»p cmm cmm
®? FMOTN® Ara MLtLO®R
fir CHARLES MORRIS BUTLER.
Jfuf/?QS' of 7/je Gevenpe of /few.’yf 7^/ie/ne/t/ 7hage<fi/~3'//r/fo*J*fc,
Copyright, 1905. by Charles Morris Butler.
CHAPTER XXII.—Continued.
Richard Golden rose to his feet. The
1^, shouting ceased, and the people read
ily understood that something out of
the ordinary was to take place.
"Ladies and gentlemen.” Golden be
gan. “Are we human beings, or ani
mals of low degree?" His very dar
ing made him eloquent. “As individu
als, have we rights that this body cor
porate is bound to respect? In enter
ing Paradise as citizens we have vol
untarily thrown off the yoke of alle
giance to every reigning potentate in
the world. We threw off the yoke
because we thought our bonds too
heavy, the laws too strict, and the
privileges too fewr. In vowing alle
giance to the king and laws of Paraa
dise, we expected more freedom and
more rights—we did not expect to be
made slaves! If I obey the law, has
any one person the right to punish
me for nothing. Is the king better
than you or I? Is he supreme, the
owner, body and soul of the subjects
over which he rules? Would I be a
man to stand idly by and allow him.
or any other man. to strike me and
not strike back? I say No!
"Ladies and gentlemen! Louis
l.ang, the man you see in the arena
there covered with blood, incurred
the enmity of the king—as you know
—by winning the heart and hand of
Pearl Huntington, this woman here
w hom the king wished to be revenged
upon. If there is any law we are
bound to respect it is an honorable
marriage. It was no honorable mar
iage our king wished with this wom
n. But Louis Lang, as an honorable
jan, saved her from a life of misery
aid shame. There is not a married
tan among us who would not have
tone the same! (Great applause.)
ror daring to thwart the king he was
•ondemned to work a year in the
nines! I claim that not even the
ing has the right to condemn an
mocent man to slavery for revenge.
| deafening. If Golden had been al
: lowed to put his proposition instantly
' there could have been but one solu
tion to the problem. But before the
test was taken. Schiller rose to his
feet and began his reply to the ar
raignment.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Schiller Makes a Proposition to Lang.
“Before you vote,” said Schiller, ris
ing to his feet, and by a gesture with
his hand commanding silence, "citi
zens of Paradise, allow me to say a
word. I have allowed Golden to say
his say; now I want mine. Golden
has accused me of crimes I am not
guilty of. Louis I-ang is a convict; I
sentenced him to death, not through
spite but because he struck me—me,
the king! It is a fit and the only pun
ishment for that crime. I did not de
tain his wife in my palace, though it
is true that she was found at my
home. She came to my palace and
asked the whereabouts of her father
and I told her he was safe. Because
she did not see her father, she said.
‘I will not believe it!’ She doubted
my word, and said, 'I will remain here
until you bring my father to me!’ It
was not my place to argue with her;
I ordered my guard to remove her.
! While the guard was doing so. I was
visited by Lang, Golden and Rogers.
I I-ang saw the struggle between the
| guard and his wife, and struck him;
i I was about to explain to Lang the
j circumstance of his wife being in my
! house when the ruffian sprang upon
i me and struck me!
\ "Even then, under the circum
' stances, I would not have exacted the
penalty front l^ang but I was dared
to do it by Golden and Rogers, who.
no doubt, saw a chance to dare me
to do what my conscience forbid me.
It is but a put-up scheme to ruin me.
I am willing to obey the people; my
actions have always been above board,
“Every word that he has uttered is a lie!”
Last night, after working hard in the
mines all day. he came home, expect
ing to find his loving wife waiting for
him. Was she there? No! Tracing
her to the very palace of the king,
i^ang dared to tell the tyrant to his
face that he was detaining her against
her will. Whalen, whose body you
see lying in the dust before you, has
paid the penalty of less than this with
his life. Convict or no convict, 1
would have killed the man. king or
subject who would have dared to lay
his hands upon my wife. (Applause.)
"I maintain that when a man en
ters this place and takes the oath of
allegiance to our law that he has
rights that we are bound to respect.
Because we have found it necessary
to be here is no sign that we are
beasts—human brutes! (Applause.)
We are banded together for mutual
benefit, not to embrace slavery!
l Right! Right!) Dr. Huntington, the
doctor who was abducted away from
his home and wife and brought here
against his will, took the oath of
allegiance this morning. He is now
a citizen of Paradise as much as you
or I. He has never done us any harm;
why should he be condemned to serve
the rest of his time in our hospital
without the privileges usually grant
ed to men of talent and honor? If
he is 'compelled to remain and work
for us, should we not at least attempt
to make it pleasant for him in return?
At least allow him the privilege of
breathing, unfettered, the fresh air
once in a while, and sleeping near to
one he loves. We should not stoop to
revenge. We are not devoid of all
feeling! Schiller, though he be king,
has no right to torture his helpless
victim, and we as men should not al
low him to do so. There can no good
come from allowing injustice to tram
ple upon our laws, and I ask you. the
people of Paradise, to grant me the
privilege of allowing Dr. Huntington
the privilege of our city the same as
any other free man.
• Louis Lang has paid the penalty
for his crime—if crime it may be
called—in striking the man who would
so far forget himself as to war on
women. Now that again he has
proven himself a man of nerve , and
honor, I would ask you to grant him
complete freedom. It appears that the
king hesitates to pronounce the victor
. free!
ju "While I am in the mood of asking
| and while the people’s minds are so
' vividly wrought up with the scenes
here enacted to-night, 1 wish to ask
that the king be deprived of the power
of life and death! that we establish a
court of justice, wherein, before a
man can be sentenced to death, he
first shall be tried and proven guilty.
There is such a thing as going too
far. and I think our king has gone
too far in condemning Lang to death
without trial. If our king is a true
man, he will not object to having his
further actions made known; but if
he wishes to rule as a tyrant, he
plainly shows that he is not a fit per
son to rule at all! What is the will
of the people?"
The applause that greeted Golden
at the conclusion of his speech was
and if they want me to abdicate, I.
for one, am ready to do so:” That
was all he said. He felt that he had
made out a very plausible tale—if for
no other reason than of the power he
held.
“Now I wish to say a word:” said
Rogers. “Our king has accused me of
inciting him to do a wrong. A poor
excuse for a man in the exalted posi
tion of our king! But every word that
he has uttered is a lie! And his ac
tions. this base subterfuge, shows him
j to be but a coward! A scoundrel born
and bred:" Schiller's face was livid,
twice or thrice he essayed to arise,
but only to fall back in his chair,
trembling with excitement (or fear).
"I saw Lang strike the king. 1 would
have done the same under the same
circumstances. What made Lang a
convict here in the first place? I will
tell you. Schiller wanted to put Gold
en out of the way and Louis Lang
nipped the plot in the bud; that's the
reason—and our great king now wants
revenge on Lang:” Rogers hit the
bull’s-eye.
“I agree with Rogers there!” ex
claimed a voice, and Sam Pearson
stood up. ”1 have been a tool of
Schillgj's long enough. I was present
when he made the offer to Revolver
Rob to kill Golden. I like fair play,
and I will not stand by and see him
condemn an honest man !o death,
who has not harmed anyone, just for
the pleasure of revenge. I think the
king has gone far enough'”
The suddenness of t! e uprising of
the people stunned Schiller. He was
i helpless in the net he had woven for
i others.
“I do not wish to bring my case
j before the people.” said Golden, who
I really did not want to be tendered the
I crown at this time for fear of the
: after-climax, and who also saw a
. chance for a masterstroke of diplo
j macy. “I can take care of myself if
i only you give me a fair chance. I do
j not. however, want to see injustice
I done to anyone. It is time to quit
; this revenge business and grant Lang
and Huntington the freedom of our
city. I think the people good enough
to rule, and Rogers and I. as the ma
jority of the Council of Three, think
these people punished enough. What
do the people think?”
“Life to Lang!” was the cry
“Make Golden king!” was another
shout. And the turmoil w?s deafen
ing.
“We accept your pardon of Lang.”
| said Golden, “but. I do not wish to be
, king. Neither Rogers nor t hold any
grudge ^gainst Schiller—all we want
! is to see justice done! Curb his maj
esty a little; make his office one of
mayor; see if he is not worthy of
j trust, and make a man of him. If
| that don’t work then make Rogers
king—there’s a man for you!”
“So be It!” was the cry. “We will
give him another chance!”
The people having expressed them
selves, the meeting broke up. Golden
; and Rogers were overwhelmed with
i praise for their action in befriending
j the helpless (?), and Lang was as
1 sisted home on the shoulders of a j
crowd of enthusiasts who were car
ried away with the youths marvelous
exhibition of skill in dueling. Schiller
was scarcely noticed when he took
himself from the amphitheater—a
beaten man. However he vas not one
to give up easily.
For a brief spell our party had a rest
from labor and worry. Golden, at the
request of Lang, was able to send a
letter written by the doctor to Mrs.
Huntington, notifying that lady of
the safety of her husband and child.
Wilson was the only person who
was not made more comfortable than
before by the exposure of Schiller.
Rogers would have pardoned him—or
had him pardoned—but Louis and Wil
son both felt that it was better that
he remain in the mines as before. Wil
son’s place was an easy one, and his
privileges about as many as if nor
confined at all. The two detectives
were in hopes that he could be made
of assistance in gathering the con
victs together and in furnishing ma
terial with which the miners could
blow up the mines in making their
escape.
Dr. Huntington, when he was made
aware that his letter had been sent to
his wife, was at ease, comparatively,
and looked upon his detention as a
matter of no great importance. He
gained the respect of the citizens by
his kindness and care in sickness and
was looked upon as a valuable acqui
sition to the city. Dr. Huntington had
great hopes of ultimately being made
free, of being allowed to return to
his wife. Somehow or other Pearl’s
welfare did not seem to trouble him
much. There was something about
Lang that forced the doctor to trust
our hero implicitly. As Schiller had
been somewhat restricted in power,
no fear was entertained from that
source.
(To be continued.)
EFFECT OF CONVERSION PLAIN.
Sinner Had Improved in Observance
of the Sabbath.
While going through Maine, Evan
gelist Moody happened to be in the
town of Waterford, where he neard of
John White, who had the reputation
of working on Sunday, although all
tne ministers in the neighboring
towns had argued with him and tried
to stop it. Mr. Moody decided to try
his luck with him. and after a long
talk succeeded in convincing him that
it was wrong to work on Sunday.
The next Sunday White was in
church and his name enrolled. In a
few days Mr. Moody left the town,
feeling that he had done a thing which
had proved too difficult for others,
and that at least one sinner in that
town had been turned from the error
of his way.
A few weeks later, while driving a
load of lumber into the town, White
was met by the deacon of the church,
and the following conversation en
sued:
“Now, Mr. White,” said the dea
con. “isn't there a difference since the
spirit of God has entered your soul?"
“Yes, there is quite a difference,”
answered White, frankly. “Before
when I went to work on Sunday I
used to carry the axe on my shoulder,
but now I carry it under my coat.”
_
Reason for His Enthusiasm.
An art editor was praising the in
telligence of the French painter Bou
guereau.
“I can hardly believe that Bougue
reau is dead,” said he. “Paris, with
out him, will not be Paris. What a
keen and brilliant mind the man had.
“I remember a discussion on spirit
ualism that once took place in Bou
guereau’s studio.
“ 'If there is nothing good in spirit
ualism,’ said a widower, ‘why is it so
popular?’
“ ‘Why is it so popular? I'll tell
you.’ said Bouguereau.
"A friend of mine lost his wife two
years ago. Last week he heard of a
beautiful medium in the Square De
L’Opera, and attended a couple of her
seances. I saw him yesterday. He
had already become an enthusiastic
spiritualist.
“ ‘Why, it is ridiculous,’ said I.
“ ‘Ridiculous! Indeed, no,’ he re
turned. ‘My friend, do you know that
at each seance the spirit of my dear
dead wife returned and kissed me?’
“ ‘Nonsense,’ I exclaimed. ‘Nonsense.
Do you mean to tell me that your dead
w ife honored those miserable seances
enough to come and kiss you in her
own person?’
“ ‘Well, not exactly in her own per
son.’ he replied. ‘Her spirit took pos
session of the medium’s person and
kissed and embraced me through
her.’ ”—Chicago Chronicle.
Advertising by Proxy.
Miss Caroline Powell of Boston is
the only woman wood engraver in
America. Miss Powell was a pupil
of Timothy Cole and at a dinner re
cently she said of her master:
“Mr. Cole had a horror of stingy
persons. He was continually railing
against such people, continually point
ing out to us glaring examples of
meanness and greed.
“He said one day that he had heard
that morning of the meanest woman
in the world.
“She called before breakfast at the
house of a neighbor of his and said:
“ ‘Madam. I see that you have ad
vertised in the papers for a cook.’
“ ’Yes. I have.’ returned the other:
‘but surely you are not after the
place?’
“ ’No.' said the stranger, ‘but I only
live two blocks away from you. and
since I need a cook myself, I thought
you might send to me all the appli
cants you reject.’ ”
Cultivating Pond Lilies.
A Saco florist who ' has been en
gaged in cultivating flowers and veg
etables for years conceived the idea
that the raising of pond lilies would
prove profitable.
He went to work, or at least hired
men to do the work, with the result
that this summer he had a pond of
lilies that was not eclipsed by any in
New England. His pond, while small
compared with some in Massachusetts,
being 300 by 60 feet, yields thousands
of blooms during a season. During
August it has been no uncommon
thing for him to pick 500 lilies a day.
There is a ready market for the lilies
in the big cites, the prevaling price
being $4 a hundred.—Kennebec J our
_
His Discretion Defined.
“My wife wants me to get another
suit of clothes like the one I have on,”
said Mr. Me^kton.
“We can give you something much
better,” returned the salesman, "at
a very little increase of cost.”
"Excuse me. I am simply a cour
ier in this matter, not an envoy plen
ipotentiary.”
An Enterprise Came to Naught.
"What Crimson Gulch needs,” said
Broncho Bob, “is a race track.”
“Why don’t you start one.”
“Tried it. But it was no use. There
wasn't anybody that would bother
about gallopin’ the ponies. Everybody
wanted to be a bookmaker.” 1
Couldn’t Stand That Test.
“Jack, I have decided at last that
I don’t love you.”
The blow had fallen, yet the young
man did not quail.
With pale cheek, but resolute eye,
he stood erect and returned her gaze
unflinchingly.
“What has enabled you to come to
that decision, Mehitabel Garling
horn?” he asked. “Has some other
man-”
“No, Jack,” she said, shaking her
head with immeasurable sadness. “Af
ter you had gone last night I asked
myself this question: ‘Could I still
care for him if he should become bald
headed and fat?’ And my heart said,
‘Good gracious, no!’"
HOW HE SHOWED HIS LOVE.
Friend—I suppose the baby is fond of you?
Father—Fond of me? Why, he sleeps all day when I'm not at home
and stays up all night, just to enjoy my society.
His Last Beat.
The editor of the Punkville P-3til
ence had stood the taunts of the vile
opposition as long as he could. He
finally armed himself and waited on
his loathsome contemporary.
“When'S the editor?” he shouted,
as the office boy opened the door.
“He's dead. Shot himself last
night.”
“Scooped again, by Snakes!"—
Cleveland Leader.
A Retrograde Movement.
“Ha!” remarked the stern parent
as he fiercely confronted the trem
bling young man. “The day you lay
$100,000 on this desk my daughter is
yours. What! do you back out?”
"I do,” replied the unnerved youth,
“I certainly do.”
And he backed all the "way across
the apartment with both eyes keeping
a close watch on the fiery old man’s
heavy shoes.
Particular About His Critics.
Scribbler—I always make it a point
to submit my poems to friends for sug- i
gestions and criticisms before publi
cation and I have brought some pages
for you to look over.
Bibbler—Um—Yes. of course; but
why not take it to Nibbler?
Scribbler—Huh! He's a born idot!
The last time I showed him a poem
he found fault with it.—New York
Weekly.
A Collapsible Peck.
“1 just saw Gudger and he was very
happy indeed.”
“Why, that's funny. I saw him this
morning and he seemed gloomy en
ough. He said he was having a peck
of trouble-”
“Well, he appears to have disposed
of that peck in a pint flask.”—Phil
adelphia Press.
Hard Cider.
“Why, dear me, Mr. Longswallow!”
said a good lady, “how can you drink
down a whole quart of that dreadful
hard cider at a single draught9”
As soon as the man could breathe
again he replied, “I beg pardon, ma
dam, but upon my soul it was so hard
I couldn’t bite it off.”—Judge.
Anything to Please Baby.
Mrs. Popley—Oh, John, you must
raise sidewhiskers.
Mr. Popley—What! you never
would let me raise
Mrs. Popley—I know, but Mr. Burn
sides was here to-day, and it was too
cute to see the baby pulling his side
whiskers.
A Line on Him.
“Ah! pretty lady!” exclaimed the
fortune teller, “you have come to find
your future husband?”
“Not much!” replied the pretty lady.
“I’ve come to learn where my pres
ent husband is when he’s absent.”
Lucky It Wasn’t the Samples.
Mr. Kangaroo—What's the matter?
Mrs. Kangaroo—Why, when I went
shopping I had the baby, some samples
and a transfer in my pocket, and now
I've gone and lost the baby.
Very Precise.
“Last Friday week was your birth
day, wasn’t it?” asked Miss 'Wabash.
“Nonsense!” retorted Miss Boston.
“Why, what’s the matter?”
“It was the anniversary of my
birth. I’m not an infant.”
He Has Learned the Language.
“Did your husband find that golf
improved his health.”
“Yes. It improved his health. But
unless he learns to play better it will
8poll his disposition.”
His Mistake.
"It was the old misunderstanding
about the last word,” said Mr. Meek
ton sadly.
But I thought you always let your
wife have the last word?”
Of course. But on this occasion I
*as so careless as to go to sleep be
fore she got to it.”
Quite a Free Translation.
Mrs. Reeder—I wonder what this
paper means by this: “Mr. Radley’s
method of entertaining his guests
was quite original and unconvention
al”?
Mr. Reeder—It means simply that
he is boorish, but has plenty of
money.”
The Arrogance of Poverty.
“I can remember when I was as
Poor as you are,” said Mr. Dustin
Stax, patronizingly.
“Yes.” answered the impecunious
man who has been reading about taint
ed monej. ‘But that is no reason for
assuming that you are now mv social
equal.”
It Didn’t Sound Hospitable.
“I thought you said old Cornsilk
was hospitable.”
“So he is.”
“Well, he has a queer way of show
ing it. I went up there last night to
call on his pretty daughter and he sat
in the room all the evening glowering
at me. When I came away I said I'd
be pleased to call again and he turned
and said to his wife. ‘Don’t let me for
get to-morrow' to get new fasteners
for these dining room windows.’ ”
Convincing the Agitator.
“Oh, yes, I admit you are worth a
million; but no man is capable of
earning a million dollars in an ordin
ary life time.”
“I earned mine, all right.”
“I won't admit that you earned it."
“You are not obliged to; but if you
will come with me and meet the lady
whom I married in order to get that
million I think you will admit that I
earned it.”—Houston Post.
Has Reached the Senile Age.
"While he was under 30 his parents
had too much sense to let him marry.’’
"Yes?”
"While he was under 50 he had toe
much sense to wed.”
“I see.”
“Now that he's 85—”
"Well?”
"He’s going to take a wife.”—Louis
ville Courier-Journal.
Two Languages.
Fred—I hear, Jack, you have just
graduated from Harvard. What stud
ies did you take up principally?
Jack—I took up a little bit of every
thing, but studied languages consider
ably.
Fred—How many kinds of language
can you speak now?
Jack—Two. English and profane.
Seems Like It.
“Pop!”
"Yes, my son.”
“If a man meant to put 5 cents in
the church contribution box and put
in a $5 gold piece by mistake what
would you call it?”
“Why, I would call that contributory
negligence, my boy!”
The Lesson *f the Mosquito.
“Dey say dese yer mosquitoes car
ries trouble with ’uni wharever dey
goes?"
“Yes,” replied Brother Dickey, “but
still de mosquito teaches a lesson, en
dat is dat even trouble kin sing along
de way. He sings whilst he stings!”
—Detroit Free Press.
Bound to Worry.
“Bliggins will soon find no further
cause to complain of the weather,”
said the cheery citizen.
"Yes, but he won’t be happy. In
stead of watching the thermometer
all day he’ll sit up and watch the gas
meter all night.”
An Exception.
“The skies have a good deal to do
with a man’s moods.”
“I hadn't noticed it.”
“Doesn't a gloomy sky tend to make
you feel gloomy?"
‘Tes, but a blue sky doesn't make
me feel blue.”
VERY HIGH PRICED.
Mrs. De Long—I have a new milliner, dear. Don't you think my hats
are more becoming than they used to be1.
Mr. De Long—Yes, and your bills are becoming more than they used
to be.
Gallant.
“I see dat all de angels what got
wings is wimmen.”
“Well, dat’s all right en proper.
Give a man wings, en Satan would
levy on ’um ’fo’ he could fly ten
yards.”—Atlanta Constitution.
Money in Them.
“It’s remarkable how easily these
idle rumors gain currency.”
“Yes; and it’s still more remark
able how some idle stock market rum
ors enable others to gain currency.”
Most Unusual.
“My!” suddenly exclaimed Henpeck,
with a start, “I must have been dream
ing.”
“Why?” snapped his wife.
“Why, I haven’t heard you say a
word to me for fifteen minutes.
Same Old Growlers.
“We’ll soon be in cold weather.”
“Yes; but all summer you’ve
growled at the heat.”
“Yes; all I want of Providence Is a
middlin’ climate.”
No Wonder.
‘Julia!” yelled the poet, "why don’t
you keep that kid quiet? What’s the
matter with it?”
"|’m sure I don’t know,” replied his
patient wife; “I’m singing one of your
lullabies to the little darling.”
Carrying the Bluff.
McBluff—Yes, o’ course, the alli
gator is an ambidextrous animal.
Newitt —You mean, “amphibious.”
Ambidextrous mear:s dextrous with
either right or left hand.
Something Long Needed.
Mrs. Knicker—I suppose you find
new virtues in your husband every
day?
Mrs. Youngbride—Yes, he is so or
derly; he is getting up a system for
horse races.—New York Sun.
Not Suitable.
Lady—Do you think this medicine
would do my husband any- good?
Druggist I m sure of it, madam
Lady—Hum! What other kinds
have you got?—Judge.
WHIMS OF WORLD S GREAT ONES!
Men of Genius Who Have Been Noted;
for Their Eccentricity.
The men of genius whose works are;
among the world’s most precious pos-'
sessions have ever been the most
eccentric of the most normal of man
kind. says W. H. Cotton. All readers:
of “Romola” will remember Fieri di
Cosimo, that misanthropic painter
who lived completely isolated from
his fellows in his queer, squalid stu-i
dio, with its garden of weeds and flow
ers growing rankly as they willed,
because he preferred them so; his
only companions toads, rabbits, spi
ders and even more loathsome crea
tures; his diet consisting wholly of
eggs, hard-boiled, by the dozen and
eaten when required, no matter what
condition. Goya, the Spanish Rem
brandt, was the wildest and most iras
cible of men. When he was painting
the portrait of the Duke of Wellington
he kept the hero of Waterloo in a
rigid attitude for hours, at the least
movement threatening him with a
dagger, and when the duke complain
ed of weariness the painter seized a
plaster cast and hurled it at his head.
Michael Angelo's method of working
was one of his greatest eccentricities.
Often he would get up iu the middle
of the night to hack and hew his
marble by the light of a single candle
fastened to the visor of his cap. and
then, worn by his great labors, he
would throw himself down to sleep
again without removing his clothing
or his shoes—sometimes keeping the
latter on so long that when they were
removed the flesh came off with the
stockings. It is generally credited
that at one time a year passed in
which he never once removed his
shoes.—Leslie’s Weekly.
CLOTHES FOR ALL OCCASIONS.
Woman Who Has Them a Rarity and
a Relief, Says an Exchange.
She's such a relief to meet with—
the woman who always has her cloth
es ready for any occasion she may be
invited to, and she's almost as great
a rarity.
When the seasons change she puts
her mind upon the subject of clothes
with a will, and quietly decides just
what she will get to carry her through
the whole season. Then as quietly,
and as surely, she gets each thing, so
that by the time half her world is
rushing around trying to get some
thing made in time for this affair or
for that she is ready with everything
—ready to accept those invitations to
delightful affairs planned on the spur
©f the moment—thing that there isn’t
time to get something made for.
The result is she’s never hurried,
nor its almost invariable accompani
ment, flurried.
Probably she doesn’t get many
clothes, and the friends who have
closets and wardrobes filled to over
flowing, yet who complain so bitterly
that they've nothing ready to wear, or
not exactly the right thing, find her
almost provoking in her serene read
iness.
But it was hard work in the first
place, for choosing a few things that
will suit all occasions, and yet give
you a few changes, isn’t easy by any
means, and requires a mighty clever
manager.
But, she’s such a relief to invite
anywhere!—San Francisco. Cal.
Intentions.
There is no French law against
suicide, but those who have attempt
ed recently to drown themselves in
the Seine, and have failed have been
arrested and punished on the author
ity of an old law which forbids
throwing bodies into the river. One
such arrest was made recently. Tho
prisoner pleaded not guilty.
“But,” said the judge of instruction,
“you admit that you cast yourself into
the river. That is illegal.”
“The law,” said the prisoner, “pro
vides for the punishment of those
who cast dead, not living, bodies into
the river, else every one who went .
swimming in the Seine wonld be a
criminal.”
“But.” said the judge, “you intended
to be dead. You had wickedly planned
to make of yourself an offensive
corpse and with that most loathsome
thing to corrupt the waters of the
Seine. I fine you a thousand francs.”
“Very well,” remarked the prisoner.
“Take it from the sum which was con
fiscated from my pockets by the police
at the time of my arrest.”
“There was no money in your pock
ets.” said the judge.
“True,” said the prisoner, “but l
had intended that on that date there
should be a million francs there.”—
Judge.
Styles That Are Souvenirs.
Did you ever hear of how the tight
wristed blouse got its name? it is
called the “Garibaldi” blouse.
It dates frofh the Corsican leader's
days of peasantry. He was poor then,
and he used to wear an old red jer
sey with full sleeves and tight wrists.
When he became famous his soldiers
petitioned him not to cast it off. So
he wore it on through all his tri
umphs. Years after, when the Cor
sican was dead, a society lady in Lon
don fancied a blouse with the 6ame
full sleeves and drawn wristbands.
“Call it the ‘Garibaldi,’ ” suggested a
shopwalker. And they did.
There is the “Gladstone” collar and
bag. The famous statesman was the
first to wear the one and the first also
to use the other. Now every busy
man and woman has a “Gladstone."
As to the collar, this is not nearly so
popular, but it lives in memory.
Children Taught to Swim.
At this period of the year, when so
many drowming accidents occur, the
annual report of the London (Eng.)
Schools Swimming Association pos
sesses special interest. The organiza
tion, which is supported by voluntary
subscriptions, is the largest sw’im
ming association in the world, having
affiliated to it nearly 1,000 schools.
The branches are spread all over Lon
don, and every year about 5,000 cer
tificates are issued to boys who can
swim 100 yards, and to girls who can
swim fifty yards. No fewer than 60,
000 children are taken to the baths
every week and instructed in swim
ming. Life-saving is also taught. The
Roll of Honor contains the names of
forty-five boys and girls who have at
tempted to save life from drowning.
All these young people have been re
warded by the Royal Homane Society*
