HE KNEW TOO MI CH.
AS A CONSEQUENCE HIS WEDDING
COST HIM A LITTLE EXTRA.
He Wan No Jay. on HIh First Journey Away
From Homo, and Didn't Hare to Show
HI* Ticket* —He Turned Out to Be a
* Pretty Oood Sited Han After All.
C. F. Daly, general passenger agent
cf the Lake Erie and Western was stand
ing one afternoon in the Union depot
at Kansas City. The west bound
trains had backed up on their allotted
tracks and were receiving their passen
gers. A tall, well dressed man with a
lady on his arm presently approached
the rear sleeper on the Burlington train.
Mr. Daly’s experienced eye told him at
a glance that they were bride and
gToom. Without hesitation or inquiry
of any kind the man was proceeding to
hand his bride up the steps of the Pull
man sleeper when the conductor de
manded his tickets.
Oh, I have got my tickets all right, ’ ’
replied the tourist. “I know where I
am going, and I don’t need to show my
tickets to you.”
"lam very sorry at having to incon
venience you,” replied the conductor
affably, “but my instructions aro not
to allow any one to get on my train
without first seeing his tickets.”
“There is no law to make me show
you my tickets,” growled the man. “1
haven’t got to, and I don’t mean to, I
tell yon. I know where I am going,
have got mv tickets ami am able to
take care of myself. I am uo jay. out
on my first trip abroad."
“I am 6orry." again replied the con
ductor courteously, “but my i.:. unc
tions are peremptory. Stand aside,
please, and let these other passengers
into the car.”
“Oh, show him your tickets, dear,
and do not make all this fuss about so
simple a matter,” sweetly remarked
the bride.
“No, 1 will not,” replied the gentle
man. “I haven’t got to, and now that
my ire is aroused over this thing I don’t
propose to back down. I know where
I am going and howto take care of my
self.”
There is our superintendent ot car
service. You may speak to him about
this matter, ” said the conductor as he
saw his superior officer approach. ‘ ‘ If
he says you can board the car without
showing your ticket, why, it will be
all right.”
‘‘What is the trouble here?” asked
the car superintendent as he came up
to see what the altercation was about.
“Your conductor demands that I
show him my ticket before I board the
car, “replied the man. “I say I have
not got to and do not mean to. I know
where I am going and am able to look
after myself.”
“Have you got your tickets?” asked
the superintendent.
“Yes, 1 have them in my pocket all
right. 1 know what I am doing. ”
“Haveyou got your sleeping car tick
ets?”
“Yes, I have it all right in my pock
et. It is for section 7. I know wbat 1
am doing, I tell you.”
“Oh, well, let the man on the car,”
said the superintendent. “If he has
his tickets, as he says he has, it is not
worth while contending with him over
the matter and delaying the other pas
sengers. ”
The conductor stepped aside and let
the couple pass, calling the porter to
take the satchel as he did so. Present
ly the train pnlled out of the depot and
was speeding across the prairies at a
rapid rate, when the conductor began
to collect the tickets in the sleeping
car. As he did so he noticed that all
the seats in section 7 were occupied, and
he immediately surmised that there
was a peg out of place somewhere, and
that there would be more fun with the
obstreperous passenger. He kept his
counsel to himself, however, and went
<a with his collections. When he
reached section 7, he took the tickets
of the two parties occupying the seats
opposite his bridal friends, saw that
they were for that section—for the up
per and lower berths respectively—and
his surmise was thereby developed into
a certainty. Without asking the man
again for his ticket he passed through
all the other sleeping cars on tbe train,
took up all the tickets and found that
every berth was occuied without leav
ing any for his friends.
rickets, please, demanded the
train conductor. The man drew forth
his pasteboards, and the conductor ex
amined them closely.
“These tickets do cot read over this
road,” remarked the conductor as he
folded them up and handed them hack.
“This is the direct route to Denver
from Kansas City. Your tickets read
round by Pueblo.”
“ What is the fare from Kansas City
to Denver?” asked the man.
“The fare is $18.15, ” replied the train
conductor—“$36.30 for two.” The
money was counted ont without a word.
“Can you sell me a berth?” asked the
man, turning to the sleeping car con
ductor.
“I am very sorry, but every berth on
this train is sold. The best 1 can do
for yon is to pnt yon in a chair car.
There are a few seats still unoccupied
there. Porter, take this gentleman’s
traps to the chair car. ”
On reaching the door of the car the
man turned, and in a tone of voice loud
enough to be heard by every one in the
ear said:
“Conductor, at the suggestion of this
lady, my wife, I want to make yon a
humble apology for my hoggishness for
refusing to show yon my tickets in the
first place. There was no occasion for
it. I thought I could take care of my
self, but now 1 find I cannot. 1 have
had to pay for my ill breeding, hut no
more than I deserve. 1 want to apol
ogize as pnblicly as the offense was
committed. Yon have acted the gen
tleman all through this affair, and 1
now humbly apologize to yon as 1
ought. ’’—Chicago Post
THE VIOLET.
It is in IVauce in 1794. The month is
May, and Mother Nature has just awak
ened from their winter’s sleep the flow
ers, the loTeliest of her children. Afiei
such a storm as history seldom records
the last wares of the revolution are sullen
ly beating upon the land of the Burgundy
rose and Bourbon lily.
By a quick combination of old royalists
and Jacobins the new convention of Paris,
though preferred by the people, is Xkely
to be beaten by the mob. The 96 wards ot
the city on the Seine are ablaze with pas
sion. The women who dipped their hand
kerchiefs in the blood that spurted under
the guillotine when the last of the un
broken line of Louises died in the Place of
Peace are full of savagery of the ancient
days, and nothing but the red stream flow
ing anew can quench their mad thirst.
The convention is in session. It is awed
by the old royalist armies and the newer
national guards.
One commander after another has gone
over either in person or spirit to the ene
mies of peace. Barras, who leads the con
vention, is alert and ready, full of the fer
tility of expedients that characterizes the
Latin race, but he can see no hope. The
republic is lost, and mighty France, whose
traditions of honor and glory for a thou
sand years have had one nnbroken line in
history, is to lose her place among the na
tions at last, for who shall be her deliverer
from the awful cruelty of her own unnat
ural children?
The shadows of the soft May day were
growing longer when Barras, the people’s
champion, left the heated hall of the con
vention for a little rest and thought, and
his steps led him to the salon of a woman
famous in those days—for she was beauti
ful, well born and patriotic—whom he
tenderly loved. She was alone, and to
gether they spoke of the nation’s danger,
of the fear which filled each heart that
the life of the republic might soon run out
in a stream of blood.
“There is no longer a leader among ns,
chere amie,” said the great statesman and
orator, whose fervor and passion had so
touched the people’s hearts. “The end has
come.”
“Never despair. Perhaps the good God
may help us, ” softly replied the gracious
woman who was so dear to him—a woman
to fill the ideal of such a man as her lover
was; a woman brave with sweet heroism,
tender and true.
“B#h, that good God—he is so long in
coming!” said Barras. He had learned
his theology from the great orator of the
mountain who died saying, “Sprinkle me
with perfnme and crown me with flowers,
for death is but an eternal sleep. ”
“Nay, believe it not, mon ami,” sh6
softly whispered. “Help will come.
“And you say you have no leader?”
She spoke after a long silence in a musing
way, thinking aloud. “Whoare your com
manders then? Where is that droll little
man yon presented to me at Mme. deStael’s
the other evening? He seemed to have
brains an4*ourage, too—that little Corsi
can?”
“Pardie!” said Barras, springing into
new life. “Belle amie, you have given
me a thought that may yet save France!”
They talked very seriously for a few
minntes, and he returned to the conven
tion full of a new hope. Bnt before he had
left the saloon he bad written a little note
addressed to “The General of the Bri
gade, Napoleon Buonaparte”—who spell
ed his name thus until after his corona
tion as emperor—praying his immediate
presence at the convention, and a trusty
servant was charged to deliver it person
ally into M. Buonaparte’s hands and not
to fail.
“1 have sent for you, M. Buonaparte,”
said Barras an hour later to the small,
pale faced man with whom he was ear
nestly talking, “because you are our last
hope, and I will now present you to the
convention.”
“Can you restore*peace and order?” said
the president to the young man before
him. The members looked curiously on
and listened.
“So France has come to this,” whisper
ed one graybeard to his neighbor, “that
her life and fate lie in the hands of a youth
of 25”—who looked even less than his age
—“only 5 feet 2 inches in stature, with
hair combed low on his brow like a wom
an’s? Farceur va!”
“Iam perfectly aware of the difficul
ties in the path, bnt I am accustomed to
success,” said the young man, speaking
with a strong Italian or rather Corsican
accent. “Bnt one thing I must insist upon.
It is that I must not be embarrassed by
orders. I must have supreme command.
That is all.”
And bowing low to the people’s repre
sentatives the little pale man, bnt 5 feet 9
in stature, with gray brown eyes and hang
ed hair, left the hall, and the convention,
with closed doors, proceeded to consider
his proposition.
As Buonaparte left the hail Barras fol
lowed him for a last word. “Go to your
rooms and remain there,” said the poli
tician in quick speech to the young offi
cer, “and I will send yon the result as
soon as possible.”
“It must be all or nothing,” answered
the other.
oust then a aower girl came up to them
with her basket full of fragrant violets,
and Barras bought a bouquet for the wo
man he loved. The little man’s eyes soft
ened.
“They always remind me somehow of
home,” he murmnred apologetically as
he gave the seller a son and took a tiny
bouquet. A thought struck Barras.
“Go to the salon of Mme.-,” said
he, “and remain there until 10. If I suc
ceed for you, she will send you a violet.”
The young officer went as he was told.
It was early, hours before the time of re
ception, but he was admitted. The salon
was empty. Alone the young Corsican
paced the spacious room. It was 7, then
7:30, then 8. At last the clock in the hall
began to strike off 9. As its chimes ceas
ed a servant entered the room with a bil
let.
“For the General Buonaparte, from
Mme.-,” said the man as he with
drew.
Bather listlessly Buonaparte opened it,
and, lot it contained only a violet.—Ex
change.
Arizona Rubies.
The finest known garnets are obtained
in the country of the Navajo nation in
northwest New Mexico and northeast Ari
zona, where they are collected from ant
hills and scorpions’ nests by the Indians
and by soldiers stationed at adjacent forts.
The insects and arachnids mentioned fetch
them to the' surface from their burrows.
The stones are known as Arizona rubies.
They rival in beauty the garnets of the
cape of Good Hope and weigh from two
to three carats np when cut. By artificial
light they are more beautiful than those
from the cape. Most of them are of a rich
red or claret tint, but some are yellow_
Boston Transcript.
A MODEL SAVAGE.
■In{ Khama I« an Autocrat of the Bust
Pouible Type.
King Khama is a model savage, if a
black man who has been thoroughly
civilized by European and missionary
influences can still be called one. He
is an autocrat of the best possible type,
whose influence in his country is en
tirely thrown into the scale of virtue
for the suppression of vice. Such a
thing as theft is unknown in his realm.
He will not allow his subjects to make
or drink beer. He has put a stop also
to the existence of witch doctors and
their wiles throughout all the Bamang
wato.
He conducts in person services every
Sunday in his large, round kotla, or
place of assembly, standing beneath the
tree of justice and the wide canopy of
heaven in a truly patriarchal style. He
is keen in the suppression of all super
stitions and eats publicly the flesh of
the duyker, a sort of roebuck, which
was formerly the totem of the tribe and
held as sacred among them 20 years
ago. The late King Sikkome, Khama’s
father, would not so much as step on
a duyker skin, and it is still looked up
on with more veneration by his sub
jects than Khama would wish.
As an instance of Khama’s power and
judgment, it is sufficient for us to quote
the sudden change of his capital from
Shoshong to the present site, Palapwe.
Shoshong was in a strong position,
where the Bam angwato could effectual
ly protect themselves from the Mata
beles’ raids under Lobengula, but it was
badly supplied with water, and in dry
seasons the inhabitants suffered greatly
from drought. The change of capital I
had been a subject discussed for years,
but Khama waited quietly until people
began to think that he was against it
and would never move. He waited, in
fact, until he was sure of British pro
tection, until he knew that Lobengula
could not attack his people at Palapwe
without embroiling himself in a war
with England.
men suauemy one aay, witiiom any
prefatory warning, King Khaina gave
orders for the move, and the exodus
began on the next day, and in two
months’ time 15,000 individuals were
located in their new capital, 60 miles
away from Shoshong. Under Khama’s
direction, everything was conducted in
the best possible order. To every man
was given his allotted ground, and he
was told to build his huts thereon. Not
a single dispute arose, and no one would
imagine today that only a few years
ago Palapwe was uninhabited.
Khaina, in manner and appearance,
is thoroughly a gentleman, dignified
and courteous. He wears well made
European clothes, a billycock hat and
gloves; in his hand he brandishes a
dainty cane, and he pervades every
thing in his country, riding about
from point to point wherever his pres
ence is required, and if he is just a lit
tle too much of a dandy it is an error
in his peculiar case in the right direc
tion.—Contemporary Review.
Teapot Collectors.
Tea was not known in England till
the time of Charles II, but it is inter
esting to trace the gradual increase in
the size of teapots, from the diminutive
productions of the Elers, in the time
of Queen Anne and George I, when tea
was sold in apothecaries’ shops, to the
capacious vessel which supplied Dr.
Johnson with “the cup that cheers but
not inebriates.” Mr. Croker, in his edi
tion of “Boswell’s Life,” mentions a
teapot -that belonged to Dr. Johnson,
which held two quarts, but this sinks
into insignificance compared with the
superior magnitude of that in the pos
session of Mrs. Marrayat of Wimbledon,
who purchased it at the sale of Mrs.
Piozzi’s effects at Streatham. This tea
pot, which was the one originally used
by Dr. Johnson, holds more than three
quarts. George IV had a large assem
blage of teapots, piled in pyramids in
the pavilion at Brighton. Mrs. Eliz
abeth Carter was also a collector of tea
pots. Also Mrs. Hawes, who bequeathed
300 specimens to her daughter, Mrs.
Donkin. Among them are several be
longing to Queen Charlotte. — Salas
Journal.
White Blood Absorbing the Hawaiian.
The marriage of young American men
to half whites is becoming quite fre
quent among respectable white families
in Hawaii. It is of no use for the for
eign parents to turn the cold shoulder.
Ofttimes tbe half white girls are fully
equal in intelligence, taste and domes
tic virtues to those who marry them.
There will be more of these marriages,
and the mixed blood will improve with
growing prosperity and better educa
tion, and as the primitive influences and
environments decrease with the lapse of
generations. Indeed one way that the
Hawaiian population is now decreas
ing is not so much by the disappearance
as by the dilution or by whitening of
the blood.—New York Evening Post.
The Obliging J ary man.
Some jurymen have too low an opin
ion of what some philosophers call their
ego and are willing to depute their du
ties to an alter ego. When Mr. Justice
Gould had been about two hours trying
a case at York, he noticed there were
but 11 jurymen in the box. “Please,
my lord, ” replied the foreman in an
swer to the judge’s natural inquiry,
“the other has gone away about some
business he had to do, but he has left
his verdict with me.”—London Illus
trated News.
Terrible Death of an Inventor.
A chemist named Liardet met a
shocking death at Melbourne recently.
He was engaged in his laboratory in
some experiments with a powerful ex
plosive, which he had just succeeded in
inventing after years of patient labor
and at an outlay of several fhousands
of pounds, when the substance explod
ed, with the result that the unfortunate
man was blown to pieces, his mangled
remains being projected right through
a wooden partition. — Melbourne Ga
lette.
SHORTHAND WRITERS
THOUSANDS TAUGHT STENOGRAPHY
EACH YEAR IN AMERICA.
A Few Expert* Receive Rich Salaries.
The Art Not a New One, a» It Date* Rack
to Cicero, Who Used More Thao 7,000
Characters—New York's Veteran.
There are more stenographers in New
York and its vicinity than there are
lawyers or doctors. But not all of them
are competent-. A first class shorthand
writer is very difficult to find, and if
he is a fast writer he is sure of a good
salary.
Shorthand writing as a means of earn
ing a livelihood is not as lucrative as
many other callings, bnt it affords a
young man, if he is quickwitted, a fine
chance to watch the internal workings
of a business house, and thereby helps
him toward a business education such
as he conld get in no other way.
The only field that is highly remu
nerative is law reporting, hut to become
competent for this work requires years
of assiduous practice, and the field of
employment is limited. The highest
salary paid to a court stenographer in
New York is in the surrogate's court.
Mr. Edward F. Underhill, probably the
oldest practicing stenographer in Amer
ica, holds this position and receives a
salary of $3,000 per year. He has been
in the service since 1849.
The municipal departments and courts
in New York city pay annually in sal
aries for stenographic services $154,
000. This salary list includes 90 ste
nographers, 27 of whom are conrt re
porters, each receiving $2,500, and 19
$2,000 annually as salary. In addition
to this, however, all court stenographers
are allowed by the code 10 cents per fo
lio of 100 words, for furnishing copies
of transcripts to the parties interested
in any case when desired.
uptown at ddii west l wenty-tmra
street the stenographers of New York
have a clnb, where they meet each oth
er socially. In connection with the
club is a “classroom,” where the mem
bers may practice the art of shorthand
writing. Here nearly every evening are
gathered scores of ambitions young
shorthanders industriously driving their
pens for love of perfection in their
craft, while some one of experience
reads or dictates. The classroom is
provided with all the different styles of
typewriting machines for the use of
members when there is no dictation.
The clnb also maintains an employ
ment bureau. The club is open to ei
ther sex. In fact, it is the large mem
bership of young ladies that gives zest
to the social side of the clnb, which is
one of its important features. In the
winter the club gives receptions, enter
tainments, occasionally a dinner and
once every year a ball.
In many of the public schools of the
country stenography is a part of the
training. An evidence of its recent re
markable growth is shown by a circu
lar issued by the bureau of education at
Washington.
Here it is shown that from July 1,1889,
to June 30, 1890, 57,375 persons receiv
ed instruction in the art of shorthand
in schools and colleges in the United
States. Five thousand five hundred and
fifty of these were in New York and
Brooklyn. A similar circular was is
sued by the bureau in 1884, in which it
was shown that daring the year 1882
the number of pupils receiving such
instruction was 12,470. It is therefore
quite safe to say that the number for
1893 exceeded 75,000.
But this number does not take into
consideration an army probably equal
ly large who receive instruction from
some other source or from professional
stenographers.
Out of this vast army, however, but
a very small minority are either phys
ically or mentally qualified to become
court reporters or even office amanuen
ses.
Cicero is said to have been the invent
or of shorthand writing, and the freed
man, Marcus Tullius Tiro, his friend,
the first stenographer, ’and he undoubt
edly did use a method of shorthand
writing as early as 60 B. C.
The first English treatise was by Tim
othe Bright, entitled ‘ * An Arte of Shorte
Swifte and Secrete Writing by Charac
ture, Indented by Timothe Bright, Doc
tor of Phisike. Imprinted at London by
I. Windet, the Assingee of Tim Bright,
1588. Cum priuilegie Regiae Maiesta
tis. Forbidding all others to print the
same.”
jjt. migm m inis wora says: vjicero
did account it worthie his labour, and
no leas profitable to the Roman common
■weale (Most Gracious Soueraigne), to
inuent a speedie kinde of wryting by
character, as Plutarch reporteth in the
life of Cato the younger. This inven
tion was increased afterward by Seneca:
that the number of characters grue to
7,000. Whether through inure of time,
or that the men gaueit over for tedions
ness of learning, nothing remaineth ex
tant of Cicero’s inuention at this day.”
Every stenographer who recalls the
efforts required to properly master the
few characters used in the art today
will not wonder that of Cicero's system,
with its 7,000 characters, nothing re
mains at this day.
It was not until 1642 that the art be
came of any practical use, and it was
first used in the house of lords in 1699
in taking testimony in a divorce suit.
Stenographers were not regularly em
ployed in parliament, however, until
1802.—New York World.
Undaunted by Defeat.
While female suffrage has carried the
day in New Zealand, it has experienced
defeat in South Australia, where the
adult suffrage bill, which embodied the
principle, was rejected in the popular
house on the third reading, but only by
a narrow majority. The friends of the
cause, however, are not at all discour
aged and will return to the battle with
undaunted spirits till victory crowns
their efforts.—Melbourne Letter.
CTatgcaCTMBBuwwKwrwBwi wn t:'»——rr^* irnnw— rm*nr.
A WRECK.
A little 80 ton schooner ashore, almost
in the identical spot off which one of the
large lake steamers had grounded one year
before, lip in a shady spot on the shore,
jnst above the little schooner, was the
wreck of a small shanty, likewise an evi
dence of the severity of the gale, it having
come down upon the heads of its inmates
during the same night.
These two--Ned Fairly and Fred Can
field—were camping in the open air since
the disaster, and sleeping under the prop
ped up roof, the interest in a gang of men
working on the beached schooner being
too strong for them to find time to patch
up the shanty.
A tug had parted a 3% inch hawser try
ing to draw the Plow Boy off.
Captain Jackson, a short, sandy bearded
man, with a very red face, was shouting
orders and encouragement all day long.
She was dug under and long beams used
in attempts to pry her up and off, in the
manner of the Mississippi steamboat men.
On the fifth day of the little cruft’s
stay on the shore, she was deserted by the
workers in a body. They held a council
at the noon hour; asked for their pay, and
when it was not forthcoming threw up the :
job.
At first Captain Jackson went and snt
on the cabin house of his little vessel in ap
parent indecision. Toward night Fred
saw him picking his way up the sand bank
toward the ruing of the shanty.
He had come to ask them if they would
be sbipkeepers for him while be ran down
to Buffalo to trytopai.se tbe funds; be
could not offer them provisions, for the
last of the little vessel’s stores had gone
to feed the hands who had deserted her.
But the boys were only too delighted to
exchange the tumbledown shanty for the
snug cabin of the little Plow Boy, and
they began shifting the hardtack, soups
and other canned edibles of their store
aboard cheerily.
The next night the western sky looked
threatening. This was late in September,
and fall gales might be expected at any
time. Ned took a long look about before
he drew the cabin slide. s
By midnight the storm had broken, and
the pounding, gushing surf made shout
ing the only mode of conversation practic
able. The wind whistled through the
rigging of the little vessel in long wails. |
Ban-els and barrels of water were beiDg
hurled upon the top of the cabin and hec i
decks—she could even be felt to sway at
the blows of some of the heavier seas.
“Let’s take a look out,” Fred proposed.
To have opened any of the cabin win
dows would have deluged the little apart
ment. The chnms crawled down through
the door into the hold and thence to the
forward deck by way of the forecastle.
Climbing upon the bulwarks and cling- I
tog to the forestay, a stirring sight lay In-- i
fore and about them.
The Plow Boy was as completely sur
rounded by water as though she were
afloat, the seas breaking far up on the
shore and all about her. It would have
been a hazardous undertaking to have at- |
tempted to have gono ashore.
“Fred!” halloed Ned in his companion's '
ear suddenly, “this is as big a gale as she
came ashore in, and the water’s higher,
because it’s blowing down the lake. I’ve
been thinking—are you in fora big trip?”
“You don’t mean we can do anything?”
shouted Fred back.
“We might get her off and riding to the
anchor if we could get the cable forward.
The way it is made fast jnst now would
only make her bow swing in further if she
works loose.”
Wet to the skin—more nearly drowned—
they managed to reach the wheel, when,
working knee deep in swirling water most
of the time, they were able to cast off the
heavy cable from the sheet bits at last.
Fortunately the ship’s end of the long I
cable was still at her bow, so that they j
only had to cast the part they loosened
overboard, or they might have been drawn
over the side in the attempt to carry it for
ward.
Clinging to the bulwarks like parrots,
they worked their way forward again,
manned the windlass and took in the slack
of the big line as much as they were able.
Nor were they any too soon in doiDg so.
“Boom!” a great sea struck the little
vessel and the boy3 felt her rise from the
sand. The rushing power of water tried to
sweep her down the beach and in, but the
cable’s resistance could be distinctly felt.
If the long line held, the boys knew it
would draw the little craft off with every
sea that tried to wash her farther in and
down the dark shore.
With a thrill that set both boys shout
ing they soon felt the little Plow Boy ris
ing, falling and pitching on the inrushing
waves as she swung loose from the shore—
the little schooner was off!
Then followed a night of heaving and
rolling and backaching work at the pumps
—for the vessel leaked quite a little—that
Ned and Fred say they vill never forget.
They did not grow seasick, because
there was no time to tbl»k of it. But they
have since declared that they would not
have missed the experience for worlds.
The storm eased up in the morning,
when the lighthouse skiff brought old
Captain Jackson out tothem; norwas there
ever a very much more pleased man than
he.
They helped him sail her into Erie har
bor, when he pressed them to be cabin
passengers on her later run to Buffalo.—
Conyers C. Converse.
Fared to His Fate.
They sat in the parlor, gazing at the
natural gas flames as they chased each
other over the asbestus surface.
The two were Miss Belleiield and Mr.
Van Brat; m. and the young man was in
love with the young woman. He was
doubtful of her feelings toward him, how
ever, for she was not a girl to display her
love, if she had any, until it was sought. '
The young man had not spoken. He dread
ed the ordeal. He was fearful of the re
sult. The conversation turned upon mar
riage, and in the course of the discussion
Miss Belleiield said:
“In Burmah the women propose to the:
men.”
“How I wish we were in Burmah,” the
young man replied, with a slight stress
on the plural pronoun.
“It wouldn’t do you any good if we
were,” replied the girl, and Mr. Van
Braam did not linger much longer that
evening.—New York Recorder.
Anonjmoas.
“What's the most insnltin ting yez kin 1
do till a mon?” asked the janitor as one 1
of the tenants entered the building.
“I don’t know. I suppose an anony
mous letter is about the most disagreeable
thing known.”
“That’s it. f’U Bind wan to Clanty. Be
way of icsultin me lasht noigbt he kem
bound an cut the whisker off me goat.
Oi’ll wroite him au anonymous lettber.
That he can make no mistakes if he fads
‘.oike foightin, be gob Oi’ll soign me name
iillit.”—Washington Star.
CURIOSITIES OF SEEING.
Remarkable i:xj>irim<n!s Which Show
How !:«iily the Eye h Deceived.
Some very remarkable exiieriments,
which any one, with a little care, may
repeat for himself, have recently been
mutlt; on the perspective effects of color.
If on n screen of black velvet placed
about TO feet away largo letters are
pasted, some bine and some red, the let
ters will not appear to be at an equal
distance from the eyes. To some per
sons the red letters will soem nearer
than the bine letters, while to others
the contrary effect will be manifested,
the blue letters appearing nearer than
the red ones.
To produce this curious effect both
eyes must be used. When one eye is
closed, the letters are all seen at the
same distance. On opening the other
eye one set of letters immediately ap
pears to take a position in advance of
the others.
The explanation offered is that a sort
of stereoscopic effect is produced in the
eye itself, depending on color. The im
age of a blue object is shifted by the
eye toward one side, and that of a red
object toward the other side, the cause
of the shifting being the eccentricity of
the pupil of the eye.
This eccentricity may be increased by
holding a black screen close to the eye
so as to cover one-half of the pupil.
The effect is best viewed by screening
both pupils at the same time. If on
looking at blue and red letters on a black
background placed 10 or 13 feet away
you see the red letters nearer than the
blue ones, screen off one-balf of the pu
pil of each eye, on the outside, and you
will then see the red letters retire be
hind the blue ones.
if you screen the pupils on tlio side
toward the nose, you*will see the red
letters advance apparently still farther
ahead of the blue letters.
If, on the other hand, you naturally
see the blue in advance, screen the in
ner side of your pupils, and the red will
come to the front.
It has lately been shown by Dr. A.
D. Waller that very beautiful effects
can be produced with one eye alone
when, instead of letters, red or blue
rings are pasted on a background of
the opposite color. Placing red rings
on blue paper and using the right eye
with the inner side of the pupil cov
ered, the appearance is that of circular
red hillocks resting upon a blue ground.
To produce this effect in its highest
degree the pajier should be held to tbe
left and sloping in that direction. When
the onter side of the pnpil is screened,
the red ring become circular trenches in
the blue paper.—Youth's Companion.
Ineffectual.
In country places where amusement
is not abundant and people depend upon
each other for diversion, neighborly fa
miliarity naturally flourishes, and the
habit of “running in” to visit friends
may be carried to an unpleasant excess.
A family living in North Carolina
found it something of a strain upon
their ideas of hospitality to be obliged
every day to entertain a tedious woman
of 80. The favorite book or the neces
sary piece of work had to be put aside
in order to shout bits of conversation in
her ear.
At last the father, in desperation,
planned to go into a sudden fit of tem
per in the presence cf the obnoxious
caller in the hope of convincing her that
they were not pleasant people to visit.
Accordingly one evening, when he re
turned from business and found the old
lady present as usual, he began to talk
loudly and in an irritate(T voice. Then,
growing more excited, he stamped about
the room, knocking furniture right and
left and ended by going out and bang
ing the door after him.
The old lady knitted away quietly
through the confusion, and when the
man was gone she turned to the family
and said in a comforting voice:
"I reckon it was mighty lucky I was
here, or you’d had to take it. But yon
needn’t be frightened. I’ll stay right
herewith you till he gets over it.”—
Exchange.
Commodores by the Hundred.
A fellow mem tier of the cabinet call
ed on Secretary Herbert one day shortly
after the inauguration. His face was
not familiar, and he was stoppo u at
the door.
“Are you a commodore?” asked the
messenger.
The cabinet member caught his
breath and said he wasn’t.
“Then you can't go in,” said the
messenger decidedly.
It took some explanation to set things
right. The cabinet member was a
“commodore." but he did not know it
“Commodores,” in the understanding
of the navy department messengers, aie
not those of that official rank. Senators
and representatives and all of such offi
cial positions and relations as entitle
them to prompt admission to the secre
tary are “commodorfes.”—St. Louis
Globe- Democrat.
A Maine Stage Une.
There is a cross country stage lino
from Abbott Village, Me., on the Pis*
oataquis river, to Bingham, on the Ken
nebec, the only intervening settlements
being Kingsburg and Mayfield, both
such small villages that they are scarce
ly distinguishable from the surrounding
conntry. The length of the route is
over 25 miles, and it is doubtful if there
are many more than 50 occupied dwell
ing houses on the main road along the
line.—Lewiston Journal.
An Observant Michigander** DiscLVcrj.
“Bid you ever notice.” said M. B.
Church of Grand Rapids at the Nor
tnandie, “that the Washington menu
ment has the exact dimension? • * sn
ocean steamship? It has. It is 550 feet
long and 55 feet at the base. J ust com
pare these figures with those of the lead
ing Atlantic linera. and you will find
that they are .tust about the same—
length 10 times the beam and depth. It
is the sntcome of symmetry.”—Wash
ington Post.
— - i