*BacK **
The summer girl upon the beach
Her shapely figure shows
In bathing suits of many hues
And elongated hose.
She's the life of every function.
She’s the joy of every set.
And her hand is pledged in marriage
To ’most every man she's met.
But when the season's over
At the seashore and the glen
This dainty creature vanishes
Till summer comes again.
And you wonder what’s become of her.
Your erstwhile summer mash,
Who in a big department store
Is shrilly calling “C-A-S-H!”
—Ed. W. Dunn.
/
(Copyright, 1905, by 1
“If anybody’s name ever was a mis
fit, it's mine. Beulah means ‘married.*
and I'm an old maid—quite a little
gray and almost 40. More polite, I
suppose, to say bachelor maid, but I
believe in calling a spade a spade.
Whoever wrote that hymn about
‘Sweet Beulah land,’ ought to see what
kind of land mine is—rocks and birch
and that dreadful frog pond. I can’t
even make my little garden all in one
spot, but have to plant tomatoes in
one place and hunt up another for the
squashes. They do look pretty, though,
climbing over the rocks and it saves
me the trouble of piling a heap of
stones together and calling it a rock
ery. Ugh! how those frogs croak to
night; I could hear them a mile away.
I wish it was winter and they were
asleep in the mud.” And Miss Beulah,
drawing her shoulder shawl tightly,
went into her lonely house.
She was said to have had a “dis
appointment." Amos Hathaway had
wanted her and she had loved him,
but they must wait until he could
make a little home for her, and he
bent all his energy to that end. It
was hard toil, digging and delving on
ia rocky New England farm. The
dawn, with its flush of amber and
pearl, meant potatoes to be dug, and
the glory of the sunset told of cows to
be milked. But at last Amos had
enough for their simple wants.
“Beulah, dear girl,” he said, “the
little home is all ready.”
“I know, Amos, but I can’t come—
I cannot, I ought not to leave father
and mother.”
“You are crazy. Beulah! I have
wanted you for six years and lived
and worked in the hope of it. Is this
what has made you look and act so
strangely?”
“Yes, you thought it was because of
sister Emily, but that was not all. 1
knew when she died there would be
no one left but me to take care of
father and mother. I’ve tried so many
times to tell you, but I never could—
I cannot leave them.”
“Then, you don’t really love me,
Eeulah!”
It was a storm of passion and the
turning back of the hopes of years,
and Amos, in the bitterness of his soul,
when ail his pleading proved in vain,
told her to go her way and he would
go his—he never would, never ask
her to come to him again. And away
he went to the mining region of the
northwest to make his fortune.
Beulah used to think of him winter
nights when the wind shrieked in the
chimney and rocked the old house.
She had given the most devoted care
to her father and mother to the end
of their lives, and now she was alone.
Her tiny house and garden were her
main support, but lately she had been
fired with zeal to strike out in a new
direction and add to her income. The
new trolley was on everybody’s ton
gue. It was an air line between a
large town and a city, and the little
farming hamlet where Beulah lived
lay in its track and was waking up to
its opportunities.
“Why can't I sell something as well
as the rest and earn enough for a
new dress," said Miss Beulah, toss
ing on her uneasy pillow. “I haven’t
any farm produce and I never had any
luck witn chickens. There! I’ve heard
that frog's legs were good to eat, and
I’ve frogs enough to fill up a regi
ment."
“Do it now!" was Miss Beulah’s
watchword, and next morning she
took the trolley for the city and never
rested until she had seen the general
buyer for a fine hotel and engaged to
bring a sample lot of frog saddles.
Tired but triumphant, she came home
"Then, you don’t really love me,
Beulah!”
unmindful of the keen scrutiny of a
fellow traveler, who eyed her first
with a puzzled look, then with a satis*
fled air swung himself off at the same
stopping place.
Next morning, bright and early,
Miss Beulah made an amphibious
toilet and started for the frog pond.
Stepping carefully on the floating net
work of branches and logs she spied
the bright, green head and mottled
body of a splendid great fellow and
crept cautiously close to him.
‘Tve got you now!” she exclaimed,
putting out her hand and making a
tremendous grab. But he was too
>ailjr Story Pub. Co.)
quick and dashed back into the water.
“I’ll have you yet." she cried, and,
bending eagerly forward, lost her bal
ance and fell splashing among the
frightened frogs.
“Hold cn, I’ll help you,” shouted a
masterful voice, which thrilled her
hear, and a tall, athletic man came
resolutely toward her and lifted her
dripping form.
“Come, Beulah—hold tight—don’t
be afraid—come with me.”
“Amos Hathaway! I’d know your
voice at the North Pole!”
“Yes, Beulah, I was waiting for the
proper time in the day to call, and
“I don’t want to be engaged in a frog
Dond.”
came around by the old pond. You
know, dear, I vowed I’d never ask
you to come to me again, but I’ve just
said it.”
“Don’t say another word, Amos, un
til we get ashore. I don’t want to be
engaged in a frog pond.”
Preferred "Coney” to "Long.”
Capt. Prager of the North German
Lloyd steamer Breslau was constantly
annoyed on the last voyage over by a
mischievous youngster, who shook the
foundations of the captain’s peace of
mind till at last his patience gave
out.
The boy had been hanging around
the captain all day, worrying him with
his naughtiness, till finally the skip
per let loose the vials of his wrath.
“If you don’t behave yourself, you,”
he roared with the voice accustomed
to obedience, “I’ll put you ashore on
Long Island and let you stay there."
But he had not counted on the na
tive American wit. As quick as a flash
the youngster replied:
“Oh, captain, please, I’d much rather
be put ashore on Coney island.”
And when they reached port the cap
tain wanted to know why one should
be preferred to the other for maroon
ing purposes.—Baltimore Sun.
Capt. Burns Cured of Pea Soup.
The following was frequently told
by Capt. Martin Burns of Bangor, Me.,
as one on him:
The captain was very fond of split
pea soup, and before leaving port he
always put in a good-sized stock of
split peas. On this occasion, however,
his negro steward got whole peas, and
so the soup that the captain called for
on the first day out was thrown away.
The next day pea soup was again
served, and this time the captain, after
having eaten a hearty meal, said to his
steward: “Steward, that’s the kind of
soup I like; we’ll have some more just
like it to-morrow.”
“Fo de Lawd's sake, cap’n,” ex
claimed the steward, “ma jaws am so
tired chewing dem whole peas dat Ah
just can’t chem no mo.”
The captain never asked for pea
soup again.
Taking Command at Once.
He had married a widow, and they
no sooner got home after the cere
monies than she put her arms akimbo,
and remarked:
“Now, John, off with them bridal
duds o’ youm and fetch me up a cou
ple o’ scuttles o’ coal from the cellar,
quick.”
“But. my angel!” he exclaimed,
“my—”
“No nonsense, John. Then go up to
the attic and bring me down that
large Saratoga, and afterward you can
step around to the grocer’s and get
that box of soap, you know. Then you
can help me get supper rea—”
John tendered his resignation on the
spot.—Rehoboth Sunday Herald.
Perfectly Sober, Too.
A short time ago a man went home
the worse for drink. On arriving at
his home he tried to unlock the door,
but' could not get the supposed key
into the lock. A man who happened
to be passing at the time noticed him
fumbling at the door and asked him
what he was doing. He replied:
“Why, trying to unlock the door. I
want to get in.”
“Why, man,” said the other, “do
you know you are trying to unlock It
with a cigarette?”
“Am 1?” said the staggery one.
“Then, by gosh! I must have smoked
the key!"—Exchange.
UMBRELLA THIEF'S NEW TRICK
Changing Handles Is the Latest Pro
fessional Wrinkle.
“Ab-out the slickest umbrella lifter
in town dropped in yesterday,” re
marked the head barber in one of the
uptown hotels.
“You don’t say,” replied the man in
the chair. “How did he ^Derate?”
“Oh, he was a changer.”
“Ah, I see. He brought in an old
umbrella and walked out with a new
one.”
“Oh, no; that's an old, clumsy game
that was worked twenty years ago.
This chap was up to the times and
cribbed the rain shields by deftly
changing handles. He carried a full
stock of handles and when he sighted
a fine silk umbrella with a gold or
silver handle he slipped it off and
screwed on something entirely differ
ent. Then he dropped the original
handle in his pocket and leisurely
awaited his opportunity to slip out
without attracting attention.
“As everybody identifies their um
brella by the handle, this ‘lifter’ can
walk right past you with your own
umbrella and you never notice it. Oh,
the world is moving, and even the
umbrella thief keeps up with the times
these days.”
And the head barber changed the
subject to hair tonics.—New York
Globe.
SHOCK TOO MUCH FOR BRUIN
Hugging Bear Evidently Did Not
Know the Summer Girl.
The g»eat performing Russian bear
had eseapJd from the captivity under
which he had chafed for so many
months; but he was finding that liber
ty had its drawbacks. For many
weary hours he hod prowled, but noth
ing in the shape of food had he seen.
Suddenly he gave a growl of delight,
for, sitting on a stile.be espied a tooth
some little lady, who was evidently
awaiting the coming of a young man.
Bruin did not stop to pondw upon
his good-fortune; he seized her in a
mighty hug. For a while she said
nothing; but as he exerted more of his
tremendous strength she murmured:
“I don’t think you are quite so
strong as you were, Gerald.”
Then once more melancholy settled
upon Bruin. He had done his best;
but the young ladies of this country
were beyond him.
With a roar of despair he retraced
his steps to the menagerie, and gave
himself up without a struggle.—Lon
don Answers.
Will Willing, Wind Weak.
Mayor Story, of Atlantic City, was
condemning those Menhaden fisher
men who dredge the Atlantic at points
illegally near the shore for fish that
is only used for fertilizer. At the
same time the Mayor pointed out the
difficulty of catching and punishing
these fishermen. He said:
“On account of the sinful waste of
good fish that they cause, we would be
only too glad to prosecute these men
but the means to detect and identify
them are not often at hand. We have
the will but not the power to punish
We are like the trumpeter in an At
lantic City band.
“This man. a native of Germany,
was practicing one night a trumpet
obligato, but he did not play anything
like loud enough.
“ ‘Louder, louder,’ said the leader.
"And the trumpeter redoubled his
efforts.
“ ‘Louder, louder.’
"And he put on still more steam.
“‘Louder, louder, louder!’
“The trumpeter banged down his
trumpet and glared at the leader with
eyes that started from their sockets.
“ ‘It’s all ferry veil,' he spluttered,
‘to say “louder, louder,” but vare iss
de vind?”’
Coachman as Collector.
It is related of Dean Gilbert Stokes
that once, when influenza had inca
pacitated his verger as well as the
two churchwardens, he consigned the
duty of collecting the alms to a neigh
bor’s coachman.
“Take the what, sir?” queried that
worthy.
“Take the offertory,” explained the
Dean. “The collection—the money
from the people in the pews.”
The coachman seemed satisfied and
even pleased with his new dignity.
But when the offertory hymn was half
through a noisy altercation was heard
in one' of the transepts, and the Dean
at once called the collector to the
rails.
“Whatever is the matter?” he In
quired.
The coachman, red of face and
wrathful of eye, then explained. He
was no half-and-half individual, and
when a thing was given him to do he
did it, and did it thoroughly. He said:
"Why, sir, there’s two men in the
best seats as won’t pay.”—London An
swers.
Adagio.
The coming night has wrapped the weary
world
In robes of solemn, ashen gray.
And, as the light dies out across the
Take down your violin and play.
But do not strike a major chord for me.
But weave a melody of dreams
As soft as silence and as sweet as sleep,
As tender as the moon's pale beams.
Let no strong passion mar the gentle
strain.
But play a mystic minor tune.
To fill my soul with pleasure sweet and
vague
I crave of you that soothing boon.
And bring to me again the dear dead
days.
Those days deep burled In my heart,
And cause from >it the misty land of
dreams
The scenes of old once more to start.
And may your bow become a magic wand
To conjure with a plaintive score
The ones I loved, the ones I loved and
lost.
From out the silences once more.
—Will Reed Dunroy.
The Gift.
Fate promised me my wish, and I replied:
“Fortune for them who have no higher
thought,.
And fame for those whose souls may so
be bought—
But give me love, and I am satisfied.**
1 spoke, and straight one stood there at
my side,
A child of sorrow on whose face grief
had wrought
Such misery as nowhere else 1s taught
For man’s imagining. And then I cried:
"Oh liar, fate, beshrew thee for thy
guile!
Thou sendest me this poor and sorry
thing
When it was love that X had asked of
thee?*’
The grave-eyed stranger smiled—eh.
such a smile
One sees but on the mask of suffering—
And sadly made me answer: **I am he."
—Reginald Wrtgh Kauffman* In Tons
Watson.'a Mega*urn.
THREW AWAY HALF MILLION DOLLARS;
HOW WORKS IN CHEAP RESTAURANT
Strange Career of James McNally, Once Famous Throughout America
as “Green Goods King.”
James Mcrviauy, tne green goods
king,” once worth $600,000, is earning
his living acting as a waiter in a cheap
Coney Island, N. Y. resturant.
McNally is now back to his old job.
the one at which he earned an honest
living twenty-five years ago, before
he discovered how easy it was to ex
change sawdust with credulous coun
trymen for their real gold.
No longer young, his great fortune
gone, the mark of the prison in his
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bent form and his gray hair, he re
turns to his old ways a broken man.
Started with $300
McNally began his career with $300,
which he had managed to save out of
a small salary, and in ten years had
won such success that he was acknow
ledged "king” of the business. He
kept many offices and employed many
men.
He spent his money lavishly, had a
splendid mansion in the aristrocratic
part of Boston, supported a string of
fine horses and had a magnificent
country estate in Bridgeport, Conn.
No banking magnate ever spent
money more freely.
$50,000 for Jewelry
For the notorious Nellie Maroux,
who deserted him when he was sent
to prison in ’96. he spent $30,000 in
jewelry alone in one year. He has
the bills for this now and exhibits
them as evidence of his past grand
eur.
McNally himself says that his pres
ent position is only temporary. He
claims to have $80,000 tied up in
a safety deposit vault which he cannot
get at for two years.
Doesn't Mind Work
“I’m a waiter, and I expect to be a
waiter for two years yet,’’ said Mc
Nally, “and I’m used to the work and
don't mind it any more. I don’t think
at all of the times when I used to sit
at tables and order champagne and
wear fine clothes and roll around in
carriages. I've got a little home up in
Yonkers, and iny two children are
there, and all I want to do is to earn
ray bread until the time comes when I
can lay my hands on my $80,000.
“It is a queer story about that mon
ey. I suppose you are wondering why,
if I have it in cash in a safety deposit
vault, I can’t go right down there and
get it. I wish I could. You wouldn’t
be able to see me for dust if that was
possible.
Placed it in Vault
“But it is this way: I was caught in
Chicago in 190(i charged with using the
mails for fraudulent purposes. They
had me right. I had been sending
green goods circulars through the
mails. 1 was sentenced to three years.
Now before this time I had placed the
money in a safety deposit vault in
New York.
“At first there had been $160,000 in
the box, but I invested about half of it
in farms and other things, and while
I was in prison the property was taken
form me in a lot of different ways—
attachments for small debts and that
sort of a thing. I have some hope,
I but not a great deal, of getting some
of that back. But, after all, there
was a big lump of cash in the safety
deposit box, and that was what I was
depending on when I got out of prison.
Threw Away Key.
“But when I was arrested I was
afraid they would try to confiscate this
cash, so I threw away the key to the
box. And then I put in my three years
in Joliet.
“And then I had been a heavy drink
er and I had used opium. These
things were suddenly stopped short in
jail. My mind was affected. Half the
time I went around in a daze. My
memory became almost entirely a
blank, so much so that the very things
I wanted to remember most I could
not remember at all.
“These things are the number of
my box in the safety deposit vault, the
password and the fictitious name that
I had given when I rented the box. I
have never been able to recall these
things.
Must Wait Ten Years.
“The lawyers told me that I would
have to wait seven years—from the
time of the rental of the box. The
seven years will be in 1907. The law,
I suppose, takes this course, because
if in seven years no other claimant to
the property comes forward, that con
stitutes in a way proof that my claim
to the ownership of the money is all
right.
“When I get this money I will take
it and buy a quiet farm somewhere
and live there with my family, and I
hope folks will forget all about me.”
The Gallant Oriental.
The Japanese nobleman approached
with a splendid bouquet of early chrys
anthemums in his hand.
The American girl, fresh and cool in
her white frock, advanced to meet the
little man across the piazza of the
New England hotel.
"If you will give me those chrysan
themums,” she said, “I will give you
a kiss for each one of them, and—”
But he was already nearly beyond
earshot, making as fast as his legs
could carry him toward the green
houses.
"Why are you running away?” cried
the girl reproachfully.
“Wait,” answered the Japanese. “I
will return. I am going after more
chrysanthemums.”
How to Perfume Laces.
Queen Alexandra’s laces, linens and
silks are perfumed in a simple and de
lightful manner, says Home Notes.
The drawers in which they are kept
are lined with white paper, strewn
with rose leaves. A layer of the fab
rics to be scented is placed over this
with more rose petals sprinkled upon
it and so on until the drawer is filled.
The result is a delicate perfume, ob
tained by an inexpensive method,
which any woman can copy.
Empress of Japan.
Empress Haruko of Japan is fifty
six years old, and is two years the
senior of her husband, and credited
with being one of the most beautiful
women in Japan.
Sand Castles. I
Building castles and other objects j
in sand by children for prizes is be
coming a favorite seaside amusement
in England.
Whistle “Marseillaise.”
The first notes of the “Marseillaise”
are being used as a popular form of
whistled greeting in London.
Peter Was Looking for His Sally.
Peter Fogg, a well-known character
of Harrison, Me., is noted for his wit
ticisms and his exploits keep Harrison
in an uproar.
A few years ago he and his intended
made a visit to a neighboring village.
He had occasion to “dicker” with
some horse traders, and, not wishing
his Sally to witness his prevarications
in that “Yankee game,” bade her to
take a walk around the village and
meet him that evening at the church.
After a successful day’s business he
hurried to the village proper, and,
guided by the sound of loud "amens”
and the hymns, looked into the church.
‘‘Ah! my brother. Are you looking
for salvation?” cried out the deacon.
“No, gol ding it,” cried Pete. “I’m
looking for Sal Skinner.”
On the Jungle Line.
Did you here about the work of the
leopard as a spotter on the trolley
line?” asked the kangaroo of the hip
popotamus.
“No. What did he do?”
“He discovered that the giraffe who
was conductor, was permitting the
elephant to carry his trunk in the car
without checking it.”
“And what happened?”
“O, the giraffe got it in the neck,
of course.”
Germany’s Population.
The population of the German em
pire has now exceeded the 60,000,000
figure. It has doubled within seventy
two years. The 50,000,000 figure was
reached in 1895.
Derby Celebration.
In celebration of his having won
the Derby, Lord Rosebery' gave a gar
den party to the working people of
Epsom to the number of 3.000.
Chinese Railways.
China has ten railways in operation,
with a total mileage of 2,235, or about
one-tenth that of Great Britain.
Could Most Catch the Train.
There is a man in Enfield, Ct., who
drives a carriage to and from the sta
tion for the accommodation (?) of the
public. He is exceedingly slow, nearly
always being a little behind time.
One day he wras engaged to carry a
lady to a train which it was very im
portant she should catch. She watched
and waited, with hat and coat on, un
til it was nearly train time. At last
Mr. C. drove up, hurrying not an atom.
The lady’s husband flew to the door,
and impatiently shouted: “What’s
the use of coming now? It’s nearly
train time.”
“Wall,” drawled the immovable
hackman, “if your wife has her things
all on, and is ready to start, I reckon
I can git her most there.”
Hated to Spend yis Money.
When G. G. Solodovnikogo, the Mos
cow millionaire, died a short time ago,
leaving his many millions for char
itable purposes, it was stated that for
years he had lived in a dilapidated two
story house, surrounded by rotting fur
niture, and without servant or com
panion. During the day he wore a tat
tered dressing gown, almost as old as
himself; and, with an income of at
least $1,250,000 a year, he grudged the
spending of $5 a week.
Difference in Conversion.
Torrey and Alexander could not con
vert Brixton, London, but the War
Department is now going to convert
the revival hall they built into a drill
hall.
Fruit Experiment in Cuba.
Twenty varieties of peaches and fif
teen of Japanese persimmons have
been introduced in an experimental
farm in Cuba directed by American
experts.
Cost of African War.
Germany’s African war has already
cost the taxpayers nearly $50,000,000.
DEATH ALWAYS NEAR
ARTIST TELLS OF RISK IN PHO
TOGRAPHING WAVES.
The Sea Never to Be Trusted for a
Moment—Careless and Timid At
tendants Add to the Excitement of
the Undertaking.
There are plenty of adventures to
be found in photographing the great
waves of the sea. F. J. Mortimer, an
Englishman, tells of some rough ex
| periences in getting pictures of this
kind on the stormy coast of the Scilly
islands. He says: “One can never
trust the sea for a moment. Once I
wa9 standing with my back to a
cliff, on the top of which was a friend,
whose outstretched hands I could just
reach. After watching the sea for
some time, breaking at a safe dis
tance, I turned my back on it for one
moment to reach up to my friend for
a fresh dark-slide. Fatal movement
—as fatal as taking one’s eyes from a
crouching tiger—for no sooner had I
turned my head than a wave darted in
and crashed' with terrific force on to
my back. I was absolutely flattened
against the rock, all breath and feel
ing were knocked from my body, while
my camera was smashed to smither
eens. Bruised and gasping, I could
only totter home to bed, and two
days were passed before I was fit
to venture out again.
“Then there was another adven
ture.” says Mr. Mortimer, „again,
caused by a rope man who was too
careless. He had lowered me down a
narrow crevice, a ‘chimney’ as it is
called, and having seen me safely
come to ground at the bottom he
calmly threw the rope down to me
and went off, never thinking that he
might be required to haul me up
again. One glance at the sea told me
that I was in a most dangerous posi
tion; the tide was coming m and
would soon be welling up the chim
ney; and only by way of the chimney
could I escape. All intentions of tak
ing photographs I threw to the wind;
after shouting till I was hoarse, I
began the upward climb unaided
elbow work of the stifTest kind
The chimney was 100 feet high and I
spent the rest of the day in getting to
the top.
“Another time the promptitude of a
friend in trying to save my life cost
me a valuable outfit. I was photo
graphing from the base of a cliff, on
the top of which stood my friend, hold
ing the rope to which I was attached*
Along came a final wave that would
have made a magnificent study.
While it was yet far distant, a sud
den distrust of it entered my friend’s
soul, and while I was stooping over
my things on the ground, without a
word of warning he gave a mighty
jerk to the rope and hauled me into
the air. Dangling helplessly, unable
to cry out, I was forced to watch that
fine wave roll quietly in, break with
a great effect of foam, and as quietly
go off with all my apparatus.
“I once had an awful fall when des
cending a steep bit of cliff on St.
Agnes. I was clambering down, very
much incumbered by my camera,
which allowed me to cling on with
one hand only, supported by toes,
knees and elbows, when suddenly a
rat leaped from a hole in the rock,
brushed against my face and landed
on my hand. Now I didn’t know that
rats inhabited the rock; and my sur
prise at this unexpected discovery in
natural history, combined with the
start I gave when the rat touched my
hand, caused me to let go my hold
and to fall a distance of thirty feet.
I landed on my camera case, breaking
up ray outfit as completely as the sea
itself could have desired.”
James Gray’s Dog Partnership.
James Gray, once a prominent sin
ger of Boston, relates the following in
cident of his youth:
When a lad of 15 he bought a yellow
dog for 50 cents. He took the dog
home and told his father about it. Now
his father would never have a dog
about the house, but, not wishing to
disappoint the boy, he offered to give
the boy a quarter, and so form a part
nership. Gray readily assented, and
thereby secured the dog's safety.
After carefully locking the animal
up James went to bed, very happy.
The first thing in the morning he
went out to see the dog, and found
him gone. He rushed to his father,
and cried: “Pa, where is the dog?’’
“Well,” said the father, “I kicked
my half out. I don’t know what be
came of your half.”
Elder Swan’s Prayer at a Mark.
Jabez Swan of Connecticut, the
noted and eccentric evangelist, was
once attending an association meet
ing, when the moderator, a driving
man for business, laid out the time
for the speakers and for the business
of the morning. “And now,” he said,
“there are just three minutes left
that are unoccupied. Elder Swan, will
you pray?”
The elder rose at the call and
said: “Well, brethren, I never yet did
pray at a mark, but I’ll try,” and he
filled out the allotted time.
Whiting Owned “Clear Up.”
David Whiting, founder of the pres
ent firm of D. Whiting & Son, milk
contractors, was one day In his mill
yard in Wilton, N. H., where two of
his men were unloading a load of logs
onto a large pile.
One of the men said: “It would be
well to start a new pile, wouldn’t it,
Mr. Whiting?
“Pile 'em up; pile ’em up; I own
clear up,” said Mr. Whiting’s laconic
reply.—Boston Herald.
Porter’s Good-by to “Mark Twain.”
Gen. Porter tells this story of his
farewell to “Mark Twain” once when
“Mark” was going away: “I said good
*y ‘Mark’; may God be with you al
ways.” He drawingly replied: ‘I hope
—em—he will, but I hope, too, that he
may find some leisure moments to
take care of you.”
Secures 4,000 Butterflies.
Walter Rothschild, M. P., who re
cently spent three weeks at Cauterets]
in France, near the Pyrenees, brought
home to England with him nearly 4,000
specimens of butterflies to add to the
million he already has.
