! RIDICULE. ;
I
The biting, the lit11* Ironical things,
With their acrid, dry and pungent stings,
Tho’ couched tu the (OW of innocent
flings.
Are often the things that carry.
For they pierce beneath the smug veneer.
And alter Ihe Unas of the worldlings
sneer.
As they brush aside, with a careless jeer.
The world's attempts to parry.
Their shafts sink deep In the leathern
hide
Of the hypocrite garbed In blatant pride,
Otrt tolly and sham, they stand aside.
Whan Irony's shafts are speeding,
ho*, write it down, that knave and tool,
In e/t o’ mart. In church or school.
Fear nr, ught so much ns the ridicule
That men pass by unheeding.
—William H. Orearfleid.
LQTHIA’S ACCIDENT
- Ily IIKI.EN A. BECKWITH.
______ Copt/rii/hted, 19V3. by The Authori Publishing Cotnpnny I I
Lothia was in an unpleasant mood. ]
It caused her to forget her habit of
prim, orderly neatness—a quality so
deeply inculcated as to seem a part
of her very self.
I^eft motherless before her recollec
tion, she had grown to womanhood
under the watchful care of an Indul
gent father. lie had never given her
premptory command, but had led !
her nevertheless, high-strung and way
ward though she was. in his own way,
by sterling advice, with love and gen
tleness, and often a seeming acquies
cence to her whims. The plans for ;
her future were made in her parly
childhood, but Robert Yates had been
wise enough to keep this from his
headstrong daughter, while ho had
guarded against complications.
Of late her father had changed, and
Lothia was uneasy about it. It was
now two weeks since a bulky letter
arrived tor him, which she delivered
gaily remarking on Its size, and
curious as to its contents. When her
father saw the envelope, his face be
came ashen, and he lost his geniality.
Although Robert Yates had looked
forward for many years to what was
Before him, now he wallowed in the
•‘slough of despair” at the culmina
tion of his hopes. With the thought
of separation ever before him. he
pould not regain his old cheerfulness.
To-day another letter arrived bear
ing the same postmark. Lothia had
sent this one In, fearing a repetition
of the former scene. Shortly she was
summoned into her father’s prosence,
to be addressed with sternness, and,
Bhe thought, with cruelty.
‘‘Lothia. you are grown to woman
hood, and it Is time that you were
settled in life. In your Infancy 1
made au arrangement for your future;
now the time has arrived for the ful
fillment of that plan. To-nwrrow a
gentleman will visit us whom I de
sire you to treat with the greatest re
spect, as I esteem him highly, and—
he is to be your husband in the near
future."
Lothia’s great, blue eyes voiced her
astonishment, then slowly filled with
tears, but after a moment’s pause her
father continued: “His name is S. E.
Aaron Wool bridge.”
“Is he young, papa?” asked the gill
with tremulous lips.
“Well, no; not extremely young;
forty, or thereabouts.”
“O papa, how could you!” she
sobbed.
The man moved uneasily about the
room. At last be stopped before her.
“There is no use of becoming hy
sterical,” he said. “You must do my
bidding ”
“But why, papa?”
“Because it is best—because—be
cause I command you.”
The fire of indignation flashed from
, —- '■■■' i
“Oh, papa, how could you!" »he
sobbed.
her eyes. "Well, then I won’t; that’s
flat." she cried, rushing from the room
to leave her father filled with sad
wonderment.
Catching her sailor hat by the brim
she jammed it upon her head with
vicious earnestness, not stopping, as
was her wont, to brush back her rebel
lious rings of copper colored hair, for
the breeze made sad havoc with them
If left loose. She would go where no
one would find her, and thir.k It out.
The narrow wagon road wound
•round the foot of the mountain closo
to its base. Now that Lothia was
high above the road the meadows
•••mod far below her. She glanced
down Involuntarily, and thought how
easily she might end it all. As she
leaned forward a trifle, the bettor to
see the bottom, the loose earth slipped
beneath her feet; instinctively she
grasped a root, but it gave way, and
she plunged downward, clutching at
vines and briars. She closed her eyes,
vindictively saying, “Now, papa,
you'll be sorry.”
“Are you hurt?” anxiously asked a
gentleman, bending over Lothia, as
she regained consciousness.
“Why did you stand there?" spite
fully cried the girl, struggling to a
sitting posture. “1 know you stood
“Are you hurt?’’
there just so I couldn't fall; you're a
mean, hateful thing.”
The man stepped respectfully aside,
with a look of amused perplexity on
his face. ‘‘Was this a wilful deed?”
ne asked.
‘ No, ’twasn’t; I slipped, and you
might have stayed away so I could
have been hurt; I hate the sight of
you,” she cried, angrily, while the
tears filled her eyes.
“Do you really wish to he injured?
I am sure 1 would lie glad to assist
you in any way that I can. I might
accommodate you by throwing you as
high as possible and letting you come
down unattended. I could throw you
quite high: I ain over six feet tall, and
am strong, while you are but a
feather's weight.”
Ijothia laughed gaily. “You're not
suen a had sort after all," she said,
“but l do wish you hadn't been there
so they could have found and sent
me home; I guess then papa’d be
sorry."
“Yonder Is a flat rock which will
make a comfortable seat; let us be
friends, and you tell me all about it
Miss—Miss—ah”—offering his hand to
assist her.
“Yates, Ix)thia Yates; now, what is
your name."
The man seemed suddonly confused,
but finally stammered out, “Silas.”
“Now sit here and tell me your
trouble, If you will.”
' Well,” she began, “you see papa
is just as good as gold, but some
thing has got hold of him lately, and
he wants me to marry an old man
with the horridest name. Say, haven’t
you another name?”
The man reddened as he replied:
“Yes; Aaron.”
A silvery peal of laughter floated up
the mountain side. “Why, isn’t that
funny; that's the old man’s name, too.
Aaron Woolbridge .forty; just think of
it. If I had been hurt maybe papa
would have felt so sorry tha*. when
the old man comes to-morrow he
would send him away.”
“Does forty seem to you so very
old?" queried the gentleman.
“O dear. yes', papa is sixty; I am
twenty, and papa lias been old ever
since I can remember him. I wish I
had been hurt just a little so I could
mako a fuss, but I haven't a scratch.”
“Now, Miss Yates—”
“Say, Lothia, it seems as if I had
known you always.”
“Very well. Lothia. I am a medica!
man. Dr. Aaron; you are generally
bruised. 1 will bandage your head,
your ankle and your arm, and will
convey you to a farm house nearby,
where I will arrange for you to re
r.aiu until sufficiently recovercl to lie
removed. Of course, the length of
time rests with yourself. In the mean
time you can communicate with this
old man and tell him your feelings;
perhaps, he may release you.”
j “That's capital," she cried, clapping
] her hands.
Robert Yates was informed and
carre to see bis daughter daily, but
never mentioned her would-be suitor.
Her letter, filled with bitter scorn and
loathing for an old man of forty, beai*
ing such a horrid name, was duly
written and given to one of the farm
hands to post.
Time flew on the wings of the wind
for Lothia. Bandaged as she was—
for she dared not admit the ruse—
the time that passed seemed wonder
fully short. The doctor's visits were
awaited with feverish expectation.
‘ Lothia, this is my last visit.”
“Your—last—visit.” she gasped,
while the color forsook her cheeks.
She felt that the sunshine was going
out of her life forever.
"Must this ruse continue, or shall
we end it now?” he asked, gravely.
I hardly think Mr. Woolbridge will
trouble you.”
The doctor's pocket was bulging
with the mail he had Just received.
One envelope caught the girl's eye.
“Where did you get this?” she cried,
taking up the letter.
“From the post; it belongs to me.
Forgive me. Lothia, but I am S. E.
Aaron Woolbridge. I stayed on here,
hoping to overcome your prejudice:
and win your love. I find your real
sentiments voiced in this letter,
and—” his voice quivered percept
ibly—“1 can stay no longer.”
Lothia crimsoned with shame. “)
don’t want you to go,” she sobbed.
“What does this mean, little one?
Is it that you care for me?”
“O yes, I do; don’t go, please?”
“What! care for an old man of
forty, with such a horrid name?”
“I don’t care for anything but you;
can you forgive me?”
“On one condition—that you marry
me without delay, before I get older.”
he said, folding her in his arms.
“How could I have been so foolish?”
she whispered from her safe shelter.
HAD AN AWFUL DREAM.
Robbed by a Giant Ostrich With
Almost Red Legs.
Hunting yarns were in order, and
it was up to the African explorer for
bis contribution.
“I was trekking along the southern
coast of Africa a few years ago,” said
he, “and had spent most of the day
shooting pheasants, springboks, vick
Loks, duykerboks and the other kinds
of ‘boks’ with which the country
abounds, when I was suddenly con
fronted by the biggest ostrich I ever
saw.
“As he stood before me, intently
regarding me, he looked to be six feet
tall, and for the moment I lost my
presence of mind. Then I backed
away, intending to shoot the big bird,
hut to my utter dismay found that
tne magazine of my gun was empty.
“Then I remembered hearing that
the legs of an ostrich turn pink when
he is angry and I looked at his limbs.
They were not only pink hut almost
;ed, and, as he started threateningly
toward me, 1 threw myself flat on the
ground, this being admittedly the best
way to escape death or injury from
the blows of one of these birds when
infuriated.
“The ostrich came close to my side,
and after intently regarding me for a
moment, poked out his long neck, in
serted his bill into the pocket of my
waistcoat, abstracted my watch and
calmly swallowed it with a look ol
intense satisfaction.
“Next he explored the pockets of
my trousers, and finding my knife,
gulped that down with an expression
of gastronomic delight. My bunch of
keys followed suit, as did everything
in the way of metal or glass 1 had
about me.
"Then, having made a sumptuous
meal of my personal belongings, be
stalked majestically away, leaving me
unharmed. I got up finally and went
through my pockets to see if lie had
left anything, when, to my utter sur
prise, I found my watch, knife, keys
and everything else in their propei
receptacles.
“Then it dawned upon me that 1
had dreamed a bad dream and I re
solved never again to take a nap oi
the veldt.”—New York Tribune.
To a Rose in a Book.
Oh. some one hath hidden you, rose.
When once you were blooming and fair.
And who she was nobody knows;
I wonder does nobody care?
Were you token of hope or despair?
Old you mark a love's triumph or close!
Oh, she hath forgotten, i'll swear!
Tho' who she was, nobody knows.
And some one hath fondled you, rose,
And kissed you and pressed you In
here;
Is It folly for me to suppose
This tiny brown blot was a tear?
You are faded and yellow and sere.
Yet I shall not disturb your repose.
Since once to her heart you were dear—
Tho' who she' was, nobody knows.
I put you hack tenderly, rose;
You would crumble to dust in the air;
And who she was. nobody knows;
I wonder does nobody care?
Yet I’ll write on the margin, "Oh,
where
Is she who once treasured this rose?
Peace be to her soul, is my prayer.
Tho' who she was only CJod knows!"
— Esther M. Clark. Chnnute, Kan.
Made a Bad Bargain.
In the days of 'Totten boroughs” it
England that of Oatton Park is saic
to have been the worst. It had only
one qualified voter and yet it returned
two members of parliament. Ol
course with this right the property
was very valuable and in 1S80 it was
purchased by Lord Monson for $r>00,
000. Two years later it was disfrac
chised.
As Bad as That?
Everything goes in Pittsburg, excep.
on Sunday. The injunction there ii
"Six days shait thou graft, but tlx
seventh shait thou rest.” |t is caid
of them that "They keep the Sabbath
day and everything else they ean lay
hands on."—Memphis (Term.) News
For the Individual
1 ■ - ■ —
; 1796 ? 1872 5 1952
WHERE OTHERS GIVE UP IS
JUST WHERE WE GET OUR
j*- SECOND BREATH. J*
THIS ACCURACY REVIEW
DEPARTMENT
is for co-operation in Information to reluct
mutually expensise mistakes. It is for mechan
ical, commercial and professional people; the
employer, employe and customer; amt consists
of extracts taken by permission from the copy
righted letters, the lectures note books and libraries
of Dr. Furl M. Droit. When you secure on any
subject an idea personally useful to you, and
you with to gice it to him, address him in rare
of The John t'rerar Library, Marshall Fie' I
Building, Chicago, lie is hunting the whole woe'd
orer for information, of "eery day use to y> :,
and he regrets his inability, personally to reply
to contributors. So far as possible he wishes to
hats in this space the very ideas you would like
to find here. You are al liberty to send him
any suggestion you may care to. Ills Arcade
Index libraries were started in 1872 and now con-,
tain unpublished in formation dating back to 172*7
with systematic plane extending to Your
short story of tome example of forethought de
posited in the Arcade Index collection may prose to
be your best monument.
Acquirement of
Better Results
A man inquired. “How can I accom
plish most for the energy, time, force
and efforts expended? I feel that I
must accomplish more, yet my
strength will scarcely admit of greater
expenditure. How can I do it? is the
question.”
When a store must have more space
for new goods and is unable to borrow,
rent or build, and all the space
It has is chock full, there is one
thing to do, and that is throw out the
least important line of goods. But
sometimes when it is thought all the
space is entirely occupied, careful in
vestigation and some mental calcula
tion will produce more space. There
are counters to-day which use room,
formerly unoccupied, for holding
stock, and they give almost half as
much room as the shelves back of
them.
Busy doctors have to study prompt
ness, briefness and effectiveness.
Some doctors will make twice as
many calls during the day as some
others do, using the same time, the
same energy, and having left fully as
much strength at the end of the day.
To do an extra amount of work re
quires an original study of self and
environments, coupled with syste
matic effort to gain at every point.
Our opportunities for doing more
work and better work with the same
time and strength embrace a study
of improved methods, better habits,
more nutritious food, economy of
time, casting off unnecessaries, less at
tention to the least important, hunting
for waste places, training others to
do what they should for us, and trying
to find something every day new and
useful to us In our work.
Scattered attention is surely a cause
of errors. Some think about their rest
during work hours, and during rest
hours they worry about their work,
and as a result they neither rest nor
work. It is no business to think of
things at the wrong time. Nor is it
business to think too far ahead or too
far behind. The former is for pro
phets and the letter for historians.
Those who make big money study
history and read the future, but the
average man must look steadily at to
day and keep his head and hands
busy.
The* Criminality
of Carelessness
“What is the cause of criminal care
lessness?” Two years ago a man ask
ed me the above question. He had
been having trouble and I have been
thinking about the subject ever since.
It may be due to ignorance. Some
claim that people are not as good
nor as bad as they appear to be—if we
knew more we would be better. But
we will know more if we are any
good and have our goal in the right
' place. The idea that experience is a
dear school, but fools will learn in no
! other, might be revised to read: “It
is a wise man who learus by experi
ence; fools never learn.” Though a
man is not to be blamed for being
born ignorant, he can be blamed for
remaining ignorant, and continued of
repeated carelessness may be called
criminal.
When the weak acquire strength
they bcinme leaders of the naturally
strong, because they know how, when
where, which and why.
Friends hare made and unmade
men but in trade a good friend is a
compound blessing. There are those
so rich in this source that nothing
but willful ignorance cati ruin them.
There are places into which one can
not enter without that backing which
is better than a brother's. Other
sources of success are often credited
w-ith returns that belong to this. The.
professional man looks to his friends
for promoting his opportunity. To
have real friends one must be friend
ly without a selfish reason or policy.
The Usefulness
of Self-Control
What is dangerous for one person
may be perfectly safe for another.
Very, very few inherit so much money,
muscle or mind that they can squan
der all their life, never acquire and
die rich. As one man's food may be
another man's poison, so one man's
pleasure may he another man’s pain.
Self-control is a quality desirable in
all phases of life, in social, profession
al and commercial fields. It means
money and victory.
There are some people whose per
sonality seems to throw me off the
track, and no matter what they say or
do irritates. For some time I have
been trying, when I see such a person
to study out how 1 can he useful to
that person, and when I meet him I
make an extra exertion to he agree
able and sensible. Sometimes unsel
fish work pays. The other evening on
the train the above kind of a person
sat a few seats from me. No doubt I
scowled, as I felt it, and though
we know and saw each other, neither
of us spoke. I resisted my tempta
tion to remain where I was and took
a seat by his side. I introduced myself
as though I had been forgotten, and
we had a very pleasant chat after we
got started. I so forgot myself that I
left the train with him before reach
ing my station, hut subsequent events
proved tt was to my advantage to get
off at that place.
From a number of communications
which 1 have received on the subject
of self-control, the following are some
extracts:
“Thinking of consequences is one
way of gaining or maintaining self
control.”
“Thinking of the uselessness of ‘fly
ing to pieces’ ” is another.
“First of all, Christian principle;
second, strong will power—the God
give u power to hold still, no matter
how hot the furnace; third, fear of los
ing one's hold on one’s self.”
"The source of self-control lies In
an earnest purpose to show strong
manhood and womanhood.”
“Self-control is the result of experi
ence; mistakes fortify one in the fu
ture against the same acts, and help
to decide kindred actions. Education
tends to give one a command over self,
partly by the wider range of view
acquired and partly by the knowledge
of experience of others. Some per
sons can not profit by the experience
of others, but must pass through the
fire themselves. Self-control appears
at times to he the gift of nature, as
some people even in childhood re
veal a self-command which could not
have been acquired. I believe self
control to he an acquired accomplish
ment, resulting from experience and
observation rather than from any
study of books.”
About the severest test of self-con
trol is to say “no” to a friend and
run the risk of losing his friendship.
Good solicitors tell me that self-con
trol is one of the most valuable forces
in their line of wbrk. An attorney
w ho is a collector told me as a rule
he thought it was a good thing to
leave his club at home, as he might
feel it necessary to hit back some
times, but at all events be sure never
to lose your head. I believe that it Is
very profitable for us to undermine
our own errors and explode them our
selves. It does you more good to kick
yourself three minutes than to kick
the people thirty years. To have self
control is to have almost everything
else desirable, hut seif control Is an
indirect product of daily good judg
ment.
In order to have setf control you
must have something to control. A
thistle-down has no selfcontrol be
cause it has no weight, and it would
be the same if it had intellectuality
and had r.o weight. A very smart
man with very weak muscles is sure
ly much in need of self-control. Sys
tematic saving fosters self-control and
good judgment. Think—think twice
—thrice If necessary. Practice In
order to be able to perform suddenly
! and satisfactorily. Be something and
I prevent your blood getting thin. The
j world needs more agreeable disagree
i lug, but before it can have it, it must
! contain more self-control.
A narrow view of life causes errors
[ that a re most troublesome. A wide
\ path gives a narrow view. A narrow
path, if high, gives a broad view. A
tramp has a unde path and narrow
view. The intelligent, hard-icorking,
sw ressful man u the very antithesis
i of the typical tramp, and he has a
broad view, but his daily path is al
most a bee line tmrt a-1 sorrow at a
l fence board on
——
WILES OF A WOMAN
USELESS FOR MAN TO STRUGGLE
AGAINST THEM.
Benedict of Years Gives Bachelor
Friend Some Pointers on a Subjeci
of World-Wide Interest—Supply or
Tricks Inexhaustible.
The bachelor and tht married mar
were talking of all sorts of things
and finally the conversation goi
around to that all-absorbing topic,
woman. “I don't see why so tnan>
of you men are ruled by your wives,"
said the bachelor. “You are not firn
enough with them. I’d like to see anj
woman who could make me do any
thing I did not want to do.’’
“That remark could come from a
bachelor and no one else,” said the
married man. "I know better. A long
time ago the poet sang, ‘He is a fool
who thinks by force or skill to turn
the current of a woman’s will,’ and
the song rings just as true to-day as
it did in the seventeenth century.
“If a woman wants her own way she
Is bound to get It. She has a thou
sand tricks she may play, and not ail
man's acuteness or alertness will find
her out. Nearly every woman is mor6
or less of an actress, and in that lies
her power to dupe the other sex. If
she is flatly refused what she wants,
she is not in the least discouraged.
She promptly lays her plans to get
what she desires by hook or by crook.
“First she tries tears, generally a
most effective weapon in clearing a
path to her own way. But tears be
come less effective the more they are
used, so she next tries indifference. If
that fails she tries the martyrlike
pose, which consists in going about
with a sweet smile, but with an injur
ed air, and is generally enough to
jrive a man to buying a house and
lot if the woman wants it.
“Then there is the scheme of mak
ing the man think that her way is his
way. This is rather a delicate task
and can only be accomplished by a
woman of rare skill, but if she under
stands her husband thoroughly It can
generally be brought about. Some
times a woman may drop remarks
about the beautiful things which her
father used to give her, then she sighs
and says plaintively that of course
she cannot expect to have all those
things now she's married, and. after a
sad pause, remarks that she has her
husband, and that Is enough for her.
She may also say casually that soma
one has declared that her husband
was stingy, and it is no such a thing,
for he always gives her everything
she wants. ‘Don't you, Pet?’ And
then Pet does.”
“But if you know all these tricks,”
said the bachelor, “I should think it
would be pretty easy for you to get
the better of yyur wife.”
“My dear man. my wife has a new
trick for every day in the year. Just
as soon as I learn a few of them she
discards them for fresh ones that I
never dreamed of. No, I gave up
long ago. I found out that if my wife
wants anything she is sure to get it,
so now I give in in the first pla^e.”—
New York Times.
A WIFE WORTH HAVING.
Lady Beaconsfield’s Affectionate Devo
tion to Her Husband.
A story indicating the great affec
tion and intense admiration which
Lady Beaconsfleld entertained for her
husband is told as follows: On a cer
tain day when Lord Beaconsfleld, then
Mr. Disraeli, had to make an import
ant speech he and his wife drove to
the house together. Arrived at their
destination, he alighted from the car
riage and shut the door with a bang.
He stayed some minutes talking to his
wife through the carriage window be
fore he bade her farewell and entered
the house. It was late at night when
he arrived home, but he found his
wife waiting for him. He noticed,
however, that her left hand was
swathed in bandages. On inquiring
the cause of this he learned that whwn
he left her he had shut her hand in
the carriage door and, though she
suffered terrible pain, she allowed no
trace of it to appear on her face,
knowing that if she did her husband
would lose that self-composure which
is necessary to the delivery of a good
speech.
Sad Outlook for Spindleshanks.
Now that King Edward has set the
fashion for knee breeches in full dress
affairs and is being followed by many
of his subjects, it is likely that they
will be received ere long on this side
of the water. They must, of course,
be made of black silk or satin, and
the effects resulting from such a dress
will, to say the least, be somewhat
curious. Those who favor the inno
vation will be the well built, athletic
class, while those who cry out most
loudly against it—that they will not
adopt such a ridiculous fashion—will
have, no doubt, some personal reasons
for not wanting to be seen in knee
breeches. It will not be the first fash
ion adopted that has made men look
ridiculous, nor will it probably be the
last. King Edward is still the cri
terion of fashion in London. There is
little question as to the style there at
least.—American Wool and Cottor
Keporter.
l.ove’s Coming.
Love, true Love, did wend his way
Into my heart on a certain day,
And there he made his home.'
So sly was he that when he came
I scarce did know him then by name
He stayed, nor cared to roam.
And ot him then I saw no trace
Until he found his resting plai e
rrue friendship was his tirst disguise
Which served to blind my trusting eves.
And after friendship seeds were sown
I awoke to find Love all my own
—josephlne AJHjell Lee in Brooklyn
Eagle. J