tjt • I VU SLYKE, Editor and Pvblltlwr^ McHBNRY, - - > - ILLINOIS ;:;r I:-': THE POET'S LAMENT. Boom d*y, somo day, I know not when. It May be Toarr and year*, but then Some <in.y my honrt shall leap for jay And words »f tlmr: k* my tongue emitaOft ~tv 1'or have 1 not assurance blest, And eke a signature's attest. That in the course of time to mo dull come reward for industry ? Ah, yes, T need "out patiently To bide mv time; and certainly •The day will come--I«ord liaste it on-- When mv sad eyes shall rest upon The toiled for, hoped for, prayed for tnill( Which to my heart content will brag; ; And then, oh, jov : my housekeeper Will get what I am owing her. The davs and weeks and months hft?e pasted ' And countless delits--for grab--I've massed f Expecting »itli each comiag U!.ai- m The Bight of a small cheque to hail; ^ But oh, my loujjinn eves sreet not The wiierewifhal to boil the pot, Yet i mav hope--I've Hoped lonfi while-- That fortune yet will on me smile. I little reck ed when 'mersed in foil. Consuming ot my mv midnight oiL Narrating yarns, describing scenes For story books and manazinea That I f .revfr-aiitl-a- la v- Would have to \rcut on them for pay; But, truth to tell. X rind it so. The most of them are awful slow. Ill give them yet another ehacoe. Maynap it will my «how enhinca, For getting what they've "booked" tne for--? A cunning little metaphor-- But if they make me longer wait 111 strike an exj>editioui- gait And hunt a job. tor much 1 feel The need of a four-coruered meal! .'If 1H1VM TO MARRIAGE. Everybody declared tliat Hugh Colewood ought to be the happiest man in Greenville., He was young, handsome, and well educated; then, just as he was pre paring to tight his way to fame with ipoverty arrayed against him. he had suddenly teen made the sole heir to the line old estate of his eccentric aunt, Miss Betsy Colewood, Recently deceased, says a writer in the Boston •Globe. * What more was necessary to the fiappiness of a gay young fellow like Hugh Colewood? Nothing, it.seemed to the envious bachelors. However, there were conditions, or one at least, in his aunt's will which caused him no little uneasiness. He must love and marry the girl of her •choice, whom he had never even-j •seen. Hugh Colewrod caught, up his Aunt's last letter to him and read it igain and again, hoping to .find some little loophole of escape from the galling condition. But it was there in merciless black tnd white. This is the part that worried him: "If you cannot comply with my wishes for you to meet Ethel Wayne ind love and marry her you forfeit Four heirsbfp to my estate. Ethel's another was my dearest friend, and if rou marry her daughter it will be fulfilling my fondest desires. You sannot help loving her. "I could not rest in my tomb peace- lully and know that Ethel was not Mistress of my estates, and you, dear •joy, the master. My lawyeix Mr. >anston, will arrange for you to neet Ethel, as he is one of her guardians. You know how thof- ^ughly I despise old bachelors, there-1 fore I give you warning that I will not j allow you to inhabit- mv houses and -ands as one of that disagreeable, -rusty order." So had written the eccentric spin ier. Hugh nibbled the ends of his mustache impatiently as he pondered »n the conditions which the will im posed. Hugh loved the Colewood estates, tnd could not bear to think of giving Ihem up. Sow, if the will had not -specified whom he must, marry, but left the selection of a wi/e entirely to himself, Hugh believed that he would have enjoyed the romance of hunting for a bride. He picked up his hat and rushed from his room, going up to the hotel where Mr. Cranston was stopping while he arranged some business mat- opposed to fulfilling the condition. "At least you must meet. I will arrange that. Ethel will pass the summer with my sister in the coun try, and I'll manage it for you to spend a few weeks with them. You can very soon tell whether the condi tion is wholly obnoxious or not. What do you say?" "1 will do as youadvise, tbank you, sir" replied Hugh, who had now cooled off and was trying to take a business view of the strange situation. Four weeks later Hugh Colewood was speeding away from Greenville on the morning express, bound for a little town among the blue hills of Virginia. When lie stepped fropi the train 'he .was disappointed to find no one waiting to convey him to the coun try home of Mr. Cranston's sister, a distance of eight miles. He was in tne act of asking the way to the best hotel when a buggy came rapidly tip to the station and halted. The stilt ion agent hurried forward to meet the driver, who was a slen der vounggirl, with bright, dark eyes, and hair as golden as the June Sun beams touching those hills. "Is Mr. Colewood of Greenville, waiting here to ride out to Mrs. Thurston's?" inquired the fair driver in a sweet voice which won Hugh's interest at once. "I am here and waiting, thank you." returned Hugh for himself,' smiling pleasantly as ,he came for- ward oni the station platform. "I carne to drive you to Mrs. Thurston's" she answered simply. "Shall 1 take the reins?" he asked as they started away. "No, thank you; 1 like to drive," she answered. "It was too baa for you to take so long a drive for a stranger," he re marked, as he stole a side glance of admiration at the girlish form in dainty blue. "Oh, I didn't mind the distance at all: besides, I rather had to come," she replied. "I did wish to go with the young folks, who a«*e having a picnic this morning over on Laurel flill, but Uncle Jerry was^ickand of course he couldn't come for you." "Then Mrs. Tbijrston and Miss Wayne never drive, so they made a virtue of a necessity and sent the last resort of the place," and she laughed merrily. "It is too bad my coming prevented you joining the picnickers." he said. "I^hall not be able to forgive my self." "That's nothing. I am enjoying myself now too well to think of Laurel Hill," she returned brightly. "Thank you, and at the same time let me assure you that I, too, am en joying myself fexcellentlv well," and Hugh bowed to the young girl, whose eves dropped beneath the warm light of admiration in his blue ones. "I hope you will enjoy your visit, Mr. Colewood," she* said, to change the subject. "I know Mrs. Thurs ton and Ethel will do all they can tcr make your stay pleasant." "Thank you; I've no doubt I shall find it pleasant," returned Hugh. "You, too, are one of Mrs. Thurs ton's summer household, I supposg?" "Yes," with a smile. "You see, I am a distant relative to Mrs. JThurfc- ton; then Miss Wayne is my cousin, and exercises a kind of cousinly guardianship over me, which no doubt is very necessary." "So you are Miss Wayne's cousin? I do not remember hearing Mr. Cranston mention you. I did not ex- 'pect to have the pleasure of meeting any ladies but Mrs. Thurston and Miss Wayne." "How unkind in Mr. Cranston not to prepare you for this meeting." and there was a roguish gleam in her eyes which Hugh did not see. "I had up to date regarded Mr. Cranston as one of my very best friends, but to ig nore me so utterly, when he knew I would accompany Cousin Ethel here, looks like downright, intentional neg lect. " "You have not given me the pleasure of knowing jour name," said •ters with Hugh. "Hello, Colewood! Have a seat," ! Hu£b, 130111 amused and pleased with laid -the lawyer, scrutinizing the ! his PreHv driver. flushed face and nervous manner of cy which had more than oiice perated Hugh. "I'd be sorry to have you leave us with any burden on your, mind," shfe said, provoking!}'. "It is needly for me to tell you why it was arranged for me to meet Miss Wayne here," he said, unheed ing her light words. "You know-. I suppose." "Some slight idea, *1 believe," she returned, fingering her book- "Well. I may as well tell you that that condition in my late aunt- will can never be fulfilled." . ' *' "And why not?" ' f , "Becabse I love anotlM;M hS passionately. "O, Estelle! can you not sec how tenderly, how ardently I love you? Without you I shall make a failure of life. Won't you show mercy, Estelle?" "Oh, Hugh! would you marry a poor girl when yoifhave a chance to win a dignified bride and retain those princely estates?" she asked. Yes, darling. I prefer you with love in a cottage to the wealthiest woman with all the estates in the world." "Rash statement, young man." "It is true. Do not torture mc longer, Estelle. Can you not love me a little?" s - "No." "Then you do not love me?" « "I'm afraid I do." "Do not mock me, Estelle." "I am not mocking you, Hugh," ill a very sweet voice. "Then you dp love me a little?" "No, not a little, but very much." He would have caught her to his breast, but she eluded his arms, crying: "Oh, there's Uncle Cfcinston!" and she rushed forward to greet the little lawyer, who had approachca them unseen. "It is useless for me to ignore facts," said Mr. Cranston, pleasantly. "I did not mean to overhear your conversation, but 1 arrived unex pectedly and thought 1 would hunt up my sprite here and surprise her. I see you understand each other pretty clearly." "Yes, sir," said Hugh, bravely, "I have decided to enjoy love in a cot tage with this dear girl rather than keep the estate with Miss Wayne. "Love in a cottage! Oh. that's too good!" And Mr. Cranston' broke into a hearty laugh, in which the girl finally joined him. . "Will you have the goodness to ex plain what amuses you so much in my statement?" asked Hugh,' not ,a little nettled. ^ "Pardon me, Colewood. But, really, you are the victim of your own blunder." "Blunder! I don't understand you, sir," returned Hugh. "Of course not," ana the lawyer laughed again. "This sprite, whom you took to be the unimportant little cousin, is in reality the Ethel Wayne referred to in your aunt's will. I did not tell you that there were two Ethels, so while she was driving, you over here you jumped to the con clusion that Miss Wayne at the house was the Ethel. "You see I have been told all about your amusing mistake. Ethel would not explain her real identity with the girl whom your aunt had selected for you and, as the other ladies believed you knew, you have remained the victim of your own mistake." Six months later the condition ot Miss Colewood's will was cheerfully obeyed. A Poor Debtor's' Berenge. Apropos of the discussion of the Im prisonment for debt law in Maine, the Augusta Age tells a queer story. Nearly four years ago an Aroostook storekeeper named Hib- bard had a man named Banks ar rested for debt. The debt had been incurred a few years before for sev eral bushels of onions which Banks bought to plant, The onions failed to "come up" and Banks refused «o pay. Hibbard sued Banks, putting in the claim, in answer to Bank's de fense of the neglect of the onions to grow, that they had been planted the 'thevisitor. He was just wondering ; swered, laughingly. "Ethel Estella •to himself if the unexpected good j Wayne, variously nicknamed, as you fortune had turned voung Colewood's j observe later on." .head when his visitor remarked: Two Ethel Waynes! Here was a -"You are aware of that one peculiar ' rcal surprise for Colewood. Why had Teature in my late aunt's • will, Mr. i Cranston not mentioned that strange Cranston?" I fact to him? Light at once dawned upon the1 If the Ethel Wayne referred to in mwyer and there was a twinkle in his thc wil1 wa8 only half 33 animated eyes. However, he asked indiffer- and generally captivating as the one jSDtly: by his side Hugh thought it might be •"To what peculiar feature" do you an eas^ matter after all to obey that TOfer, Mr. Colewood?" condition which had so vexed him. "The one that absurdly commands •me to marry a girl that I have never ,, ,.T .. . , wrong side up. "You couldn't ex- ••Oh, I m a Wayne, too, -she an-, them onions," eloquently re-fpr*»n lanorh i n<rl v 't«Kthol RatollQ , . . ., , . . I marked Hibbard's lawyer at the trial, I "to grow down and stick their roots j up into the air and let them whip in j the passing breeze like the frayed-out end of a clothes-line. Neither could ! you expect them to twist around like j an ox-bow and copae up. What the j defendant needed was good hoss sense j in planting onions and they would | have been all right." This eloquence : prevailed, and Banks was oraered to ••seen.11 11 i "Oh, that!" returned Mr. Crans ton. "You are a lucky fellow, Cole- i wood. That's the best part of the ! fortune." i "It's the most exasperating part " I (Hugh cried, desperately. "How can ; tt fellow love and wed to order?" j "Well, it's a deal of time and bother saved to the wooer," remarked the lawyer, putting. "I've no doubt Ethel Wayne will suit you better than anv selection you are capable of making." Hugh Colewood flushed warmly ^t Ihe lawyer's cool observation and he 3poke hotly. "l'm^ure sl^e won't suit me, sir. The estate can go to charity for all I care. 1 don't love any woman and, I love nrv freedom too well to marry jet awhile. I don't want to be thrust <upon any woman for the sake of a fortune, and I don't suppose Miss Wayne cares two straws about thc absurd condition in my aunt's will." , • "It is very likely, although Ethel i liad the Greatest respect for the late , Miss Colewood and was very careful ; to humor all her vagaries," returned ' •Cranston, much amused over young | Colewood's excitement. "However, i I hardly feel able to state whether ! tthe Kiil would accept Miss Colewood's last great vagary in the shape of her i mephow or not." « "I shall not give her the opportu nity." said Hugh, nettled at the law yer's words. "Hold on, Colewood. Let's drop nonsense and come to business. You like your aunt's estates, but you can- not retain them without complying frith her wishes. You have never lioet the girl .whom your aunt has chosen.Perhaps pay or go to jail. He could easily ^ , . , , , ,| have paid, but he preferred to go to Colewood received a^ cordial wel- j jaiL It wag ljetter lhan the ^ come at .Irs. Thurston s home. He hOUse, and a man would come to the found Miss Wayne to he a tall, dig- j»poqF1house sooner or later if he al- nifled girl of about -3, with coa!- j lowed himself to be imposed upon in black hair and deep gray eyes. She : the matter of oniotlg. Then> ^ farming was slack.in Aroostook just then, and a few years in jail would j really pay better than harvesting poor crops. Accordingly Banks went to jail and was as unlike her little merry-hearted cousin as it was possible to be. Yes. Hugh decided she was just such a woman as his eccentric aunt would be likely to select as the wife of her heir. In the weeks which followed Hugh's arrival he saw a great deal of Hibbard began to pay his board at the rate of $3 a week. At the end of three months Hibbard began to Mi>s W ayne, although much of her | weaken, and went around to thc jail v* NI it will b« time was divided between her taste for l\tprature and in remonstrating • against the innocent pranks of her j consin. It did not require a long i time for the young man to realize;! that he could never love Miss Wayne ! as the man should love the girl whom he intends to marry. - He made another important dis covery--that his life would be a fail ure without the little cousin to furn ish daily sunshine and wifely cheer for his own home. He resolved to let Miss Wayne have one-half of his aunt's estates and the orphan asylum the other. He would marry the girl of his own choice, pro- ' vided he could win .her, and boldly | tight his own way through life. Having so decided Hugh set out for a stroll along the river, feeling more manly for his resolve. I lie came suddenly upon a little i figure in white, reading, in a little j viney nook by the river's side, i "Wait, Estelle."he called, for she ! had started to run away. "I shall leave to-morrow, and I have some thing to say to you which you must hear." The telltale flush which swept over her face and neck at his words might have given some hint of an easy sur render. However, in a moment she RAZOf* INSTEAD OF STILETTO- i . ... Itfillan Ipiintyrauti! Degtnaln( to T»k(, Lmdoim From Their Darker Brother, Newly arrived Italians are begin ning to discard the stiletto for the razor, and in several recent Italian affrays the latter weapon was used in stead of the former. The Italian has learned a lesson of thc negro, and the reason for the adoption of the razor as a weapon is curiously similar in the case of both. In the days when a 8laveholding south was periodically in fear of servile insurrection, there was a strong effort made to disarm the slaves. It was pretty successful so far as firearms and ordinary weapons went, but the negro could not reason ably be deprived of so useful, neces sary, and apparently innocent aa instrument as the razor, so he adapted that to offensive uses by learning to turn the blade well back into the hands in reverse direction from Hhe position of the blade when i% is closed, to grasp the handle and tho back of the blade in the closed palm, and thus to present a long cutting edge to the enemy. A razor thus wielded does not readily inflict a verv deep wound, and this may account for the fact that while negro cutting affrays are attended with great loss of blood they seldom result fatally. The public prejudice against thc stiletto and the effort of the courts to inforce against bearers of that instrument the law forbidding the carrying of concealed deadly weapons have lea<} thc Italians to get edu cated in American ways, to adopt the razor as a weapon of offence, says the New York Sun, and doubtless to use it negro fashion, since it is a dan gerous instrument to its master if wielded In any other way. The habit of carrying the razor or sonie other cutting weapon in the boot is still not uncommon with negroes in the country, where long boots are yet worn. Sometimes a pocket is made Just inside the leg of the boot, and to "reach for a razor" means simply to stoop a little and draw forth the weapon. Another favorite weapon with the negro of the South is a knife with a «ort of spring that makes b&dc and handle temporarily one. Sometimes this is managed by means of a notch in the blade, to which is fitted a little metallic peg in the handle. Notch and peg are brought together by merely shaking the knife with a hard, sudden jerk, such as one gives to rid a pen of superfluous ink. The Southern negro carried his razor much less with thought of in surrection than as a weapon of offence and defence against private enemies of his own race or against the dreaded "stoodents."•- The enslaved negro had a natural horror of being seized by medical students and murdered in order that his body might adorn the dissecting table. This supersti tious fear was once strong upon the negroes of Maryland, and perhaps still has some hold among them. '^Stoodents git'eher" was an effective threat with negro mothers in manag ing pickaninnies, and what was a vague terror to children was a solemn fear to parents. The belief in such a danger may have Come to the negro^ through some distorted rumor of Burke's crimes iti Edinburgh. pleasures of youth, untroubled by any anxieties as to her marriage. x After she is 21, she will have plenty of time to choose; and she will probably be far better fitted to make her choice and to undertake the responsibilities of married life than she would have been earlier. The tendency toward more mature marriages is a move ill the right direction. Ho Wouldn't Tako Pay. Two men stood on a New York street corner chatting, one having his boots blacked the while, the other trying to keep a poor cigar burning. The latter, had but one leg. When the ragged little bootblack had got through with the one and collected a nickle, he tapped his box smartly with his brush aftd looked up at the one-legged man: "Shine 'em up, sir?" • "Why, I've only got one foot, young chap." ' "Shine it up, sir?" i'Well, I don't know--you charge a nickel for two feet, I s'pose you'll do mine for 2| cents, eh?" "Yes," said the boy, "if you'll fur nish the change." He went indus triously to work polishing up the loneiy foot, while the two men con tinued joking. The one-legged man was telling the other fellow about leaving his leg on the slope of Look out Mountain. He had pulled out a 10-cent piece mechanically, as he talked, and the boy was a long time on the job. When the lad had put an extra fine polish on the broad- bottomed shoe the one-legged cus tomer cheerily tendered the dime. "I always pay double," said he, laughing patronizingly, "on ac count of the wear and tear on the boy's feelings." "An'I alius don't take nothin'," retorted the dirty little fellow, shoulde'ring his box with the conven tional swing. "My grandpa left a leg in the war. an' I don't take nothin' for a one leg job, see?--on ac count o' de wear an' tear on me feel ings--see?" he added slyly. And he swaggered away with an air of independence that struck the two men speechless with amazement. --New York Herald. A Great Invention. A much-needed invention has lately been brought to notice in London and received the commendation of the press. It consists of a simple and in expensive device for automatically shutting off the gas when it has been blown out instead of being turned off in the usual way. The principle upon which this mechanism is based is the expansion and contractipn of a metallic loop made of German silver and steel, which is adjusted close to the gas flame. One end of the loop is free, while the other is secured to the fix ture; a valve containing the gas is at tached to the free end, and when the gas is burning the valve is open, and the gas freely escapes.' If, however, the gas is blown out, the property of the loop is quickly to cool and con tract, and the valve will shut off the gas. The device is said to respond promptly to the change in tempera ture. jpruved that you are neither of you'i had regained that customary piquan- and asked Banks when he intended to pay up and get out. Banks looked through the bars and said he was quite comfortable and felt good for ten or fifteen years yet. Then he added the inquiry as to whether Hibbard still thought those onions were planted wrong end up. Hibbard groaned. Hibbard has now paid something over $600 for board. But, there is now a slight gleam of hope, as the other day Banks said he thought if the crops were good this year, and the season appeared favor able next spring, a year from now, he might for $400 and a public retrac tion concerning the alleged wrong position of the onions consent to come out of jail and stop being a further expanse to the unfortunate store-fv keeper. Blind Spectacle*, There has been invented an ingen ious pair of spectacles by which a color-blind person could distinguish colors. If, for instance, he was blind to red, one glass of the spectacles was red and the other green, so that a red object appeared more vivid through the red glass, where'as a green object appeared greener through the greet glass. ., , ALL the training in the worlifcwiU not make a duck a swan- Hunting the Mooae, The only real moose-hunters are half- breeds or full-blooded Indians. With out the aid of these native sportsmen the white man has but little chance of capturing antlers for hall or dining- room.- When the snow is deep, and the white hunter is provided with snow-shoes and a reasonable amount of woodcraft, he may achieve some success. The moose is nocturnal and feeds at night upon the tops of the gray and golden willow. During the day lie sleeps, but always 'with one eye open--or, more literally, with one ponderous ear ready to catch and transmit the slightest sound to the brain in the great awkward head. The wise hunter, who understands the habits of thc game, does not run headlong on the trail when he strikes it in the sriow, because the moose has thought of that and doubled on his track, and may be at the moment the trail is struck. quietly watching the snow-sljoers from a thicket not more than twenty feet away. Hence the hunters with greater caution constantly make detours from the trail until the game is located. If the moose is only wounded when fired upon he is a dangeious foe, for he will ciance on his hind legs like a dancing-master, and strike with his sharp forefeetlike an expert fencer. He seldom uses his antlers unless wounded in one of his dancing legs, when he must needs use his head as an offensive weapon. A few mooss are still left in Maine, with now and then a straggler in northern New York, but they,like the buffalo, have had their day, and it will not bo long before a few skins in thc museums will furnish the only visible traces of this^grand forest king. Time to Choone. From an examination of the statis tics contained in official marriage rec ords, it appears that early marriages are now very much less common than in the days of our grandmothers. In the fiction of half or three-quarters of a century ago, the heroine was generally depicted as a blushing maid of sweet 10, or at most, of 18 years. The writer "of the present day has wisely followed the changing fashion, and has represented his heroine, in most instances, as a mature young , woman, with theoripsof her own and thc courage toexpress them--a marked and agreeable contrast to the charm ing simpleton of other days. The later novelist has ample warrant for his changed methods; according to the statistics, out of 460 married women, only 14i per cent, became brides be tween the ages of 15 and 20. More than one-half consented to make the man of their choice happy when they $ere between the ages of 20 and 25. Only 15J per cent, were married be tween the ages of 30 and 35. After a woman has reached 35, her matri-. monial chances decline with startling rapidity. Between that age and 40, only four out of every 100 women marry. After JO, the marriages are so few that they are not worth con sidering. Thc inference tol»e drawn is plain. It is evident that there is not the slightest reason why an American young woman should not pass? the period lietwecen her sixteenth year and the attainment of twenty- one in the enjoyment of the innocent A Mermaid. A strange story of the mermaid comes from Birsay, Orkney. The other day a farmer's wife was down at the seashore there and observed a strange marine animal sitting on the rocks. As it would not move she sent for her husband. When she re turned with her better half they both saw theanimal clambering among the rocks, about four feet of it being above water. The woman, who had a splcndied view ot it, describes it as a "good-looking person," while the man says it was "a woman covered with brown hair." At last the couple tried to get hold of it, when it took a header into the sea and dis appeared. The man is confident that he has seen the fabled mermaid, but people in the district are of opin ion that the animal must belong to the seal tribe. An animal of similar description was seen by several peo ple at Decrness two years age. . Tho Lion of St. Mark. That symbol of the Venetian Re public--the famous Lion of St. Mark --which after being restored, has just been replaced on its column in the Piazzcttaat Venice, is made of bronze. There is a tradition among the Ven etian people that its eyes arc dia monds; they are really white agates, faceted. Its mane is most elaborately wrought, and its retracted, gaping mouth and its fierce mustaches give in an Oriental aspect. The creature as it now stands belongs to many dif ferent epochs, varying from some date previous to our era down to this cent ury. It is conjectured that it may have originally formed a part of the decoration of some Assyrian palace. St. Mark's lion it certainly was not originally, for it was made to stand level upon the ground, and had to be raised up in front to allow the Evangel to be slipped under its fore- paws. Dolus One's Best. It is In works of benevolence and reform, just as in all other kinds of work, that which a man can do best is the very best thing for him to da So, if one man is interested in sani tary schemes, another in evening schools, if one Is anxious for free parks, if one can help to secure good roads and clean streets and another can aid in protecting children or dumb animals from ill-treatment, let each be assured that in such exertions he is doing his share in pro moting morality and in elevating character as surely and as effectually as those whose peculiar province it is to teach or to preach, to admonish or to advise.. As Young, in his "Night Thoughts," puts it, "Who does the best his circumstances allows, does well, acts nobly; angels could no more." INSTEAD of wishing you were rich, wish instead that you had more sense about taking care of the little money you have. There are too many people who don't know how to man age a dime who think they could manage a dollar. ABOUT once in every ten man should take a census of the num ber of friends he has. If the number decreases as he grows older, it is a good sign that he is not behaving himself. FUTURE OP JAPAN. Lies Along tde LlnM <te Her Indigenous Art Industries, There are many Japanese and not a few foreigners who think now that it will never be possible for Japan . to develop herself into a great manufac turing nation like England. The temperament, the training and the necessary materials are, for the most part lacking. A writer in thc Atlan tic Monthly says we can pardon thc Japanese their quixotic desire to com mit intellectual hari-kiri rather than be beheaded by an enemy; but that it will be hara-kiri and not any very great strengthening along material lines, seems more and more clear. For the far-seeing are now beginning to recognize that, even in industrial lines, the greatest hope of Japan lies ia her very venial and artistic tem perament. It is along the way of the development of her indigenous art in dustries that she has the greatest natural advantages Over competing peoples. In her capacity to design she has stored away an enormous capital, which even the disastrous in troduction of a bastard foreign sys tem of pencil drawing in her public schools has not wholly exhausted. Ii may be that at some distant day China will develop into a fully armed colossus Which shall draw t,he atten tion of European coalitions to strat egics centers far to the east of the Dardanelles and Neva; but it is much more possible for the perfected arts of Japan, deriving inspiration from carefully nurtured refinement, un worldly Ideal and creative indlvidu- Ity, peacefully to invade the willing its of the west with her laden l^"o goods very large, well ant« of wall paper, carpets EXTRAVAGANCE OF THE SUM. er goo and M -mtrr- >he is the last custodian of the sacred fire. She alone has the unspeakable advantage of seeing through the ma terialistic shams with which western civilizations delude themselves, while she appropriates their sounder mater ials to rekindle her flame. In bring ing to pass the fusion of eastern and western types which, 2,000 years after Alexander the Great carried the bor ders of Greece to India, becomes for the second time possible, and which shall create in both hemispheres a far more rounded civilization than either has ever known* Japan has the ines timable privilege of becoming our most alert pioneer. Through her temperament, her individuality, her deeper insight into the secrets of the cast, her ready divining of thc powers of the west, and, more than all, through the fact that hers, the spirit ual factor of the problem, must hold the master key to its solution, it may be decreed in the secretcouncil cham bers of destiny that on her shores shall be first created that new latter- day type of civilized man which shall prevail throughout the worlA for the next thousand years. Lifting' an Elephant. London has been entertained lately by feats of strength that are certainly remarkable and probably unsurpassed in modern times. First, there \vas a man named Sandow, who was an enormously powerful man; he was succeeded by Sampson, and he in turn by an Irish American named Sullivan. Curiously the three names begin with the letter S, which is also the initial of strength, afld of the Greek word for strength--sthenoSullivan, the latest comer, is 30 years of age, stands five feet eight and one-fourth inches in height, and weighs 168 pounds. His appearance presents little that is unusual in the way of muscular de velopment, and his biceps are neither very large nor wonderfully rigid. It is in his neck and jaw that his strehg^h chiefly lies, and the majority of his feats are such as bring this peculiarity into special prominence. At an exhibition given in London, he fastened a chain to a fifty-six pound weight, and the other end being gripped between his teeth, swung himself round and round until the twirling chain assumed a nearly hori zontal line. The feat was repeated with the v^etght doubled, and as the performed with both hands to his hipsy^and using every sinew in his frame, swirled round and round, the audience wondered with anxiety what would happen if one of the links should fly asunder. The most re markable feat that Sullivan per formed, however, was the lifting of an elephant by bis teeth. It was a baoy, it is true, but it weighed over 1.800 pounds, and was lifted three inches from the ground, its whole weight pendant from the jaw of the man above. Sullivan was not suc cessful in au attemptuto break a chain with his arm, having injured this limb on the previous night. He suc ceeded, however, in proving that his prowess was not entirely confined to feats with his teeth, by lifting a barrel of water, weighing 560 pounds, with the middle finger of his right hand. The Heating of Cars. Conservatism is in the main a highly respectable quality, but that fiype of it which is exemplified in the eoal-stove which still lingers in some railroad cars is a pernicious vice. There is at this day absolutely no ex cuse for the continuance of this source of danger. Perfectly safe heaters have been invented, not of one kind only but of many, and a va- rietjfcpf new methods have been in successful use quite long enough to show their practicability. Where electric heaters Sre used on electric roads, it has been found that they make a scarcely preceptible addition to the average "load" at the power station, and the consumption of coal is not appreciably increased. Cars on steam railroads are already in many cases lighted by electricity; and to heat them by the same means is but another step in advance. In France a heating apparatus has been devised in which acetate of soda is used, be ing first, pkxed in boxes in a solid state, then liquefied by plunging the boxes in hot water; and thc boxes are then placed in thc cars, where they give out an Erjrceaole heat for five or six hours. That is not a wise rail road management which waits to be admonished by one more frightful catastrophe before making a choice t)ut of tho it" t ny safeguards within Its reach. Luminary Being Expended at a Treinemloun&it*. . It goes without saying that the welfare of the human race is neces sarily connected with the continuance of the sun's beneficent action. 1% becomes, therefore, of the utmost In terest to Inquire whether the sun's heat can be calculated on indefinitely. Here is indeed a subject which is literally of the most vital importance so far as organic life is concerned. If the sun ever ceases to shine then must it be certain that there is a term beyond which human existence. - or, indeed, organic existence of any type whatever, cannot any longer endure on the earth. We may say once more for, ail that't^e sun con tains just a certain number of units of heat, actual of potential, and that he is at the present moment shedding that heat around with the most ap palling extravagance. No doubt the heat hoard of the sun is so tremendous that the consequences of his mighty profusion do not become speedily ap parent. They are indeed, it must be admitted, hardly to be discerned within the few brief centuries that the sun has beerusuhmitted to human observation. ' But, a writer la the Fortnightly Review says, we have grounds for knowing as a certainty that the sun cannot escape from the destiny that sooner or later overtakes the spend thrift. In his interesting studies Of this , subject Prof. Langley gives a striking illustration of the rate at which the solar heat is beiug squan dered at this moment He remarks that the great coal fields of Pennsyl- ania contain enough of tho precious lineral to supplv the wants of the 'nited States for a thousand years, tf all that trejpendpijs eccuqnilatjga fuel were to be extracted and urned in one vast conflagration the" tal quantity of heat that wouta be roduced would no doubt be stu pendous, and yet, says this authority, who has taught us so much about the sun, all the heat developed by that terrific ccal tire would not be equal to that which the sun pours forth in the thousandth part of each single second. When we reflect that this expenditure of heat has been going on not alone for the centuries during which the earth has been the abode of man, but also for those periods which we can not estimate, except by saying that they are doubtless millions of years during "which there has been life on the giobc, then indeed we begin to comprehend how vast must have been the capital heat with which the sun started on its career. ' How He Rode. • .. * The character of the old Illinois courts, in which Abraham Lincoln practised, was very primitive, says a writer in the Century. In one case a livery stable horse had died soon after being returned, and the person who had hired it was sued for damages. The question turned largely upon the reputation of the defendant as a hard rider. witness was called--a long, lank Westerner. "How does Mr. So-and-so usually ride?"*asked the lawyer Without a gleam of intelligence the witness replied: , "A-straddle, sir." "No, no," said the lawyer; "I mean does he usually walk, or trot, or gal lop?" "Wal," said the witness, appar ently searching In the depths of his memory for facts, "when he rides a walkin' horse he walks, when he rides trottin' horse he trots, and when he rides a gallopin' horse he gallops, when--" The lawyer was angry. "I want to know what gait the defendant usually takes, fast or slow." "Wal," said the witness, "when his company rides fast he rides fast, and when his company tides slow he r i d e s s l o w . " _ • ^ ̂ . "I want to kno^ sir,1'the lawyer said, very much exasperated, and very stern now, "howjMr. So-and-so rides when he is alone." "Wal," said the witness, more slowly and meditatively than evef, "when he was alone I wa'nt along, and I don't know." The laugh at the questioner ended the cross-examination. The IrVanamaker Advertising Idea. M. M. Gillam, advertising manager for John Wanamaker, in' a recent issue of Printer's Ink, says: No odds what the size of a business may be, our experience has proved that generous advertising will bring a crop of sales as surely as generous culture will bring a crop of grain There is lust one condition--the ad vertised thing must be worth thc at tention of buyers. For a general business I believe there is but one perfectly satisfactory advertising medium--the newspaper. No matter what the nature of a community Is, if a paper has a chance at the people it sorts them out aa certainly as if they were put through a mental sieve. The progressive, enterprising wide awake, money-spending, life-enjoying citizen, wherever he is, is always hungry in the head--he wants a pa per; he'll get one if he ean. The plnch-penny, slow-going, yes terday man; the too poor or the too mean too buy. are never in the news paper procession. Put an advertisement before the readers of a paper and you take the crcam of any population. You go straight home to the people who can buy and who are readv to buy. That's one side of It. *, * The other is the merchant's He, too, must be wide-aw ake. There's no use in lugging a hide-bound busi ness in a moss-grown way before such a constituency. Nearer Than That. It may be news to many people that there can be a nearer family relation than that of brother and sister, but a little miss gave this information to world on the first day of her attend ance at the public school: Accompanied by a small boy she apoeared in the school-room, and the teacher proceeded to take down the new pupils' names, which were given as lialph and Edith Johnson. "Brother and sister, I suppose," said the teacher, pleasantly. *,Oh no, ma'am, we're twins!" the little girl's reply. • TIIEUI opposed ftic are some men who arcr to anarchy that they will n even wear red flannel. lini