killing themselves. Goodness".
Just listen!"
The fusillade had commenced right
beside us. Several gun-shots had
sounded, dominated by a shrill piercing-
cry, which still riis In my ears.
on on
perate
Then a deathly silence ensued: they"
were all dead, however bad shots they
might have been.
Though we were making about fifty
miles an hour at the time, I made
ready to get out upon the step and find
out what was goirjg on in our neigh
bors compartment. As I lowered the
window two arms seized mc and a voice
broken with anguish but which
sounded very sweet, just the same
gasped behind me:
"Philip, if vou love me, do not go!
They will kill you!"
It was precisely like the fourth act
of "The Huguenots," except that my
name is not RaouL
I saw the advantage of my situation,
and I resolved to profit by it- I profited
by it so well that, after a dialogue too
intimate to be repeated here, I was in a
position to sing if I had had a voice.
which I haven't: "Thou-on ha ast said
it."
For she bad said it. Foor Charles
was distanced now. She had said the
sweet words: "I love j-ou."
A prey to emotions bordering on the
hysterical, Clarisse sobbed and clung
to me with all her strength, though I
had not the faintest desire to intrude
on the massacre next door. They
could kill themselves at their ease.
Let every man tend to his own affair.
As for me, I was very much occupied
just then.
That is why, early the next morning,
I hurried to my lawyer tosp?ak to him
about the little hotel in the Avenue
Friedland, which was still for sale,
but, thank fortune, is now no longer
in the market. Decorators and fur
nishers are at work in it, and when
January comes, you will see it occu
pied by a certain young couple that I
know of.
But let us not anticipate. When the
train pulled into the city, my compan
ion and I had quite forgotten our
neighbors, or what was left of them;
but now the authorities must be in
formed and the bodies removed. I had
jumped out, and was looking about for
a tergeant de tuU, when I beheld the
door of the famous compartment open
and the three hunters calmly descend
from it, carrying, rolled up in a rug,
an inert mass which looked as if it
might be the body of a young child.
Without an instant's hesitation, I
seized one of the assassins by the col
lar. "Scoundrel!" 1 cried. "What have
you got in that rug?"
"Don't make such a row," he replied,
"or we'll have a hundred people at our
backs. It is only my poor dog. "
"Dog!" I repeated, indignant at the
man's coolness. "Come, come, you
cannot deceive me, I saw it all."
My captive, whom I still held by the
collar, opened a corner of the rug and
showed me a setter's muzzle, with
flecks of foam ou it dappled with
blood. I dropped my hold on the man's
collar in the greatest confusion.
"Ileally, I scarcely know how to
apologize," 1 said. "But, frankly, it is
not astonishing that I should have
been deceived three men crouching
on the seats of the carriage and shoot
ing" "Still, the explanation is verj- simple.
My dog was bitten three weeks ago.
I had the wound cauterized, and
thought the animal was saved. We
had been hunting all day near Creil,
but, no sooner were we on the train
than hydrophobia developed and the
animal began to snap at us. To at
tempt to put the beast out was to
tempt death, and there was nothing
for it but for us to climb up on the
seats and shoot the dog. We were not
able to do so until after we left Chan
tilly, for the poor brute had taken
refuge under the seat. Finally, by
calling it, I persuaded it to put its
head out. and then we shot it. I tell
you. it s a trip l snail not soon lorgei.
"Nor shall I," I replied, and I re
joined Clarisse, who was waiting for
me at a little distance and whose curi
osity was vastly excited to see me thus
politely take leave of the assassins.
"Well, then." she said, making a lit
tle face when I had told her the story,
that doesn't count. I take back what
I said."
But at the same time she softly
squeezed my arm with her own. and I
saw in her eves that "that" did
"count." From the French of Leon de
Tinseau, in San Francisco Argonaut.
A PUZZLED WAITER.
Sad
Kesult of Attempting to Speak m
I-angaa;;e He Uidn't Know.
A correspondent who has returned
from the Antwerp exhibition, narrates
an adventure which befell two English
men there. He says: "Two very pre
sentable, well-dressed centlemen, who
bore the stamp of Englishmen in face,
figure, clothes and easy-going air, en
tered the restaurant where I was sit
ting, and one of them called out in
self-confident tones, which could be
heard easily at the neighboring tables,
what undoubtedly intended to be
'Garcon! Deux bocks,' but which
sounded: 'Gassong! too bo.' 'Oui, mon
sieur,' replied the waiter, as he rushed
into the inner room.
"The two gentlemen engaged in ami
cable conversation over the table for
about five minutes, when it struck
them that the waiter was a long time
with their beer. 'Gassong!' was again
shouted. 'Oui, monsieur,' answered the
waiter. 'Lay too do, si voo play. Oui,
monsieur, tout do suite,' replied the
Belgian, and once more rushed into the
other apartment. Again the two Eng
lishmen engaged in conversation for
five or six minutes, and again one of
them shouted indignantly: 'Gassong!
lay too bo!'
"The waiter rushed behind the scenes
with more violence than ever, and in
two minutes returned with a triumph
ant face to place before the astonished
visitors tvo plates of boiled turbot.
They looked at the man and next at
the fish and then, with the help mo-
of signs than of words, managed txj
explain to the waiter that they wanted
beer bocks not turbot. The situa
tion was an embarrassing one for all
concerned, and I could not help think
ing that something should be done at
home to prevent ray company abroad
meeting with such inconveniences."
London Telegraph.
Satur -
had absconded
"wTthl rth-eir- fundsTT -n'"V"
$4 80. The "commo- rver coiamii
. 3 ! .....-) . : r
their
amountine to
PERSONAL AND LITERARY.
A man there was and they called
him mad; the more he gave, the more
he had. Bunyan.
The country home of Miss Margot
Tennant (now Mrs. Asquith), and her
sisters used to be known among the
men who were entertained there as
"Chateau Margot." The young ladies
exceled in walking on stilts.
When Earl Ferras had been con
victed of murder, great efforts were
made to obtain a pardon, on the ground
that he was insane. His mother being
applied to, and requested to write a
strong letter on the subject, answered:
"Well, but if I do, how am I to marry
off my daughters."
The engagement of M. Ernest Car
not, the second son of the assassinated
French president.to Mile. Chiris,daugh
ter of the senator of the Alpes-Mari-times
department, is announced. Presi
dent Carnot had two other sons, Sadi,
an officer of infantry, and Francois, a
pupil engineer in the Ecole Centrale, at
Paris.
In Kansas there is a woman who
has a forty-three-year record in news
paper work, and she is only fifty-five
now. She is Mrs. N. E. Bronston. of
Atchison. She began her extended
journalistic career in her father's office
in Newport, Ky., and since then has
been connected with half a dozen Kan
has papers.
Eider Haggard has been suggesting
that journalism ought to be controled
by regulations modeled on those which
govern the clerical, legal and medical
professions. Before becoming a jour
nalist a man ought to subscribe to
thirt3'-nine or more articles and puss
an examination. In the meantime a
few journalists might be made, while
a lot of good newspaper men would be
starving to death.
Mrs. Zulme E. Hearsey, of Baton
Rouge, La., is one of the most success
ful business women in the state. After
the close of the war, her husband be
ing an invalid, Mrs. Hearsey opened a
large book-store, which at once sprung
into popular favor, and to-day is the
recognized headquarters for all stand
ard publications, as well as the
rendezvous of all book-lovers and lit
terateurs. She employs a force of
thirt3 newsboys. She also manages a
large floriculture trade.
Eev. John Jasper, of Richmond,
Va., the most noted of all slave preach
ers, is now over eighty years old, and
believes as firmly as he did in 1S78,
when his famous sermon was preached,
that "The Sun Do Move." He recent
ly gave an outline of that celebrated
discourse, which, he says, was com
posed in order to set at rest some
doubts which had arisen in the mind of
a young member of his flock.
The royalties of Europe patronize
the bicycle with as much energy as the
boys of America. The king of the Bel
gians exercises upon one daily, little
Queen Wilhelmina rides one when she
is at her castle of Het Loo, and the
czarowitz, Princes Waldemar and Carl
of Denmark and Princes George and
Nicolas of Greece are all cyclists. The
bicycle of the khedive of Egypt is a
gorgeous machine, almost completely
covered with silver plating. Harper's
Bazar.
HUMOROUS.
Lncie "Well, Walter. I suppose
you are pretty busy now?" W alter
"No, not very. You see vacation hasn't
begun 3-et." Inter Ocean.
Edith "I am so glad, papa, that
auntie gave me a pra3-er book for all
my own, so now 1 can say my prayers
without costing a single cent." New
port Daily News.
Lawyer "It is true that my client
called the plaintiff an ox; but con
sidering the present high price of beef,
I do not consider that a very great in
6ult." Fliegende Blatter.
"Whur ye bin?"' said Meandering
Mike. "Lookin' fur work." replied
Plodding Tete. "Well, you wanter
look out. Yer idle curiosity'll be the
ruination of ye. yit." Washington Star.
"Do you believe in woman's rights?"
she asked the shoe-dealer. "You bet 1
do!" was the reply. "And in woman's
lefts, too; and I've got 'em for two do!
lars and fifty cents a pair." Browning,
King & Co.'s Monthly.
Berkeley Place "Hard luck, old
man. On what grounds did Miss Hites
reject you?" Jack II ill man (absently)
"Why it was on the trescent c.uo
grounds at Bay Ridge last Saturday."
Brooklyn Life.
He (haying nothing better to say)
"Do you approve of short courtships?"
She "Yes; but not too short. I have
onl3 known 3-ou a week but. after all,
what does it matter? Speak to mother,
and I guess it will be all right." N. Y.
Press.
"Talk about lawyers," said the en
thusiastic man. "there are might j- few
of them can hold a candle to old man
Greathead. Why, that man has legal
knowledge by the barrel." "By the
barrel?" exclaimed the cheerful idiot
"I always thought he sold it by the
case." Indianapolis Journal.
Country Living. "The country's
all right," said the housewife from the
city, who had been used to ice boxes,
cool cellars and that sort, "but you
can't keep anything." "You can keep
warm, can't you?" inquired the man.
who hadn't any summer residence prop
erty for sale. Detroit Iree Press.
Hicks "I won ten dollars of Kirby
on a bet that the Eccentric Kod would
print a column article of my composi
tier " Wicks "You don't mean to say
that the Eccentric Kod actually print
ed it?"' Hicks "Yes: you see I took
the precaution to use up the whole col
nmu in praise of its Sunday edition.'
Boston Tianscript.
When the train made its first stop
after leaing home, Mr. Simpkins, who
had been in a brown study for several
minute raised his eyes, which had
trouble? look in them, and remarked
"My datr, are you sure we haven't for-
eotten ijnythiDg? Of course we
haven't." responded the good lady
cheet fully. "I would have thought ol
it the minute the trafj started." De
troit News-Tribune.
ission bilked us out
thn jmnronriation
FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
THAT LITTLE GIRL.
Z often hear folks talking, a-laughlng and
a-talking
About a lit He cirl who "lives not very far
from here:"
One" who's "extremely mussy"
And 'meddlesome" and '-fussy,"
Who "loves to wander through the house and
get things out of gear."
I'm glad I'm not bo mussy
And meddlesome and fussy;
I oannot see why any girl can be so very
queer.
I've Just heard mother Joking, s-scoldmg and
a Joking
About a little girl who "does not live s mile
away."
She says she Is a "midget
Made up of mostly fidget,"
And "from Monday until Sunday she does
nothing else but play."
I'm glad I'm not a "midget
Made up of mostly fidget."
I'm glad I'm not ao little that I cannot quiet
stay.
I once heard papa hinting, a-talking and a-htnte
lng
bout a little girl who "doesn't live up In the
moon."
He says she's "very silly.
And her first came Isn't Billy,"
That she "talks the blessed morning, If SM
doesn't sleep till noon."
I'm triad I am not silly.
Though my first name isn't Billy,
And I hardly ever talk at all, and always "set
tap soon."
I've beard some folks complaining, a-slghlng
and complaining
About a little girl who lives "next door to folks
they know."
They say she's "very lazy,"
She "almost sets them crazy,"
fast she's always "doing nothing and doss 1
very slow."
I'm glad I am not lazy,
I never act folks crazy.
As4 I work so very, very much I've hardly
time to grow.
Claude Harris, In St. Nicholas.
TWO CLEVER POODLES.
One
S mo kod m Pipe, the Other Ban
Boot-Blacking Stand.
Like all representative dogs of dif
ferent countries, the French poodle
possesses some of the characteristics of
his nation. Vivacity and quick intelli
gence are the dog s most prominent
traits.
The brightest poodles I have ever
known, says Stuart Travis, were all
proteges of shopkeepers, old soldiers
and the bourgeois in general.
I nsed to see very often a veteran of
the French wars. This old soldier had
a poodle who was his pipe bearer.
It was a funny sight to 6ee the dog
walking gravely upright on his hind
legs, and taking quick little steps to
keen ud with the martial stride of the
veteran.
Every now and then the man would
take a very black meerschaum pipe
from his lips and give it to the dog.
HE WOCLD FCFF A WAT WITH BF.LISH.
who would take it between his teeth.
brace himself and puff away with evi
dent relish keeping the pipe lit until
it suited his master's pleasure to smoke
again himself.
The weight of the pipe obliged the
dog to lean very far back to keep his
balance. Holding this absurd attitude
in itself was no easy feat, but far more
difficult was his maintaining the erect
position on his hind legs so long.
It did not seem to tire him, however.
for I watched him several times until
out of sight, and never saw him get
down on his forelegs at all, like other
and less accomplished dogs. Indeed,
he seemed to enjoy it and to fully re
alize the dignity of his official position
as pipe bearer.
There was, a few years ago, a boot
black who had a stand on the boul-
vard des Italiennes. This artist owned
a large poodle, who, for professional
reasons, never had his hair cut like
most of his dog brothers.
This remarkable dog would 6it by the
stand in clear weather when business
was dull, his bright eyes watching crit
ically the shoes of the passers-by.
If the dog saw a particularly fine
thine on some dandy's boots he would
dash out. and. before the astonished
pedestrian knew what he was about.
would ruin the polish with a few quick
Jappin's of his large, moist tongue.
Then in half apologetic and persua
sive manner he would try to drag by
the coat-tails his victim towards his
master's stand, so as to have his boots
shined over airain.
He never failed also to bark, to call
his master's attention to the approach
ing customer.
This dog really conducted the whole
business. Curiously, if the weather
was bad and the streets wet, and there
were consequently shoes in plenty to
shine, he would not resort to these ex
treme measures. Boston Globe.
MOUSE AND LION.
They
Scared Each Other In Turn Until
the Little Animal Escaped.
One day a keeper wishing to test the
affection popularly supposed to exist be
tween a Hon and a mouse put a mouse
in the cage of a full-grown Nubian
lion, says McClurc's Magazine. The
lion saw the mouse before he was fairly
through the bars, and was after him
instantly. Away went the little fel
low, scurrying across the floor and
squeaking in fright. When he had gone
about ten feet the lion sprang, lighting1
a littlo in front of him. The mouse
turned, and the lion sprang again.
wasiven' a year's sentence to" the 1 Thursday shaking bands with TneoCH,
penitentiary, over to the penitentiary and boarded a west-bound 13. & SI.
of it
be-
This was repeated several tlaiea, thai
mouse traversing a shorter dlstanoe
after each spring of the lion. It was
demonstrated that a lion is too Quick
for a mouse, at least in a large cage.
Finally, the mouse stood still, squeal
ing and trembling. The Hon stood over,
studying him with interest. Presently
he shot out his big paw and brought it
down directly on tie mouse, but so
gently that the mouse was not injured
in the least, though held fast between
the claws. Then the lion played with
him in the most extraordinary way,
now lifting his paw and lettint? the
mouse run a few inches, and then stop
ping him again as before. Suddenly
the mou.se changed his tactics, and, in
stead of running when the lion lifted
his paw, sprang into the air straight at
the lion's head. The lion, terrified,
gave a great leap back, striking the
bars with all his weight and shaking
the whole floor. Then he opened his
great jaws and roared and roared again,
while the little mouse, stiU squealing,
made his escape. Of the two the lion
was the more frightened. It is a fact
well known in all menageries that a
mouse will frighten an elephant mora
than will a locomotive. Let one appear
in an elephant's stall and the elephant,
his mountain of flesh quivering, his
trunk lashing the air, will trumpet in
abject terror; and he will not recover
for hours afterward. The trainers say
that what the elephant fears is that the
mouse will run np his trunk. There is
a tradition that a mouse really did this
in one instance while an elephant was
sleeping and caused the elephant such
intense pain that he had to be killed.
CARPENTRY FOR BOYS.
A TTall Cabinet Which Can Bo Made tm a
Few Hours.
The illustration shows a simple and
useful wall cabinet that can be made
by any boy. It should be made about
thirty inches long, twenty inches high
and seven or eight inches deep, and
below the bottom shelf the ends of the
sides should project about five inches.
Make the two sides first twenty-five
inches long and eight inches wide.
With a compass saw cut out the brack
et effect at the bottom of each side,
and then make two shelves twenty
eight inches long and eight incbea
WALL CABIXKT.
wide. With these two shelves and the
sides form the framework of the cabi
net, and fasten it together with long
steel wire nails or slim screws.
Next make an upright division piece.
as shown in the illustration, ana
fasten it at top and bottom a distance
of six or eight inches in from one end;
make another shelf and fasten it a lit
tle above the center, between the top
and bottom shelf, making one end fast
to the upright division and the other
to one side of the cabinet, as the draw
ing shows.
Get from a carpenter a piece of
cornice molding about two inches wide
and long enough to go around the
front and sides of the cabinet; mitre
and fasten it around the top, and with,
the addition of a few coats of paint the
cabinet will be completed.
A curtain across the front, arranged
with rings so it will slide on a rod, will
add greatly to the appearance. N. Y.
Recorder.
A LONG FAREWELL.
Why Private "Ooherty Bade His Serjeant
Good-By.
It is said to be an old story, this of a
man named Doherty, who was drilling
... . . . r W
with his squaa 01 recruits in jjonaon.
Doherty was nearly six feet two in
height, and at that time the sergeant
major was a man whose height was
only five feet four. On this day he ap
proached the squad looking sharply
about him for some fault to find.
All the men squared up except
Doherty, and the sergeant-major at
once accosted him.
'Head up there, man!" called he.
Doherty raised his head slightly.
"Up higher, sir!"
The head was raised again. Then
'GOOD-BT, 6EEGEAST."
the sergeant managed, by standing on
his toes, to reach Doherty's chin, and
he poked it higher, with the remark:
That's better. Dont let me see
your head down again!"
By this tune everybody was interest
ed at seeing Doherty staring away
above the sergeant-major's head, when
a voice from above said, in a rich
brogue:
Am I to be always like this, ser
geant-major?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Then I'll say good-by to ye, sergeant-
major, for I'll niver see yez agaia!
A ?:oted Bridge.
Teacher This poem refers to "The
Bridge of Sighs." Do you know what
bridge that is?
Dull Boy Guess there ain't anything
can beat the Brooklyn bridge on. sue.
: Good News.
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