FORTUNATE MISTAKE.
"I think Aunt might have left me
something,” said Agatha to her twin
•later Alice, who was so like her that
their own mother hardly knew them
apart, and strangers were always mak
ing ridiculous mistakes.”
“It doesn’t matter, dear,” said Alice;
you can have half mine whenever you
marry.”
The sisters were perfectly devoted to
each other.
"Perhaps I shouldn't take It, you
know," said Agatha.
’’Walt?" was the reply,
SLe waited.
• • • • • • e
“I’m down,” said Bob Sparkles, "reg
ular down; my tailor won't allow me
any more money, that horse Is scratch
ed for Ascot, I’ve lost my luck at bil
liards, and my sister won’t lend me a
cent.”
"Marry, my boy, marry!" said Mc
Shears, as he lounged back In his arm
chair at the Lotus club.
"Whomr”
"III Introduce you to a Manx girl at
Lady Porkleton’s tonight. Her aunt’s
just left her a Lot of money; she's a
twin—the sister’s got nothing.”
So Bob Sparkles, who was not so
very young, met and danced with Alice,
the heiress, that night. Now Bob had
what Is called "a way with the women”
—a fatal way of making them believe
that he was In love with them at first
sight, which he usually was, only his
love was so abundantly under control
that “Hey, presto!” It would fly away
like a ladybird at his bidding general
ly the next morning.
His passion for Alice was not so
transitory; It did not fly away. He
wanted money desperately. Of course,
it was an awful sacrifice to marry
Alice or any one else, but the thing
had to be done. Other people mar
ried, and their wives settled money on
them. He bad had on the whole a
good time—why not ‘‘range’’ himself,
as the French say, and settle down?—
other men did and survived It.
Bob decided to marry the Manx girl
and he flattered himself be had already
made an impression on her. Perhaps
he bad.
The next day Alice, the heiress, went
to Scotland. But Bob did not know
that.
On the following week he called.
He had got one of Alice's gloves.
She had given It him with her fan to
hold when he had put on her cloak,
and he bad pocketed it. So he called
Just to restore It.
On entering the room he was met by
a young lady whom he at once recog
-wmnm'" —*%.
"BOB HAS PROPOSED TO ME."
nlzed as his partner. She wore a dark
morning dress. He had only seen Alice
once before for a few hours at the
ball In a low-neok pink frock. He
was now confronted by Agatha, her
twin sister, who was so constantly mis
taken for her.
"Pardon me, Miss lo Mesurler, I have
called to restore to you your glove
(and then, with a fetching glance), un
less—unless—I might keep It." The
remark was a shade hasty, but Bob
had no time to spare; if anything was
to be done it must be done without de
lay. If he could only aunounce his
engagement to an heiress within a giv
en time his tailor, and Mr. Benjamin,
too, would wait.
Agatha instantly saw Bob Sparkea
error, she was so accustomed to be tak
en for her sister, but this time she
turned it to her own account.
She had heard something about Mr.
Sparkles the night before. She did not
like It. She also knew the Impression
he had made on her sister. She liked
that less stiii. She resolved to save
A Ilea,
"We did have a nice dance, didn't
we? Hut are you aura that la my glove?
"Lat me put It on you."
She lat him. It fitted eiactly.
"1 think," aha aald. "on tha whole.
I'll keep It on; nn old glova la no uaa
to you.”
"It nil depend* on the hand.” aald
Hob. with a pathetic aigh, and he look
ed dreamily over hie ehoulder. and the
conversation went on very well in thU
vain.
After Aatterlng htmeelf that ha hid
made fair way and followed up tha
ballroom flirtation, ha aehed If he
might call again, and waa given an
apointment. Then they met «t the
Moral academy. In the park, at a gar
den party Yea? It wee the garden
party that did It.
itok waa burning to approach the
money question and And out what
pi>«apecte ha had of getting g good
settlement Hot he had got to yr»
pa* and he accepted Are! That, he
thought, would ha an euey matter
A»» It all happened guile propitiously
After a prolonged and sentimental
walk and talk In a tide avenue at the
garden party, Agatha and R»b Apathies
eat down to real oa g rustle ben h
"Now,” said Agatha, quite simply
and confidentially, “I couldn’t marry
any one for money."
"Nor I, Indeed,” said Bob passion
ately. "What Is a million without
love?”
"Millions do marry without love.”
sighed Agatha.
"Oh, Miss le Mesurler, Agatha—may
I call you so?" and sidling up to her
closer on the bench, etc. We know the
rest. And Agatha, with triumphant
malice, had Intimated, not In so many
words, but quite near enough, that It
was "Tea."
• • e e • e e
The very next morning the heiress
returned from Scotland.
"Alice,” said Agatha, "I have played
you a trick. You thought Bob Sparkles
was In love with you. ‘Love at first
sight.’ You thought you could be In
love with Bob. listen!
“Bob has proposed to me. No!
Don’t speak; he thinks I’m you.
I let him go on to see what he
was worth. I wouldn't have you
wrecked—I've found him out. All he
wanted was your money. He told me
In a long conversation at Lady Porkle
ton’s garden party that he believed If
a woman loved a man she would settle
her money on him, though, of course,
he could only marry for love. I led
him up to It by agreeing to everything,
especially the settlement. It was a lit
tle unfair, I own, but I wanted to
see what he was made of. In ten min
utes more he proposed."
"And you accepted?” d '■>
"Almost; not quite." ? V'T'!
"Agatha, how wrong!”
"No, darling; I wanted to save you.
I will now show you what sort of a
man he Is. This Is the letter I wrote
to him, and here Is his answer;
“ ‘Miss Agatha le Mesurler presents
her compliments to Mr. Sparkles and
begs to inform him that she Is not the
heiress, who Is Alice, her sister, and
she herself hasn’t a cent.’
(Reply.)
" ‘Mr. Sparkles presents his compli
ments to Miss Agatha le Mesurler, and
feels that he has been trifled with.
He, therefore, begs to decline all fur
ther correspondence.’
"So, then, you have received an of
fer of marriage, and you have accept
ed, but you will not accept my offer
of a good dowry?”
"Not this time, dear. Thanks aw
fully.”
So the sisters kissed and Bob
Sparkles was sold up.—Westminster
Budget,
mind N|»ot In Kvery Kye.
From the Philadelphia Record: Of
the many curious facts which are dis
cussed concerning the eye, what is
known as “the blind spot” seems the
least understood. In the eye Itself cer
tain things may go on which give us
wrong sensations, which, although not
truly Illusions, are very much like
them. Thus, when we suddenly strike
our heads or faces against something
in the dark, we see “stars" or bright
sparks, which we know are net real
lights, though they are quite as bright
and sparkling as if they were. When
we close one eye and look straight
ahead at some word or letter in the
middle of this page, for example, we
seem to see not only the thing we are
looking at, but everything else imme
diately about it and for a long way on
each side. But the truth is, there Is a
large round spot, somewhere near the
point at which we are looking, in
which we see nothing. Curiously
enough, the existence of this blind spot
was not discovered by accident, and no
body ever suspected it until Marlotte
reasoned from the construction of the
eyeball that it must exist, and pro*
ceeded to llnd it.
Adopted by a Kentucky Mudstone*
The sticking qualities of the mad
“4 one are illustrated in the family of
Mr. George Ketrhara, a merchant out
at t'ae cross-roads. Last summer John
nie, a 14-year-old sou of Mr. Koteham,
was bitten by a mad dog. The wound
was in the palm of the right band, and
when a small mudstone about thre«
inches square was applied it adhered
readily; In fact, so much so that it
could never be got liaise, and is now
thoroughly imbedded In Johnnie's
hand. The boy has become accus
tomed to the situation, and. In fact,
Hilda the stone quite a convenience In
many instances. B»- 'des whetting his
razor and bruaklng nuts with it, the
stone Is a convenient weapon, with
which Johnnie makes all the other
boys In the neighborhood stand around.
t'uetly Admiration.
A eharwoterletle alory of Own. la
fay otte waa told In a l*arU Journal
«nu« year* ago At lamartjue'a fu
neral the crowd took out lien lafay
ette'a horaee. a* the famoue aoldlar
waa returning home front the eervlce,
and drew hta carriage to hie hotel
with many evidence* of enthuelaatla
love and admiration The eoene waa
a atlrrlng one. and a friend. In refer
ring to U aotne week* afterward, eald
"You at tut have been very muck
pleated '* lafayette looked at him for
a moment In alien**. and then eald,
with a wblmtleal antiie. “Yen, I waa
very much pleated, very muck pleaded,
indeed Hut I never •*« anything more
of my kureeg, my dear friend1"
n«« e f»**pee term
Now that Ike tHtuateae of Warwick
hat opened her needlework »h*tp m
I tun 4 •< reel, lundwa, ake caa wit k Jua
Uae lay claim to belag a genuine
•aleelady " Iter eetakitehmaiM aw far
ha* been crowded with the n> • at here ot
t oblllly. and each vlaitov ban made a
pucha-e of tome t>rl, whether It waa
iwM or l
"AS ADVERTISED."
Snath American Interpret* Thle Phrosa
with Great Mrlctncee.
"An advertiser baa to stick to th«
truth In South America.” said a repre
sentative of a large shipping concern
to a New Orleans Times-Democrat re
porter. "I know that seems Incredible,
but it's absolutely so. Some years ago
a dealer In New Orleans sent so assort
ed lot of patent medicines to an Ameri
can agent at Santiago, Chill. Among
the stuff was a lot of toothache drops,
which were warranted on the bottle to
cure the worst case of toothache In
ten minutes. Here nobody would take
such an assertion seriously, but down
there it Is different. The first man
who bought a bottle made an immedi
ate application, and then pulled out his
watch. When ten minutes elapsed and
the tooth calmly continued to ache he
was furious and at once had the agent
arrested. The poor fellow was fined
$1,000 and sentenced to three months In
Jail. Through the efforts of the Ameri
can consul the Imprisonment was
knocked off, but he had to pay the
fine, and It broke him up In business.
That story U absolutely true, as can be
testified to by a dozen people now In
the city. It fs sad to fancy the effect
on commercial circles generally If such
a law was enforced In the United
States."
ft A
- - vVt,
MISSING LINKS.
There are many llshcs that In captiv
ity seem to follow some definite course
In their movements, es, for Instance,
they may swim round und round the
tank in one direction. The goldfish,
however, lu It* moving about, appears
to las a sort of aimless fish; It goes
down to the bottom and up to the
top and criss-cross and every which
way, and moving commonly rather
sluggishly.
During the continuance of the Na
tional Export Exposition, In Philadel
phia. next fall, the city hall will be
brilliantly Illuminated. This struc
ture Is the highest building In the
world, towering G47 feet above the
ground, and Is also considered one of
the handsomest buildings In the United
States. At present there is a rim of
lights around the base of the statue of
William Penn, which surmounts the
structure, and they can be seen at a
distance of thirty miles. Defore the
exposition opens a ring of arc lights
will be placed around the rim of Penn’s
hat, over GOO feet above the pavement,
and long strings of Incandescent lights
will run from there to the root of the
building. Every cornice will be studded
with lights, and all sides of the mas
sive building will be emblazoned by
beautiful designs In colored lights. It
will be one of the most dazzling elec
tric displays ever attempted In thiJ
country.
A member of the lamlsvlile bar
named Slramonson was In the habit of
imitating the opposing witnesses,
whom, when they came to be cross
examined, he harassed in every Imag
inable manner. The last witness be
took in hand was a tall, lank farmer,
with a thoughtful eye. He had
watched the baiting of bis neighbors
In dead silence, and took the stand
with perfect composure. Slmmondsou
evidently set him down ns a lout, and
when the witness hesitated over some
question a moment he roared: ’'"What
are y’ studying about? ’Frald of tell
ing a lie, too, I suppose?” Without
any apparent haste the country mun
picked up a massive inketand and
hurled It straight at Bimmondson’s
head, catching him on the bridge of
the nose and knocking him senseless.
‘‘That’s what I was a-studyln’ about,”
he drawled, In the moment of dead sl
lonce that followed the act. Needless
to say, a tremendous hubbub ensued,
but everybody was secretly pleased
and while the Judge fined the farmer
heavily for contempt he subsequent!;’
remitted the sentence.—Chicago Law
Journal.
Trimiit'A for C’huim*.
The sub*lDspector of gchoola In Ma
lacca Straits Settlements la obliged to
report a shockingly low averuge at
tendance of native children at school.
Of course there is a reason. Three
murders have recently occurred In Ma
laca, and the murderer In some way
gave notice or was said to have done
so—that he was making a collection of
heads and would stop when he killed
twenty people. Three things cause no
particular surprise In the east, where
ijueer thtnga happen. People accept
facte as they are. People do kill with
out reason In the east, t'oollea, driv
ers snd grooms rtfuse to go out after
dark, llullock-rart drivers won't tra
vel the country roads without compa
ny. And what a glorious holiday fur
lha pupils In ths governmsnl schools!
A ItUskel lofwllos.
The difficulty of preventing pecula
tion la the army remind* me of an
anecdote I have hrard my mother tell
of the l>uhe of Welllagtoa. A friend
of my mother had a contract to supply
blanket* fur the ariuy. When they
were delivered the duke desired that
every bleaket should he unrolled and
tbo«n to him When tb» gentleman,
who use a* proud of hte honor as a
manufacturer a> *uy *otdl*r could be
uf hi* honor, remonstrated against
what seemed aa aspersion ua hie In
‘••rlty. lha dube only *atd "It la my
duty to **e that the soldterw have
proper blanket* ' I do not know the
11 Mr or the etr< umeten-ea beyond the
bnre f*. t a* I have heard my mother
relate It The tp talur.
.. rv-Mmwmmmrnmam i
The lungeti laanal In the world la
that uf hi Out hard, wn the line uf the
railroad betweea Lucerne and Milan
tu length te nine and wna half at Ilea
THE HUMBLED DONS.
WILL IT BE SPAIN’S RESURREC
TION?
Or la She Taking Her Defeat Too
*areaely?—Tranquillity of Ike Tau
qu tubed Hu* Seen Iberlu'U Strung
Lard—Will Shu HetUaf
As you travel through Spain by the
express, which carries you to Madrid,
ths belief Is forced upon you that not
even a rumor of the war has yst reach
ed the remoter countryside. The peas
ant, a loin-cloth girt about his waist,
still bestrides his mule In sublime Ig
norance of America's triumph. News
travels slowly In Spain, where the
morning paper Is not more necessary
than wine and bread; and It would be
sate to wager that If you encountered a
wayfarer on the Sierras and spoke to
him of battles and alarms bis mind
would revert slowly to the half-known
glories of the peninsula. Hut the ig
norance of the country may be matched
by the apparent Indifference of the
towns, and for this Indifference anoth
er explanation must be sought. Spain
woke up one morning to find that her
colonies had been snatched from her,
that the last link had been snapped In
the chain which once bound her to the
splendid victories of her golden cen
tury. And she accepted the discovery
with an admirable tranquillity of mind.
Cuba and the I’htlipplnes, alas! were
hers no more. Henceforth she would
lose the responsibility, as well as the
excitement, of a lingering campaign.
Hut with that lofty pride which refuses
to realize a humiliation, Spain put the
truth away from her, and took up her
occupations once more with a rare yet
perfect resignation to the Inevitable.
Nor was the strange security unex
pected. The Spaniards have always
shown themselves either unconscious
of, or superior to, disaster. There is
now, as these was three centuries ago,
a touch of Moorish fatalism In their
character. Kismet, they murmur, as
the Moors did also, who once peopled
the country; and when there Is no help
for disaster they wrap themselves In a
triple cloak of arrogance, and grimly
smile at facts, as though they only half
believed In them. But though the war
is over and accepted loyally for what It
achieved, the Spaniards, In private, still
nurse a painful wound. The eternal
dislike of strangers, In which they
rival the ancient Athenians, Is more
hitter, more intense than ever. Col
lectively, maybe, it finds no expres
sion; but you will hardly converse with
a solitary Spaniard without discover
ing the signs of a private resentment.
Now, this resentment is cherished
mildly against the Americans, who
have triumphed In war; more stren
uously against the English, whose sym
pathy, says Spain, was too loudly and
violently expressed. But this resent
ment will soon be merged in the un
willing toleration which Spain extends
to all foreigners, and then the war will
have left little trace, save In a rest
from colonial warfare and In a hand
somely replenished exchequer. And
what of the future? Will Spain, now
she Is confined forever within her own
borders, win back something of her old
wealth and prosperity? Will she es
tablish the peace and tranquillity which
rue best suited to her character? No
disturbance is likely to come from
without, since France, though she has
Just demanded, with a threat, that the
Spanish debt should be paid in full, Is
too busy cleaning her own house to
covet the house of her neighbor. Be
sides. the Pyrenees have always proved
an efficient rampart, and. even If they
were not, Europe would not be likely to
witness the encroachment of France.
In truth, Spain will now be left to work
out her own destiny, and there is no
reason why she should not face the
new century with hope and confidence.
The fact that she has passed through
the crisis of defeat with the merest
threat of revolution Is proof enough
that her varied provinces are all
standing loyally by the throne, and
that there Is little chance of imme
diate dissension. Indeed, all over Eu
rope pretenders are under a cloud, and
legitimism Is wisely held an exploded
doctrine. The t'arllsts In Spain have
no better prospects than the royalists
or Bonapartlsts in France, since our
practical age has recognized clearly
that every country exists for the gov
erned, not for the governments; and
not even Spain, docile though she be
to historical tradition, will ever again
accept the theory of divine right.
A Whit* KUphant la 1‘arU.
A genuine white elephant—or what
paaeee an auch baa been preeented to
the Partalan* by M. Ituumer, the
French repreeentatlve In &iam. t'herle.
aa tha pachyderm ha* already been
ntehnamed, made her elate entry Into
Faria a few daya ago, being met at the
Oarde de l.yon by a dletlngulahed
company dome little dl*appotntmenl
we* felt when It waa observed. ae the
traveler etepped on the platform, that
•he wee ecarcely m> while ae *he had
been painted The prevailing tune of
her compleaton la. Indeed, a »<*rt of
lurtchy red. veiled by a maee id grayleh
hair, the eyelid* and the eywa being
p.nh. It will l»e remembered that liar
aum’e epee I men. "eecured at Immense
n**t,“ fell equally *ht»rt uf Ita reputa
lioa Aa a matter of fact, the Atblar
elephant te never really while, hut the
degcieaey uf aeture te *< m«ilate* made
up fur by tbe eld of art. It te gratify
lag to learn that tbe gueet of tbe
Jerdla de* Finale* bee charming mag'
aere, including a etever baMt uf baee'>
tag and doing ubeieea.* to tbe Frea b
publta - I «>ol<>« throat*!#
Alt acleallt* dia.-overie* are bare!
•mi, on feltb la tbe verdtrt of tbe
bodily wM*t. tecundly, (altb la tbe
latelleetuni Integrity of tbe bumea
mind Me* • M feltbrop.
THE RACE FOR PUBLICITY.
Tlve Maala for Destroying All Privacy
Is Growing Among t'a.
Yes, we are growing very public.
Lack of respect for private life and
private friendship Is a serious part of
publicity—a part which really matters.
Stories and' tfttls-tattle about the
great, or the merely known, matter
far less when they do not proceed
from friends and relatives, but we
have a sufficiency of them. The mat
ter goes farther. Indeed, for many pa
pers are full of the very ordinary pro
ceedings of people known to nobody
but their friends, but presumably
known by sight to the strange witness;
you read how some young man, who Is
very likely a minor clerk In a bank or
a subaltern In a militia regiment, has
been "seen walking In Rloane street."
Or you read how some half dozen peo
ple, whose reputation Is, or should be,
entirely private, were "the only men I
saw" at the opera. I venture to sug
gest two Improvements on all this. One
Is that the names should be fictitious;
they would mean quite as much as the
others to the general public, and an
advantage would be that weird and
fascinating stories might be told about
them without fear of libel actions. The
other Improvement Is that all little so
cieties and coteries should hire col
umns In newspapers to be filled exclu
sively with their picnics and "at
homes." It might end In free publicity
being granted, like education, by the
state. In this way wp all, from Toot
ing to Tennessee, would have the grat
ification now enjoyed by the subaltern
in Sloane street, of seeing our doings,
our shoppings, and saunterlngs, and
supper parties, recorded in print, and
so at last the Spirit of the Age would
find complete expression.—G. a
Street In the Pall Mail Magazine.
> m It -■
LARGE SUMS
Demanded of Dootblark* for Cbalr
Privilege* In Office llulldlng*.
Since the bootblack's profession has
followed the general modern trend
toward ''organization” it seems to have
become a highly remunerative pursuit.
The latent development and the one
that beat Illustrates how the business
must pay Is the rent that Is charged
for bootblacks’ chairs In the new giant
office buildings. There are several of
these structures in which the exclusive
shoe-shining rights are rated as being
worth from $1,000 to $3,000 a year in
rental to the owners of the buildings.
In one of the newest and hugest,
scarcely ytt finished, a man recently
offered $1,500 for the privilege of op
erating ten chairs for a year. This
sum was refused without an Instant’s
consideration, the owners asserting
that $3,000 a year was the least they
would accept.
- ’ i|_"
Apropo* of Kipling.
At the present moment, in England
—In fact all over the world—the things
of the mind are at a discount. Largely
influencing, and largely Influenced by
one narrow, powerful personality,there
is in England Just now a public opinion
corresponding in no small degree to the
present contempt In France for the
“intellectuals”—that is for those who
regard human life as something more
than brute force, brutal rivalries and
brutal pleasures. We are In the thick
of one of the most cynically Impudent
triumphs of the Philistines the world
has seen. All that should be meant by
civilization Is a mock. The once kind
ly Helds of literature are beneath the
heels of a set of literary rough-riders.
All the nobler and gentler instincts of
men and women are ridiculed as senti
mentality. All the hard-won gains of
nineteenth century philosophers are
thrown to the winds; and for the
minor ameliorations of science we
have to pay by the most diabolical de
velopment of the foul art of war.
Everywhere the brute and the bully—
and for the ape and tiger truly a glori
ous resurrection!
RICHARD LE OALLIENNE.
••«*»«> Mejoete In HngUml.
Among the nitwt notable expression*
of loyalty on the occasion of the
queen's birthday was that of a sales
man In Leadenhall Market who dis
played her majesty's portrait between
two royal standards in a grove of pork
and sausages, supported by two hne
hams emblazoned with the letters "V.
R." A loyal radical, from whom 1
have this Information, professes him
self to have been greatly shocked at
this display, more particularly the ap
pearance of the royal mu nog ram “upon
the mist Ignoble portion of the plg'e
anatomy." Hut I have seen a “V. R"
In other positions nearly as strange
We must look In the eplrll rather than
the letter.— London Truth.
rat Iksi Iks Mammas • Prettl.
The newsdealer la a New York sub
urb did a tbrtviag business la novels
until about two months ago. Then a
public library started, and bis trnds
began to fell off About two weeks
ago be put up a notice "Paper and
Cluih Covered Novels for Hale at Half
Price." Now he has reduced the pr es
ta one third “I'm gola' to get rid ef
'*m If I have to give 'em away," be
explained lo a summer boarder who
br-ught Id vents' witrtg of marked
dowa lltera'ure ‘They re all gruwlu'
Male on me Even lbs rich people g •
to the free library, an I there's no psr«
m>me> to be aisle ia hooks In Ikii
Iowa"
•lee XX si el Mettles Ik
IfUks Hues yuor wife ever esk ymt
foe uotuey* thicks Never Micks—
Ike must be g wander Wteka Hut
•be fregoeai'y tell# mw Us give her
•ome H> »iok Tt susertpe
CHILD GROWTH.
Make th« Kd nmlloa ie«a< adh ■*
Mot OppoM It.
Growth focuses for a time npon one
set of organs or functions, then npon
another, until the whole body In devel
oped; but all parts of the body do not
grow at one and the same time. The
body grows first In length, and then In
girth. In breadth and depth o< chest.
In breadth and height of forehand, la
breadth and length of face. To make
a ■'pedal application of this well
known fact of periodicity in physical
growth, let us observe the develop
ment of the muscles of the arm. The
muscles of the upper arm—those con
cerned in the functioning of the shoul
der Joint—are ripe and ready for train
ing at least a year and one-half before
the muscles of the fingers. The mus
cles of the shoulder mature for train
ing six months before the muscles of
the elbow, and these in turn flvs to
eight months before the muscles of the
wrist, which are ripe and ready for
training from three to six months be
fore the muscles of the fingers. When
we Insist that a child shall begin to
write by means of the finger muscles
only with a small pencil In narrow
spaces on ruled paper or a slate we run
directly counter to the principles of
growth and development that nature
has so plainly written In hla constitu
tion, Must not education, to be edu
cation at all, l>e in accord with these
principles rather than In opposition to
them? The child of 6 year*, during
the first days of hla school life, chooses
to make large, whole-arm movements
rather thau the minute movements of
the finger muscles. At first he requires
“almost an acre” of blackboard space
In which to write a few sentences. We
must train the large shoulder muscles
before attempting to burden the ten
der undeveloped finger muscles,
which are really injured by such too
early strain and Involved activity.
Thu* we find In our best regulated kin
dergartens of today none at the finer
work for the younger children. The
young child la no longer required to
take up the bead-stringing and pis
prlcklng exercises—at least not until
bis eyes and hla finger muscles are ripe
and ready for such training. In some
of the most modern kindergartens the
occupations and gifts are concerned
with larger objects Instead of those
formerly used, which were of the smal
ler, more orthodox size—larger block*
larger pencils, larger needles, larger
beads and coarse string Instead of fine
thread.—Forum.
A CAGE FOR BABY.
lie tTu« Delighted and Mo n*a Uj*>
Mother.
Mrs. Elbert Clark Kockwood of losi
'lty, Iowa, described a way to keep tha
baby safe while doing the ordinary du
ties of the day, says the Indies’ Home
Journal. “The essentials,” she wrltej.
"seem to be that the child should be
kept from the floor and be given free
dom without danger of falling. This
Is the plan I adopted, and which I
called a ‘cage’: Two high-backed din
ing-room chairs were utilized, being
set with the fronts of the seats to
gether. This left the hacks at each
end. Then the sides of the two chairs
were measured and n light frame mad«
of that sire, to which was fastened
small mesh wire fencing. These frames
were tightly tied at the top and bot
tom of the chair posts and thus th*
‘cage’ was completed and could be eas
ily put together and taken apart at
pleasure. Into it was put the baby,
with playthings and cushions. The
conditions were fulfilled, for the baby
was off the floor and could stand or ait,
or even walk a little, as the fancy
seized him. The baby was delighted
and so was the mother.”
Coming on latter.
Some years ago Sir Henry Irving
was called on, In Dublin, to play a
heavy part to which he was not accns
tomed. One of the actors had no?
turned up, and there was a vacancy.
Irving bed to come on early in the
first act. Now. the Dublin gallery boy
is an institution In himself. There li
nothing like him anywhere. Conver
sations between young fellows acros*
from one side of the gallery to the.
other are spoken In loud tones, and in
the distinct hearing of the actor*. Irv
ing Is, as everybody know*, very thin,
and when hs appeared with a strid».
which is one of the most characteristic
things about him, on# of the** gallery
boys shouted aero** to another: 'Tals.
an' Is that him?" "No." wa* the re
ply, "them I* the young man's clothes.
They'll shove him out lal*r on.”- Spar*
Moment*. ^;.
I Think »•*.
Th* father of th* praeeot Lord Ah
ngdon. who was remarkable (or th*
stateliness of his manner*, on* day
riding through a village In th* vlrtalty
of Osford. met a lad drngglag a ralt
along the road. who. when hU lordship
ram* up to him. mad* a atop and slaret
blot full in th* far*. IIU lordship
asked the buy If he knew him. II*
replied "In." ‘What U my name**
raid hU lordship. Why, Lord A bin*
i don.'' replied th* lad "The* why do i‘t
you Uh* ug your hat?" * am I wilt.
*ur." Mkid tha boy, ‘‘If y*'tl hold th*
! calf “—vVaiwer*,
Hold H »l Iwklass
Baalkrt *„rb > ar* u»«**g lh*
mwi'i farm tftnps of *p** *«vk
! ribbon ta pronoun. *d eo'urs are tail
over a »m*ar* uf buckram, Ih* atrip*
imitig i» • la. bes #**rt I'rwr *•«••*
os then wwvea la aad *wt. Whaa
hrtllwal col ir* are ward lb* iftri as
ratber uriea'al. aad baah«ta el ibis Aw
*er lyl.ua are awl la hive* with yens ay
runs who have buudwtv* Nrwtehsd th
1 imliatioa af hrtift aaihwa