The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, May 25, 1894, Image 3

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    the blizzard.
A piercing shriek, a maddening swirl,
f And the blinding storm is on.
The windswept branches writhe and curl.
The fence and the road are gone.
Not a landmark remains on the yawning
plaint,.
And the storm and the night are one.
There are needles of sleet in the icy blast
That pushes against the pane.
There are choking biliou s of snow that cast
Their eddying depths attiain
And whirl with a cry through the falling
sky
That moves upon the plain.
Against the biaek in huddled fear
The unhoused cattle wait.
Prom out the storm rack, shrill and clear,
A horse neighs for his mate.
While a man in the storm with sturdy form
Is battling with his fate.
Alas! oh, storm, for the days that dawn
When thy secrets shall be read.
Alas! for the aching hearts at home.
With their sickening weight of dread.
Alas! for tho one who will not come
Till the snows give up their dead.
—Youth’s Companion.
GUILTY HANDS.
Yes, sir, it was the spring of 1665.
Yon could tell that from the way the
clouds blew up from Richmond, but the
inhabitants of “ole Squire Godbolt’s”
quarters were the only ones who knew
that sign. Harm Huldy originated the
idea. She would stand in the midst of
a conclave <*f woolly heads, and pointing
to shadowy clouds just rising above the
horizon would roll her eyes in most orac
ular fashion, and her words would
emerge ponderously, as the telling blows
of a sledge hammer.
“De smoke am ’eenilin,” she would
say, “and de Yanks am hirtin hard.
Chilian, we am gwine to lebe here
soon. ’ ’
No one doubted her. They had great
faith in Marin Huldy, and she told their
fortunes in coffee grounds and chased
the witches away from their beds. But
there was one man who did not believe
in signs. That was Terror Fire. He
would grunt disdainfully at her prognos
tications and heap ridicule upon her
signs.
“Nebber yo’ min, Terror Fire,” she
would scream wrathfnlly, “some obmy
signs am gwine ter be yo’ ondoin. Now,
yo’ min. Yo’ ain't done been bit fo’
times by a moccasin fer nuttin. Dat’s
sign enuff dat de debble am in yer.
Now, all yo’ niggers hear me talkin?”
“We hears yo’, Harm Huldy,” they
would say, and Terror Fire would laugh
a loud, slow laugh and trot off to his
cabin. He was great, Terror was. He
was the surly, cynical Diogenes of the
plantation, and Squire Godbolt often
found it in his heart, to obstruct some of
bis sunshine, and once he was aided and
abetted by Marm Huldy. You see it
tame about this wav:
Attached to the “big house"’ and not
far from the quarters there was a poul
try yard, and in this poultry yard there
flourished and grew many fowls of both
sexes. They were beautiful birds and
the pride of Sira Godbolt’s heart. Very
well. There were more hens than roost
ers; consequently the latter were rare
and much prized. However, there were
several roosters, but one big fellow, who
was sultan of the harem. He “ruled the
roost,” and every morning just at day
his voice was the first living sound to
be heard. This fellow was named Adam
and was the apple of Mrs.Godbolt "s eye.
She knew his crow from all the others
and every morning would arouse herself
to catch the liquid notes of his early
salutation; then she would fall asleep
again, satisfied that he was there.
But one day she awoke and listened,
and listened in vain, for the call of the
chanticleer. The shades of midnight
vanished, and the rising sun peeped in
through the cracks, and still no sound
had loused the sleeping world. Not a
cock had crowed. They were waiting for
the great lord to have hi6 ‘ ‘say, ’' but the
great lord’s voice was silent, and Mrs.
Godbolt's heart shuddered within her.
She awoke the squire, and together they
repaired to the fowlhouse. There, on
the roosts and in the nests and on the
ground, were all the chickens, safe and
sound, all but—Adam. Mrs. Godbolt
gave a little scream, and the squire
rushed into the house and blew the horn.
Madly, fiercely, he blew it, and the
sounds brought all the negroes into the
yard.
“Now,” said Squire Godbolt, “I '
want you all to listen, for I have got
something to say. You are all paying
attention?”
“Yes, sah,” they chorused, and Maxm
Hnldy whispered, “De ’mancipation am
done come; de smoke am a ’cendin from
Richmond. ”
But she was wrong; the next words
showed how wrong, and scattered all
ecstatic hopes.
“Well,” roared the squire, “Adam
is gone, and I am going to find him.
Now, the nigger who has that rooster
step up and hand him over. ”
His words fell like a thunderbolt
They all knew Adam, and they saw
from the squire's determined look that
he meant what he said.
“Hand him over,” reiterated the
squire, and every negro's knees shook.
“But we ain’t got him, squire, an
how can we hail him ober when we
ain’t got him?”
It was 1 error r ire who spoke, ana
some of them wondered at his nerve, but
Marm Hnldy smiled and shook her head.
“Thunderaticn!” yelled the sqnire.
“Well, he's gone, and somebody’s got
him, and I mean to find ont where he is. ”
They argued there for two hours, and
at the end of that time were no wiser
than at first. Then Marm Hnldy came
to the rescue. She stepped up to the
squire, and dropping a “curtsy” wished
to have a word in private. The negroes
were dtunfounded.
“Marm Hnldy couldn't a-stole dat
rooster.” they said. “Marm Hnldy am
hones’!”
But whatever Mam Hnldy was con
fessing it pleased the squire, and he
bowed his head and smiled two or three
times during the discourse. Then Marm
Huldv stepped back, and the 'sqnire ad
vanced to the front.
“Yon may all go now,” he said, "but
tonight at 7 o’clock I want to see yon
all back in this yard—every chick and
child. ” And they departed.
Many if them ah tinned Marm Huldv’t
cabin during the day, but the old wom
an was busy up at the “big house” ant;
was not aware of it
Nipht came and with it all the hands
from the quarters. They were all there
at 7 o'clock sharp. Ten minutes pas’
Squirt- Godbolt came out and after hii
Marm Hnldy and two Boys with a great,
black pot The squire drew a circle an
placed the inverted pot in the center
Then he turned to the crowd.
"Ivow, lie said, “all of you see that
pot? Well, that is to decide who stoh
Adam. ” There was a show of interest
“Adam is gone, and he has got to be
found, or his approximate whereabouts.
Now, all of you step up. I am going tc
extinguish the light, and it will be dark.
Thou all of you walk around that pot,
touching it with your two hands as you
pass. Let your palms come down full
upon it Yon all see that pot. It has been
washed, but after the test and the light
is turned on the guilty man will have
soot upon his hands. Now, out with the
light, and here goes. ”
They formed in a ring and around the
pot they passed, some slapping it hard
so the sound could be heard.
“There, now!” called the squire,
“all around. Very well. On with the
light and hand up your hands. ’ ’
The light was made and the negroes
passed by fer inspection. But what was
their consternation, for on every pair oi
hands there was a coat of soot! One by
one they came, with sorrow depicted on
their faces—all but Terror Fire’s. He
grinned broadly and showed the whites
of his eyes philosophically.
“Come on,” called the squire, and
Terror stepped up glibly. “Hold out
your hands. ’ ’ He passed them out, and,
lo and behold, they were clean!
“Ah.” said the squire, “here is the
rogue, ” and Terror’s grin folded behind
his ears.
“He was afraid to touch the pot He
was afraid the soot would stick to his
hands. Now, Terror, up and confess. ”
Terror's knees shook beneath him, but
the evidence was convincing. Was there
not a half of Adam still hidden under
the bed?
He confessed, and some more of his
sunshine was obstructed. Marrn Huldy
laughed and shook her fat sides with
glee.
“What Itellyo’?” she asked. ‘ ‘ What
I tell yo'. Terror Fire? Dis nigger am
no fool—she know, an I tell yo’ dat
sign nebber fail. De smoke am ’cend
in from Richmond, an dese niggers’
gwine left here soon, but I tell yo',
Terry, de signs am dat yo’s gwine lef’
yo'r hide behin. ”—Elizabeth A. Hines
in Atlanta Constitution.
Plants and Animals.
The reasons why a plant should al
ways be called a plant, and an animal
an animal, are not always very appar
ent. An animal is a conscious being. I
mean that it knows how to discriminate
between this and that, reasons about
what is good for it, rejects what expe
rience has informed it is not good for it
and has special senses. It is a conscious
being—indeed reasons, discriminates.
Here is a great gulf between the ani
mal and the plant! Most of us are ready
to acknowledge such simple truths, and
we are all wrong, for the differences
when sifted are only those of a greater
and lesser degree. Some plants like
shade; some like light. Why? Well, why
do we under some circumstances prefer
dark and under others light? When we
are healthy, we can digest meat and re
ject with good reason a meal of sticks
and stones. A carnivorous plant receives
and digests a proportionate meat meal,
but feed it with pebbles and bits of stick,
and it refuses to receive such dainties.
We bend beneath a blow, we protect
ourselves from further injuries that we
judge may follow—so do the sensitive
plants.
With the aid of a specialist, in this
class of work I am trying to demonstrate
the presence of nervous tissue in plants.
So far we have not been successful, but
the circumstantial evidence is so strong
that we may feel quite certain that bet
ter methods of demonstration will give
ocular evidence of what we seek. The
proofs of the struggle for existence in
both animal and plant life have been
prettily told by Taylor.—Gentleman’s
Magazine.
Slang, Cant and Argot.
Mr. Hayward said that we must be
careful in dealing with Elizabethan
slang not to judge it entirely by present
day standards. Much of it is now recog
nized English, while much of our mod
ern slang was good Elizabethan English.
The word “slang” is of comparatively
modem origin. The older word, which
“slang” to some extent replaces, is
“cant,” the name given to the secret
language of thieves, rogues and vaga
bonds. introduced into England by the
gypsies in the reign of Henry VTTT. Har
rison. in his description of Elizabethan
England, records that the first deviser
of “Canting” or “Peddler’s French”
was hanged by the neck.
The “cant" language was a strange
medley of Hebrew, Latin, Sanskrit,
Greek, "Wallachian, Spanish, Flemish,
Dutch, Celtic and bastard Italian. The
practice of such speech is worldwide.
We have the French “argot, ” the Span
ish “Germania,” the Italian “gergo, ”
and even the vagabonds among the Hot
tentots have their secret language,
known as “cuxzecat” The first lexicog
rapher to recognize the word “slang”
in its present sense was Grose, in 1785.
Thomas Harman, in his “Caveat or
Warning to Common Cursitors” (1566),
describes 23 varieties of rogues and vag
abonds and gives a list of cant words
and their meaning.—Academy.
Refayed on Principle.
“Nc. ” Raid the young woman haugh
tily in response to his request as they sat
an the porch in the twilight. “I will not
let yon hold my hand. I don’t believe in
such conduct for a young lady.
“And besides,” she added after a
pause, “it isn’t dark enough yet”—
Chicago Record.
THE EVENING STAR.
By the rapt ardor of my gaze
I sought to hold the evening star
Above the dark horizon bar.
Where, l&raplike, swung its mellow blaze.
But toward the deepening glow it drew.
And nearer to the crimson belts
Wherein the amber affluence melts.
Seeking for heavens fresh and new.
So sought I once to hold a soul,
* Fair as the holy star of night.
Above the earth line, in mv sight.
By force of Love’s supreme control.
But glory ward it dipped and drew.
Nor staid for ardor of my gaze,
2Jassing from out our earthly ways
To those far heavens which are the new.
—Mrs. Merrill E. Gates m Youth’s Companion.
A LOYAL HINDOO.
My seirant Sajad was by no means an
extraordinary fellow. I picked him np
in Benares one scorching afternoon in
midsummer. I was in want of a kit
mntgar, and he seemed to have nothing
to do. He could not speak one word of
English, and, to tell the truth, that was
the first and only recommendation upon
which I engaged him.
In religion he was a Mussulman, but
he was far from being devout Indeed I
very soon rated him as rather below the
average in everything. However, as I
did not require anything remarkable,
we got on well enough to the end, for
he followed me, poor fellow, to his death.
Steal? Most decidedly. He would in
variably steal any tiling belonging to me
that attracted his fancy. If I discovered
it and went about it in the right way, I
could usually get it back.
Sajad never left me for an hour from
the time he entered my service. He fol
lowed me all day and slept on a rug at
my door or lay on the sand at my feet
or just outside my tent at night, as the
case might be, and he received just as
many lectures on veracity and made just
as many promises as the time allowed,
but I am sure that he told me just as
many lies the last week of his life as he
did the first week he was with me. It is
as much the nature of the oriental to lie
and steal as it is of a dog to bark at a
horse or of a cat to help herself to
cream.
One who expects too much is apt to
give credit for too little That may be
the reason the Hindoo has such a bad
reputation in the minds of some who
mean to be just, or even generous. Many
a good turn Sajad did me right in the
line of those two traits. It takes a
rogue to catch a rogue, and I know that
he saved me from being robbed by oth
ers many times over for all that he took
himself, while he would detect a lie in
what any one else told me as quickly as
a negro boy in old Virgin’ would spot a
ripe watermelon.
We were marching through the Terai
once with a small detachment. A sol
dier was leading my horse, while I
walked upon one side of the path, fol
lowed at a little distance by Sajad,
hunting for a bird I had shot and which
had fallen in the tall grass. Suddenly
there was a cry from those behind. I
looked quickly over my shoulder. A
hooded cobra, disturbed by the commo
tion I was making, had risen out of the
grass just behind me. His flat head and
flaring hood were already thrown back
for a final fling at me. His half open
mouth was within three feet of my face
when my eyes rested upon it. If I turn
ed, I should only expose more of my
face. If I lifted a hand, he would strike
it quicker than lightning. There was no
chance to get away, and I was utterly
helpless.
Before I had time to think a second
thought, however, Sajad made one leap
from where he was standing, and be
fore his feet had touched the ground he
had brought his staff about with a sharp
whir as it cut the air, too quick even
for a snake to dodge, and the next in
stant the cobra’s body was writhing in
the grass, while his head, completely
severed, fell at my feet
Had Sajad waited an instant he would
have been too late No one else could
have reached me, yet if he had missed
his aim or the snake had dodged his
own life would have paid the forfeit
No one knew it better than Sajad, but
he took the chance and saved my life
He had in his girdle at the time a bright
colored silk handkerchief which he had
stolen from me, and only that morning
had solemnly declared that he knew
nothing about it
up in tne mils one aiternoon 1 was ly
ing on a low tent bed taking a nap,
when Sajad saw a poisonous insect, a
kind of scorpion, crawling over my pil
low. He had nothing near to use as a
weapon and no time to lose. He caught
it in his naked hand and threw it out of
the tent door. 1 woke in time to see it
flying through the air, and hurrying out
killed it before it got away.
I called to Sajad to ask if he had es
caped a sting, and receiving a cheerful
reply in the affirmative thought no
more about it till, chancing to enter the
tent softly and unexpectedly, I found
him sucking the back of his right hand
for dear life He stopped the instant he
saw me and put the hand behind him.
lie poison had already begun to take
effect The hand and arm were swell
ing, and before long Sajad was lying on
the floor writhing in agony. The only
antidotes I had were ammonia and whis
ky. Sajad knew the contents of both
bottles, for he had the care of all my
traps. I did my best for him with the
ammonia, but utterly in vain a pleaded,
begged, commanded that he take the
whisky. He would not touch it
Why? Only because he was a Mussul
man. No matter how intense his agony
or determined my command he put his
well hand over his mouth and shook his
head. He felt sure that he was dying,
and he believed my assertion that the
whisky might save him, but that made
no difference. He came so near to death
that he was past seeing anything and
beyond hearing. He lay upon the ground,
just breathing, panting, as though he
was almost at the end. It seemed useless
to try again, and yet, now that he was
unconscious, I could at least make a
last, desperate trial with the whisky.
The moment that it touched his lips, he
Struggled away, clutched his lips with
his hand and shook his head.
I believe the very fear that I should
succeed in giving him the whisky kept
him alive till the poison began to lose
its power. At all events he did not die.
Sajad was as fond of hunting as L
Many a time we two slipped, away from
camp in the grdV of early morning.
Once, jnst before daylight, I was out
with my shotgun in a thinly wooded
jungle a mile from camp upon the
shore of a small lake, waiting for birds.
It was just my luck. Because I came
prepared for birds, there was not one in
sight, but three beautiful antelope came
down to drink within a hundred feet of
us. I looked at the shotgun in disgust
Then looked again at the antelope. It
was exasperating. I was determined to
have a shot, at any rate, and in the hope
that I might stun one of them or at least
bewilder him for an instant I whisper
ed to Sajad to be ready with his knife
and make a dash the moment I fired.
Cautiously I raised the gun to my
shoulder and was pressing the trigger,
when Sajad touched me and whispered:
“Wait, sahib! Look there!”
1 looked, and my shotgun tell. At a
slight angle, but little more than half
way between ns and the antelope, there
crouched a royal Bengal tiger. A single
glance was sufficient. He was surely a
man eater. Evidently he had been on
the point of satisfying his hunger with
an antelope when he caught sight of na
He was within an easy leap of the deer,
but was deliberately turning away and
facing ua The motion startled the deer,
and they bounded off, but the tiger paid
them no further attention. The huge
creature opened his great jaws till his
head seemed nothing but a red, yawn
ing gullet bordered by long, ragged,
glistening teeth, and with a savage
snarl be began to approach ns.
There was no need of looking about
for a place of safety. The jungle was
sparsely wooded at the best, and the
largest tree we had passed in coming
from camp would not have borne even
Sajad’s weight 10 feet from the
ground. Sajad had only his hunting
knife, I nothing but my shotgun.
“One of us must go, sahib,” Sajad
muttered, without taking his eyes from
the tiger. “If we run together, we shall
both go. He will overtake us in a mo
ment. Let Allah decide as it is written
in our foreheads. Run that way for
your life, sahib. I will run this way.
Be quick, before he comes nearer!”
There was no time for thought It
seemed a fair proposition, and even as
he spoke the Hindoo started at the top
of his speed away. It was useless stand
ing still or following him, and acting
upon his suggestion I started in the op
posite direction.
After running a rod or two I looked
over my shoulder The tiger had made
a leap and was just landing, already
crouched for another spring. He was
following me!
I will not admit that I hoped he
would follow Sajad, but I did hope that
he would not choose me. It amounted
to the same thing.
I started on for one more desperate
struggle. I was doomed. I knew it per
fectly well, yet while there is life there
is hope, and I ran as I never ran be
fore. I resolved to go as far as I could
and then whirl about and give the tiger
a charge of fine shot full in the face. It
might put out his eyes. There was at
least that possibility to hang a desperate
hope upon, and throwing my gun to my
shoulder I turned. The tiger was not
there! Looking farther back, I saw his
tawny hide in the underbrush. Instant
ly it rose. He was making a leap, but
it was not toward me. One thrill of
gratitude shot through my veins, when
my heart stood still with horror. There
was one sharp yelp be the huge form
swept through the air, and crushing the
leaves and branches as it fell landed up
on the prostrate figure of Sajad, silently
waiting for the blow.
I stood there petrified, the cold per
spiration dripping from my forehead.
There was not a sound from Sajad.
There was only one fierce howl from the
tiger; then all was stilL
It was only an instant, but in that in
stant we two, my Hindoo servant and
I, stood out before me in very bold re
lief. I had run for my life, knowing
that the chances lay between us two and
hoping at least that the tiger might not
follow ma He had run, too, knowing
that the chance lay between us, and be
cause the tiger did not follow him he
had come back again and tempted him
—called him away from me and given
his life for mina
He was a poor benighted heathen
and only an average sample of his kind.
He could not help stealing pretty
things. He could not stop telling lies.
But surely he was a truer, braver, no
bler man than I. and if the image of
God can be found today in any of his
creatures it would require no very deep
theologian to decide which of ns two
betrayed it least profaned.—Henry Wil
lard French in Romance.
The Straightest Line.
The straightest thing in nature or art
is a ray of light when passing through
a medium of uniform density. Hence
the eye is enabled to test the straight
ness of an edge or tube by holding it as
nearly as possible coincident with a ray
of light, such part as departs from
straightness then intercepting the ray
and causing a shade to be cast upon oth
er parts. It is not known at what early
period in the history of mankind the
discovery was made that straightness
could be thus determined. It is certain
that thousands of mechanics use the
method daily without being able, to give
a rational explanation of it. This primi
tive mode of testing straightness, on ac
count of its great convenience and ac
curacy, is likely to continue in use to
the end of the world. — Engineering
Mechanics.
A Capital Dod|«.
“Why, man, your novel has run into J
the third edition already. How is that?’ ’
“It is quite simple. I advertised in
the papers for a wife who resembles the
heroine of my novel. ” — Rheinisch
Westfalisches Tageblatt.
AN IMPORTANT QUESTION.
Hoir ShonU a Chicago Gent A*k a Lodjr at
a Ball to I>ance?
Among tho many seekers for truth
who daily tap The Times reservoir of
information comes one who modestly
shields his identity behind the initials
“L. L. L” He inquires:
“Which is the proper way for a gent
at a ball to ask a lady to dance?”
The question submitted by ”L. L. I. ’’
is received with the utmost satisfaction.
Standing alone, it is a refutation of
those cruel slanders and gibes in the
writing of which eastern persons earn
their fugitive existence. It has been
charged against Chicago that her citi
zens are too ardent in the pursuit of the
clanging iron dollar to give attention to
the amenities of life. It is further libel
ously alleged that the soft, sensuous
music of the ront and the ball falls flat
and dull upon the Chicago tympanum
attuned to the song of the dying swine.
In brief, it is asserted by eastern critics
that there is no fine, silky aspect to the
nature of the Chicagoese—no gumdrop
side to the character. Does not the art
less query of the retiring “L. L. I.”
afford sufficient proof to the contrary?
Does it not also show that the efforts
of The Times toward leading its sub
scribers to a higher intellectual and so
cial life have not been in vain?
But to the question. It all depends L.
L. 1 Out in Bridgeport, for instance,
the gent being unused perhaps to every
day association with the ladies, ap
proaches the subject with trembling, but
in a logical way withaL He first builds
his nerve.
“Gimme seme barbed wire, ” he says
to the man in front of the back bar.
“What d’yer wash wid?”
“Seltzer, fer a chaser,” and the pre
liminaries are thus arranged. Then the
gent goes to the other end of the hall
with a proud, haughty front, lays his
hat on a chair and his cigar with it and
says:
“You’re icy pick, ” to which the lady
responds, “Well, catch on den,” or
maybe invites him to go take a walk.
Over Humboldt park way the process
is much the same, although the lan
guage is different. At Ulilich's hall,
over by the bridge, there is slight differ
ence, except that the gent who is wise
in his generation wears his hat and
keeps the cigar in his mouth. On West
Madison street: “Has ycr got a bloke
for de nex’ reel? No? Come wid me, sis.
Come wid me. ”
Farther to the southwest, in the Blue
Island avenue district, “Les’ Crash out
a few more of de tioorin boards” seems
to be the proper form. Due reverence
must be paid local prejudice, and it is
impossible in a case of such importance
as this to formulate a rule. Bear in
mind in this connection that if the lady
declines the request no true gent will
strike her. All society sets its fact
against this.—Chicago Times.
Storms on the San.
The velocity with which solar storms
move is very great, and they sometimes
extend over a space several times as
large the whole of the earth’s sur
face. In common parlance they are
called “sun spots,” but as they are
known to have a rotary motion exactly
similar to terrestrial cyclones they may
be regarded as true solar storms. It has
been computed by eminent astronomers
that these sun storms move with the
astonishing velocity of 120 miles per
second, and we can best form an ade
quate conception of what the force of
such a storm must be by comparing it
to an earth storm moving at 100 miles
an hour, which is indeed a terrible hur
ricane. Carlington and Hodgson, the
English astronomers, describe a sun
storm which traveled 35,000 miles in
five minutes, and in 1871 Professor
Young of Cincinnati witnessed one that
traveled 1G6 miles per second for 45
minutes and constantly threw sheets of
flame and fiery matter to a height of
not less than 200,000 miles above the
sun’s disturbed surface ■—St. Louis Re
public.
Double Flowers.
Nearly all the double flowers of gar
dens were first found wild. Double but
tercups, double primroses, double dai
sies, double roses and many other things
were first discovered among their wild
fellows and introduced into the gardens
The florist, however, can produce dou
ble flowers. He watches this tendency
in nature. If a flower usually has five
petals, and he discovers that some of
the stamens have somewhat of a petal
like character, the pollen is taken from
these flowers and others in a normal
condition fertilized with this pollen.
The tendency, once started, is then giv
en to the progeny. Almost any species
of plant will in this way he capable
of producing double flowers. It is sur
prising that, with this knowledge, more
attempts at this line of improvement in
ordinary garden flowers are not mad*
—Meehan's Monthly.
Made Him Tired.
A Texas congressman is thinking of
resigning because he is kept so busy by
his friends in Texas urging upon the
administration the necessity of appoint
ing them to foreign missions. He re
minds one of the 4-year-old child saying
her prayers at her mother’s knee. Hav
ing concluded, as usual, with, “God
bless papa and mamma, grandpa and
grandmamma uncles and aunts, ’ ’ etc.,
she gave a great sigh and said:
“Oh, mamma, dear, I do wish those
people would pray for themselves, for
I’m tired of praying for them. ’’—Texas
Siftings.
Why I« It?
Here is a question in naval science
which is to the average sailor man a rid
dle unsolved. Take a vessel of, say, 2,500
tons; place on it a cargo of 3,500 tons.
This gives you a total of 6,000 tons.
Hitch a little tug to this vessel, and she
will yank the big craft along at the rate
of six or eight knots an hour. Now put
the tug's machinery in the big vessel.
It won't move her half a knot an hour.
Why is this?—New York Mail and Ex
press.
HOW GREEK LADIES DRESSED.
It Ih Sorprliius to Learn That They Luocd
a.hI Wore Flounced Skirl*.
Worn' a in Homer embroider gar
ments, ami many of these are brought
from Sidon. They wear veils, but on
the whole their tires. , long smock and
girdle, was apparently much like that
of later Greece. This is odd, for on a
gold ring front Myoenay very old, we
aee women with exuberant basts, tight
waists and petticoats heavily beflouuocd.
The same costume appears on a Myce
naean ring picked up by Furtwaugler
in a curiosity shop. Two ladies are ca
rousing out of champagne glasses. They
are very tightly laced. A lady on a My
cenaean gem from Vapheio is laced to ex
tinction and has seven flounces. The
British museum owns a lentoid gem.
where Leto wears only a crinoline, with
no petticoat over it. Dipylon vases dis
play both men and women with tiny
waists. Men, in Myeentean art, wear
little but very short drawers and shields.
In Homer the chiefs, summoned on a
night alarm, come out, in dressing
gowns, some of them in skins.
The historical dress for ladies was a
large piece of cloth a foot longer than
the wearer was tall and as wide as her
arms could stretch. When put on by a
fair Briton, it usually falls off again. A
belt partly kept it up, and safety pins
were used in wry early times. By tak
ing a bath towel—a good, big one—and
trying what she can make of it as her
full costume, a modern nymph may
partly understand the toilet of her an
cient sisters. When once she has got it
on. she ' ads with extended arms, and
an. ' •• ! y fastens a girdle round her
wait: r . . pulls up the superfluous
• length ’ : u:. h the girdle said lets it
hang over, and there she is. but how'
lea 'sk- v . : main il - is an extreme
ly : • .. .. straps, like braces,
were . >:•.- w ru and crossed over
the breast, being fast n« d to the girdle
Lames had no bonnets—they muffled
their heads in a fold of their cloaks or
wore flat hats. They were all very beau
tiful and charming, as we see in the
Tanagra terra eotta. It must have been
delightful to live in Tanagra. It ap
pears, on the whole, that we cannot hope
to revive Greek dress. The dress was de
signed for a warm climate and for a
beautiful, shapely grace. It had its ad
vantages in the matter of health, as
there was no tight lacing after the My
cenman age. The style was not extrava
gant or costly, but it is impossible. JEs
theticism cannot bring it back. An aes
thete in a chiton and sandals on a cold
and rainy day would be an unlovely ob
ject. He would be wrapped in a blanket,
thrust into a four wheeler and sent to a
hospital. Net for all the glory that was
Greece’s would rational men barter a
pair of stockings and a pair of trousers.
—New York World.
The ruefulness of Titles.
Impecunious aristocrats know the
value of a good name and are not averse
to making a practical use of it. Hot
long ago the following advertisement
appeared in a French paper:
“The owner of a historical name,
and belonging to a royal family, wishes,
in consequence of pecuniary losses, to
place his name at the disposal of a joint
stock company or some other great com
mercial or financial enterprise in return
for adequate remuneration. ”
Another impecunious aristocrat thus
makes his plea: “A nobleman, married
to a lady who is a member of a royal
family, desires to meet with an appoint
ment for himself and wife in one and
the same house. He would prefer the
post of manager of some estate or of a
manufacturing concern, though the cou
ple would not object to the situation of
tutor and governess in a German fam
ily. ”
Still another is this: “A young, hand
some German prince, of very ancient
family, and related to several reigning
houses and possessing no debts, desires
to marry a lady of very good personal
appearance, American most preferred,
but who must have a dot worthy of the
princely rank of the advertiser. Anony
mous letters will not be answered.”—
London Tit-Bits.
Paying For Their Keep.
The proprietor of a chemical works
received from his shoemaker a nair of
water tight boots, which lie was, How
ever, unable to wear, as they were a
trifle too small. He therefore gave them
to one of his workmen to wear for a
few days and stretch them to the re
quired dimensions. Several weeks passed
over, and the employer had forgotten all
about the boots when he w as suddenly
reminded of them in a curious fashion:
On a certain pay day the workman in
question, after drawing his wages, lin
gered at the desk as if waiting for some
thing. The j ianufacturer then'said:
“Well, Kruger, what is it?”
‘ ‘I want more money, ’ ’ was the reply.
“Wha—what? Haven't yon got your
fall wages?”
“Oh, aye':” answered Kruger, after
ward adding, with the greatest com
posure: “But you've still got to pay me
3s. tid. for getting your hoots soled.
They've been out of repair, you know!”
—Humoristische Blatter.
A Piou§ Wish.
The emperer once stood before the
magnificent tomb of the Dnke Rudolph
of Swabia. Some of his courtiers were
of the opinion that he ought not to al
low his mortal enemy to have so splen
did a monument, but that he should
have his body exhumed and buried else
where.
“Oh, let him lie where he is,” said
the emperor. “I only wish all my en
emies were as splendidly buried. ’ ’—Alle
Zeiten und Landen.
A Fortunate Selection.
Mother—What are all these senseless
trinkets for?
Pretty Daughter—They are for the
grabbag at the church fair.
“Mercy! There is not one thing that
any human being could want. ”
“Yes; isn't it fortunate? Everybody
who draws a prize will put it back in
the hag. ”—Sew York Weekly.