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WANTED--6R1GHTER HUSBANDS! Are Sweethearts Belt er Off Than Wive»? W« hear u grei'.f de«l about tli*- 4U11- liwlcs.) cf iiMttriiuuay •"Wsftire we were Qii»rrle<l." nighs a disKruiKled woman. "my liiiHliuiid D«ver c«Lin6 to nee uw wlUiout briuKiUK III'' fluw«r» or a box of phucoUlfK Hb dM-sm't now," ••il«fore w« were married!," uayn sn- o«b«r wife. "If ther« Imd been eurtti- quakcs and oyclom» and revolutions and hocl*-!/ scandals, with big bfad- litMMt lu the newxpaperg. my hiiabaiid would barely have glanced at th«m. Now ho Hiu up with a i)ap:?r Rliwd In hia hand eve-ry minute h<* Is lu the hoube, and when I try tu talk to him he Jual KninLH," • ' The Reason Why. "Before we wf-re married." laments Biiolher wife, "my hu.shaiid was always paying ine ponipllm<"nl8 and telllBg m« that I waa his Idoal of womanly per- fections. Now If I want a compliment from lulm I have to e.xtract It with inorc> eipcndlture of time and labor than It In worth." Thtsi- women, and others, demand to know why a man Is so changed by matrimony. The explanation la slm- !>!<». Matrimony In not courtship. It U the plain bread aiul nmat and aiash- «*d i)otatot« of life, not lt;e dessert When a man rollH up his ali-cves and goe« to work to support a woman he is changed from a hero of romance In- to the family provider, and his symbol Is no longer a fairy prince, but a cash V)ook, writes a woman correspondent. .\ woman who coiiiplaiiis that her hiL'-band in not always bringing her flowers and taking her to iilaces of anuifenient as he did in Iho days of courtship Ignores the fact that he did not at that period have to keep her In food and clothes. The woman who knows that her hus- band Is bringlTiK home every penny he eerns and straining every nerve to ke+'p his family <'omfortable Is un- grateful to cotn^)are the boiled tuniTpa of matrimony with the chocolalo creani!! of cuurtahlp. A w*fe whu con- I sIdeiH the dally paper a barometer of her husband's waning affection, and who fancies herself UHglecleJ because h«M- John reads the paper iu her pre»- ' eoce after marriage when he never did so before. 1.^ equally unreasonable. She i forge tV that .lohn baa no other place in wblcli to read. â-  When he saw her only two or three tlmt'.s a week, or perhepa for a little wlillo every day. he had leisure In which to road. He reads ut home now iHfCttuse that Is where he llvee and , where he has the rlg'it to ex.peet to do ' as he pleases. As for tb« woman who feels herself a poor, unappreciated creature becau.se her husband no longer deluges her with Cattery after marriage, let her ' con.sole herself with the thought that I her husband is luil unmmdful of her I charms. He has only come to accept ' tbem us u matter of course, as we do ! any other blessing. ! Men are equally unreasonable. The ; man who cotnplalns that his wife baa I lost her beauty and tbet she no longer I looks like the pretty girl he married I forgets that she burned out her eom- plexlon standing over the cooking . stove for hlin; that walking the bablea 'so that he might liave unbroken sleeo I put wrinkles around her eyes, and that the reason why her hands are not soft I and white is because she has made corns on them tolling for him. ! Because husbands and wives are dif- ferent l)eforo and after marriage Is no sign that they are failure.^ as husbands and wives. The really and truly mated couple can take a lot of thlfigs for granted and do without mnny outward |observanc'e«. Such a man doesn't have to buy his wife flowers to prove that he remembers her. Nor does such a wife fear to lose her husband's love by letting him see her when she Isn't wearing her smartest clothes. Royal Christening Robe is All Ready. Following the birth of a daughter to the Duke and l)u<'hess of York, the royal christening robo has been re- moved from Its resting place In Utjck- Ingliani Palace to be in readiness for the- christening ceremony. it was iti this beautiful old ivory- colored robe of prlce>ess lace that Uueen Victoria was christenoii and It has been worn by many uotwl babies since, including King Edward, the Em- press Frederick, ICIng Ueorge and the I'riuce of Wales. Whenever possible, babies in the <<lrecl line of descent to the throne aie christened by the Archbishop of (Can- terbury, usually at Windsor Castle, in St. George's chapel, from a massive gold font, which is brriught for the oc- casion from the Jewel house in the Tower of Ijondou. The christening of Princess Mary's sons from the Ktoiie font lu the (pmint i:ld parish churcli of Oold9l)or()Ugli, Yorkshire, where Viscount Lascelies himself was chris- tened, marks a departure from prece- dent In the baptism of royal babies. Queen Victoria also was an excep- tion to the rule. She was baptized very quietly at Ken-ington Palace, but the christening of her first born sun, the future King Edward the Peace- maker, was made the occasion of an Imposing (Msplay of splendor. The infant Prince of Wales was "conducted" in and out of the chapel at Windsor by the l>ord Cbamberialn and the groom of the stall in accord- aiire with preceilence, and luncheon in the while breakfa.st room, in honor of the notable event, was followed by a grand banquet In Bt. (ieorge'.n Hall In the evening. Twenlythree years later, Queen Vic- toria, dispensing with formality. In- sisted on holding another royal babe before the golden font at Windsor Castle"George Frederick Ernest Al- bert," our r-esent king, who had an unusually la.,,e array of royal and dis- tinguished sponsors. It was just two years later that (Jueen Mary received her amazing list of natnes - Victoria Mary Augusta Louisa Olga Pauline Clementine Ag- nes this time at Kensington Palace. It is an open secret that the popular little Duchess of York, whose romance â€" one of the real old-fashioned kind - began with the ringing of royal wed- ding bells just two springs ago. Is a great favorite with her majesty. SCHOOLS wrr hout books DUTCH PRINCESS STUDIES LAW - Prln^'ess Juliana of Ho'.land, who recently celebrated hev 17th birthday. Under the direction of mother, Queen Wllhelmlna, she is studying law since, according to rei>ort8, s-he Is not sure that she will reign as quesn. - THE POORLY PAID SCH001.TEACHER It Is no longer sufficient, In tie world of to-day, to bare acquired the "three R'a"â€" reading, writing and 'rithmetlc. The 8lmp!« old dame's school of a hun- dred years ^go B«em8 never to have been possible. Anolher great difference Is In the school equipment. In the old days i>en. Ink and paper were scarce, black- boards and chalk were unheard of, and even S'lates and slatepenclla were lux- urlea. How, then, were the children taught their l«tt«rs or Inlttatod Into the mysteries of even the simplest sums? At the earliest period they learnt from a "Horn Book." What w«8 this now-forgotten thing? is there to-day anyone fop-iiliar with the appearance of a hornbook? None. Collectors prize them, for they are extremely rare though once they were very common. A liorn-book consisted of a flat piece of wood of about one-eighth of an Inch thi-ckness, and of some three and a half Inches to six Inches In length, and ibout two-thirds of these measure- ments In breadth. It was provided with a handle, by which the child held It. On this flat piece of wood, com- monly oak, was placed a printed ple<» of paper, generally bearing th« alpha- bet and the Lord's Prayer, and some- times the numerals e« well. The paper was kept In position and guarded from Injury by being placed under a thin, transp^iirent sheet of bom secured by a brass edging; Hence "horn-book." In the older kind the type usad was of the Gothic, "black- letter" Old English sort. The earliest known hornbook dates back to about 1450. With the growing U8« of paper and print, chap-books and small primers, I the vogue of the horn-book declined; 1 and It went entirely out of use at the tft>enlng of the nineteenth century. The last order for a stock ot these articles was given by a firm of stationers in 1799; and as the then oM-fas'hioned things proved unsalable the unwanted stock was destroyed some years later. And It's Necessary, Too. 1st .Motorist -"Why are you always smashing billboards alnng ^he road, Jone«?" Jones (sarcastically! "To get a vIhw of the country, of course!" .\ peculiar thing about short dres.sea is that women s(H!m satisfied with the least they can Kel for their money. THE QUEER WAYS THAT BHIDS EAT Under present conditions the wages ot the average rural teacher are Inade- quate for her support. She must be suitably dressed. She nius-t subscribe to literature relating to her work and she must attend conventions. All of this costs money. These iireseni ex- penses preclude the poasibllity of pro- viding against tlie day when the school board decides that she has become too old to bo retained. In the meantime, she has been so loyal to her calling that she has deilintHi attractive busi- ness offers, so that when she is con- sidered no longer qualified to teach she has no preparation for the years that renuiiu to her. When one sees the hundreds of bap- j pyfaceil graduates of a normal school I on com men cement day anil realizes I that they must scon face the problem I of how to live upon a salary iiiucli too , small for their needs one feels more I like condoling Willi rather than con- ; Kraluiating Iheni. .\or sh<ui!d it be ' consUieroJ surprising that days come j when the overw<irked teacher Is In- ! clined to regret that she did not spend I six months at a bu.siiiess college in- ! stead of tw<) years in a normal school. Over against this picture is the con- tention that the'avcrage teacher re- gards her profession as a prelude to marrliKP and follows It only long enough to jirovlde herself with her wedding llnery. This may be true in part but It is far from being a common experience. After a few years spent iu niHuagiiig and tutoring a roomful of restless children, the weary teacher will have ac»|uired a Mufficleiit number of furrows In the forehead to make her hesitate. There is still anolher side to the question. Uecently we met a poorly paid and none loo robust country school-teacher on whose roster were 70 pupils. She looketi tired and coufess- Horn-books ara now ao rare that high pricea are glT«o by coUectC« for' genuloe «)«clmen«. Whea, fa 1877, the Caxton Exhibition of priBtlnc aa- tiqulties was held, only four apeciiUAiui j of horn-books were shown, and at an- ' other exhibition, held in 1882 onir ' eight. I There are no dunces to-day put Into ! comers of the school rooms, with tall paper caps, Hke sugar loav«», on their heads. But the dunce was. a hundred years ago, % feature of every school. Always there was the dullard, the ; stupid one, who could not receive In- struction. But why "dunce?" How did the '. word originate? It was originally the name of a man, one John Scot, or j "Scotus," known In his day as "Duna I Scotus," because he came from the llt- I tie town of Duns, In the south of Scot- ' laud. He flourished about 1265-1308, i and was' by no means a stupid fellow. Urhlefly he was a theological disputant jot tBTs old school and entirely oppoaed tx) the then Vk%\L ways ot thought, 'i which were the beglnniugs ot the new I learning. His followers were known aa "tha Duns men," and aa the new ways gained ground "and the old lost favor Dnns Scotus and those of his way ot thinking were treated with contempt and were regard«d as Ignoramusee. That is the pedigree of the word "dunce." The dunces o£ the schoota a century ago would have siwllod much paper and spil'ed much ink, but for the fact that children then were taught to trace the letters of the alphabet on the sand-table. Sand-tables are now also very rare. They were simple contrivances, con- sisting of a long, plain board, with a raised edge. This was supported, table-high, by trestles. The board was covered with fine sand, on which, with their Angers, the children formed the letters. The sand was then prepared for the next lesson with a "smoother." ed to being so; but without boasting ' she artles&ly told how 8.he had recent- ly refused a much easier position be- I cause In her overcrowded school were I a great many children she so loved that site could not give them up. Affection like this is not rare and is reciprocal. We happen to know a man ' of 70 who remembers with deep affec- tion his flrst teacher who 65 years ago Introduced him to the mystery of let- ters. These instances are the bright aide of the picture whicli .-nakes the i wanted I teaclier's life worth whiUs." Smith , Modern school boards are becoming j to-night." more liberal, but the rural teaching Mrs. Snvlth ! profession still continues to be on© ot the (Kiorest paid. I Him to Come Honf>e Early. "I'm going to paint the town It Is interesting to watch the dlffer- •nt ways In which birds f6»Hl. The thrush, who Is very fond of snails, takes them to a regular dining table, a flaltlsli stone littered with the shells of many a past feast Here he fctrenuously bamniers tliVm until they are broken, and then proceeds with his meal. The kingllj-her- einerging from the stream with n siniggling minnow held crossways In his beak as a dog holds a bone, performs a really m:irvellous feat when he eclges It round, head im. into the position in which he Is able to swallow II. The shrike storks a larder, usually In a dense blackthorn thicket. Catchin?; frogs and mice, bees, flies and grass- hoppers, ho spikes them onto tliorn.s to await bis gourmand's pli^asure Eggs. baby npullngs and even adult spiir- rows and small tinches are seized for this larder, the making of which has well earned hini the name of the but- cher bird. llie snipe probes deep Into the mud toi- small, wriggling creatures with Its long beak, the skin of which gives It a sc<nce ot touch as reliable as that of our flBgera. Worm.* are the ilally bread ot the robin end the blackbird, and they do not srtint themselves. A conscientious observer found that a rohin eat.s about tonrt««n feet of worm every day! Swallows, on the other hand, have no use for worms, and will promptly starve to death If offered no other food They do not usually pay heed to any particular lo«ect. merely by skim- ming to and fro over pond.s and atit-ams with uhMr incuthtf open they Back Home. They err «lio think that lodestsars must he all Of the flrst magnitude and general fame; Or that to be a talisman, a name .Must be of those men publicly extol. Dazzle may temporarily enthrall .^nd moths be singed within the garish flame; Strlvers forget the way by which they came In answer to ambition's siren call. But many an exile loves some little Thnims What time his restless feet are led to roam. And with the strife of emulation past. Back to the flrst-loved hearts and scenes. he comes â€" White ways forsaken for the lights of home, -And Ix>ndon left for Stratford at the last. â€" Alice Lawry (rould. "Well, more than one coat," don't give it Sentence Sermons. The .Money a Man Saves - By not helping those in distress never makes him really happy. â€" .\t the expense of his help never builds a prosperous business. â€" At the cost of honor nsver erects a truthful monument. â€" By staying out of school Is always a poor investment. -By starving his soul is never en- joyed. â€" Is a better index of character than the money he earns. â€" Sometimes costs teo much. Harbinger. We halt decide the bluebird Is but a lovely myth, And April only a legend To sweeten fancy with. And then, some magic morulng This miracle ot blue Descends upon our gate-post .\ud fairyland come« true. Odell S-hepherd. ADAMSON'S ADVENTURES I accumulate a steady supply of gnats. A remarkable fellow is the cuckoo. i No young. Juicy caterpillars for him, if ; j he can help it. A "lough, hard-boiled [ guy." as they say in the Wild West, he ' j much prefers his caterpillars large , and hairy- the hairier the better. : Down In the long lush grass of the! ! ditch he bunts and feasts on drinkers, oak eggars atid "wcolly hears." ' One might no! unreasonably expect I the wiKidpecUer to dine up In the tree- tops, where he seems to belong, but if' there is one food that no healthy wood- pecker i-an resist ll is anis' eggs. ', ; Rnergelitally, with beak and feet, he scr.ilche.s his way into an antheap like a terrier into a rabbit hole The hawk ; drops onto his dinner, poised one mo- â-  ment. noiseless and almost motionless, above the turf of the common falling i as ihougli shot the next. Try dropping a stone over a cliff exactly onto a siHit fta below, no bigger (ban your head. It , you would rea'ize how skillful l.< his :feaf. '• j j The nuthivii i;ii> ii,it.~ whenever tliere are any nuts to he ha.l. Larking the squirrels' sharp little toelh, he i inlght well be expected to find Insolu- I hie the problem of how to open a nut. Ho carries it. however, to a rugged oak tree no other kind will do -fixes is securely Into a crevice, and then, c'.lnging to the rough hark. Pracks it j with two or three deft hammer blows I ;ioti. bis bill. :• The skua gnl lis the champion hooli- gan of the bird world His mo<l6 of dining wtthoul the trouble of diving Is to ihase smnller giil'.s. forcing them to litiigorKB thtf llsh they have Ju»t I ChUgllt. On Memory's Film. The sparrows . ' . . come day by day for their meed of crumbs spread for them outside my window. . Very early in the morning I hear the whirr and rustle ot eager wings, and the tap, tap, of little beaks upon the stone. The sound carries me back, tor it was the first to greet me when I rose to draw water and gather kind- ling In my roadmender days; and it 1 slip back another decade the.v survey me, reproving my laziness, from the foot of the narrow bed in my little at- tic overseas. Looking along the roadway that we have traveled we see the landmarks, great and small, which have deter- mined the direction of our feet. For some, those of childhood stand out I above all the rest; but I remember j few notable ones and these few the em- I phatic chord of the universe rather j than any commence with my fellows. j There was the night of my groat disap- ! pointmeut when I was borne from my comfortable Ued to see the wonders of the moon's eclipse. . Tlieu there was a night at Whitby, when the wind made speech impossib;e. and the seas rushed up and over the great light-house. I like better to remember the scent of the flrst cowslip field un- der the warm side of the hedge, when ^ sang to iny8«lf for pure joy of their color and fragrance. -Again, there were the bluebells in the deserted Quarry like the backwash of a south- ern eea, and below them the miniature forest of she'teriug bracken witjii its quaint conceits; and crowned above all. the day 1 stood on Watcombe Down, and looked acros^s a stretch of golden gorse and new turned field, the green of the headland, and beyond, th« sapphire sea. . The forests, too, are ready with a story hid In the fastness of their soli- tude. ... It seems but last night that I wjindure<l down the road which led to the little unheeded vi'.lage whffio I had made my temporary home. The warm-scented breal^h ot the pines and the stillness of the night wrapped me In great content; the summer light- ning leapt in a lamb-Rnt arch across the east, and the stars, seen flfmly through the somber tree crests, were outrivalled by the glow-worms which sboiift in countless points ot light from bank and hedge. Michael Kair- less. In. "The Roadmender. " ln."lU( (C<i»yrt|1rt. I t»4. Vf T>K BtJt tj^^rja^ fc t | First Arbutus. Pink, small, and punctual. Aromatic, low. Covert in .\prll. Candid in May. Dear to the moss. Known by the kuoll. Next to the robin In every luiman soul. Bold little be<uty. Bedecked with th*e. Nature forswears .Antiquity. Kmily Dickinson. Hadn't Brought Bill. A young wcman entered a milliner's shop with a .voung man and paid ft, s.inall deposit on a hat, which she pro-, niised to call for in a few days. How- ever, it was several weeks later when she returned. Th* assistant, having forgotten the transaction, asked If sh«^ had brought h«r bill. "Oh. no," she replied. "Jwi 9««v we're married now. and we can'^afforA t-r.in 'are* tor two."