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M. NEWS NOTES.
'ding Littl Chicken.
re haa been no baat way disco v-
for feeding little chlcka. One per-
wlll feed one way and have very
aucceaa and another will puraue
r method of feeding: dlametrl-
oppoaed to the flrat method and
have as good success. One will let
ehlcka get hungry occasionally so
jj may relish their food, and another
Jrer permits them to become hungry.
t do not consider It a aypd plan to
chicks get hungry. The great dim
ity In this will be in determining
tat constitutes keeping chicks a little
ngry. One chick may be a little
.- , jngray and another of the same brood
ry hdngry; It1a attTtght to have
t chicks come to each meal with a
appetite. To determine this re
quires judgment and regularity in
edlng. One way to keep the appetite
Is to have regularity enough in
edlng so that the Intervals between
eals should be long enough to rest
digestive organs, and yet not so
ng that the appetite may become an
hordlnate one, which will cause the
hicks to gorge themselves at the next
neal.
The feeder who employs good Judg
ment will keep his chicks healthy and
will keep the appetite healthy by giv
ing them what they will eat up quick
.and clean of some substantial food, like
johnny cake or cracked corn, and at
the same time will observe them to turn
about and be looking for bugs and
worms. They always have their little
yes open for a bug or bits of grass and
they will keep up the buslneas of forag
ing until their little crops are distended.
They are still a little hungry.
The fact of the matter Is that there
Is a general rule observed by all suc
cessful poultrymen, and while each will
have bis own method, with no two of
them alike, it would seem that there
are many methods of keeping them
.healthy and well fed. The point la to
keep them healthy and growing. If this
can be done on sawdust, all right, but
we scarcely believe that It can be done
that way. The person who lacks meth
od wilt feed In a bungling manner, giv
ing all kinds of Improper foods, giv
ing no opportunity to rest or giving
them a long rest, and soon the little
fellows are joining the great majority.
v
Improving the Farm.
The cause of the Increasing number
of run down farms is from a lack of
knowledge of the primary principles of
agriculture. The land deteriorates
without attracting the attention. This
decline In the farm's fertility is going
n an the time, slowly but surely, and
the amount produced each year be
comes less and the farmer finally
awakes to the fact that his farm is
wearing out, and he knows not how to
top the wear. He keeps up the pro
es,of taking on and hauling to the
market the wheat, corn and oats, pas
tures the stalks with the hogs and
milch cows and these help In the work
t destroying the mechanical condition
of the soil. The straw Is burned In
the wheat field or else Is stacked in
the open yard and the cows eat and
.destroy it as they brave the rigors of
winter. Because of a lack of early
training in the correct principles of
jtood farming he does not see his errors
and the work of reducing the farms
productiveness continues until It gels
a name that makes It practically un
salable.
o Find the Live Weight of Cattle.
There are several methods ot finding
he live weight of cattle, and find the
Mowing the most correct: Measure
e girth around the breast. Just be
nd the shoulder blade, and the length
the back from the tall to the fore
of the shoulder blade. Multiply the
h by the length, and If the girth
less than three feet, multiply the
duct by eleven, and the result will
.the number of pounds. If between
e and five feet, multiply by slx-
If between five and seven feet,
,ipy by twenty-three; If between
11 and nine feet, multiply by thirty-
If between nine and eleven feet,
kipiy by forty.
Note of the Dairy.
klrymen who desire to keep up the
of milk during the coming sum-
.should not only provide some suc-
t food for the period of scant pas-
but should lake care to see that
ws are kept comfortable, and an
point In her comfort is pro-
gt(Bt files. There are a va-
j ot way's in which much can be
In this respect, some or mem oc-
practical under one set of circum
stances and some under another. Khade,
dark stables In midday, applications to
the hair and a variety of other meth
ods ore In vogue. Those suited to one's
conditions should be selected and stud
ied with a view of using them during
the fly season, for whether the yield of
a cow Is large or small will much de
pend upon whether she Is annoyed by
flies or Is protected from them.
Regularity In feeding and milking Is
an Important point In keeping up the
tnllk flow. One cannot milk and feed
4n the morning at any time between
half-past five and half-past nine and In
the evening betwern half-past four and
even,' and expect the cow to do ber
v.ii.-i. .on a
beat. Experiment shows that there Is
a difference of at least 10 per cent be
tween regularity and Irregularity. Hav
ing a regular hour In the mornlg to
. snflk, It will not answer to lie abed
until all hours on Sunday morning. If
teaere sleep Is wanted milk the cows at
the asual time and creep back Into bed
again. Dairying properly conducted Is
'mm exacting employment. There are
- eaany shores abort the farm that two
r three hours earlier or later In doing
a them snakes no particular airrerence,
jp'f milking and feeding the milk sows
LADIES' COLUMN.
NOT WORK BUT WORRY.
(By Ines May Felt. )
It Is not the work, but the worry,
That wrinkles the smooth, fair face,
That blends gray hairs with the dusky,
And robs the form of its grace;
That dims the luster and sparkle
Of eyes that were once so bright.
But now are heavy and troubled,
With a weary, despondent light.
It Is not the work, but the worry,
That drives al( sleep away,
As we toss and turn and wonder
About the cares of the day.
Do we think of the hands' hard labor,
Or the-tiis of tiie tired fet?
Ah! no, but we plan and ponder
How to make both ends meet.
It is not the work, but the worry,
That makes us sober and sad.
That makes us narrow and sordid,
When we should be cheery and glad.
There's a shadow before the sunlight,
And ever a cloud in the blue.
The scent of the roses is tainted.
The notes of the song are untrue.
It Is not the work, but the worry,
That makes the world grow old.
That numbers the years of Its children
Ere half their story is told;
That weakens their faith in heaven,
And the wisdom of God's great plan.
Ah! 'tis not the work, but the worry,
That breaks the heart of man.
THE HAPPY MARRIAGE.
(By Ella Wheeler Wilcox.)
We hear much of unhappy marriages,
but little of the happy ones. The lat
ter bear their fruits as quietly as does
the apple tree, while the former are
attended by all the noise of a tree
crashing to the ground. It Is because
happiness in marriage is quiet and self
contained, and matrimonial infelicity is
too often loud-spoken, that Inexperi
enced or superficial persons are apt to
acquire a distorted Idea of the whole
institution of marring., i little horn
blowing from the army of husbands
and wives who are happy in their mar
ired Jives would be useful in keeping
false Impressions of matrimony from
the minds of the youthful, and I am
glad of an opportunity to sound a little
blast myself.
My own happy marriage and close ob
servation of the lives of others has
made me feel well qualified to speak
on this subject. I am convinced that
there is a much greater volume of
happiness in marriage than those
whose matrimonial knowledge is ob
tained chiefly from the newspapers and
gossips would suppose. As a matter of
fact, there are more successes than
failures in this vital relationship of
life. The number of failures Is small
compared 10 the Immense number of
marriages. But It would be very much
smaller than It is, if men and women
were less selfish. The married condi
tion in its essence Is one of mutual ad
vantage and mutual surrender, and is
thrown completely out of balance by
attempts on either side to enjoy, the
benefits without yielding equal ones to
the other.
To the young couple beginning mar
ried life, I cannot say more, in a gen
eral way, than this: Be unselfish In
your relation with'' one another. Con
sider not merely the physical comfort
and well-being, but also the feelings
of the other half of the family. Give
Individual prejudices or even peculiari
ties a little room, remembering that you
have them yourself, although yours do
not, of course, seem like peculiarities
to you. Your husband has his own
sphere that of business. Do not en
tirely surrender your own sphere to
him, except where the common good
of both demands it. Retain your Indi
viduality of thought and action; he will
respect and admire you the more fur it.
There is such a thing as a husband and
wife seeing too much of one another.
I think there Is more danger of disas
ter In early marriages than In those
contracted at full maturity. The youth
ful choice is apt to be unwise. The
man whom a girl thinks she loves at
17 would rarely appeal to her so strong
ly If she were twenty-five, and the girl
whom a young man of 21 believes he
would like to marry wuuid prubaliiy nut
hp his selection if he were 30. A knowl
edge of the world before marriage Is
conducive to contentment afterwards.
The most unfortunate unions I have
known were formed while the husband
and wife were still In early youth. The
man when he assumes the responsibility
of matrimony before he has reached
maturity, has had little or no experi
ence In the typical, bachelor life, and
Its attractions are likely to seem much
greater to him than If he has already
tested thorn. The wife who was mar
ried early also feels the temptation to
taste of life beyond the prosaic domestic
circle, although usually In less degree
than the man, Bhe has not experi
enced enough of ball room and summer
resort flattery to have wearied of It and
to have become cognizant of Us empti
ness. There seems U her to be gayely
in life which she whose youth has been
devoted to home duties has never
known, with the result that she, as well
as her husband, becomes restless. Un
less there are strong ties and will
power to keep a husband and wife who
are In this mental condition to the road
which leads away from this temporary
unrest, they may stray Into bypaths
which lead to dissatisfaction and utl
mate misery.
Miss Josle Wanous of Minneapolis has
been chosen third vice president of the
American Pharmaceutical association,
being the flrat woman to hold office In
that body. Miss Wanous. who owns a
successful drug store In Minneapolis,
holds a leading place In the ranks ot
the pharmacists of the county.
FRILLS OF FASHION.
Suede gloves In the rare tint of old
lace are the novelty of the moment.
Cameo buckles and buttons are re
vived again with great effect on some
of the new gowns made by the smartest
dressmakers.
Borne of the newest Mexican leather
goods are very handsome. They com
bine several kinds of work, including
carving and painting In beautiful col
ors and designs.
For boating, yachting and mountain
wear inexpensive suits are made of
Russian linen crash of ecru flax shades.
They are slightly rough, but coul and !
very strong and durable.
A shepherdess bat of cream -colored
fancy straw is trimmed with pale blue
tuliu and hyd rangea blossoms of fa t 1
ural slxe and coloring. The effect of '
the pinkish lilac shades against the !
folds and loops of airy blue tulle is
charming.
Enameled Jewelry has come back to
us again more beautiful than ever in
the belt buckles, either turquoise blue,
emerald green or red, oval in shape
and quite plain if you like. Some of
them are ornamented In filigree de
signs or with flowers and birds.
The perennial Eton and bolero jack
ets take a very prominent place among
the dominating styles of the summer.
As far as the jackets themselves are
concerned, their prototypes can be
found among the Hungarian prints of
the sixteenth century, on treasured
hand-paintings, on Watteau fans,
paintings of Queen Elizabeth, Hugue- j
not portraits and so on down to the
present time.
Mohair is the favorite material for
bathing suits in black, blue and gray
trimmed with a band of white mohair
striped with braid. The collars are
wide, revers shape In front, pointing
down at either side of the braid trim
med vest and the bands in the skirt are
out in Inverted scallops on the upper
edge. There is the same full waist with
a belt and the puffed sleeves of the
last season.
FOR THE TABLE.
White Mountain Cake One and one
half cups sugar, one-half cup t utter,
one-half cup corn starch, one-half cup
sweet milk, one and one-half cups flour,
two teaspoons baking powder, white of
six eggs.
Railroad Cake Break two eggs In a
cup, fill up with sweet cream. One cup
of sugar, one and one-half cups of
Hour, one teaspoonful cream tartar,one-hulf-teaspoonful
soda, a little nutmeg
and a little salt
Celery Sauce Is easily made, and Is
appetizing. Cut the celery in small
pieces, and boil until It is tender; then
add half a pint of cream, salt and pep
per ,and a small lump of butter rolled
In flour; let these all Just boil; spice,
or a small pinch of curry powder may
be added if you choos.
Breakfast Muffins Set a rising as for
bread over night. In the morning, ear
ly, warm a pint of milk and beat into
the dough sufficient to make It as for
ordinary muffin batter; beat well for
five or ten minutes and set to rise for
breakfast. Bake in rings on a very hot
giiddle, and turn frequently to prevent
burning.
Ginger Lemonade Take half a cup
of vinegar, one cup of sugar, two tea
spoonfuls of ginger; stir well together;
put in a quart pitcher and fill with ice
water. If one wants it sweeter or
sourer than these quantites make it,
more of the needed Ingredients may be
put in. It is a cooling drink, and al
most as good as lemonade, some pre
ferring it.
Oocoanut Cake One cup sugar, one.
half cpu butter, one-half cup sweet
milk, one and one-half cups flour, two
teaspoons baking powder, white of four
eggs. Bake in three layers. For Icing,
beat one egg to a stiff froth, thicken
with powdered sugar and dessicated co
coanut. Spread the layers, and sprin
kle additional cocoanut thickly over the
top layer.
Farmers' Fruit Cake Soak three cups
of dried apples over night in warm
water. Chop slightly In the morning
and simmer two hours In two cups of
molasses. . Add two well-beaten eggs,
one cup of sugar, one cup ot butter, one
dessertspoonful of soda, flour enough
to make rather & rt.ff batter. Flavor
with nutmeg and cinnamon te the
taste. Bake In a quick oven.
Honed Chicken This Is nice for pic
nics. Flist take out the breast-bone;
then remove the back with a sharp
knife, and next the lejj bpe; keep
the skin unbroken, and push within It
the meat of the legs. Fill ths-body with
alternate layers of parboiled tongue,
veul forcemeat, the liver of the fowl,
thin slices of bacon, or aught else of
good flavor which will give a marbled
abearance to the fowl when Berved;
then sew up and truss as usual.
Corn Chowder Cut half a pound of
salt pork In little slices not more than
an Inch squnre; slice four onions very
thin, es If you were to fry them; boll
the pork and onions for twenty minutes
In two quarts of water; cut six medium-sized
potatoes in rather thick
slices, so they will keep their shape;
add them to the soup and boll ten min
utes (meanwhile scald one quart of
milk; after the potatoes have boiled add
one quart can of corn, and lastly the
milk, and let all come to a boil; cover
the bottom of the soup dish with but
tered crackers, and pour the soup over
them. Follow the directions carefully,
and you will succeed. Clam chowder
can be made In the same way, using
soft -shelled clams., chopped fine, and
omitting the corn.
General housework girls of Decatur,
III., are holding meetings for the pur
pose of bettering the condition of this
class of workers. It Is stated that a
union will be organised.
THE LOYE OF GOLD.
Tom Jenkins ran his hand through
the gold that lay htaped on the floor
of the shack. "Seems to me, Billy,"
he said slowly, "that hopln' to find it is
bett'n flndin' it."
Dull gleams of light from a smoky
lantern fell athwart the face of the
old miner, rugged, homely, deep-furrowed
by time and hardships, and offer
ing a marked contrast indeed to the
handsome, patrician features of Billy
Eailey, his junior partner.
"Findln', Billy, means quittin. It's
an end to the wants an' privations I've
knowed for nigh twenty year. But
somehow, I've come to like these still
ole mountains, an' the singin' of the
pines, an' the river. They're growed
like friends, an' I'm never lone?om
among 'em. Listen! you can hear 'em
now. Maybe it's the las' time' they'll
ever sing fer me."
"We're goin' back to civilisation,"
eontinued Tom, unheeding the other's
lack of sympathy with his reminis
cent mood, "an' that means separa
tion. I know you like me, Billy. A feller
couldn't want a better partner than
you have been fer the two year I've
knowed you. But with yer eddication,
an' yer young blood, an' yer ambitions,
you ain't my kind in civilisation. We
can't be the same down there. I couldn't
expect It. But I think a powerful deal
of you, Billy. I"
"Oh, come, Tom," broke In his com
panion, impatiently, "you're In the
dumps tonight. Take a drink and brare
up. Should think you'd look on the
bright side of things now. We've worked
and starved in these cursed wilds for
gold until at last we've got It. Think of
the city's ten thousand pleasures that
this stake can buy for us. There's no
life In these damned solitudes. It's
there in the crowded streets, and It can
all be ours when we've got such a god
the god of gold to see us through."
Billy lajghed gloatingly in anticipa
tion. Then once more he fixed his eyes
with a glittering intensity on the yel
low heap which meant for him all that
life can mean to a selfish, love-lack
nature.
"But It ain't for me," persisted Tom.
"I'm past them things. If it wan't
fer the hope of findin' the old woman
down there in 'Frisco an" makin' her
comfortable, I'd stay. I don't care fer
the gold after all. I've found it, an
my hungerin' fer it's satisfied."
Billy made no answer. He had long
since become resigned to the diversity
ot their tastes, and tonight he was in
no mood for argument. He got out some
materials and began to repair a rent
in his coat. Tom rose presently, and
dumped the nuggets into a gunnysack.
Then he arranged his blankets for the
night.
"Put It away safely, Billy," he said,
Jocularly; "we're already on the edge
of civilization, an' must learn to be
pertlcular."
"I'll look after it, never fear," said
the other, shortly; "good night"
Billy finished his task, but his mind
was still busy with thoughts of the
future. He rose end stepped out itno
the night. At his feet the turbulent
river rushed blackly along, its foam
crests gleaming like dull silver in the
clear starlight. Behind him towered In
silent mystery the rugged, wooded
mountains. The air was heavy with
the breath of the pines. But Billy saw
none of the beauty of the night. The
mountains awakened memories of hard
ships and hopelessness; the river was
only a highway of civilization. He lit
his pipe and began to pace up and
down the shelving shore.
There was none of the stuff of which
heroes are made In Billy Bailey's com
position. Had the fates seen lit to con
tinue their kindly beginning, he would
probably have developed Into one of
the horde of whlted sepulchers that so
largely make up what the world Is
pleased to term the respectable of hu
manitythose who observe the conven
tions to the letter, Indulge every desire
with a studied care that wins the ap
proval of men, and dying are respect
fully burled and Bpeedlly forgotten. On
the contrary, fate had prefered giving
Billy a chance to prove his mettle. His
college career cut short by the melting
away of his father's fortune, he awoke
one morning to find himself face to face
with the world his v.Its his only capi
tel. He remembered tonight his struggle
to maintain his social position; the
slights heaped upon him by erstwhile
boon companions; the gradual sinking
away of hope, until, with starvation
staring him In the face, he had shipped
In a vessel bound '"round the horn." On
his lips were curses for the friends who
had failed him! in his heart a resolve
some day to retaliate. He recalled his
hardships on the western frontlet, hts
flnal falling In with Tom Jenkins, and
the hopeless search for gold until a
week ago, when the gravel of a drlnd-up
mountain stream unexpeoted'y yielded
them their foitune and ended for him
the hell-on-earth existence In these soli
tudes, His future course was plain.
Mercilessly he would engage In the
war for wealth. His heart must know
but one love the love of gold.
And the stake! It was not so much
after all. If he only hnd Tom's share,
too! The thought startled him and he
looked furtively about, as though al
ready under surveillance. Well, why
not? What was, Tom to him now? The
old man cared nothing for gold he had
said as much. Why not begin the task
of wealth-gathering tonight and double
his fortune by a single coup? The sklft
was all ready for the morrow's Journey
down the river. He could easily reach
North Fork by d.iylight, and miles of
distance would He between htm and
Tom before the hitter could make the
trip across the almo-t Impasoble moun
tain trail. He weakened for a moment
as he thought of Tom's almost motherly
sollcitude.of how throughout their wan
derings the big-hearted miner had
borne the brunt of the struggle. Even
when the treasure was discovered the
old man's first words were: "I'm glad
for your sake, Billy." Then he asked
himself if he, too, was growing senti
mental, and tonight, of all nights, on
the very eve of battle.
He walked back to the house. Tom
was fast asleep. The flickering light of
the lantern fell aslant the corner where
he lay, his powerful form half swathed
In the tattered blankets, his brawny
arms thrown above his bead. The face,
from which sleep seemed to have
smoothed away the deep furrows, mir
rored the rugged honesty of his heart.
But the touching picture meant nothing
to bi'ly.wnbwaraiedlhesTeeper TofTn
instant and then proceeded to put his
cowardly scheme Into effect. It was
but the work of a few minutes to gather
together the things necesary for the
short Journey down the river and to se
cure the treasure for safe transporta
tion. There was a look of cunning
triumph on his face as he completed
his preparations. He was thinking of
the surprise awaiting Tom, who had
been "fool enough to believe in human
friendship."
He made a cautious step toward the
door of the shack, when a slight noise,
real or fancied, caused him to glance
back over his shoulder. The next In
stant the bag of gold crashed to the
floored, while Billy sank on his knees,
as though felled by a blow. Tom was
sitting bolt upright in bed, his revolver
leveled at Billy's heart.
The two gazed at each other a mo
ment in utter silence. Billy's eyes, fixed
j with the penetration born of despair,
scanned the old man's face and read
there reproach and pity, rather than a
thirst for swift r vnge. This somewhat
reasured him, and he rose to his feet.
"Well," he said bluntly, "what do you
intend to do?"
"So," said Tom with a long breath,
"I wuz mistook In you, after all. To
think that I give you my friendship
an' you wa'n't worth it. What be I
going to do? What do men usu'lly do
when a pardner turns thief?"
"You wouldn't shoot me, Tom?"
"Why not? Men's been killed for
less 'an this, an' the world wus well
red of 'em."
Then it did mean death.
As Billy realized this his face turned
ashen pale, while a palsying terror
struck through him, rending his
bravado mask and revealing him as the
pitiable dastard he was. He cowered
before the old man, pleading hysteri
cally. (3-
"Oh, spare me, spare me, Tom. Tou
said you cared nothing for gold, while
I I was mad with love of it It is my
god my heaven my everything. But
take it, take It all only give me my
life Tom I I can't die."
"Git up," commanded the other,
coldly; "don't make me despise you
worse'n I. do. What would you do If
you wuz in my place? Shoot, wouldn't
you? Tou'd kill me now, if yon had
the chance."
"But think, Tom, what life means to
me, Billy. I'm young and
"Think what friendship meant to me,
Billy. I'm old."
In the momentary silence that fol
lowe dthe pines and the river could be
heard singing their old, old song, un
heeding of the strife of mortals for a
scrap of the treasure they guarded. Tom
heard the song and his bitterness
seemed to go out with the weird mel
ody. The hand that held the weapon
dropped listlessly to his side.
"I'll spar' yer life," he said hoarsely;
"yeu kin go."
Billy stood a moment as though he
had not heard.
"Yer free. Go!" said Tom.
The boy glanced from the old man
to the bag of gold, and then turned
slowly toward the doorway.
"You better take yer pile now," said
Tom, quietly, "as I reckon you won't
be comin' bask."
"Do you mean it?" gasped Billy.
"Certainly; half's yourn, ain't It?
Tliere's only one thief in this camp,
an' it ain't me."
Tom proceeded to open the bag, and
roughly divided the contents.
xuu CctM Lunu wvj.f 4
with your half. As fer me," he added.
In voice that wavered In spite of him
self, "I'll do what I'd 'a' done if you'd
robbed me. I'll stay awhile longer with
the mountains an' the river. They're
uncertain sometimes, an' someUm's
they're dangerous, but mostwise they're
better'n men."
Billy vaguely appreciated the nature
of the man with whom he was dealing,
yet he felt that such nobleness required
some acknowledgment. He sprang for
ward and tried to grasp the old man's
hand.
"No, no not that!" cried Tom, fierce
ly. "Don't touch me. That gold Is
yourn. Take It and go. But quickly,
Billy fer God knows I'm only hu.
man." Leavenworth Macnab In the
Argonaut " y
The bible was not circulated In Cuba
until 18S2. In that year he American
Church Missionary society built at Ma
tanzas the first Episcopal church In
Cubs, Blnce the war began the build
ing hns been turned Into a vaudeville
theater. . The desecration seems espe
cially awesome when one considers that
the worshipers called themselves the
"Faithful of Jesus" congregation and
their meeting place was located on "St.
John of God" street
Twenty-five thousand dollars Is the
prise offered by the Rabbath associa
tion of Maryland for the best 1,000-word
article on the advantages of a change
of pay day from Saturday to Monday.
October II Is the limit of time. .
wokkx op xtrtxiaaB
Seaietblng Abvat Tbair !Hmd af Breast
ami I'hv.r Maya ut Metaa'
In referring to the ways and'
of Zanzibar, H. E. Mansfield, ex-United
State consul at that place, aaya that
oi;e at the must picturesque feature
was the veritable Rebecca at the well.
At almost any hour of the day
crowJs of half-clad women, dressed in
gayly-colored costumes, can ite seen at
the wells and hydrants, drawing water,
which they put into tin cans or earthen
pots that will hold about six gallons
each. When the vessels are filled they
are hoisted upon the heads of the car
riers, who march along uader the bur
den as erect and graceful as an athlete
Jtaiild move Abo ;;L unencumbered, AU
the water supply for the 175,000 inhab
itants of Zanzibar is carried upon ,tb
heads of women. ,
I have frequently seen a natiye worn-
an carrying as many as three water
pots upon her head, one on the top of
the other, and each standing at a differ
ent angle. Each of the vessels would
hold several gallons of water, and with
them all filed, she would inarch along,
balancing them so perfectly that not a
drop would be spilled- I have also
seen one of those water carriers balance
a six-gallon Jar, filled with water, on
her head, while she was engaged in
other tasks that required the use ot
both her hands, and at the same time
place her in a stooping position. The)
head was so poised as to maintain the
equilibrium of the Jar. This practice)
of carrying articles on their heads haa
given the women of Zanzibar a Una
muscular development of the neck and
shoulders, as well as an erect and
graceful carriage.
The Arab women, very few of whom
are seen on the streets, wear a kind of
pajama, a robe of colored materials, a
veil, or sometimes a silk handkerchief
folded and fastened across the brow a
I'ldienne. An embroidered waistcoat
and the "barakoa," or gilt mask of
Muskat, reaching nearly to the month,
are common, also, while over all this
is thrown a large, square piece of silk
fabric, which ia draped gracefully about
the form. Sandals, or wooden clogs,
held by a strap or a button between
the toes, complete the costume. The
Hindoo women dress similar to the
Arabs, except that they wear mora
gaudy fabrics and more ornaments.
The costume of the native women,
while less elaborate and expensive, is
quite as picturesque. It consists of two
pieces of cotton cloth, usually of special
pattern, with large figures, variedind
bright colors. These kangas, as they
are called, are made especially for the
Zanzibar trade, and their like is found
no place else in the world. One pieca
of cloth is drawn tightly around the
body, just below the arms, and ,. is
deftly and securely fastened without
the aid of any pins or buttons. Native
women never wear anything mv their
feet Many of them decorate their
faces with paint The women of Zanzi
bar wear rings in their ears. They ahw
wear nose rings and nose studs. Civil
ized women wear gold and silver bands
on their wrists so also do the natives
of Africa. They even go farther, and
wear anklets. In fact, a native wom
an's social standing Is gauged by the
amount of Jewelry sho wears, and many
of the gold and silver ornaments they
wear are handsome In design and ar
.tistic in finish. The eeml-barbarous
African women tries to make herself
beautiful by the arrangement of her
kinky hair. She will spend hours with
a small hand-glass, arranging her hair
kind admiring herself. Washington
Star.
Wellloston Was a Good Sleeper.
Wellington, fan one occasion started.
Sir Herbert Maxwell tells us, at 7 a. m,,
rode to a place 28 miles distant, here
held a review, and was taken back at
the place from which he had started
for dinner between 4 and 5 p. m., says
Gold'in Smith In the Jus Atlantic
He galloped 26 miles and back to sea
whether damage had been done to a
pontoon train. He rode 17 miles in
two hours from Freneda to Cludad
Rodrigo, where he dined, gave a ball
and supped; was In the saddle attain at
3 a. m.; galloped back to Frrneda fcy
6, and was doing business again at
noon. He rose regularly at 6, and wrote
till 9, and after dinner wrote aaln from
9 till 12. It must be essential to every
ironeral, and Indeed to every man who
!s bearing a heavy load of anxious busi
ness, to he a good sleeper. Napoleon
was a first-rate sleeper; so was Pitt, so
was Broupham, so was Mr. Gladstone,
so was Wellington. At Salamanca Wel
lington, having given his order for the
hitl.ln, said to his alde-de -camp;
"Watch the French through your glass.
Fi:z Roy, I am going to take a rest.
When they rea.ch that copse near th-f
gap in the hills wake me." Than ha
lay down, and was fast asleep In a min
ute. In the midst of the critical opera
tions before Waterloo, feeling weary, ha
laid himself down, put a insmifin
over his face and took a nap.
T. yrj. Chamberlain, who llvaa tttraa
miles north of Phoenix, Arlaopa, bat
rose bush six years old. It fast I
tip to tip, and 16 feet hlgh.Tks) -er
Is a delicate plak. fffi
Til hart to.laara jrar asrrta, air,"
aid the coachman to da tnd . sms
nata,
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