Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917 | View Entire Issue (May 12, 1904)
JOHN BURT I Author of “The Kidnapped Millionaires/* “Colonel Monroes Dextrine,” Etc, I I*. COPTBIGHT. 1903. BT FBXDBtUCK UPHAM An*Mg All rights reserved COPTRIUHT, 1903. BT A. J. Due&kl Biddle I Cupid had stolen upon her in th« night. He had fired an arrow and fled. Sh^j felt the delicious tingle of the wound in her heart, and wen dered if it was love. CHAPTER TEN. Samuel Lemuel Rounds. “The Roundses don’t run much tew ancestry, 1 reckon; leastwise our end on ’em don't,” Sam Rounds had ex plained to John Burt on one occasion. “Course I’ve got a lot of ancestors back somewhar, but who'n thunder they are, blamed ’f I know!” It is reasonably well established that a Rounds settled in Rehoboth fully one hundred years before Sam i was born, but the atter’s recollection did not extend back of his father—one Hiram Rounds. The annals of Hiram Rounds and his iamily can be epito mized in one word—work. “Dad shorelv was er hard worker an’ no mistake,” explained Sam. ‘‘When thar wa’nt no work tew dew on our farm, he’d hire out tew ther neighbors fer fifty er seventy-five i cents or day. And at night we’d all shave hoops after supper, working ’til nine an’ sometimes ten o’clock. In tL<? winter dad would haul logs tew Newport. He shorelv was the cham pion worker ’round Rehoboth. Lots er strong young fellers came up from Attleboro and tried to mow a swath with dad, but he bushed all on ’em.” "Killing himself to live,” mused John Burt. “Wall, I reckon he did—leastwise Doc Reynolds 'lowed so. Dad died when he was forty-eight. He teamed all night, three nights runnin’. workin’ out the poll-tax fer the neighbors, an’ he had er stroke. Doc warned him then tew let up er bit, but dad just somehow couldn’t, and he pitched in ergain. He was shinglin’ ther roof of ther barn, erbout elevon o’clock one night, an’ I guess he had erother stroke. The doctor couldn't exactly uel. Don’t be extravagant, Samuel. It’s .a besetting sin.” “There ain’t no commandment agin it; leastwise I never saw none in the Bible,” said Sam, who was a perpetual mystery to his mother. “To my way of thinkin’, extravagance is erbout the only thing worth livin’ for. I aims ter be the most extravagant chap ever turned outer Rocky Woods.” The reproving look on his mother’s face vanished when Sam threw his i strong arms around her and kissed her with a resounding smack. They j entered the house, and Sam escorted his mother to a cozy room and told her that it was her own. She looked at the tasteful furniture, the snowy linen, the bright rugs, and the pic tures. and tears stood in her eyes. “This is too good for me, Samuel,” she said, holding his hands and look ing fondly 'into his eyes. “But you must be hungry. I'll change my dress and get dinner. Where’s the kitchen, Samuel?” ‘Never mind erbout the kitchen,” said Sam. “There ain’t no kitchen fer you. Dinner’s all ready, anyhow. Come on, Ma Rounds. I’l show you the cutest dinin’-room ye ever sot yer eyes on.” » It was a pretty dining-room. A broad bay window, framed with morn ing glories, looked out on a well-kept lawn. The table was decorated with flowers, and the table linen was flaw less. To the old farmwife these mod est comforts realized her dreams of prodigality. Sam touched a bell, and a trim, white-aproned maid responded. She placed a tureen in front of the mas ; ter of the house and moved noiseless ly away. -Mrs. Rounds gazed search icgly. first at the young woman and then at Sam. “Seems like old times tew have you offer a blessin’ ” said Sam, as he serv ed his mother a portion of the savory soup. “Who is that woman?’ she asked. //// <5HE FELT 7HE JXLXLCW i -OF 7EE FVOC7YD EF fZFLLPT YELLED LT /T VZ<5 LOP27 9 9 tell whether he had er stroke, er wither he fell off an’ broke his neck, er both—enyhow he was dead when they picked him up. I wasn’t home at ther time—I wTas in Fall River workin’ in the mills. When us young ones got tew be twelve years old most" on us was packed uff an’ set tew work in ther cotton mills er in the match factories. Five of my sis ters worked in ther cotton mills. Nowadays ther workin’ men are talk in’ erbout er ten-hour day, an’ some on ’em is strikin’ fer an’ eight-hour day. My sisters an’ thousands of other girls used tew work from six o’clock in ther mornin’ till nine at night, an’ they was mighty glad tew git ther chance. Where air my sistei's now? Two on ’em is dead, two mar ried, an’ one’s in an asylum.” ‘'You never told me how you made your start, Sam,” John said, taking advantage of his friend’s reminiscent mood. “Reckon I never would got started if I had tew depend on wages,” re flected Sam. “Worked In er shop in Providence fer three years an’ saved up er hundred dollars. Then dad died an’ left me part of ther old farm. I sold out fer six hundred. Went up ter Vermont and bought some hosses an’ brought ’em back an’ sold ’em. Then I kept on buyin’ an’ sellin’ 'em. When I had enough money I bought that air strip of land I own now. and I’ve been thare ever since. I've been down ter New York, lookin’ it over, an’ have erbout decid ed ter locate thare. That’s er great town, John, an’ I knows more erbout hosses than mose on ’em down that a-way. What dew ye think erbout it. John?” Sam looked anxiously into the face of his friend. “I should go." said John decisively. "There’s a fortune waiting for you in New York. Sam. Go. by all means.” This settled it with Sam. A month after the Segregarsett sailed away with John Eurt., a Providence steam er carried Sam Rounds and fifty carefully selected horses to New York. Since the death cf his father Sam had provided for his mother, who lived with him in a well-built house on his Hingham stock farm. Mrs. Rounds was a faded little woman who had reached her three score of years. She looked fraiT, but ' was seemingly incapable of physical fatigue. She had reared a family of ten children, and for more than forty years had averaged sixteen hours of work a day. Her girlhood was spent in a factory and her honeymoon in a kitchen. When Sam was able to build a house he declaied that it should be his mother’s home. He registered a vow that she should do no more work. The good old lady was astonished and a bit dismayed when she examin ee the modest house Sam had erected. "This is a nice place,” she sitd— pride of her son and hereditary cau tion struggling for mastery. "It must •ha’ cost a lot of money. I’m afraid you're reckless and extravagant, 8am “Her name is Mrs. Fletcher. She’s the housekeeper here. She’s a widow lady, an’ a mighty good woman.” “Of course you’ll let her go now,” his mother said, when the housekeep er had served a roast of lamb, a dish of green peas, browned potatoes and some tender cabbage. “I can do the cookin’ an’ all the work here now. What do you pay her. Samuel?” “Seven dollars a—a month,” said Sam, who preferred the falsehood rather than the confession of the appalling truth that Mrs. Fletcher re ceived that amount per week. “She’s an awful good cook, ma.” “Seven dollars a month and her keep,” mused Mrs. Rounds. “That would be as much as twelve dollars a month, or one hundred and fifty dol lars a year. Samuel. We can save all that. Let her go at once, Samuel, and I will do the work.” “You’ll do nothin’, Ma Rounds,” said Sam, decidedly. “You’ve worked night onto fifty years, an’ that's enough. Now, I'm go’in ter dew ther work, an’ you're goin’ ter dew ther playin' an’ restin’. Of course you can sew an' bos3 ther girl an’ putter ’round like, but you must keep outer ther kitchen, an’ fergit that brooms ever was made. Don’t you worry er bout money. I’ve got enough money ter keep both on us er hundred years, an’ I’m goin’ ter have more.” Sam took his mother to Boston and superintended the purchase of dress materials, a bonnet, and various articles of apparel. On this occasion he was guilty of a scheme of decep tion which filled his soul with joy. He was acquainted with Mr. Farns worth, the merchant, and calling him aside, said: T want you tew wait on mother an’ me, yerself, Mr. Farnsworth. Mother is the best woman in the world, but she thinks I’m extravagant, an I wouldn’t hurt her feelins fer any thing. Now, I tell ye what ye can dew. When she picks out a cheap thing, you multiply the price b7 four | er five, an’ tVhen ye show her some thin’ bang-up an’ good enough fer a | princess, put the price way down. Dye understand? An’ when we gets through, give me the true bill and show her the other one, an’ I’ll make i it ad right fer yer trouble. An’ mind | ye, I want the best in ther store for ! Mother Rounds.” The merchant smilingly agreed to I thi3 arrangement and entered heartilv ! iato the deception. Mrs. Rounds had never been in Boston until that day although all her life had been spent within an hour's ride from the New England metropolis. Occasional visits to the dry-goods shops of Taunton formed epochs in her life, and she was dazed at the contemplation of the sight before her. The shelves, with their load of fabrics, seemed endless, and she crouched behind a marble column for fear of being in the way of the chattering, laughing : throng of shoppers. “I don’t want much, Samuel,” she whispered, as Mr. Farnsworth turned to take down a bolt of dress goods. “We must be «Ton cm leal, tfacsuel. Tell Dim to show us some ginghams." j “Ail right, Ma Rounds; watch me beat him down," returned Sam, nudg-' ing her gently with his elbow. “Here is a stylish pattern. Mrs, Rounds,” said Mr. Farnsworth, dis playing a neat gingham, worth per haps ten cents a yard. “How much a yard?" asked Sam. Mr. Farnsworth gravely consuitec; the cabalistic price mark. “The regular price is ninety-five cents a yard, but.” lowering his voice and glancing about to make sure he was not overheard. “I will make it tc you at eighty cents.” “Eighty cents a yard for gingham!*' gasped Mrs. Rounds. “It is imported goods, Mrs Rounds,” explained Mr. Farnsworth, critically stroking the print. “It wears like silk. We carry uo domestic ging hams. Here is one at eighty-five cents and this ore is a dollar and ten a yard. That would make you a fine gown. Mrs. Rounds.’ “Let's go somewhere else, Samuel,” whispered his mother. positively frightened. “I can buy gingham in Taunton for eight cents a yard.” “Wait a bit.” said Sam reassuringly “What have ye got in silks, Mr. Farns worth?” “We have a fine line of silks,” re-! plied that gentleman, leading the way j to another counter. “I should recom j mend a heavy black gros grain silk j for Mrs. Rounds. We have them at i all prices. Here is one at a dollor and j a half a yard. He displayed a silk worth at least j three dollars a yard. The old lady looked fondly at the glossy fabric, j The temptation was great, but she i closed her lips firmly and put Satan behind her. “Too much.” said Sam decisively.' “We’re not rich ner proud. Mr. Farns- ; worth. Show ns somethin’ cheaper.” “Very well. Here is one at a dollar a yard, and here is one which is a bargain.” He unrolled a superb, heavy bolt of silk, lustrous black and j a delight to the eye. He examined j the price mark critically. It told him j that the wholesale cost was four dol lars a yard and the upset retail fig ure four dollars and seventy-five cents. | “I can let you have that at eighty | cents a yard.” he said after a mental: calculation. “Now, ye’re giftin’ down tew busi-1 ness.” Sam declared tentatively.' “That's tew much, bet it’s more like ' it. What do you think of the goods, j Ma Rounds? You'd look like r. four-1 year old in a gown made of that.” “It’s very fine—too fine for me. I’m afraid.” She was weakening. “And ‘ it’s cheap, if it's real silk. Is it really ] and truly silk?” She looked timidly; at Mr. Farnsworth, who assured her1 it was silk beyond a doubt. (To be continued.) HAD FUN WITH MILLAIS. Friend Tried to Convince Him He Was Not a Great Hunter. Sir William Vernon Hareourt has a great reputation for his humor. Years ago he received an enthusiastic letter from his intimate friend Millais, the artist, who boasted of having killed a great stag. Sir William replied: “I received your insane letter, from which I gather that you are under the ; impression that you have killed a stag. Poor fellow. I pity your delu sion. I hope the time has now come when I can break to you the painful truth. Your wife, who (as I have al ways told you) alone makes it pos sible for you to exist, observing how the disappointment of your repeated failures was telling on your health and on your intellect, arranged with the keepers for placing in a proper position a wooden stag. You were conducted unsuspectingly to the spot and fired at the dummy! In the ex citement of the moment you were car ried off by the gillie, so that you did not discern the cheat.” TURNED THEM ALL DOWN. Culprit Evidently Not Impressed by Appearance of Lawyers. Secretary of the Treasury Leslie M. Shaw told the following story when he was in New York the other day of the time he was practicing law in Iov a. One of his townsmen was arraign°d for a crime and had no counsel. The Judge explained to him that he was entitled to have counsel assigned to him. He pointed out several attor neys in the courtroom, naming them as he did so, and said: “Here are Mr. So-and-So and So-and So, and Mr. Smith is out in the cor ridor. You can choose any one you want and I will assign him to defend you.” The prisoner slowly looked the law yers in the courtroom over, one after the other, and then replied: “If it suits your honor just as well. I’d as soon have the one in the hall.’' —New York Times. Wanted Home Industry. A wealthy Scotch ironmaster called on a country squire and wa3 ushered into the library. He had never seen such a room before, and was much impressed with the handsome cases and the array of well-bound volumes that filled their shelves. The next time he went to Glasgow he made a point of calling at a well-known book seller’s, when the following conversa tion is reported to have taken place: “I want you to get me a leebrary.” “Very well. Mr. -; I’ll be pleased to supply you with books. Can you i give me any list of such bocks as you ' wculd like?" “Ye ken mair abcot I buiks than I do, so you can choose ' then yourself.” “Then you leave the ' selection entirely to me? Would you ; like them bcund in Russ:a or Me- I rocco?” “Russia cr Morocco? Can ye no’ get them bound in Glasco?” _ Back to His Youthful Days. When Elizabeth Akers Alien wrote “Backward, turn backward, O Time, j fa thy flight, make me a child again | just for to-night,” she did not foresee | the experience of the Pennsylvania man who was struck on the heaa by the branch of a falling tree and made unconscious for a time. When he re gained his senses he was a boy again in mind. He now wants to play the same games he played as a youngster and do the same , chores. Aside from the wound on his head, which is heal ing, he is in good physical health. Ho is of middle age. c Organdy With Frills of Lace. Confirmation and graduation dresses differ little in design or material, as both occasions demand white, sim ply made. This very pretty model suits both and is made of French organdy with trimming of Valenci ennes lace forming frills and double frills, or ruches. The waist is a pe culiarly becoming one to young girls and harmonizes to a nicety with the skirc that is made on ideally simple lines, both being shirred, the waist *672 Confirmation or Graduation Dress, 12 to 16 years. to give a bertha effect, the skirt to form a hip yoke. To render the de sign still further useful and avail able for occasions of greater dress the waist is so constructed as to al low of being made low with elbow sleeves, as shown in the small sketch. The quantity of material required for a girl of 14 years of age is 9 yards 21, 7 yards 27 or 4% yards 44 inches wide. A May Manton pattern, No. 4672, sizes 12 to 16 years, will be mailed to any address on receipt of ten cents. Raisin Sandwich. An unusual yet very palatable sand wich filling is made from finely chop ped, seeded raisins and English wal nuts meats mixed with the well-beat en white of an egg slightly seasoned and flavored with a tiny bit of vanilia. Figs used in place of raisins will af ford variety, but no sugar should be used with them. Use equal propor tions of fruit and nuts. Turkey a la Hamburger. Here is a dish that is new: Grind in a sausage mill the meat from the drumsticks and thigh bones of a tur key with a little fat. Season with finely chopped parsley, a green pepper and an onion, black and red pepper, salt; beat up two fresh eggs and mix the whole mass with cracker dust. Form in the shape of an oval loaf and bake in a quick oven, with a few pats of butter slightly pressed into the top. Serve in slices from a hot plat ter.—New York Press. Faded old shades are popular. Boleros and skirts are the accepted dress mode. Rays of fine pinch tucks give the tailored finish. Almost all of the “opening” gowns i have deep, tight cuffs. Crush belts of Japanese hand em broidered satin are new'. Every shade of brown “goes,” from light golden to mud color. The Dutch neck is a pretty finish for warm weather waists. Underwaists of thin silk are worn beneath transparent waists. A mousseline waist with velvet skirt is an approved combination. Little moons and star constellations appear on some shining silks. Satin buttons embroidered by hand with tiny flowers are from Japan. Embroider your linen gow'n with graduated wafer spots in pale colors. \ Stocks with long tabs reaching the waist and edged with plaited frills are shown. When Onions Are Odorless. How many times has every flat dweller entered his home only to cry out in disgust because the odor of the onion or the turnip or something wvwwvw Readers of this paper can secure any May : Mtntoa pattern illustrated above by filling out ! all biauks in coupon, and mailing, with iOceuts, j to E. E. Harrison <£ Co., Plymouth Place, Cti- { cago. Pattern will be mailed promptly. I ; Write plainly. Fill out an blanks. Enclose On Mall to E. K. Harrison A Oa, Ob Plymouth Place, caHaga Fashion Hints, Recipes, and General Chat on Matters Connected With the Household—Charming —Con firmation Oress for Young Giri— Embroidered Crepe de Chine and else has permeated the entire six or seven rooms? “Let’s stop having such things for dinner,” he suggests to his wife. “Why it’s mortifying to invite a friend to dine when one knows this sort of atmosphere is going to knock him down as soon as he enters the door.” As a matter of fact, there is no need for excluding the onion or the other offending eatables. The simplest way in the world to solve the difficulty is this: Have the cook put into the cooking vessel with your onions just a piece of stale bread about as big as your fist. Somehow or other the bread absorbs the odors, and you don’t know onions are on your menu until you sit down at the table. To Cleanse Piano Keys. It is a simple matter to whiten piano keys by washing them with a strong solution of nitric acid to an ounce of soft water. Use a piece of soft cheesecloth to wash the keys, being careful that the solution does not come in contact with the wood. Whiting or prepared chalk mixed with lemon juice is an excellent polish to apply while the keys arc moist. Badly discolored keys can only he remedied by calling in a careful work man. Parisian Hose. The latest Parisian fad. which is sure to make its way across the ocean, consists in a delicate silken, hose, dec orated with hand-painted birds, flow ers or arabesques on the instep, and in some instances reaching up in front to a short distance below the knee. A New Ornament. The piquet is the name given to the spruce little bunch of flowers or small fruit which is somewhat stiffly tied up. to stand sentinel on the little spring walking hats. The piquet is usually placed to the left of front; but as there are left-handed and right handed people, so there are women or girls to whom hat trimmings are most becoming when poised at the right side than on the left. In such a case the piquet of a lady’s slippers, stocks or foxgloves may be mentioned to the right of the front, besides the crown. The piquet stands erect and is supposed to be something cf an ai grette or pompon made of flowers, instead of feathers. New Idea in Linens. A new idea in linens is to be seen m the loosely woven ones which re semble scrim more than anything else. The color of this material, also, looks like scrim, and many beautiful effects are showir in colored flower designs on the ecru background. One of the prettiest linens is of a pure white mesh with a delicate pale green intermingled. Fern leaves are scat tered about the border. — £itchen To extinguish a chimney on fire take a large handful of sulphur and throw it into the fire. When the sul phurous fumes ascend they will at once put out the fire. A small tray of quicklime placed in closets after they have been thorough ly cleaned will be found excellent for keeping the air pure and absorbing moisture. The lime must be frequent ly renewed. To clean a mirror try rubbing it with a ball of soft paper slightly dampened with methylated spirit, then with a duster on which a little whiting has been sprinkled, and finally polish with clean paper or a wash leather.— Chicago American. A little freshly made tea and a pinch of nutmeg impart a delicious flavor to apple pie. Polish tortoise shell with a paste of jeweler's rouge and sweet oil. Let this lie on the shell until dry; then brush off and rub with chamois. Put sugar in water used for basting meats of all kinds. It adds flavor, ' especially to veal. — Devilled Liver. This makes a good breakfast dish. Chop some cold liver till very fine, dredge with flour and stir in a table spoonful of mustard, pepper, salt and a cupful of good gravy. Stew slowly, then add two hard-boiled eggs thinly sliced, and serve on toast. Accordion Plaited Blouse. Accordion plaited blouses of soft fabrics are much in vogue and are gracefully charming worn by women of slender figures. This one com- j bines embroidered crepe de chine J with a yoke and cuffs of lace, the lace ! all being finished with a narrow puff ing of messaline satin, and is ex ceedingly dainty and attractive, the 4680 Fancy Blouse, 32 to 40 bust. material taking ideal folds. The drop yoke, too, is a feature and extends onto the sleeves in the fashionable manner, while it forms a becoming point at the front. The model is emi nently simple and can be used over the fitted lining or left unlined as preferred, and, in addition, can be either tucked or gathered in place of accordion plaited. To make the waist for a woman of medium size will be required 5*4 yards 21, 4% yards 27 or 2% yards 44 inches wide when accordion plaited, 3% yards 21, 3*4 yards 27 or 2 yards 44 inches widp when tucked or gathered, with 1% yards of all-over lace and % yard of silk for belt. A May Manton pattern, No 4680, sizes 32 to 40, will be mailed to any address on receipt of ten cents. Little Change in White Goods. In plain white goods there Is little change from last year, aside from the fact that thin airy things will have the place of honor. Plain and em broidered linens from very sheer to very coarse weaves will be used for gowns and shirt-waist suits. There are several varieties of cotton eta mines and mercerized materials of many descriptions. Without hesita tion one may buy dimities, French and Parisian lawns, wash chiffons, silk muslin and English nainsook; while embroidered swisses in vari ous-sized dots, in stripes or in floral designs, are better style than for many years past. A SMART L ITTLE COAT. Eton jackets make the smartest of all ccats for th^handsomer suit3 and are shown in most fascinating styles. This one can be made with the fancy collar and big sleeves or plain with plain sleeves, but, in either case. In trudes the fashionable vest. As shown the material is tan colored chiffon cloth with turn-over collar and cuffs of velvet, cape collar of the materiel overlaid with ecru Russian lace, and the vest of white silk, dainty lingerie frills finishing the sleeves. The quantity of material required for the medium size is 4 yards 21, 2% yards 44 or 2 yards 52 inches wide with % yard of sjik for vest, 74 yard of velvet and Z /urds of lace for frills. A May Manton pattern, No. 4690, sizes 22 to 42, will be mailed to any address on receipt of ten cents. , . . .. . /*»(!, As It Happens. “Why do you rent?” asked the old man. “Houses can be bought on easy terms. Why don't you buy one?" “Because,” replied the wise young man. *Tve had three friends who tried it. In each case they gave me a pitying smile as they took posses sion of their own homes. In each case I was informed that the only way to live was to quit paying rent. In each case I saw the fortunate fellow neg lecting his business in the spring in an effort to get his taxes reduced; and in each case an inquiry as to what they were doing a few years later brought the reply. ‘Trying to sell my house.’ If it’s just the same to you. I’ll continue to rent a little while longer.” Getting Even. Patience—You say they quarreled? Patrice--Yes, and she returned all his gifts. And what do you suppose he did? “Can’t guess.” “Sent her half a dozen boxes of face powder, with a note explaining that he thought he had taken at least that much home on his coat since he knew her.” Perfectly Clear. Tommy—Ma, what’s a stepirotk^r? Tommy’s Mama—Why, if I shodd die and father should marry again, the lady would be a stepmother. Tommy—O, I see. You’d step down and out and she’d step in.—Indian apolis Sentinel. What They Have Done. “Is there anything at all in flying machines up to date?” “Certainly.” “How do you make it out?” “There’s been a lot of money put into them, hasn't there?" “Of course.” “Well, you haven’t heard of any 01 tt being taken out, have you? It’» still there.” Booming Business. “That lobbyist seems to have a good deal of money to spend,” remarked tht first councilman, “Yes," replied the other, “he’s work ing for an ordinance to allow automo biles unlimited speed.” “Ah! in the interest of the autc club?” “No, the pndertaker’ trust”—Phil* delphia Ledger. A New Definition. “You don't think the man was In toxicated?” “No, sir.” “Why?” “Because he eould keep his feet by leaning against a wall without try ing to get a grip on the bricks with his fingers.” 1 " i An Expensive Name. “Darringer, what’s become of youi friend? I haven’t seen you with him for over a week.” “I cut him! His name is Hava drink, and every time I called him that he said, ‘I don’t care if I do. He was too expensive.” Some Men’s Luck. Stranger—So you went to school with Rudolph Skipling, eh? I sup pose you know he is now a famous writer? Uncle Fletch—Sho! Why, him an’ me used ther same copybook, an' 1 know my writin’ ’d beat his’n all holler. Comparison. “Don’t you think it would be a good idea for this government to conduct more public enterprises?” “I don’t know,” answered Senator Sorghum, “grand juries are getting so active and voters so inquisitive that before long the chances for graft will be just as good with a big private enterprise as with the government.” —Washington Star. Henpeck's Fatal Shot. “The Japanese,” said Mrs. Henpeclc, ‘seen to be a people of very f-jur words.” “Yes,” replied her husband as be moved stealthily toward the dcor, "and see how they are getting on. Why don't you learn a lesson from the Japs?” Af/er the Tips. “How attentive your waiters are to that ostrich." remarked the lion to the cashier of the Jungle restaurant. “I never saw monkeys so polite before.” “Yes,” remarked the beautiful tig ress, who acted as cashier, “they wero reading in the Jungle News ims morn ing that ostrich tips are very valu able.” Her Misfortune. "She’s such a big girl!” "Yes. Isn’t it too bad? She never HU be stole to talk of love in a cot* Uge without making people largh.*