THE BAD
She knelt beside tie bed tit-re lay the boy
Who all the weary day bad been to bad;
Tear wet ber cheeks, aud prayer wu on her lips
The while she drank griefs (fall In bitter alp.
"If you but knew, my boy." I beard ber aay.
"How you hare hurt me through thia livelong day.
If you could know the love a mother bears.
Or that your name's the burden of ber prayers."
And then she prayed Oil hope came back to her
And happy tears replaced the grief -drop" blur;
She prayed for patience, prayed for light; but mor
Prayed for the boy for whom such love she bore.
She prayed that be might choose the better part
And lose the growing hardness In bis heart;
She prayed till Joy unto her soul returned
And mother-love through all her being burned.
How like her God she seemed while kneeling there.
Her lips attuned to sweet unselfish prayer;
How like the Christ that nightly over me
Bend, trusting that my love for him may be
Such that upon the morrow I may go
More meekly on his errands here below.
Some day that boy must feel love's thralling thrill
I yet may learn to do my Master's will.
Baltimore American.
FROM GENERATION
rjrjQHBRE was no death dance, no
II loud wailing, no burning. Of the
Ave survivors of the horrible
tuassacre, Sikra was the only one uri
leathed. When the first ray of day
tht thinned the blackness around her
sufficiently to give er her bearings,
the crept out of her covert, back to the
i-eue. The white men were gone, but
their work had been well done. The
trasses were dabbled with blood, the
pools were clotted and red, there were
Itill falut groans from the dying and
mocking grins on the upturned faces
of the dead.
In the midst of the mangled bodies,
Black Wing lay dead. .Sikra was only
a squaw; she did not know how to
swoon and drip tears, but the sun was
hUli before she moved a muscle or
flrew a deep breath. When, at last,
however, she trudged over the sand.
Slipped Into her canoe, and paudled
Slowly down the bay there was not one
hideous detail of the massacre of In
dian Islaud not seared deep into her
soul.
The government was held resiiousi
ble for the massacre by outsiders, and
the overt acts of hostility on the part
of some of the chiefs was cited as the
cause by those more closely initiated.
The perpetrators, perhaps citizens of
Eureka, although suspected, were nev
er charged with the crime, but as time
went on it was generally conceded to
be the work of private individuals,
who had their own object In view.
As time went on and the Indians
were herded onto the Hoopa Reserva
tion, the story of the massacre was
buried beneath other debris of its kind
treachery on the part of the redskin
tnd bad faith of the whites until the
stronger race had gotten all the power
Into Its hands, and driven the Indian,
his wrongs and his rights, out of the
path of progress.
But the lapse of time that accom
plished this condition did not wipe out
the injustice of Black Wing's death
from Sikra's memory. Grown haggard
tnd old in the interim, she had not lost
ue detail of the Island scene from her
nlnd. The boy she bore a few mouths
after the massacre was nursed and
cradled in the hope of revenge. His
lullabies were the death-groans of the
wounded warriors and the walilngs of
the women and children who fell in
the struggle. His first lisping word
were a vow of vengeance for Black
Wing's blood. He knew the grewsome
story glibly before he was old enough
to understand it, and by the time he
was able to grasp the meaning of his
early training. Revenge was written
large in the very fiber of his being.
"He Is like Black Wing," Sikra said,
as each year his straight young limbs
grew longer, his lithe young frame
stronger, and she saw a hope of her
life's object being realized. Mrs. Howe,
who lived in the big white house, often
asked, when the old squaw came to do
the weekly washing: "Why don't you
make the boy work, Sikra?" But she
straightened her old, beut back, and
grunted: "Well-a I not raise him for
that"
Meantime the boy fished up and
down the streams, content to bask in
the sunshine, or roamed through the
forests and mountain solitude, idle
but thinking, always brooding, plot
ting, thinking.
"You will spoil the boy, Sikra, if you
do not make him work," the kind wom
an of the white house said again, one
afternoon, while a pile of snowy linen
grew under the knotted hands of the
old laundress. "Idleness will get him
Into mischief," she added, as the stal
wart figure of the young buck swung
along the roadside, stopped at the
driveway, aud sauntered up to the
back porch, where his mother was
working. No one, else could have said
thia much to Sikra, for her boy was the
on raw spot in her nature. She never
permitted the kind-hearted Mrs.
Howe's advice to bother her, however,
ad ooJy mnmbled to herself aa the big
fallow slumped down on the cellar
aef, hit keen eyes following the chick
M preparing to roost In the cedar
tmt while the soapeods splashed and
C watar streamed and dripped over
Caar, tka tkrtftj- boeeewlfo boated
1 at ti2lj tfctss ea the porch.
BA.
TO GENERATION
her realize the propriety of ber pres
ence on the scene. "I'll do what I
lisve always intended to do with this
game-bug." she said half aloud. "It
has hung here long enough collecting
trash. This is a good time to overhaul
it and throw the rubbbh away."
The game-bag was a ponderous
leather thing, aud its capacity appar
eutly unlimited. Old fish hooks and
tackle came first, rusted and rotten
from long disuse. Then hatchets, horse
shoes, gopher traps, door knobs, coils
of wire, ahot pouches, fly boxes, empty
shells, a whisky flask, oldjiiiiest rubber
gloves everything, in short, that a
catch-all of such sort collects lu the
course of tweuty years. The last thing
brought up was au old hunting kulfe
an ugly-looking weaon, broad aud
short, with a rude deer-horn handle.
The blade was rusted, and looked as If
not cleaned after its last thrust.
Teh white hands touched it gingerly.
"I dou't know what to do with all
these things after all." the woman
said, looking up into the quizzical eyes
of the tall young fellow, who eaine
singing "Bonnie Doon" through the
house, whistled the dogs over from the
stable, stirred the drowsy canary into
a flood of song, and sent the cats scam
pering away from the neighborhood of
the meat safe. "They were your fath
er's things, Hal, when he wasn't much
older than ou," she explained, in the
subdued tones in which one Instinctive
ly refers to the dead. But the duty on
hand was temporarily dropped when
the boy.aunouncd that a book agent
was in the front hall, and the con
tents of the game bacg were left in a
heap on the floor.
Sikra still bent low over her tubs,
but now her eyes were wild, and every
nerve in her body tingled with excite
ment. The back of her benefactress
was scarcely turned when the hunting
kulfe was swept into her hands and
stealthily concealed under her apron.
Her boy did not follow her actions, but
sat idly in the sunshine, watching the
lower branches of the cedar filling with
its tenants for the night Meanwhile
the pile of clean clothes grew with sur
prising rapidity. A wonderful energy
was at work, rubbing, rinsing, wring
Ing. and soon the work was completed,
and the squaw departed with her son.
The next week's washing was ac
complished with the same degree of
unwonted energy. Sikra stood upright,
no longer bent and decrepit. Her hour
of triumph was come. The knife still
hung at her belt the knife she had
watched Black Wing make from the
horn of the deer she had seen him kilL
At last Sikra bad found a trace of one
of her man's murderers. Tills fact
worked Itself slowly into her darkened
mind, for the knife in the game bag
cried out Howe's implication in the
crime.
But now, at the very moment of her
impending triumph, a shadow fell
athwart her gleam of hope. The boy,
nurtured into stalwart manhod for one
end, loked at her listlessly when, with
dilated eyes and hushed voice, she told
him the story of her discovery. He did
not seem to even hear her tale. After
a sleepless night, she went to rouse
him aud try again to wake the ven
geance in his blood, but he did not
know her.
Wild with apprehension, the old
squaw'g first thought was of Mrs.
Howe, her never-falling source of suc
cor. The kind eyes up at the white
bouse grew large with sympathy and
dread. "It'a only a fever, Sikra,"
young Hal came forward to assure her,
and catching up his hat be followed
the distraught mother to her little hut
The wild, black eyes that met bis,
as he entered, startled him with their
ferocity, and the wilder words held
him on the threshold. But Sikra's dumb
lok of apepal prompted him to enter
the room. The calm presence, and the
cool, firm hands of the white boy seem
ed to lay the fever devils. And the
thought that the fever might be con
tagious was overbalanced in his mind
by the grief of the sqoaw mother.
"He most not die; be must not die,"
she walled, "I raise him for now! For
Just nowr
The weeka that 'followed were a
grla straggle with b fever devils
tftat C31el the Indian bar's (mat.
When LU wild ravings aud threats of
vengeance rose to shrieks and threat
ened to exhaust the flickering flame of
life, nothing but the cool, strong bands
that had first quieted him bad any
power to calm him. So day after day
the struggle with the Destroyer was
waged.
"Poor old Sikra's heart seems set on
bis accomplishing something before he
diet," young Howe explained, one day,
to his mother. "It la pitiful to see her
hopelessness whenever the symptoms
are discouraging." And when others
aid: "Let the good-for-nothing red
skin die; be Is a menace to the neigh
borhood," the boy's blue eyes flashed
his acorn at their sentiments. "He is
all she has." he answered.
When at last they were able to say
to Sikra, "He will live." it wat at
young Howe's feet she flung herself,
for It was Hal whose presence, she
declared, had saved ber boy.
In time the old condition of the
two households were re-established.
Mrs. Howe tried to be more consider
ate of the old squaw. Her selfless de
votion to her boy during those hlgh
presaur weeks bad awakened a sym
pathetic feeling In the mother-heart of
the other woman. But Sikra was more
stolid and glum than ever before
much to the surprise of the kindly lady
of the white house, who bad been
Sikra's one friend. Wheu she had fled
from the scene of the massacre, bunt
ed and helpless, it was Mrs. Howe who
bad taken her iu and given ber shelter
and employment Wheu she had fallen
111, it was Mrs. Howe's cool, white
hands that had ministered to her, sav
ing ber and her child's life. Then in
the dark hour, when theg reat aim of
her life's struggle seemed about to be
torn from her. It was Hal who had
come to her assistance, she, like the
rxsir squaw, had only this one son, the
light of her eyes. A troop of such
thoughts came in sluggish train
through Sikra's mind as the suds flew
blub, frightening the canary from his
perch by their rising tide; and she
wondered If she could have raised this
boy for the purjiose of vengeance with
out thi woman's help.
The bonule blue skies smiled blandly
.mi the summer world, and the air hung
heavy with a stillness and peace that
brought a certain lethargy to her de
termination. Young Howe's voice,
whistling or singing, came floating
through the woof of her fancies and re
called the hours he had sat patiently
In her fever-ridden little hut in bin
effort to save her sou. For what?
As Hal dashed out of the pantry, a
moment later, he caught a look In het
eyes as guilty as his own, which
prompted blm to count the pies to see
if she had been stealing, too.
"Here's one for you," be said, find
ing the number even, aud slipping ber
a turn-over. As be perched on the bin
to munch his plunder, his hat fell back.
His face was very fair, aud his balr
curled on his forehead like a woman's.
But in his laughing blue eye shone the
image of the elder Howe. The hldeoui
grin of Black Wing's upturned face
mocked her from the seething suds. A
stilled g-oau seemed to rise from th
hissing steam. The warm stream thai
trickled down ber arm was only water
but the red, clotted pools were still
vivid in ber memory. Howe had killed
Black Wing. Was she this white worn
an's slave, or was she Black Wing!
squaw? Before nightfall the quesUoi,
was definitely settled in her mind. Tb
victuals always left for to tike bom
to warm over were tied Into her apron
under which the rusted knife stil)
hung.
The Indian boy grew stronger each
day with the recuperative power of a
wild thing. I uy lu and day out be
loitered idly around the white bouse,
and sometimes a doubt arose in the
mind of the white-house woman as to
the effects of this ill-assorted friend
ship between the two boys. Once, as
she saw her son turn and fling his
arm across the broad shoulders of the
Indian lad io evident affection, she
flinched instinctively. Since their ba
byhood they had tumbled over the
porch together, squabbled, fought, and
played like brothers this blue-eyed,
rollicking young Saxon and the swart,
lithe aborigine.
There were many new squirrel traps
devised, new schemes for spearing fish
and snaring small creatures in the for
es!, and enthusiastic preparations for
a deer hunt In the mountains More
the young fellow's vacation should
end.
"We'll leave all these things just as
they are till we get back from our trip
to Redwood Creek," Hal said, one day,
as he planned bis outing with the In
dian, "aud finish them when we have
more time." The Indian did not an
swer. The moon was bright, and the
young fellow's blue eyes shone with
the light of future hopes and plans.
The hunting trip was prolonged from
one week to two; then three. At the
end of that time, Hal's mother Ix'gan
to grow uneasy. At the expiration of
the fourth week, when the Indian re
turned without young Howe, conster
nation spread throughout the town.
Bagged, gaunt, barefooted, half
starved, the Indian had arrived In the
village, telling of a fierce storm, sep
aration from his comrade, and weeks
of search and danger to find him In
the impenetrable forest Search-parties
were quickly formed, and the
mountains and lagoons scoured In the
hope of finding the boy.
"I can't believe anything has hap
pened to him," Hal's mother repeated
day after day, when the searchers re
ported failure at every turn. She
would not let her llpa from the word
"dead." "I can t Oh, I can'tr
Sikra knew the pangs of this wom
an's soul. She had learned that tons
and look when Mac Wing 17
before ber. Bat she retarded the
white stricken tact la stole tUeace.
una
OLD-
FAVORITES
The Boas; of the Casap.
Give ns a song.'" the soldiers cried.
The outer trenches guarding,
Vaen the heated guns of the camps
allied
Grew weary of bombarding.
.Tie dark Redan, In silent scoff.
Lay grim and threatening, under;
Ind the tawny mouad of the Malakoff
No longer belched its thunder.
L'here was pause. A g uardsinau raid,
"We storm tha forts to-morrow ;
ling while we may, another day
Will bring enough of sorrow."
hey IJ along the battery's side.
Below the smoking cannon;
Irave hearts, from Severn and from
Clyde.
And from the banks of Shannon.
They sang of love tud not of fame;
Forgot was Britain's glory;
Each heart recalled a different name,
But all snng "Annie Laurie."
'oice after voice caught up the song,
I'ntil its tender passion
lose like an anthem, rich and strong
Their battle-eve confession.
5ear girl, her name he dared not speak,
But as the song grew louder,
Something upon the soldier's cheek
Washed off the stains of powder.
Jeyond the darkening ocean burned
The bloody sunset's ember.
H'hile the Crimean valleys learned
How English love remember.
tnd once again a fire of hell
Ruined on the Husinn quarters,
n'ith scream of shot, and burst of shell,
And bellowing of the mortars!
Vnd Irish Nora's eves nr dim
For a singer dumb and gory;
Ind English Mary mourns for him
Who sung of "Annie Laurie."
leep soldiers! still in honored rest
Your truth and valor wearing;
1'he gravest sre the tenderest
The loving are the during.
Bayard Taylor.
I'll Haoit My Harp on a Willow Tree.
I'll banc my harp on a willow tree,
I'll oQ" to the wars again;
Hy peaceful home hns no charm for me,
The battlefield no pain;
The lady i Jove will si-on be a bride,
Willi a dindem ou her brow;
1li! why did she flutter my boyish pride.
She's going to leave me now.
She took me away from my warlike lord.
And gave me a silken suit:
t thought no more of my master's sword.
When I played on my master's biter
she seemed to think me a boy bIkhb
Her pages of low degree;
Dh! had I but loved with a boyish love,
It would have been better for mc.
Then I'll hide in my breast every selfish
rare.
I'll Bush my pale rueek lui wiue.
When smiles away the bridal pair,
I'll hnsten to give them mine;
"11 laugh and I'll sing, though my heart
mny bleed.
And I'll walk lu the festive train,
And if 1 survive it, I'll mount my steed.
And I'll off to the wars again.
But one golden tress of ber lisir I'll
twine.
In my helmet's sable plume.
And then on the field of Palestine,
I'll seek an early doom;
And if by the Saracen's hand I fall.
'Mid the noble aud the brave,
A tear from my lady love is all
I ask for the warrior's grave.
WHAT 8EA 8ERPENT8 ARE.
Monsters that Have Survived Most ot
Tbcir Hpecie.
Professor Charles L. Edwards, of
rriuity College, told the Hartford Sci
entific Society recently a lot about the
ica serpent and had shown on a screen
pictures of the monsters calculated to
scare an Innocent youngster out of a
year's growth. Unfortunately, none of
he pictures was an actual photograph,
nut the lecturer seemed U tend to the
relief that there was something doing
In the monster line, and Rev. James
(ioodwli), the president of the society,
odd at the close of the lecture that be
for one believed more In the thing than
he had before. As to how great that
previous belief had been he did not
My.
Professor Edwards in the first port
)f his lecture had thrown on the screen
ilctures of sea monsters as represented
in years past He explained In his talk
that, while he spoke of "sea serpents,"
the so-called and oft-repeated sea ser
pent could not be a big snake, but
some other kind of a monster (If it was
anything). As buck as far as Job men
tion Is made of a grout leviathan and
accounts of some great things are
found In all early histories. One myth
seems to have come from a sperm
ivbale and another from the squid.
",ven the Indians had a belief in a
nonster serpent and thought one lived
n the great lakes and broke up the
ce in the winter when it became lrri
ated. Professor Edwards gave a long list
of dates when the great sen serpent
ins been reported and related some of
the circumstances. They stretch from
103 down Into 1003. A bishop. Com
modore Preble, crews of British war
ships and many persona have made the
reports. A noted appearance was at
Gloucester and Nahant, Mass., In 1817,
when hundreds of reputable cltlaens
jaw something and testified to It It la
fs time ted that from 800 to 700 persons
saw It and people even drove along tha
beach la crowds, keeping op with It aa
t swam along off tha ahors. Prof
Edwards said there was no doubt that
something was seen at that time.
It la aiwaya described at black or
brownish, with eyee in the upper part
of the head, swimming at a apeed of
five or six knots, carrying its head out
of watar, generally with a mane, and
proceeding with a bumping motion like
a caterpillar. A curious appearance:
was one reported In 18081890 in a
Swedish lake, where. It was declared, a
huge animal had been seen a number
of times and had been watched through
glasses for long periods. Finally, a
newspaper sent an eminent naturalist
to investigate and be reported as bis
conclusions that several monsters from
six to four feet long had certainly been
seen in the lake.
Profewsor Edward said that prob
ably in ali the many cases reported
something had been seen, for it l im
possible to believe that all these people
were liars. The universal declaration
that the thing proceeded with an undu
lating morion does away with the the
ory of Its belug actually a big suake,
He showed that the stories might arise
from the appearance of a manatee, a
big stingray, a gigantic squid (one was
caught wtlh arms and body lil feel
long), a basking shark, whales or
school of porpoise. A few years ago
what was called the Florida monstei'
was found near St. Augustine, with
arms nearly ion feet long. The busk
ing shark grows to forty feet long cer
tainly. There Is no known limit to tho
growth of fishes. Hartford Couraut.
MIXED ON HISTORY.
Who Paid "Give Me Liberty or Give
Me Death" r
At a recent meeting lu this city cf
colored citizens from various parts of
the country an Incident n-eurrcd which
not only demonstrated to some oxte-it
the negro's need for a Is-ltcr edi,atlwi.
but showed also that he bad a marked
sense of humor, says the Washing!. in
Star.
Many of those most Interested in
the uplifting of their race were prev-nt
at the meeting, and speeches were be
ing made on the theme of the colored
man's natural ability, which, it was
stated, awaited only a fair chance to
twome Apparent.
Ere long great enthusiasm was
aroused, each speaker, as he went
further In the eulogy of his brothers,
receiving more deafening npplnw
The race pride of the audience was
Appealed to by a speaker, whom nej
may call Mr. Jackson, n man with re
markable natural powers of oratory.
"Let us stand up for our rights," lie
shouted, waving bis hands above his
head. "iet us remember the sentlucnt
set forth in the Iieclaratlon of inde
pendence, that Immortal document
penned by the hand of Patrick Henry.
Aye, I would wiy In the very words of
Thomas Jefferson. 'Give me liberty or
give me death" "
For a moment, deeply impressed by
this oratorical climax, the colored
brothers were silent. Then a listener
In the rear of the assemblage Isga-i
tr laugh hilariously.
"What's the matter, brother?" quer
ied Mr. Jaekajtn.
"Sub, It happen to hab been Gcn'al
George Washington who spoke dem
Immortal wuds, 'Gib me liberty or tit
me death!' "
Emboldened by this sally, ntioth-i
gentleman ventured a criticism;
"And sbuly. suh, you knows dat
Benedict Arnold was de man (hit
penned dftt immortal document, de
Declaration ob Independence!"
These objections to his statement
completely nonplused the enthusiastic
orator, and he resumed ids scat with
great humiliation, while the entire as
semblage indulged In a hearty hn:gb
ct his expense.
Some members even dared to shout
that the crlticlsers were themselves In
the wrong. As it was, the patriotic
feelings of the occasion turned into a
huge joke as quickly ns an lelcie
would melt In an August sun.
"The Woman In Business."
"As h new woman," he said. "I sup
pose you will not object to the wed
ding ring ns a symbol of mnn's tvran
iiyr
"Of course I shall." she replied, "t'n
der no circumstances would I consent
to wear such n thing. It Is not essen
tial to a marriage, and It stand for
ull that Is objectionable In the mur
ri.'ige relation."
"And on the same theory," he con
tinued, "I suppose you will refuse to
wear an engagement ring, also?"
"Well no," she unswercd, slowly
and thoughtfully. "That's n very dif
ferent mutter."
"But theoretically It "
"There is no use arguing." she in
terrupted. "I don't care what it li
theoretically. Practically It Is verj
often a diamond, while the wedding
ring Is only plain gold, mid that niakct
all the difference in the world." Tl
Bits.
Had Heard of It Home where.
Senator "Tom" Piatt was fingering t
gilt-edged book that hnd come to bin
in the mall. He seemed so much in
terested In It that Senator Quay asked
what he was reading.
"This," explained the New Vorli
"Ikiss," as he turned the pages slowly
"Is a reprint of a curious volume nine!
thought of by William Penn and lili
followers, but which 1 am told It
scarcely known among their descend
ants."
"And what la It called," asked tb
Pennsylvania statesman.
Piatt tossed It on Quay's desk. II
was the Bible. Baltimore Herald.
There la only one way to escape: 11
the bride and groom take a trip, the)
are assaulted with rice at the depot,
If they stay home, they are "chlva
reed." The scape by not to gat mar
Had at all.
In the fortified rock of Gibraltar
liere are tC1 miles of tunnels. They
'ire stocked with an ample supply of
!;nns, ammunition and provisions, in
eadiuetw for a siege.
I There was some trouble over tho
lividing line between the town of
Cew Hartford and Harwlnton In Cou
lectlcut until the origin"' eurvey of
be towns laid out in 1TJS by the pro
irietors, who were taxpayers of Hart
lord, was found, and this record will
le used In making a new survey.
After 10 year inceesuut labor, Mrs.
Lixzle Hoffman of Anthony has flu
shed what is probably the oddest bed
ullt in the country. It Is a patch quilt
nade of H.iKlO pieces of silk of all
ilnds and colors, and every piece of
illk came from a different bride's hat;
During 10 years Mrs. Hoffman baa
yen collecting these pieces.
A remarkable Industry of Paraguay
s the preparation of essence of orange
eaves. More than I.V) years ago tho
IcHiiit priests, who then ruled that
lecludcd country, Imiiorted orange
iceds aud plnnted groves, which have
low become Immense forests, filled
t'lth small establishments for extract
Iig the essence, which Is exported to
r'ram-c and the I'lilted States for use
n soap and perfumery making. It la
I'iso employed by the unlives In Pnra
;uhv us n healing ointment and a hair
ionic.
Every engineer Is now familiar with
he fact that In aJl modern works of
my size the making and repairing of
'U Is managed by a speclul depart
nent of the works. The "good old
lays," when a gang of men would
ttnnd In line, waiting for their turn at
the grindstone, have gone by. In a
modern shop, when a tool needs grlnd
ug it Is sent to the tool department
ind another one. all ready for use, la
btnlried at once. It Is easy to see how
much more economical such a method
s, for the preparation of tools Is kept
n the hands of -ople who are doing
jothlrig else, and who are necessarily
aniih more expert than the general
workman would be. while the latter
joes not waste time iu waiting for a
iurn at the grindstone.
UlHER tRONIN, LONG
A CAIH0IIC LDIT0R.
The Kev. Patrick L. t'roliln Is re
tarded, lu point of service, as beln
(he oldewt editor of a Catholic newspa
per In the I'lilti-d Stiiti-, This vencr
ible newspaper man and priest Is edl
:or of the Catholic I'nlon and Times of
Buffalo, N. Y., niul lias recently com
pleted thirty years of service on that
paper.
In addition to his ability to wield a
trenchant pen In Ills editorial work.
ATUKIt CRO.MX.
Father Cronlu has written verse which
lias won hi in a reputation. He Is also
a (siwerful orator and among scholars
Is recognized ns a man of great liter
ary attainments. Itesplte his years,
Father Cronlu shows a marked capac
ity for work nnd lsldes his editorial
duties, on which be seiids several
hours a day, be has charge of a large
parish nt Tonowanda, N. Y.
Nenrly all of the tunny priests vvhd
exercised the sucred ministry at the
time 1'at'ier Crouln assumed his pres
ent edltoroiil position have passed
nwny. In every ease the venerable
;riest penned their obituaries.
A Vegetable Chair.
One of the most wonderful piece f
furniture In the world Is a vegetable
chair, which came from KorcM, and
has grown from a single seed, plan Ml
twenty-six years ago. The seed wal
that of a gingko tree. In fertile soil
and amid sunshine ami ruin the wed
grew Into a vine, when the native gar
dener set almut to fashion by lugenl.
ous twIstlitgK, compressions and train
ings Into an arm chair.
Much pruning was necessary in or
der to make the lower branches de
velop in slr.e and strength. The chair
was carefully formed by tying tin
young and pliable branches together
with strung fiber ropes, and ns the
tree expanded the roies held firm.
. The clmlr weighs more than B0
Kunds, and is even 'jnrder, sturdier
i ml more imperishable than oak. It l
three feet four Inches In height, und
twenty-rive Inches lu width, and soma
of the knots which formed between tin
binding rooea are twenty-two inches In
circumference. The bark has been r
noved, and the surface, which Is gold
en brown In color, has taken a flix
'Killsh, and In spite of Its look of lamp
inlagonlam It la quite as comfortable)
is the conventional factory made chair.
Aa a rule, whan we write anything
ilce about a man, be sajrs: "What did
on go aad stick It la the paper (orr